Gravel Road

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Gravel Road Page 15

by Walls, Stephie


  Sarah left the room; I presumed to call her sister. And Jack gave me the third degree.

  “How could you let this happen?” His words were crisp and clear.

  I flinched. “Me? What did I do?”

  His nostrils flared, and I readied myself for the finger of blame. “You didn’t chase her.” He accentuated each word with his pointer aimed at me.

  “I was eighteen. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t even know why she’d left. Hell, I still don’t.” I couldn’t figure out the angle he played.

  Seconds earlier, he had acted as though nothing had ever gone down between the two of them. Now, he wanted to pretend it was my fault she’d never come home.

  Before he could answer, Sarah came back.

  “That was short,” I pointed out.

  Sarah ignored me and went to her father. “Randi’s on her way to the airport with Eason now.”

  It was just like her to run off when things got tough. Honestly, I’d expected more from Daddy Warbucks than I had Randi. Even if he’d logged more manicures than hours of physical labor, Eason appeared to be a stand-up guy. He just came wrapped in a suit instead of Wranglers.

  With Jack’s eyes downcast, he said to no one in particular, “Maybe I’ll see her next time.” Although, he had to doubt whether there would actually be a next time.

  Sarah waved her hand in the air, dismissing her father’s downtrodden words. “Nonsense. She’ll be here in about thirty minutes. She has to get a rental car.” And then she resumed her spot on the foam couch.

  That was my cue to leave. I stood and stuck my hands in my pockets.

  Sarah picked up a magazine and flipped it open. As she thumbed through it, staring directly at the page, she challenged me to take a step toward the door. “Sit down, Austin. We have things to figure out, and you are at the center of making it happen.”

  * * *

  The hair on the back of my neck stood before she had even entered the room. Other than the occasional encounter at the ranch, which I made certain were painful for her, I’d avoided her like the plague. If I could have gotten out of this room without having Sarah attack me, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. This was a family matter. They needed to decide what they wanted to do, how they intended to do it, and how they planned to pay for it. I was merely a hired hand in the scheme of things.

  Yet when she knocked on the door and then entered, it wasn’t me who played the part of the outsider. We were all on edge, and none of us knew what to expect. I assumed Jack would have some sort of reunion with the daughter he hadn’t seen in six years, but he didn’t so much as make a fuss over her. They didn’t hug. They didn’t even shake hands.

  “Randi.” Jack’s icy demeanor left me uncomfortable when only half an hour ago he’d demanded to see her.

  My attention shifted back and forth between them and then to Sarah, who hadn’t lifted her nose from the magazine to make any of this go smoother.

  Randi swallowed hard. “Miranda.”

  My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe she had corrected her own father. The father she hadn’t seen or spoken to in years. It was a statement. One that made no bones about the distance between them.

  “I know your name; I gave it to you.” This wasn’t going well. “Sit.”

  Eighteen-year-old Randi would have argued. Twenty-four-year-old Miranda did not. She assumed the seat next to her sister, folded her hands in her lap, and crossed her ankles. Randi held her father’s stare, yet she didn’t cross him.

  Once Jack had our attention, he commanded the room, and I traveled back in time to a place in my youth where I revered and feared the man before me. It was like old times. Sarah sat on her high horse, and Randi and I prepared to do the bidding.

  “We’ve got some problems at the ranch,” he started. “Together, we need to figure out how best to handle them.”

  Sarah closed the magazine and set it on the side table. Randi, Miranda, or whatever the hell her name was these days, cocked her head. I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. I could take direction from Jack without a problem. It wouldn’t be an issue for Sarah to lead the way. But Randi didn’t have a stake in this game. She needed to sit there and keep her mouth shut.

  When Jack looked at me, I didn’t try to hide the smug expression that crossed my face. “Austin, how long can we survive on what we’re currently doing?”

  And all the joy I’d had when he turned to me first died a quick death. “A few days at most.”

