by Heidi Hormel
She watched his full mouth tighten, then he looked over her shoulder. “Here comes Spence. Hopefully, he’s gotten it all straightened out.”
Payson’s brother looked from one to the other and adjusted his hat. “Well, there does seem to be a problem. They have an order to place the livestock and all other domestic animals in preemptive protective custody. It seems to be a new tactic the Humane League is taking when properties go into foreclosure.” By the end of the brief speech, the good-old-boy drawl was gone, and he stared at her hard.
“Foreclosure,” Payson repeated.
“I’m working on that,” she said, forcing steel into her voice.
“Working on it?” Payson asked, his voice deepening. “How exactly? You barely charge anything for your therapy but pay top dollar to your staff. You take in any damn animal that someone wants to get rid of. How exactly are you taking care of it?”
“It’s not your problem, Payson,” she barked. She didn’t need to have him point out that she was a bad businesswoman.
“It certainly is my business. If I don’t take care of you, who will? Huh?”
“You don’t need to take care of me. You never did.”
* * *
PAYSON’S ANGER HAD been squarely aimed at the Humane League until he’d found out about Jessie’s part in this farce. Foreclosure. Not a word from her or a peep about needing help, of course.
“You two settle your divorce on your own time,” Spence said sternly, breaking into Payson’s thoughts. His brother’s gaze stayed glued on Jessie. “When did you get notice of foreclosure?”
“This morning.”
“Just this morning?” Spence asked with doubt lacing his voice.
“There was another note, but I’m sure I can work something out. I’ve done it before and I’m not behind by a lot. Last time I got behind, I paid a little and got more time. I’m sure I can get another partial payment to them. I did internet research. I’ve still got time.”
“I want to see the original mortgage. They’ve been slipping in extra language. You should have called me to look at it...or called someone. Who the hell knows what you signed away.”
Payson looked at Jessie, her chin thrust forward and her hands on her hips. Spence was right. Now was not the time to argue. Hope’s Ride had become his problem when he agreed to lead Desert Valley’s team. The program and his career were at stake.
With the Humane League on the doorstep because of the foreclosure, the first order of business was getting rid of the foreclosure, which meant paying enough to the bank to get them to back off. Spence could take care of that. It would be up to Payson to get Jessie to accept help in the form of cash.
“We don’t have a lot of time here,” Spence said. “That group at the end of your lane wants to ‘protect your animals.’ I have a call in to the judge who made the order. I’m going to work on getting an injunction. I’m not sure how that will go.”
Payson heard Jessie take a shaky breath. He didn’t think he could handle it if she started to cry. He never could, not that she let herself cry very often. “Jessie, why don’t you take Spence to your office to get him the paperwork?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but shooed the two of them toward the barn.
When they left, he convinced the staff and volunteers still hanging around to go home. Fortunately, the hospital’s employees had gone for the day, or they’d be no way for Payson to keep this quiet and get it cleared up without screwing up Jessie’s chances for a hospital affiliation along with his own career. He stood by himself, long after the last vehicle was just a plume of dust.
He had to get the money, then talk Jessie into accepting the cash, all while making sure the hospital didn’t get wind of the problem until after it was solved. He started damage control with the hospital by getting Helen involved. He told her that if she got phone calls, she needed to be clear that the Humane League visit had been routine, and any rumors about money should be blamed on a mix-up at the bank, which had been addressed.
Helen balked. He made it clear to her—just as it was clear to him—that saving Hope’s Ride was the only way to save his own career.
Reluctantly, Helen agreed to help, ending the call by saying, “Don’t forget what’s important here—and it’s not fixing everything.”
“I have a mother, thank you,” he snapped and walked behind one of the outbuildings so Jessie and Spence wouldn’t find him while he called his investment adviser. His parents were well-off but had never been as wealthy as Jessie imagined or they pretended. Plus, Payson had, like Jessie, wanted to strike out on his own. He’d gotten a small trust when his grandmother died, but any money he had now he’d earned. His bank account was healthy but not unlimited, plus he’d been subsidizing Alex’s treatment at Hope’s Ride until the hospital affiliation would get his insurance company to pay.
He could scrape together enough for the bank—he hoped anyway—but he would need time to sell off stocks. Once he had the money, though...anyone else would just thank him for the help. Jessie might just kick him off her property. Her independence had attracted him when they were young. When so many other girls had been interested in the gifts he could buy them, she’d told him to not “waste money on flowers that’ll die anyway.” The only jewelry she’d ever worn had been the plain wedding band. No diamond engagement ring because it’d “just get dirty and caught on stuff.”
He’d still wanted her to know how important she was to him and how much he loved her. So to celebrate their short engagement, he’d bought her a big sleigh bed she’d fallen in love with at an art co-op. It was fancifully painted with hearts and pairs of wild animals and a very modestly covered Adam and Eve. It had barely fit in their apartment’s bedroom, but it had been worth the bruised knuckles when his cowgirl had cried seeing it for the first time in their home. Next thing he knew, they were lying on the bed, snuggled together as she kissed him and told him how much she loved him...and the bed.
