Mindy Obenhaus - Their Ranch Reunion

She set the glass, along with another cookie, in front of her. “He’s the one who played cards with you, me and Livie a couple of years ago.”

“When Ms. Livie’s daughter died, right?”

“That’s him.” She ruffled Megan’s straighter-than-straight strawberry blond hair, a trait she definitely didn’t inherit from her mother. But after decades of fighting her natural curls, Carly had finally learned to embrace them. “You have a good memory.”

“Why is he at Ms. Livie’s house now, though?” Megan picked up the second cookie. “I thought she gave it to you.”

Carly cringed. She’d had no business mentioning that to Megan until the estate had been settled. Yet in her excitement over the news all those months back, she’d blurted it out without thinking.

“She gave me half of it. And she gave Andrew the other half.”

“Which half is yours?”

Carly puffed out a laugh. She could only imagine what was going through her daughter’s nine-year-old mind. As if Carly and Andrew could just slap a piece of tape down the middle.

“Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple.” And if she couldn’t get Andrew to sell her his half, she’d be stuck taking in people’s accounting books until Megan graduated college.

Megan stood, dusting the crumbs from her hands. “Can I go over there?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now.” If ever. At least, not with Andrew there. Mr. Serious likely wouldn’t tolerate kids.

Still, she couldn’t help wondering what he was up to. Not after catching him removing baseboards this morning. Baseboards he’d better plan on putting back, because she wasn’t about to stand by and let him strip the home of its character.

“On second thought, maybe we should go over there and say hi.” And if their presence happened to remind him that she was keeping tabs on him, so be it.

Megan paused at the island, looking very serious. “We should take him some cookies.”

Hand perched on her hip as she watched her daughter, Carly wasn’t sure how she felt about the suggestion. However, it was Livie who’d always said you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. And right about now, there was one big fly Carly was interested in catching.

“I think that’s a terrific idea.”

* * *

“Well, that’s just great.”

Andrew dropped his phone on the counter in his grandmother’s kitchen. He’d been calling his attorney’s cell all afternoon. When he finally decided to try the office, he learned that the man was in court and wouldn’t be available until tomorrow.

He blew out a frustrated breath. This was not how he’d envisioned this day playing out.

Pushing away from the cabinet, he paced the ugly gold-and-brown vinyl floor while he waited for a pot of coffee to brew. He knew it was a long shot, but perhaps Ned could find a way to get Grandma’s will overturned and the original reinstated. Then all of his problems would be solved.

You and Carly are just going to have to find a way to work it out.

Hmph. Dad always did look at things simplistically. The only thing simple about the dispute between him and Carly was the fact that they both wanted this house.

As the coffeemaker spewed out its last efforts, Andrew grabbed a mug from the cupboard. If it hadn’t been for Carly, he could have had at least one wall taken down by now. Enough to give him an idea of how the house was going to look with an open concept. Instead, he was left with a whole lot of nothing to do.

Leaning against the counter, he took a sip. He’d loved his grandmother dearly, but leaving her house to both him and Carly had to be the craziest idea she’d had since she went white-water rafting down the Uncompahgre River at the age of eighty-three. Except for sharing a game of cards after his mother’s funeral, he and Carly had barely spoken in seventeen years. Not since the day she turned down his marriage proposal and walked out of his life forever.

Relegating the unwanted memories to the darkest corner of his mind, he scanned the sorry-looking kitchen. While he wasn’t about to give up on getting his grandmother’s old will reinstated, he could still be proactive, just in case things didn’t work out the way he hoped. Near as he could tell, there were only two ways out of this predicament. And since selling his half to Carly was out of the question, that left him with only one option—he’d have to buy out Carly’s half of the house. Something that chafed him more than he cared to admit.

Aside from paying for something that was rightfully his to begin with, he’d have to come up with an offer better than hers. Sweeten the deal, so to speak, making it too good to refuse. Much like the company who’d just bought him out. And left him with a tidy chunk of change. Carly would be able to do whatever she liked with Granger House and leave this house—and him—alone.

“Hello, hello.” As though he’d willed her to appear, Carly pushed open the back door, knocking as she came.

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was still one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. The kind that could take your breath away with her natural beauty.

Her blond curls brushed across her shoulders as she held the door, allowing a young girl to enter first.

Her daughter had grown quite a bit since the last time he’d seen her. What was her name? Maggie? No, Megan.

“Hi.” The girl smiled up at him with blue eyes reminiscent of her mother’s and waved. In her other hand she held a small plate covered with plastic wrap. “We brought you cookies.” She handed them to him.

So these were Carly’s weapons of choice. Children and food. Ranked right up there with little old ladies.

His conscience mentally kicked his backside. Dad was right. Carly wasn’t the type to try to steal his grandmother’s house. However, that didn’t mean he was simply going to hand it over.

While Megan wandered off as though she lived there, he set the plate on the counter and helped himself to a cookie. “Snickerdoodles. How did you know I was in need of a snack?” He took a bite.

The feisty blonde watched him suspiciously. “What brings you back here?”

He chased the first homemade treat he’d had in a long time with a swig of coffee. “I’m—”

“Uh-oh.” Megan’s voice echoed from the next room. “Somebody made a mess.”

After a moment, Carly tore her gaze away from him and started into the front room.

Andrew set his cup on the counter and followed.

Rounding the corner into the home’s only living space, he saw Megan pointing at the small stack of baseboards he’d begun to remove this morning. Before his plans were rerouted by Carly.

“I was doing a little work.”

Carly lifted a brow. “I’m not sure what kind of work it was, but you need to put those back.”

Irritation sparked. Who was she to start giving him orders?

“Whose is this?” Now on the other side of the room, Megan rocked back and forth in his grandmother’s glider, pointing to the duffel he’d left by the front door. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the kid nosy, but she was definitely curious. Not to mention observant.

“That would be mine.” He turned to find Carly watching him.

Both brows were up in the air this time. “Planning to stay a while?”

This was ridiculous. He should not be interrogated in his own house. “As a matter of fact, I am. For several weeks. Which reminds me—” he crossed his arms over chest “—I think we need to set up a time to talk.” Glancing at Megan, he lowered his voice. “Privately.”

Mirroring his stance, Carly said, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“At least we’re in agreement about something.”