The Crown Jewels (44 page)

“Yes,” he replied, turning slightly towards me finally. “They hated each other, from what I hear.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” I said, looking over at Johnson, silently pleading for a little help.

“Gentleman, we’re here today to discuss the details of LaCroix’s estate,” Johnson began. “As I mentioned to you both previously, the Hope’s were close friends with Olly, and he generously helped them out when they hit a rough patch with the farm.”

I nodded, stealing a sideways glance at Lincoln, but he sat stone-faced and staring at Johnson again.

“Crit’s parents were lost in a tragic accident a year ago, and they were unable to pay back Olly’s loan before they passed,” Johnson continued. “So, that brings us here today to try to come to some sort of amicable agreement to rectify this situation.”

“As you know, Lincoln, your uncle left a sizable inheritance to you, since your mother has passed as well, and you are the sole remaining heir. This includes all proceeds from his portfolio of stocks and bonds, and his hundred and fifty acre estate that borders the Hope’s farm.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Lincoln replied, looking down at his watch. “Can we speed this up? I have a conference call in an hour.”

“Of course,” Johnson replied. “Everything is very cut and dry, except for this one issue of the Hope’s farm. I called this meeting today with the hope of working out an agreement between the two of you to either forgive the loan completely, or work out some other mutually agreeable arrangement.”

“How big is this farm?” Lincoln asked.

“Not big at all, honestly,” I replied. “Five acres, which includes our house, crops, horse barn and pasture.”

“How much was this loan my uncle gave them and how much is still owed?” Lincoln asked Johnson, ignoring me completely.

“Well, sir, Olly lent the Hopes one hundred thousand dollars. None of it has been paid back.”

“Not a penny?” Lincoln asked.

“No, sir. The Hopes had every intention of paying it back, though. They just hadn’t been able to get back on their feet just yet, but I know if they were alive, they would make good on their promise as soon as they were able.”

“So the Hope farm is mine, then, too?” Lincoln asked. My stomach sank at his question and I knew exactly where this conversation was headed. I sat silently listening to the two of them, my head spinning.

“Technically, yes, but as I said, the Hope’s died in a car accident a year ago, and Crit and his siblings have been running the farm themselves. It’s an active farm, and Crit is doing a wonderful job taking care of everything.”

“Well, isn’t that adorable?” he asked, finally looking - no,
sneering
- at me.

“Lincoln, now like I said, I know we got off on the wrong foot at Norma’s. But I’m willing to sweep all of that under the rug and figure something out between the two of us.”

“You are, are you?” he scoffed, before turning back to Johnson. “This all seems pretty clear to me. If they give me the hundred thousand, plus interest, of course, then they can have their farm.”

“Lincoln, with all due respect, your uncle would never make a demand like that.”

“No? Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t very successful in business, then, wouldn’t you say? You can’t just go around giving loans and then not doing anything about it when they don’t pay it back.”

“My parents were good friends with your uncle,” I said. “This wasn’t just a normal business transaction.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all good, but now it is.”

“Would you accept payments?” Johnson asked.

“I think we’re way past the point of making payment arrangements. Besides, I’m a very busy man, and I don’t have time to deal with this. Just get the money, give it to me, and then you get your deed back. That’s how things work in the real world.” His arrogance was so blatant, so distasteful, so unlike his uncle that I began to wonder if he was really any relation to LaCroix at all. “Until then, I’d like to see my uncle’s estate and this Hope farm, as well.”

There was no way in hell I was going to be able to come up with that amount of money, and a slow bubble of anxiety began building inside of me. I wouldn’t be able to get a loan, either, because the only collateral I had was the farm, and apparently, I didn’t even have that anymore. I was never one to let anyone see me sweat, though, and I wasn’t about to start with this asshole.

“I’d be happy to show you around my farm,” I replied, putting a little extra emphasis on the word ‘my’.

There was only one way this prick was going to get my farm, and that was over the dead bodies of me and my three siblings.

Ruby

“Really? A private plane?” George asked incredulously.

“I know! I about peed my pants when we pulled up to it!” George and I were at Norma’s, and I was telling her all about my date with Lincoln. I was still reeling from it, doing my damnedest not to be impressed, but I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t every day a girl was wined and dined by a man like Lincoln. He was handsome, charming, and rich. What more could a woman want?

As if to answer my question, Crit walked in the door, his arms full with two boxes of produce. He put them on the counter, and turned to scan the diner. Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. There was something about Crit that caused an extreme physical reaction every time he was near me. It never failed.

Today, though, there was something different in his eyes. Something that I hadn’t seen for a long time. In fact, I hadn’t seen him look like that since his parents died. I wanted to run to him, and hold him in my arms until all the little wrinkles on his forehead had disappeared.

Stop it
, I thought to myself.
Don’t let him under your skin again.

As he walked over to our table, I tried to resist his magnetic pull, reminding myself of his rudeness the last time we talked.

Don’t give in to him, Ruby Rae
, I thought, trying to push all thoughts of his touch, the long, wild nights of love making, and his passionate kisses that curled my toes, out of my mind. Lincoln’s face flashed in my mind, and I took a deep breath as I tried to keep it there.

It was no use, though. Crit’s eyes were glued to mine, and my body didn’t listen to a damn thing my mind was telling it. By the time he made it to our table, my panties were soaked.

He tipped his hat, forever a gentleman.

“Ladies,” he drawled.