He knew the ranch was even dearer to her than that bed, but that wasn’t why he’d save the damned place. What was important was protecting his career by making sure the time and money the hospital had spent so far wouldn’t be wasted. Next step to achieving his goals? Come up with an argument so persuasive that Jessie couldn’t say no to his money. Or...he could just lie.
Chapter Seven
Jessie listened as Spence spoke with the judge on his phone and her stomach churned faster. She paced her small office, hoping the movement would soothe her, or at least keep her mind occupied. Right now, it yelled “loser.”
Her breath caught every time she pictured Molly being dragged away. What about Bull? She had to call her brother and get him to come over for his horse. There were three other animals that technically belonged to others. Jessie boarded them in exchange for using them in the program. Where was her cell? She had to call them. The Humane League couldn’t have those horses. She headed to the door and stopped when she saw Payson.
“What?” she asked, her voice shakier than she expected.
“Nothing,” he said, but his gaze didn’t quite meet hers. “Has Spence talked with the judge?”
She gathered herself, trying to push fear aside. “He’s on the phone now.” If she didn’t say that it was going badly, everything would be fine. “I should make some calls, too.” She tried to move past him.
“I need to talk with you.”
“It’s going to have to wait,” she said.
He captured her arm and said, “It’s about this mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Thanks for your understanding and support.” She didn’t need him telling her she’d messed up. She knew that.
“It is a mess,” he said, defensively. “And, of course, you’re going to be unreasonable about it.”
“Unreasonable because I don’t want a bunch of hopped-up do-gooders taking my animals?”
“You didn’t tell me you were in trouble,” he said, an edge she’d rarely heard entering his voice.
“I wasn’t until today. And I’ve let you help. Who called Big Bad Spence? You. And why would I tell you about anything? We’re not married.”
He put a little space between them. “I thought we were at least colleagues, maybe even friends. The fact that you were on the brink of foreclosure is something you should have shared, especially with my hospital involved.”
She understood, but she said, “I didn’t because Hope’s Ride is mine.”
“Hey,” Spence’s voice interrupted. “I’m on the phone. Take it outside.”
Jessie wanted to point her finger at Payson and tattle that it was all his fault. Instead, she took the adult route, turned and left the office. She needed a few minutes to herself anyway. A snack would get her thinking more clearly so she could figure out who she needed to call. She hunched her shoulders and looked down as she walked to the house, expecting Payson to hurry after her. She tried to decide if she was happy that he’d left her alone. She had to remember that he was only in it for the title.
Inside, she hurriedly got a soda and tortilla chips. The small but cozy ranch house suited her with its warm, desert-sunset tones and comfortable, rustic furniture. She also took time to rinse her face, retie her hair and put on a clean shirt. It made her feel refreshed and ready to face the people at the ranch’s entrance. She didn’t need Big Bad Spence. She would just talk to the group. They would have to see that she cared about the animals and would never abandon them, no matter what happened to the ranch. She veered away from that thought.
The scream of a power tool biting into wood broke her concentration. Who would be working at the ranch today? No one. They’d all left. Had Daddy driven all the way from Tucson to do “repairs”—his code for checking up on her? Of course, he’d have to pick today to stop in.
Jessie tried to open the front door, concocting the story she’d tell her father to explain the khaki brigade at the end of the drive and the lawyer in her office. She looked down at the doorknob in her hand that didn’t turn. The power tool had quieted, and now she heard the grumble of a male voice.
“Daddy,” she yelled through the door. No response. “Daddy?” Well, heck, he was probably listening to his iPod. She went to the back door, yanked it open and screamed. A stranger was standing at her door holding a circular saw.
Not moving the blade, he said, “What are you doing in the house? No one’s supposed to be in the house.”
“It’s my house. Get off my property before I call the police.”
“This is the bank’s property,” he said, giving her a stern look.
“I’m calling the police,” she said, turning back inside. She heard static as Saw Man spoke into a bright yellow walkie-talkie. She hesitated. The adrenaline from the scare had drained away and her mind cleared. What had he said about the bank?
“Jessie,” Payson called from the front porch.
She looked at the back door again but Saw-Man had disappeared.
“Jessie,” Payson said again, a little louder.
“Coming,” she answered, taking three deep breaths and hoping her snack stayed in her stomach. On the porch, Payson stood with two men dressed in gray uniforms. A heavy engine growled and she saw a large tow truck backed up to her garage. She started off the porch, but Payson’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“They told me that the mortgage company sent them out. How long have you known about the foreclosure?” he asked, his voice tight and very low.
She could barely hear him over the noise of the nearby truck. The men in the uniforms looked away. “I gave you the paper from today. This can’t be right. The internet article said that it takes at least 120 days.”
“Give me the paper again,” Spence said, having popped up behind his brother.
