There was a third choice. They could sell Dos Estrellas. And a potential buyer, Theo McGraw, was the father of the estate’s trustee.
No. The latter two choices weren’t options. Gabe refused to lose the ranch. Not to his brothers’ glaring inadequacies and especially not to his father’s archrival.
“What about the mustang sanctuary?” Josh asked. “With more land, we may not need to purchase supplemental feed.”
Gabe scrubbed his face and groaned. Was the man not listening yesterday during the reading of the will?
“That land belongs to Cara.”
“Technically,” Josh said slowly, “it belongs to us.”
“It’s hers to use indefinitely.” As long as they didn’t sell the ranch.
Josh addressed Reese. “You’re the trustee. You have control over the ranch’s assets. If the land was returned to the ranch, we could buy more cattle and expand the herd.”
“The bank’s position is, barring extenuating circumstances, to follow the terms of the will to the letter.” Reese closed her laptop. “I think demanding Cara give up the sanctuary is premature. You have the line of credit and several months to make a go of this.”
Cole sat up straighter. “Maybe we should sell the ranch.”
“No!” Gabe all but shouted his refusal.
“Fine. Then buy us out. We’re allowed to sell our shares.”
Gabe had read the will. He knew the terms. And what he’d give for the kind of money required to buy out his brothers. “Believe me, I would if I could.”
“I’ll cut you a deal.”
Gabe knew what he wanted more than anything. “Give me six months, and I’ll have the money.”
“I’d rather sell now.”
Before he could answer, Josh cut in. “I’m not ready to sell yet, either.”
Wow. Really? That was hardly the response Gabe expected.
“Since when?” Cole demanded. “You need the money more than me.”
Josh worked his jaw as if contemplating his brother’s remark, then said to Reese, “I have two children. A boy, two and a half, and a girl, nine months. I’m in the process of gaining full custody. To satisfy the court, I need a permanent place to call home. Dos Estrellas fits the bill.”
She smiled pleasantly. Almost wistfully. “There’s nowhere better than Mustang Valley to raise a family.”
Was she encouraging him to stay? Gabe suffered a stab of betrayal, though he had no reason. He and Reese weren’t intimate or even friends. They were barely acquaintances.
“I need to go home for a few days,” Josh said. “Maybe a week. Get more of my things. I’ll be back before Thanksgiving.”
“What about Brawley?” Cole asked.
Gabe wasn’t a rodeo enthusiast, but he knew from overhearing Josh and Cole this morning at breakfast that Brawley, California, was home of the Cattle Call Rodeo.
“Looks like I’m making a career change. Ranching for rodeoing.”
“Good luck,” Cole grumbled.
“You, too, little brother. You’re coming back here with me.”
Josh’s declaration wasn’t well received, judging by Cole’s scowl. By Gabe, either. Given his choice, both brothers would return to California and stay. Indefinitely.
Since they weren’t likely to leave, the next best thing would be for him to acquire full ownership. For that, he’d have to come up with a game plan, and fast. Thanksgiving, and his brothers’ return, was right around the corner.
* * *
“GET ALONG LITTLE DOGIES, get along.”
Hearing Violet’s singing, Gabe laughed to himself. Dos Estrellas’s livestock manager couldn’t carry a tune to save her life. Then there was her song choice.
Pushing the four stragglers through the gate and into the next section of grazing land wasn’t exactly the same as driving a herd of cattle across open range. But he appreciated her enthusiasm.
“We’re done here,” he called to Violet once the last young heifer meandered through the gate, lowing softly to her mates ahead.
“Okay, boss.” Violet dismounted. Whistling the same tune she’d been singing, and just as off-key, she closed the wide gate and shoved the latch into place.
Boss. Gabe liked the sound of that. Ranch employees had called his father boss. What would they call his brothers, if anything? More interesting, what did they think of the brothers’ part ownership and their staying on to run the place with Gabe?
It had been three days since Josh and Cole had left for California. Josh had called yesterday to say they’d be returning Thanksgiving Eve. Gabe was admittedly enjoying the peace and quiet. For now, and for the next few days, at least, he was the sole boss of Dos Estrellas.
Violet mounted and rode up beside him. Gabe nudged Bonita into a brisk walk. After some debate, he and Violet had decided to move the herd to a different section of grazing land, allowing the depleted vegetation in this section to regrow. With the help of their three best hands, the operation had gone smoothly, taking them all of yesterday and half of this morning.
The exception was a couple dozen strays who’d decided they’d rather hide in a stand of trees near the stock pond. These last four cattle were the most stubborn of the lot. And the craftiest. In the end, Gabe and Violet had prevailed.
“I have some news for you,” she said, her jaw working as she chewed on a piece of dried grass.
“What’s that?”
“It’s about Mickey.”
Violet had worked at Dos Estrellas for the past ten years, since she was eighteen. Gabe’s father had originally hired her on as a wrangler. She’d worked her way up, from head wrangler to assistant livestock manager to senior livestock manager right before Gabe’s father had become sick.
