Navy SEAL Protector

by Bonnie Vanak

  Her hands clenched tighter. Barlow was a sleepy community, a typical small town, except for when the country-music convention came to town. It offered nothing to her. She planned to leave for the bright lights of Nashville when Heather and Steve returned from Iraq. Heather promised they’d all get a place in the city big enough for Shelby while she pursued her dream of traveling to Paris to learn art.

  But she’d always imagined the Belle Creek would be here if she ever wanted to visit. She couldn’t imagine Barlow without the sprawling ranch.

  She also couldn’t imagine it without Silas. He was the heart of this place. Fresh grief made it hard to swallow past the thick lump in her throat.

  A deep frown touched Nick’s face. “The ranch always made money in the past. What happened that the old man got into such debt?”

  The question was directed at Dan, who avoided looking at Nick. When Nick swept his gaze around the room, the lawyer also didn’t meet his eyes.

  “This is a good working ranch with a reputation for producing excellent studs and show horses.” Nick leaned forward, his gaze hard. “The Belle Creek always had at least two dozen horses boarded here to provide a steady monthly income and we won hard cash in equestrian jumping competitions. Silas was a hardheaded businessman who pinched pennies. There’s no reason for it to be operating that much in the red.”

  Silence draped the room. Jake grinned, but it looked forced. “We have only three boarders left, Nick. Things are not always as they seem, cuz.”

  His brother ignored the statement and gestured to the room. “Mr. Mohler, I’m not selling the Belle Creek. Uncle Silas told me five years ago when he named me as his trustee that I should never sell the ranch, no matter what. It had to stay in the family.”

  Relief swept through Shelby. She found it oddly appealing that Dan was a champion of the old man, when they’d clashed over managing the ranch in the past.

  Nick rubbed a hand over his chin. He looked uncomfortable. Shelby felt a dash of pity for him. Even though he had abandoned his family, it had to hurt, knowing his father had overlooked him in favor of a cousin.

  The lawyer cleared his throat. “I have here a letter from Silas to you, Nick.”

  As he handed over the envelope, Nick looked at the letter as if it was a snake.

  “I suggest you read it in private, when we are done here. I’ll want to meet with you soon in my office downtown, Nick.”

  Felicity frowned. “What does Nick have to do with any of this? We know Dan is the trustee. Silas told us he was leaving everything to Dan, with provisions for Jake.”

  Kurt looked uncomfortable. “Silas came to me six months ago to update his trust and his will. There is a small provision for Dan and Jake, amounting to a total of twenty thousand dollars to be divided evenly. That provision comes from the life insurance policy, so that is solid cash. Both of you will also receive a few acres of land each.”

  Shelby’s stomach did a flip-flop. She had a bad feeling about this.

  “Then who gets the house and the ranch?” Jake demanded.

  Kurt looked right at Nick, the man who couldn’t care less about any of this, who hadn’t been home in ten years. “The will states that Silas left almost everything to Nick. The house, the ranch, the horses, all the assets. It is his to do with as he pleases. Including the investment account, which I’m afraid only amounts to ten thousand dollars.”

  “What?” Felicity shrieked.

  Dan looked pale and Jake laughed. Nick said nothing, but went very still, his hands curling around the letter, as if he wanted to crush it.

  Or crush Silas.

  “Well, at least the old man’s funeral is paid for,” Jake joked.

  “That isn’t funny,” Felicity snapped.

  She didn’t dare breathe. She wasn’t mentioned at all in this family drama. For a moment she wondered why the lawyer wanted her here.

  Didn’t Silas remember her at all?

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, Kurt turned to Shelby. “Miss Stillwater, there is also a provision in the will for you.”

  She waited, nails digging into her palms.

  “Silas arranged to give you the apartment over the garage. It’s yours to occupy as long as the ranch remains in the family. You can’t sell it, of course, but you’re free to live there and he made it clear no rent will be charged as long as you occupy it.”

  A little of her tension fled. She managed a tight nod. “Thank you.”