  Randi leaned forward and opened her mouth, then closed it. Open, close. Open, close. Like a fish. “I-I don’t understand. What exactly are we discussing here? I’ve definitely missed something.”

  Jack addressed his daughter like he would a hand, not like his offspring. “In case you missed the fire damage, the entire herd is in distress. We have a vet who needs to be paid to keep him around, medicine that needs to be purchased, land that’s been destroyed—”

  “Yes, I can look out my window every morning and see that. When is the adjuster coming out? Surely the vet has dealt with insurance companies before. And the guys don’t get paid until after they’ve worked.”

  This wasn’t my goat rodeo, but Jack and Sarah sat silent, so I spoke up. “It appears the insurance lapsed.”

  Jack immediately denied that accusation, yet all I could focus on was the fire those words lit in Randi’s eyes. The vein in her forehead—the one that made an appearance when she was angry—throbbed, and she stared me down like I’d been the one to cancel the policy. If I didn’t detest her, and if we didn’t have an audience, I might have stomped over to her, yanked her from that pile of foam she sat on, and forced my mouth to hers in the most aggressive display of ownership I could muster.

  Her lips curled in a snarl. “What do you mean the insurance lapsed?”

  It might have been the way she said it, or maybe how she glared at me. Either way, that momentary lapse of judgment disappeared when I bit back, “Did I stutter?”

  “How are we going to pay for all that needs to be done if the ranch isn’t insured?”

  I stood when she stood. The rest of the room fell away, and all that remained was Randi Adams and Austin Burin. I’d waited six years to go toe-to-toe with her. This wasn’t the topic I had planned to argue, although I’d take whatever I could get. Having the ability to unleash over something I was passionate about would serve the same purpose. I loved Cross Acres almost as much as I’d once loved her.

  I took a step toward her. She challenged me with one of her own in my direction. “The ranch has assets, Miranda.”

  “Are you suggesting we sell them, Austin?”

  Another step.

  My hands fit nicely in my pockets where I kept them to prevent her from seeing my balled fists. “Unless you have another suggestion,” I ground out. I’d started to talk through my teeth instead of actually opening my mouth.

  Step.

  Randi didn’t bother to conceal her agitation. Her left hand was firmly planted on her hip, and she used her right index finger to stab my chest. “Let me tell you something.” This should be good. “That ranch has been in our family for generations. Not one acre has ever been sold off to pay a debt. And we aren’t starting today.” She gave me one final push, and I held my ground.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t say anything about selling off the land. I said the ranch held assets, some of which currently double as liabilities. So, the way I see it, we have two options that—”

  She threw her head back and laughed. It was short-lived and clearly done for dramatic effect. “We?”

  I ignored her and kept talking. “Jack can either put a mortgage on the house, or he can sell off some of the herd.”

  “Who asked you?” she quipped.

  My chest heaved as I tried to contain my growing anger. I jerked my hand from my jeans and pointed at her father. “Your dad did!”

  She raised her brows, took a deep breath, and folded her thin arms under her breasts. “Last time I chec
ked, this was a family matter. And unless you’ve been adopted since I left, your last name isn’t Adams.”

  “It might not be written on my birth certificate, but I’m a helluva lot closer to being family than you’ve proven to be. You think you can waltz in here after six—”

  “Enough!” Jack bellowed.

  Miranda flinched, and I took a step back when I realized that we stood so close I could feel her breath on my skin.

  The door opened, and a nurse peeked her head in. I hadn’t considered the commotion our argument caused beyond the scope of this room. The nurse’s glare warned us without saying a word.

  Sarah materialized out of thin air and gently pushed Miranda and me apart. “Why don’t you both sit down and stop yelling before we all get thrown out?”