And while every bit a cowboy on the outside, she was one hundred percent girl on the inside. Back when she’d first started at the ranch, Gabe had asked her out. They’d gone on a few dates before mutually deciding they made better friends than romantic partners.
Gabe’s father had also liked Violet, which was one reason he’d continually promoted her. The other was that she outperformed every other wrangler on the place, rightfully earning each of her new positions.
“What’s with Mickey now?” Gabe didn’t have a lot of patience when it came to the young wrangler, who worked hard one day and loafed off the next.
“He’s leaving at the end of the week.” Violet tossed away the stalk of dried grass. “Told me this morning.”
“Not much notice.”
“Said he got a better offer.”
Gabe had his doubts. “From who?”
“Miracle Mile. They’re near Tonopah.”
He’d heard of the ranch. A little bigger than Dos Estrellas, but with a less-than-stellar reputation.
“Good luck to him.”
Violet raised her brow, her head bobbing in rhythm to the horse’s easy gait. “You’re not mad?”
“Naw. Mickey’s better off at Miracle Mile, and we’re better off without him.”
“Leroy’s talking about leaving, too.”
That did concern Gabe. “Why?”
“If you don’t mind me saying, boss, the guys are a little worried. Talk is, money’s in short supply, and what’s left is going to the California Dempseys.”
California Dempseys? That was what the employees called Gabe’s brothers? Better than the California owners.
“I won’t lie,” Gabe said. “We aren’t rolling in dough. But there’s enough to carry the ranch for the next several months. I’m working on a longer-term solution.”
“Good. I’ll let the guys know.”
“If they have a problem or want answers, they can come to me. I’ll tell it to them straight.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.�
�
Violet’s respectful demeanor gave Gabe a warm feeling inside. It also motivated him to take action. His goal to buy his brothers’ share wouldn’t come together on its own.
Watching the last four strays reunite with the herd grazing contentedly on the green, rolling hills, Gabe envisioned what lay ahead and the course he must take. Cattle were what sustained the ranch, and increasing the herd was the best way to boost revenue.
“Can you finish up here?” he asked Violet. “I’ve got an appointment in town.”
“Sure thing.”
He trotted Bonita down the rocky rise and most of the way back to the barn. He hadn’t been fibbing to Violet. He did have an appointment in town. Reese simply didn’t know about it yet.
Smelling of cows was no way to make an impression. After unsaddling Bonita and returning her to the horse stable, he headed to the house. He showered and changed into clean jeans and a dress shirt.
Luckily, Cara was busy with some new arrivals at the mustang sanctuary and his mother had gone shopping in nearby Rio Verde for Thanksgiving dinner. Gabe could leave without having to answer their well-intended but nosy questions, about where he was going and why.
At the bank, he was informed by the teller that Reese was with a customer and he’d have to wait.
“How long will she be?”
“I’m not sure.” The teller, a young man Gabe had seen on occasion, checked the wall clock. “Probably not long.”
Gabe sat in one of the waiting chairs near an overly decorated seven-foot Christmas tree. Already? It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet. He’d noticed decorations in several storefronts on his way in, plus an empty lot next to the market cordoned off in preparation of tree sales. Signs for the community-wide annual Holly Daze Festival starting in a couple of weeks were posted all over town.
He typically didn’t bother with the festival, but his mother had been talking about going for weeks. She’d missed last year’s because of his father’s illness. Gabe supposed he’d be the one recruited to take her and Cara.
His seat in the bank waiting area did offer one advantage: an unobstructed view of Reese’s office. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass panel, he saw her sitting behind her desk, engaged in conversation with the customer who wasn’t visible behind the solid wood door.
Hmm. She didn’t look happy. If Gabe were to venture a guess, this particular customer was pushing all her hot buttons.
Well, finances could be a touchy subject. If she were turning down a loan request or collecting on a delinquent account, the person might be giving her grief. Gabe sat back in the deep cushioned chair and continued watching, intrigued by her expressive face.
She was lovely. Quite beautiful, actually, and obviously smart. Poised and confident. How had she flown so far under his radar until now? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her periodically, from a distance anyway, since her return. Probably because they worked diligently at avoiding each other.
Gabe noticed Reese twirling a pen between her thumb and forefinger as if venting her anger. Was she bored by her customer? No, Gabe clearly saw her face from where he sat, and her eyes were snapping. Whoever this customer was, he or she was getting to Reese while she struggled to maintain her cool.
Yet another quality to like about her. They were starting to stack up. Oh, yeah. Except for that one little obstacle: her tight grip on the Dos Estrellas purse strings.
The next instant, the door to her office flew open, startling Gabe. He glanced up and stared openly. The person with Reese was no customer. Blake Nolan strode angrily out of the office, his features dark and menacing.
He and Gabe were casually acquainted. Blake’s mother was one of the town supervisors, and Gabe’s father, like many of the local ranchers, had dealt frequently with the board of supervisors. Today, however, Gabe and Blake might have been complete strangers, for the other man walked past him without saying a word.