Jessie dug in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the crumpled paper. Somewhere between scared witless and weeping mad, Jessie held it together. She stepped closer to Payson as Spence read quickly. The starchy scent that she’d always associated with Payson steadied her. She had four months to find the money to make the loan right, before it could go to foreclosure. She knew she had time, so what were these yahoos doing? She raced to the barn to tell the tow-truck driver to keep his hands off her Scout—the truck she adored even though it had been built before she was born.
In the doorway, facing the tow truck, Spence caught up to her and said, “Found the problem. This is not the first notice. When did you get the other one? They have it that the house is being sold next week.”
“What? They can’t do that.”
“The order for this repo team is what triggered the visit from the Humane League. But there are other complications.”
“This makes no sense. The first one was just a prelude, right? I’m sure that’s what the article said. One notice and I’d have 120 days after the second notice.” Jessie stood for a moment, then asked hopefully, “So, we can just tell them to leave, right?”
“Even if there was a problem with the notices, there’s another complication.”
“Lay out exactly what we’re looking at here, Spence,” Payson said from somewhere behind her.
“Come over here,” Spence said, leading them to a piece of shade near one of the outbuildings. “I’ve got to be quick or they’ll clean you out.”
Jessie stiffened and her heart stopped. She didn’t shake off Payson’s hand when he laid it on her arm.
Spence said, “The judge who initiated the proceedings is off sick and it’s Friday afternoon. That means all the other judges are on their way out the door, and they don’t want to hear anything that will keep them a second past five o’clock.”
Payson’s hand slid down and took hers as he leaned forward just a little and said to Spence, “What are you going to do about this?”
“This is like facing the firing squad. Take a step back. I’m just telling you how it is. You can’t expect miracles here.”
Jessie pulled her hand away from Payson’s. She turned away as she said, “What can you do?”
“I’ll show the guys messing with the locks that the sale doesn’t take place for a week and that you are occupying the home. It’s not abandoned as I’m guessing they assumed. That will get them to call their bosses at least. They don’t want to get sued. I’ll show the same thing to the Humane League. We should be able to put everything on hold until we can get a judge to straighten this out next week, or we have time to negotiate with bank and the mortgage company. That’s the best case, anyway.”
“What the hell, Spence,” Payson burst out. “That’s the best you can do? That maybe they’ll listen?”
“You need to step back, Doc,” Spence said. “I will do my job, that’s why you called me. You two go to the office and stay there while I straighten this out. You’ll just make it worse.”
Jessie wanted to protest, but she couldn’t see the easy-going cowboy anywhere on Spence’s face or in his stance. In its place was a stone-faced man she wouldn’t want to mess with. Payson followed her to the barn and her quiet office.
* * *
PAYSON TOOK A SECOND to enjoy the cool darkness of the barn and stopped Jessie before they got to the office. “Next time there’s a problem, you need to come to me. We’re supposed to be partners on this project.”
“I’ve tried really hard to work with you, but you’ve all made it clear that all you’re worried about is the ‘data to prove the metrics.’”
“You’re the one who asked the hospital...asked me for help,” Payson said and Jessie stiffened. “I don’t want to take over your program permanently. I just need you to communicate—”
“That’s funny coming from you.”
“What does that mean? You’ve always been the silent cowboy or cowgir
l or whatever. Your parents talk all of the time. I never understood it.”
“Maybe because you never listened,” she said, leaning forward.
He leaned in, too, seeing the sun streaks in her hair. “I listened. I just didn’t agree. You never wanted my help. You had to ‘stand on your own two boots.’”
“Because you always thought you knew better. I talked to the doctor about my riding. He said it was fine, and when I told you that, you know what you said? Do you? ‘Give me his number. I don’t believe you.’”
“Because then, just like now, you only told me half of what was going on. Like how sick you were. I only knew because I found the medicine hidden in our underwear drawer.”
“I could handle it—”
“You always said that you could handle it, even when you couldn’t, and when I or anyone else offered to help, you just walked away or lied or—”
Spence interrupted, “Bad time?”
Payson shut his mouth tight and hoped his brother hadn’t heard much of the argument. And if he had, that he’d keep quiet about it. Payson fidgeted with change in his pocket as he waited for Spence to continue.
“Lucky for you, I’ve got a trustworthy face. The Humane League agreed to post the warning until the actual sale or the bank/mortgage company stops the foreclosure, whichever comes first. The repo crew said that they couldn’t make any decisions ‘in the field.’ I got them to allow Jessie to keep her equipment. Sorry. Getting a text,” Spence said looking at his phone and then talking quickly. “They’re changing the locks on the house. You are forbidden to enter, but no items will be removed.”
“Where am I supposed to stay?” Jessie asked, her voice rising.
“A hotel,” Spence said, his gaze glued to his phone.
“If I had the money for a hotel, I wouldn’t be in foreclosure,” she said.
“Stay with your family. That’s what you did when you and Payson fought,” Spence said shortly, his gaze not moving from the phone’s screen.
“I don’t want Mama and Daddy to know about the problem. They would want to help, and they’ve already done enough. If I stay with Lavonda or Danny...I don’t want them to have to lie to our parents.”