  The lawyer nodded. “Silas always thought highly of you. He loved you like you were his daughter.”

  She warmed a little to the man. And then he added, “But you are not family, only an employee of the Belle Creek. Silas made it clear that only family is to have what funds he left. I don’t blame him, as I know your family’s history with the ranch is circumspect, specifically your father and how he left here owing money.”

  Talk about a dose of ice water. Holding on to her pride, she sat straight and managed a tight smile. Nick, however, wasn’t smiling.

  “That’s not necessary, Mohler,” he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. “Shelby is not her father. Show her some respect.”

  She didn’t need Nick defending her. Her smile grew tighter. “Nick, he’s right. I’m not family.”

  Shelby locked gazes with the lawyer. “I’m also not my father. Or my mother. I’ve been employed by the Belle Creek for ten years and in those ten years, I’ve paid back every cent my daddy owed. I’d appreciate it if you would not confuse me with my parents.”

  As the lawyer started to stammer, she gave him a singularly sweet smile. “Are we clear on that, Mr. Mohler?”

  He nodded and fumbled with his papers. Nick gave her a winsome grin. She ignored it, far too upset inside. Well-mannered Southern girls did not speak back, especially not to wealthy attorneys. But she was so damn tired of people in Barlow bringing up her parents, as if they waited to see if she’d pass out cold in her home from drinking too much.

  Not that she really had a home. Her home depended upon the whims of what the family did with the ranch.

  Shelby’s troubled gaze flicked back to Nick. Not family. Silas’s only son, Nick. He was the sole owner of the ranch now.

  Nick stared back at her, the scar on his cheek turning white. “The will states Shelby can live here as long as I keep the ranch. What if I decide to sell?”

  “Then she, along with everyone else, will have to leave.” Kurt didn’t look at her.

  Felicity was rocking back and forth now, her jaw clenched so tight it could pound nails. The woman looked ready to rake her claws over Nick. Or scream. Or do both. But unlike Shelby, Felicity was a well-mannered Southern lady and she would not say a word.

  Not until she was alone in her bedroom with Dan. Shelby didn’t envy Dan for that.

  Jake leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “How much did Uncle Silas owe? He never told any of us about this.” His glance went to Shelby. “Not even Shelby here, who kept the books. Uncle Silas was very private about that.”

  “He was very far behind in payments, and the loan had a balloon due four months ago. The bank already started foreclosure. The total amount needed to prevent this is fifty-nine thousand, seven hundred and fifty. The bank needs this by the end of the month.”

  They had one month to come up with nearly sixty thousand dollars. She glanced at Nick. No, he had that time to come up with that cash.

  “The ranch is worth much more than the mortgage, Nick.” Kurt handed him a white business card. “Come and see me first thing Monday morning and we’ll go over everything, including Chuck’s offer to buy Belle Creek. He’s offering nearly a million in cash. I can help set up a meeting. Chuck is a business associate.”

  Shelby couldn’t think, could barely register what had just happened as Nick stood and shook the man’s hand. The lawyer exited,
and Felicity almost ran out of the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she left the Oriental carpet, her hapless husband trailing her. Jake looked stunned for a minute and then shrugged. He slapped Nick’s shoulder.

  “Welcome home, cousin. What a sly trickster that Silas is. Let me know if you’re going to sell and I’ll move my stuff in permanently with Lynn, not just my toothbrush. Maybe see about getting on with a horse farm in Kentucky.” Jake grinned and left.

  She was alone with Nick. He stood and went to Silas’s big mahogany desk. How many times had she seen the old man sit there, dusty boots sprawled across the faded Oriental rug, frown lines denting his forehead, much as they were denting Nick’s now? Silas had always brightened when she’d entered these hallowed quarters, inviting her to sit and talk.

  He’d made her feel comfortable and at home, not like the hired hand she had been. Silas would insist on brewing them a little tea, and they’d sit, as fancy as if they were sipping tea in the queen’s parlor. She’d tell him all about how Readalot performed his paces that day with Jake, and then how the horse kept nosing in her shirt pocket for the apple he knew she’d hidden as she curried him. Silas had listened to her, really listened, as his tired blue eyes met hers over his teacup.