Gabe rose, considered hailing Blake, then thought better of it. He was more interested in Reese, how she was doing and—okay, fine—what had transpired between her and Blake.
He started for her office.
“Sir,” the teller called out. “If you’ll give me a second to buzz Ms. McGraw—”
“We’re friends.” At the door, he paused to take in Reese. “You all right?”
A flicker of surprise was her only reaction, which she quickly contained. “Gabe. What are you doing here? You’re not on my calendar.”
“I took a chance you were free.”
“What can I do for you?”
He walked into her office and shut the door behind him.
She regarded him with suspicion. “Is this about the ranch?”
“You didn’t answer my question. Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She tugged on the cuffs of her sweater, straightening the sleeves.
“Blake didn’t appear very happy when he left.”
“I’m not discussing him with you.”
“Was it business or personal?” Gabe lowered himself into the visitor chair Blake had recently vacated.
“I repeat,” she said in a clipped tone, “what are you doing here?”
He leaned forward. “I was concerned about you, is all.”
“Because we’re friends?” Though her tone remained clipped, her demeanor softened a bit around the edges. “I heard you say that to the teller.”
“We’re not?”
“We’re business associates first.”
“Funny isn’t it?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “How did that happen, by the way?”
“Gabe, what do you want? I have another appointment in twenty minutes.”
He sat back, striving to appear relaxed. In truth, he was a bundle of nerves. He’d sat in on several meetings with his father, always watching and learning, but he’d never conducted one. They’d both assumed his father had many more years ahead of him to run Dos Estrellas.
“I did some checking around this morning,” Gabe said. “Made a few phone calls. Talked to a cattle broker. We can easily sustain five hundred more head. A thousand, even.”
He waited for her to take what he saw as the logical leap. She didn’t, simply stared at him and waited.
“I’d like to draw on the line of credit,” he finally said.
“To purchase cattle?”
Was she intentionally baiting him? “Yes.”
“Do your brothers know?”
“They’re not back from California yet. Does it matter?”
“Yes. Any loans, including advances, must be approved of by all three owners.” She didn’t talk to him as if he were stupid or accuse him of not reading the will, which he appreciated.
That didn’t lessen Gabe’s frustration. “Can’t you authorize it as the trustee?”
“Possibly. But I won’t.”
“This is a good time to buy. Beef prices are predicted to go up even higher.”
Reese rested her clasped hands on the desk. “The ranch can’t easily sustain more head, and you need the line of credit for supplemental feed.”
“It could rain tomorrow. They’re forecasting a ten percent chance.”
She inhaled slowly. “I think we should wait. Stay the course for a few months. You said yourself at our recent meeting that summer is a better time to buy, when beef prices typically go down.”
Gabe could also be stubborn. “Dad’s plan was to grow the herd. You said so yourself.”
“Slowly grow the herd,” she reiterated.
“A few hundred head isn’t exactly leaps and bounds.”
“I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“That’s it?” He squeezed the chair’s upholstered armrests hard enough to feel the metal bar inside. “You’re in charge, so you can veto any request.”
“I’ll be glad to talk about it with all three of you when your brothers return.”
And here he’d been thinking how attractive she was and smart. Right. He’d left out the part about her being obstinate and inflexible.
He abruptly stood. “Who’s the manager here?”
“Walt Marshall.” She also stood. “Why?”
“I want to talk to him about a change in trustee.”
“It’s not up to you. Your father named the bank.”
“Then someone else here can take over. This Walt guy, for one.”
Reese shook her head. “No, he can’t.”
“Why the hell not?” Gabe was getting pretty sick and tired of her countering everything he said.
“There are conditions.”
“Like?”
“Gabe.” She exhaled slowly. “I didn’t want to tell you this.” Her tone warned him not to ask.
He did anyway. “Tell me what?”
She hesitated. “Your father didn’t just name Southern Arizona Bank as the trustee. He specifically requested me to oversee the trust.”
“You’re joking!”
“I’m afraid I’m not.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since he arranged for the bank to be trustee.”
He stared in amazement. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“I couldn’t. And even if bank policy didn’t prohibit me, it wasn’t my place.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Feel free to speak to Walt.” She leaned back in her chair. “He’ll tell you the same thing.”
It was difficult for Gabe to see the sympathy in Reese’s eyes through the red haze surrounding him. How could this be happening? Bad enough he had to share ownership of Dos Estrellas with two brothers who disliked him as much as he did them. He couldn’t make a single decision about the ranch without the approval of Reese, the daughter of his father’s rival.
None of this made sense. What could his father have been thinking? To specifically request Reese...
Gabe didn’t say goodbye. Not that he remembered, anyway.
He knocked into the chair on his way out, muttering a curse under his breath. The next thing he knew, he was behind the wheel of his truck and driving across town to the attorney Hector Fuentes’s office.
Her Holiday Rancher Page 6