Bonnie Vanak - Navy Seal Protector

“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 pencil 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.”