“Hey Crit,” I said, trying my best to sound aloof. I pulled my eyes away and looked out the window instead of drinking in his powerful arms, his strong body, and the relentless sexiness that oozed from him.

“Hi,” George mumbled, her mouth full of fries.

“Hey, sis, listen, we need to have a family meeting tonight,” he said.

“I’ve got dinner plans with Beau,” she protested.

“I don’t care. You can have dinner with him any ol’ time. Be at the house at eight.”

“But —,” she began. I knew she had cooked a pot roast in her slow cooker, because she had told me all about it before I began telling her about my date with Lincoln.

“But nothing. Be there. It’s important, goddammit,” he growled, before turning and storming away. Not even a ‘goodbye, Ruby’ or a ‘kiss my ass’ before leaving.

Fine
, I thought.
Good riddance!

He left the diner in a huff, and as I watched his back disappear down the street, I sighed with regret. Regret for all that could have been, and all that never was.

“What’s wrong with you?” George asked, her eyes squinting suspiciously at me. “You were just brimming with joy about Lincoln, and now you look like you just lost your best friend.”

I almost did it, right then and there. I almost told George that I had been sleeping with her brother for over a year, that I was madly in love with him, that all I could do was think about him. But then, I thought,
what’s the point of telling her now, now that it was over
?

I shook my head, smiled, and lied. Just like I always did. Just like I always would.

“Sorry, Georgie, but you’re my best friend, and I don’t ever intend on losing you!”

Crit

I paced up and down the barn aisles like a bull for the rest of the day, ignoring my chores. Luckily, the horses were out to pasture, or they sure as hell would have picked up on my rage and freaked out in their stalls.

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. I had tried in vain all day to come up with some idea, some solution, some way to convince this fella to give me the deed to my farm back. It irked my hide to be in this position.

I felt like a failure, and I hadn’t even done anything to get in this situation. I couldn’t blame my parents, though. They had done what was right for them at the time. They never intended to leave me with this burden. Hell, they never intended to leave us at all.

They didn’t even have life insurance when they died, leaving us to figure it all out on our own. I was still trying to forgive them for that oversight.

I sure wished I could go to my Pa for advice, though.

My siblings would have to do. I had debated whether to tell them what was going on or not, but in the end, I knew it wouldn’t be fair to keep them in the dark.

It was their farm, too.

By the time I got all the horses in and fed, the sun was setting in the horizon. I looked over the perfect rows of crops, the land I had worked with my own two hands, pouring sweat and blood every day, doing my damnedest to keep the legacy that my parents had built alive. The thought of losing it all wrecked me. Where would we all go? What the hell would we all do without this place?

No, leaving wasn’t an option.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of whiskey and downed it and then another. Maybe if I could fucking relax a little, I could come up with some solution to all of this bullshit.

George came in the door fifteen minutes past eight, and Jesse and Seth came in from practice five minutes after that. By the time they arrived, I was pissed and buzzed from the whiskey.

“It’s about fucking time!” I yelled at them.

“What the hell, we’re barely late, Crit,” George said, sniffing the air and eyeing the almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the kitchen counter. “Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not fucking drunk, I just had a few drinks,” I growled.

“Whatever. What’s so fucking important anyway?” she replied.

“Y’all need to sit down,” I said. After they had arranged themselves around Ma’s antique dining table, they looked over at me for an explanation. The last thing I wanted to do was tell them the bad news. This farm was the only stability any of us had, and I was about to take that away from the people I loved the most.

“I got a call from Barnard Johnson the other day,” I began. “Old man LaCroix died.”

“I heard that,” Seth said. “I guess it’s been a long time coming,” he said, echoing the words of my newly acquired enemy, Lincoln LaCroix.

“Yeah, I guess, but that’s not the issue,” I replied.

“Well, are you just going to keep us guessing or what?” George asked, her voice full of frustration.

“You know what, George? This farm is part yours, and I know you’re all cozied up and married to the Haggards now, but it’d do you good to remember where you came from,” I snapped.

“That’s a load of bullshit, Crit. You know I do my job here,” she replied, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Forget it,” I replied. “Listen, here’s what’s going on. Johnson called me because Ma and Pa took out a loan from LaCroix before they died.”

“What kind of loan? Why would they do that?” Jesse asked. I looked over at my brother, remembering all the pain and heartache we had been through over the last year, remembering the fires, and the look in his eye when he finally fessed up to setting all of them. He had made so much progress in the last few months, and the last thing I wanted to do was set him back. But I had to go on, and hope he was somehow strong enough to handle it all now.

“I suppose they fell on hard times. We had a few light crops for several years there, and they needed money.”

“Well, what does this have to do with us?” Seth asked.

“Ma and Pa never paid LaCroix back.”

“Well, okay, but he’s dead now, so what does it matter?”

“I’m not being clear here, I guess. If y’all would stop asking so many damned questions, I could get it all out,” I said, my voice raising higher than I wanted it to. My plan was to keep my cool to avoid worrying them, and I was already doing a piss-poor job of that.

“Well, go on!” George said.

“Everyone thinks LaCroix didn’t have any heirs, but that isn’t true,” I continued. “His sister, Lucille, who died five years ago, had a son. So LaCroix has a nephew. I met with that nephew today, and he’s not interested in negotiating.”

“He lives here?” George asked.

“No, he’s some fancy investment fella from New York. We ran into him the other day, actually. The guy that was yelling at Sammie at Norma’s diner.”