  The thought that he wouldn’t be around anymore to listen to her talk about her day, ask in his deep, gravelly voice how she was doing, caused an unbearable clench of grief.

  Nick turned from the desk, with its neat piles of papers and files. His gaze was bleak. He lifted a hand to her and she saw he had the letter.

  “Shel...”

  Frozen in shock, she could only stare as a kaleidoscope of disastrous possibilities whirled through her mind. Nick was now in charge. Nick, who had kissed her and left, making her feel as abandoned as a shelter dog. Nick, who fought hard with Silas and didn’t care about the ranch’s legacy, or his heritage.

  “I didn’t want this,” he said, and the letter shook a little in his hand, as if a breeze caught it. “I need time to sort things out.”

  Time? “You have less than a month, by the look of things.” She tried to make her voice light, but an undercurrent of bitterness laced her tone. “The bank looks to foreclose if they don’t get sixty thousand dollars by then.”

  His eyes closed, and his long, dark lashes nearly swept over his elegant cheekbones. Such a handsome man, even with that sinister scar. It was a shame a man had such great lashes. No mascara for him.

  She realized she felt slightly hysterical.

  He opened his eyes, and a determined glint shone there. “You’ll always have a home here, Shel. You and your nephew.”

  “Sure.” Now there was no disguising the anger in her voice. “As long as the ranch remains in the family. Because as the lawyer said, I’m not family.”

  No longer could she remain here, trying to be civilized. Emotion boiled in her stomach and she walked out of the room, not bothering to close the door. Only when she reached the privacy of her apartment over the garage did the tears come. She let them flow. Grief was better than the haunting thoughts about the future stabbing her mind.

  Would Nick do as the lawyer suggested and sell the ranch? She couldn’t even entertain that possibility.

  Because if Nick decided to sell the ranch, it would be the worst for her. She and Timmy would be homeless, with no money, and nowhere else to go.

  Chapter 4

  Alone with the past.

  Nick sat in the big leather chair behind Silas’s desk, staring at the paneled walls of his father’s study. He’d always hated this room. It was here that Silas lectured him, yelled at him and then finally shook his head in disgust, announcing that Nick was useless.

  The day he ran off to join the navy, he never felt more determined to prove the old man wrong. He’d sweated, strained and broken bones to become a Navy SEAL.

  And swore he’d never return to this room. Well, here he was, the echo of his father’s voice bouncing off the walls, a ghost from the past.

  Nick fingered the letter the lawyer had given him. There had to be a reason why the old man gave him everything and dissed Dan. To torment Dan like Silas had tormented Nick? Only one way to find out. With grim amusement, he looked at his hands as he took the brass paper opener to slit open the envelope. Hands that had held a weapon steady while facing insurgents were now trembling.

  The old man certainly could be as scary as a terrorist at times. His psychological methods of wearing you down had honed Nick’s stubborn streak to never give up. Never quit.

  Unfolding the letter, he read the first two paragraphs. Unable to stomach more, he crumpled it up, his palm now shaking with anger, and threw the paper toward the empty fireplace. His father’s portrait, stern and stately, hung over the mantel.

  “Damn you to hell, Silas,” he said hoarsely to the painting. “Damn you.”

  Clever bastard knew Nick would not accept the ranch, and would sign his birthright over to Dan and leave nothing behind but dust in his wake. Except Silas hit on the one thing he knew would guarantee Nick would stay—challenging him not to fail.

  You are the only one who can save the Belle Creek from foreclosure or development, Nicolas. I leave this world counting on you. Don’t disappoint me and fail at this one thing I ask of you.

  All his life, the old man warned Nick would become his biggest disappointment. Never once did Silas say he was proud of Nick. Or even that he loved him.

  Eyes wet, he stared at the portrait. “Why couldn’t I ever be good enough for you?”