  We both backed away, holding the other’s stare. I never took my attention off the anger that radiated from Miranda. It oozed from every pore in her body, and it had gone from sexy as hell to downright ugly. She didn’t have a clue what Cross Acres was up against. None of them did. Jack hadn’t seen it, Sarah had never concerned herself with the financial piece, and Miranda had been gone her entire adult life. Come to think of it, I didn’t understand the need for either sister to even be in the room.

  “Jack,” I said as I broke the stronghold I had on his daughter, “I really think this is a matter for the two of us to discuss. Why don’t I come back another time?”

  Miranda couldn’t stay quiet. “Because of me? Is that why you want to leave?”

  Sarah attempted to soothe her sister. “No, Miranda. Of course not. It’s just a difficult time for everyone.”

  “Yes. It’s absolutely because of you,” I retorted. I refused to coddle her. “You don’t know the first thing about cattle ranching, much less what needs to be done. If you’re so concerned with your family’s estate, then pull your head out of your ass and recognize that your dad is in deep shit. We either liquidate in the very near future, or you won’t have to worry about the ranch since the bank will own it.”

  Sarah’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. As if time had slowed, she shifted her attention to her father, no longer caring about keeping Miranda and me from wringing each other’s necks. “Is that true, Daddy?” Fear laced her voice, and when she practically limped to his bedside, I could have slapped myself for losing my cool.

  Jack scratched at the beard covering his face. There was more grey than brown, and once again, he appeared older than his age. “If there’s a problem with the insurance like Austin says, then yeah.”

  My chest constricted at the pain I’d imparted on everyone in this room. I came here to talk to Jack because he needed to make some decisions. I hadn’t intended for Sarah or Miranda to be part of the discussion. They both had an emotional tie to that land, but they were out of their minds if they didn’t think I did, as well.

  Miranda helped Sarah back to the couch, and I took my seat in the plastic chair. The room was silent except for the occasional sniffle from my sister-in-law. My brother would kick my ass later for upsetting her.

  Jack cleared his throat, and all eyes shifted to him. It was like he sat on a throne in the hospital bed above us. I’d do whatever he told me to do. I just hoped he understood how dire the situation would become and how soon it would happen.

  “Austin?” he said.

  “Yes, sir?”

  If words could get lodged in his throat, Jack was choking on them. “What do we need to do?”

  “We need to sell off at least a thousand head to have viable pastures for the cows you keep.”

  Randi couldn’t stop herself from interjecting. “We still have the land.” Like somehow, I’d missed that the fire hadn’t actually devoured the land. What she’d missed was that the land no longer offered grazing for its occupants, nor did it have a fence surrounding it to contain anything we put in it.

  Instead of lashing out, I tried to explain that. I did not linger on that topic since it wasn’t open for discussion. “If it were me, I’d sell two thousand. One to make up for the food deficit and one to buy us some breathing room for medical needs. You won’t be able to sell off any of the animals that potentially face health issues.”

  If Jack took my advice, in what amounted to the blink of an eye, he would have lost a third of his herd. And if we could have this discussion anywhere else with any other company, I would tell him I wasn’t sure that was enough. It was just a starting point.

  “Or I can mortgage the farmhouse?” he asked. The innocence in his tone not only concerned me, it obviously took his daughters by surprise, too.

  I tilted my head to consider his expression. “I wouldn’t do that, Jack. You can rebuild the herd. It will take some time, but you can. It’s the best solution. It solves the manpower issues by not forcing us to haul hay or bring in tons of additional help from around the state—help that is scarce at this point, mind you. Also, we won’t have to rebuild fences immediately, the irrigation in the south pastures can hold off, and it would fund the medical treatment.”

  He nodded his consent. And I confirmed my understanding. The lack of verbal acknowledgment told me how hard this decision was for their father. And I could only imagine how difficult it would be to allow someone my age to make the choice and agree with it.

  Miranda refused to let it go that easily, or what she perceived to be easily. “That’s it? You’re going to let Austin dictate what happens to Cross Acres without so much as a fight? You have insurance, Daddy. You don’t need to sell off any of the herd, and you certainly don’t need a loan from the bank.” Her head swung between the three of us, trying to get someone to agree with her.

