Bonnie Vanak - Navy Seal Protector

Now, as they sat in Silas’s downstairs study in the farmhouse, Nick looked neither. Guarded, perhaps. No...wary. And quite uncomfortable, as was she. The last thing she wanted to do, after the emotion of the funeral and the strain of helping to host the reception at the house afterward, was to listen to the reading of the will. She only wanted to collect Timmy from the downstairs rec room, where he was playing with Mason and Miles, then go to her apartment. Maybe take Timmy riding on his pony later.

Lord knew they needed to return to some form of normalcy.

Normal certainly had not been last night, when she’d gotten Timmy from this house. Nick had been in the hallway, leaning against the staircase, his long, muscled body looking hot as sin as he’d hooked his fingers through the loops of his belt hoops. He looked ready for sex.

It had taken all her willpower to murmur a polite greeting and tear her gaze away from him instead of ogling him like a schoolgirl. Fortunately, Felicity had been in a hurry and practically threw Timmy into Shelby’s arms. She’d made a quick introduction of Timmy, and then fled with her nephew as if a blond devil was on her heels.

Today’s somber occasion reminded her that Nick was only here temporarily. Shelby was certain he’d leave right after this. Perhaps even faster than the last time he’d gone away, leaving only the angry rubber of his tread marks on the front drive.

Silas’s lawyer, Kurt Mohler, had gathered them together in this room. Shelby sat straight in the leather chair, trying to keep her nerves from jumping like water on a hot skillet. She doubted Silas had left her anything in his will, but her main concern was keeping her little apartment above the garage, at least until Heather and Pete returned from Iraq.

On the leather sofa, Dan and Felicity and Dan’s younger brother, Jake, looked attentive.

She and Nick perched on the wing chairs near the sofa, while Kurt, who seemed restless, paced before the fireplace. Finally the lawyer turned.

“Silas made his last wishes very plain and clear. Daniel, I want you to know that as the family lawyer, if you wish to contest his will, you have the right to do so. However, it will be a lengthy court battle, which is something I’m sure you can’t afford.”

Her stomach clenched in tight knots. This wasn’t a good start.

Dan frowned. “Why would we want to do that? Uncle Silas was always good to us.”

Kurt removed a gold pen from his suit pocket and began fiddling with it. “As you know, the ranch is deeply in debt.”

She watched Nick frown, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized the attorney. Judging from his reaction, Nick had no idea how bad things were around here. Having done the books for the ranch, she thought she knew. But Silas also liked to handle the family’s personal bills himself and there was the matter of the ranch mortgage.

He’d never let her know the exact amount, only muttered that he’d take care of it.

“How much in debt?” Nick demanded.

Dan stiffened. “That’s not for public knowledge.”

Without his gaze leaving the attorney’s face, Nick snapped, “I’m not the public.”

“All parties in this room need to know what liabilities Silas faced, as well as the assets he owned,” Kurt assured him. “It’s why I asked all of you here.”

The attorney looked at Nick. “Silas took out an equity loan on the house to pay for repairs, using the ranch as collateral. His estate owes the bank two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on the mortgage. I’m afraid he fell behind in payments.”

Dread curled through her. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! She’d known it was bad, but not that bad. Silas had been nonchalant when he’d mentioned he owed money. No wonder he always looked so pinched and worried.

“What about the assets?” Felicity asked.

The woman had a poker face. If she had shed a single tear, Shelby hadn’t seen it. Felicity hadn’t always been this cold and brittle. Not until all the mysterious incidents started around the ranch, and Silas had mentioned that money was tight.

Secretly Shelby wondered about the odd coincidence of the sabotage happening concurrently with Silas’s announcement. Dan managed the ranch. He knew Silas owed money, and maybe he’d mentioned it to his wife. Felicity had high standards. She’d insisted on the elaborate renovations to the house. Was she also behind the vandalism as well, acts designed to make Silas sell the ranch?

“The assets are the ranch and the house and all the outbuildings, a life insurance policy, a policy to pay for the funeral and all associated costs only, and a very small investment account.” Kurt stooped and looked at them grimly. “There is a very good offer on the table for the ranch, and the house, from Chuck Beaufort. More than enough to pay off the loan, with a nice sum to purchase a new house in a good part of town.”

Dan looked uncertain. Felicity reached over and squeezed her husband’s hand. “What does Mr. Beaufort plan to do with the ranch? He’s a developer, not a farmer.”

Kurt’s gaze was impassive. “He has plans for a theme park, which will bring in plenty of tourists and new business to town. The view of the mountains is splendid from the pasture.”

Clenching her teeth, Shelby fisted her hands in her lap. Chuck Beaufort would take the serene pastures and the wild, overgrown forest, with its tangle of brush, and bulldoze everything. The Belle Creek had been in the family for generations. Maybe she didn’t have any kind of family connection to the place, but it had been the only real home she’d ever had.

How could the lawyer propose they sell? Had he ever ridden over the lush pastures at dawn in spring, fresh dew beading the grass, the leaden sky bursting into gold as the sun peaked over the mountaintops of the Smokies?

Had he ever hung on a fence railing, listening to the wind sweep over the hills, watching the children play in the yard as the horses peacefully cropped the grass? The air was so pure and fresh here, it hurt her heart to think of the ranch turning into a concrete playground for wealthy people.

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.”