  All the medals he’d won, the missions he’d accomplished, the work he’d done with the teams, and Silas never said a word. Never reached out to the son who’d stormed out of here, angry at a father who thought him useless.

  Until now.

  Too late.

  He should call the lawyer, tell him he didn’t want the ranch and arrange to have Mohler deed it over to Dan. Dan and his ice-cold wife could have the place and decide to sell. Nick retrieved the letter and fished out his phone, ready to contact the man. And then a face stabbed at his brain.

  Shelby. If he did this, Shelby would be homeless. He wasn’t certain if Dan would let Shelby and Timmy stay at the ranch, rent-free.

  Nick smoothed out the paper and glanced at the letter again.

  I’m counting on you. Things are very bad at the Belle Creek.

  How bad was bad? The ranch never failed to earn money.

  For the next half hour, he sat at the desk, ruminating over the tremendous responsibilities Silas had saddled him with. Nick took out a piece of paper and a pencil, and began jotting notes. Seldom one to make snap decisions, he called Dan on his cell. Minutes later, his cousin joined him in the study. Face sullen, Dan crossed his arms at the chest and didn’t look at him.

  He leaned forward, keeping his voice low and earnest. “I’m sure this comes as quite a shock, Dan...”

  “I’ve worked here for years, and Belle Creek is my home,” Dan snapped. “How do you think I feel? Silas shut me out again. He never listened to me, or agreed to implement the ideas I had to make the ranch more child-and family-friendly. He was stuck in the past. And now everything I’ve poured into the ranch is about to go up in smoke. If you sell, I’m left with nothing. Nothing!”

  “I haven’t decided yet about selling.”

  “This is my home,” Dan said tightly. “My family’s home. More than yours. But it’s said and done. You going to sell?”

  Loaded question. “I need to evaluate all the angles.” Nick studied his cousin, seeing the worry lines denting his face, the purple shadows beneath his eyes. It wasn’t right. Dan had managed the ranch for years, and for Silas to cut him off entirely had been cruel. No matter what his father’s intentions, Nick knew he had to win his cousin’s loyalties first.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Nick tapped the pen
cil on the desk. “First thing Monday, I’ll go into town, see Kurt Mohler and draft a legal agreement. You and your family stay here at the Belle Creek, with you as manager of the ranch, and as soon as the bank is paid back, I’ll increase your salary by fifty percent and give you twenty-five percent of the ranch’s profits as soon as its operating in the black.”

  No tension left those rigid shoulders. “And if you sell?”

  “You get ten percent of the cash left over from the sale, after the bank is paid.” He thought of Jake and Shelby. “I’m offering similar deals, with less percentages, to Shelby and Jake.”

  Dan blew out a breath. “That’s a sweetheart agreement for you. I get a much smaller percentage if you cut everything and sell.”

  “It’s more than fair. Call it an incentive to keep the ranch operational. But the agreement also includes stipulations.” This was the hard part, and he wasn’t certain if Dan, who had run the ranch as he’d pleased, would agree. “Your salary goes into a fund to help operate the ranch and that includes paying the salaries of the stable hands. You’ll still live at the house, rent-free, and you’ll have an allowance for food, spending money and necessities. It’s the only way I can corral the expenditures until we come up with a way to pay back the bank. I’m going to trust you to help the ranch get back on its feet, but you have to trust me, too.”

  His mouth flattened as Dan leaned back. “You just returned, Nick. Why should I trust you won’t sell and run off?”

  “The legal agreement. It will bind us both here. First, tell me why Silas had no money. He was never one to carry debt. What happened?”

  His cousin didn’t meet his eyes. “Who knows? It’s expensive to run a ranch these days. If that’s all... I have to talk to Felicity about all this.”

  Dan pushed away from the chair, clearly finished with the conversation. He left, but in a considerably better temper than when he’d first walked into the study.

  Nick watched him leave, his mind clicking over the facts like a well-oiled machine. Now was not the time for emotions, and Dan’s were running high after the funeral.