  Cross Acres should have a surplus of funds. The insurance should have been in place. None of this should have been an issue. But I’d tried to use the credit card Jack gave me for the ranch this week, and it had been denied. I’d spoken to no less than twelve people at the insurance company, and the premiums weren’t paid. The cash dried up, and only Jack knew when. Just like whatever had happened with Miranda the night she left Mason Belle, I’d bet Jack would take that secret to the grave, too.

  Jack ignored Miranda’s outburst and addressed me. “Austin, do what you have to do. I trust your judgment.”

  Miranda shot up from the sofa and lunged across the room. I assumed an attack was imminent, so I got up to prepare myself. Instead, she brushed past me, not the least bit gracefully, tore open the door, and stomped out.

  When I turned back, still unsure of what had just happened, Jack and Sarah both stared at me as if I held the answers, or maybe the key. “Not quite the reunion you envisioned, huh, Jack?” I huffed, exasperated by Miranda’s reappearance in my life.

  To my surprise, he didn’t agree with me. “She’s home. Let’s figure out how to keep her here.”

  It was official. The man was bat-shit crazy. Certifiably insane. If either he or Sarah believed I’d aid in that attempt, they’d both lost their ever-loving minds. Miranda Adams needed to go back to where she came from, and if necessary, I’d help her pack and drive her to the airport.

  9

  Miranda

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with him?” I asked Sarah after the two of us had struggled to get Daddy situated upstairs.

  She scowled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I pursed my lips, glanced at the steps, and then back to my sister. I held up my hands in surrender. Far be it from me to question her judgment. She’d been here. I had to trust that she knew what she was capable of and what was too much.

  “It’s not like there aren’t people all over the place, Randi.” She caught herself. “Sorry, Miranda. If I need help, I’ll get one of the guys. What is it that you think is going to happen?”

  I couldn’t answer that question without upsetting her, so I shrugged. I was making too big a deal out of this. Daddy wasn’t an invalid; he just had a hard time breathing and got winded easily. Sarah was one of those people who needed to be needed, and this provided her with that outlet. The
girls had gone back to school today, and Rand was running around the ranch, leaving her with mounds of time on her hands. She defaulted to playing nurse to Daddy to fill that void.

  “Where are you going to be?” She considered me quizzically.

  Avoiding her son probably wasn’t an answer she cared to hear, and I doubted replacing Rand’s name with Austin’s in that sentiment would endear me to her, either. “Helping out wherever I can.” Meaning, I’d find Corey, Tommy, or Brock and beg them to shove their crap work my way to keep myself away from their foreman.

  Sarah leaned her hip against the banister in the foyer. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

  I played dumb. “Avoid who?” I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out exactly who she meant.

  And then she gave me a look that said just that.

  “Ugh. I’m not avoiding him. I’m just not interested in talking to him.” I glanced over my shoulder and out the glass in the front door to ensure no one might walk in. “Look, Sarah, I want to do whatever you and Daddy expect me to and then go home.”

  “You mean back to New York?”

  Unless she knew something I didn’t, that was where I lived. “Well, yeah.”

  Her eyes narrowed with mischief. “Okay.”

  “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She offered me a nonchalant shake of the head. “Nothing.”

  I waited.

  “You may live there, Miranda, but it’s not your home. You’re going to end up hurting a great guy when you finally admit that to yourself.”

  She needed to get over this whole Austin bit. “I hurt Austin six years ago. He’ll probably throw me a thank-God-you’re-leaving party and shove me toward the plane. Plus, my entire life is in New York.”

  Sarah smirked, pushed off the stairs, and strolled toward the kitchen. “Your entire life used to be in Mason Belle.” She walked and talked. She also effectively dismissed me and ended the conversation.

 

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