HorsingAround (6 page)

He came around to the passenger side and helped her out of his truck. Taking her hand, he led along the sidewalk, past a small hardware store, a flower shop and a bank.

“Morning, Jake,” a middle-aged woman said as she passed them going the other way.

He tipped his hat.
“Morning.”

“Ida has blueberry muffins just out of the oven.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Murphy. I’ll stop by.”

When he didn’t explain the conversation, Paige squeezed his hand and glanced back at the woman. “Who’s Ida?”

He pointed to a coffee shop across the street. “She owns
The Morning Brew
over there. Best muffins in the state if you ask me.”

A passing pickup honked and its driver smiled.

“Hey, Walter.”
Jake waved at the man. “That was Walter Bradley. He owns a nursery over on 441.”

She could count on one hand the number of friends and acquaintances she ran into on the streets of New York in an entire year. Something about the small town atmosphere of this place appealed to her. And strolling along the sidewalk hand in hand with Jake felt way too good.

It’s not my reality.

She dropped his hand and hugged her arms around her body. “Shouldn’t I get to my appointment? I don’t want to be late.”

He stopped and fixed her with a probing stare. She diverted her gaze. Silently, he started back to his truck, moving so fast she could hardly keep up.

When he opened the passenger door for her, she held her breath as she moved past him and climbed inside. Why get too used to his scent when she’d be leaving soon?

He started the engine then steered out of the lot a bit faster than she’d have liked. What had she done to piss him off? Could he have sensed her reluctance to get too comfortable in this cozy little town? But why pretend they were starting a real relationship when they both knew it would end as soon as she left the state. Sadness encased her heart at the mere thought of never seeing him again.

It took less than five minutes to get to her appointment. The truck screeched to an abrupt stop in front of a two-story gray building. Jake scrubbed a hand over his face and drew a loud breath. “You’ll find William O’Neil’s office to the right.
First door.
I gave him my cell number so he can call me when you two are through.”

With a firm nod, she started to open the door, but Jake grabbed her arm. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Before she could ask what he meant, he pulled her into a strong embrace and kissed her—a long, slow, remember-me kiss. When he released her, she could only stare wide-eyed at his handsome face.

Grasping her arms, he leaned closer until his face was only a few inches from hers. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

She merely nodded and climbed out of the truck. Moments later she walked into the law offices of William J. O’Neil, Jr. A blast of overly air-conditioned air sent a shiver across her skin.

“Welcome, Miss Eastman. Bill O’Neil.” The man barely came up to Paige’s nose, but his massive girth more than made up for what he lacked in height. He pumped her hand then gestured toward a seat opposite an imposing oak desk.

He had no receptionist, no waiting area, only a big room with several paintings of horses on the walls. Paige sat on a hard wooden chair and folded her hands on her lap. Her stomach roiled.

“As I told you over the phone, I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I didn’t know your father well, but he seemed like a nice fellow.” His smile was less than convincing.

“Thank you.” She rubbed the goose bumps from her arms.

O’Neil handed her a folder with her father’s name neatly printed on the tab. “Owen left you everything.
His stake in the business and the house.”
A frown settled on his round face. “He only had about ten thousand in equity in the house.
Refinanced it a few months ago.
And as for the Circle O, well…” He gave his head a heavy shake. “I’m afraid it’s a losing proposition. Financials are in there.” He pointed to the file in her hand.

She opened the folder and scanned the printout. Every year since it had opened three years ago, the ranch had taken a substantial loss. A dull ache started behind her eyes. Why hadn’t Jake told her? He had to know. Had he purposely kept it from her? Another man she couldn’t trust.

Did he have ulterior motives for making love to her? No. She knew he’d never stoop that low. She shut the file and drew a steadying breath. “What’s your advice?”

“Get rid of it.” He swept his arm across the desk. “Put the whole
shootin
’ match on the market and walk away.”

But if they shut it down, sold off the property, what would Jake do? “What about his business partner?”

He wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead. “You have to protect your own interests, Miss Eastman. Why throw good money after bad.” Drumming his thick fingers on the desk, he shrugged. “Now, if Mr. Skinner wants to buy you out, I’d go for it. Make it
his
problem.
Better than sitting on it for a year or two until the market improves.”

Her chest tightened at the notion of forcing Jake off the ranch he so dearly loved. But she didn’t have any other choice. Staying in business when the place was running in the red seemed out of the question. Why hadn’t he told her?

Because he probably doesn’t have the assets to buy me out.

That would explain why he’d neglected to broach the subject of an offer. Sadness and regret swirled inside her, but she could hardly throw more money into an unprofitable venture.

For the next half hour, they went over the list of her father’s assets—furniture, a small personal checking account, an old pickup truck. But Paige couldn’t focus. All she could think about was Jake. She’d have to use common sense rather than her emotions to choose her path.

She prayed her decision wouldn’t devastate the man she’d so quickly grown to care about.

* * * * *

Jake shoved through the glass doors out to the bank parking lot. Marching to his pickup, he gritted his teeth. Maybe another bank would agree to loan him what he needed to buy out Paige’s share of the ranch.

Yeah, right.

The stuffed-shirt loan officer had spelled it out in black and white. He didn’t have enough collateral to justify such a loan.
Period.
Same thing the banker he’d met with earlier said.

Paige probably knew by now the Circle O had been losing money. And that he’d kept that information from her. If only he hadn’t trusted Owen to handle the financial end of things. How could he have known the man didn’t have
an inkling
about running a business?

It’s my own fault. I should have kept tabs on him.

But he’d been so eager to take on the day-to-day operations—the fun part—that he’d neglected to keep an eye on the tedious financial side of it. By the time he’d discovered the gravity of the situation it was too late. Owen had a heart attack and died days later.

In the nearly two months since his partner’s death, Jake had tried to undo some of the damage, made an attempt to rein in expenses, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Given a year, maybe two, he knew he could straighten it out, make the Circle O run in the black. But he probably wouldn’t get the opportunity.

When the lawyer called his cell, he headed over to collect Paige.

He wasn’t terribly surprised when she climbed inside and mumbled a halfhearted hello. Her pale complexion and drawn eyebrows confirmed she’d taken the news hard. He ventured another glance at her, but she stared straight through the windshield, refused to look at him. The knowledge that he’d caused her any grief tightened his gut sure as a lasso.

He drove her back to the ranch, neither of them uttering a single word until they turned into the drive.

“My group should start arriving within the hour,” he told her. “Tour leaves at one-fifteen from the area behind the stables.”

“Okay. Thanks for the lift.” She climbed out of the truck and headed inside the house. His chest ached as he watched her, wondered if she’d even show up for the tour. She probably already had her mind made up to sell the place. The prospect of losing the ranch was too painful to dwell on. He’d sunk every penny he had into the business but the damage Owen had inflicted would take more time to rectify.

For now, he had too much to do to get ready for his group. He shook off his gloom and headed to the stables.

An hour later, he helped an elderly woman onto the wagon as Rosebud and Goliath whinnied impatiently. Paige had yet to arrive. Apparently she’d already made her decision. This might be one of his last tours.

As he stepped up to the driver’s seat, she rounded the corner of the stables. He allowed a glimmer of hope to lighten his mood. Anyway, he ought to put on his game face for the benefit of the paying guests.

Paige approached the wagon.
“Room for one more?”

“Yes, ma’am.”
He offered her a hand up.

After she’d settled onto a seat under the canopy, he gave her a wink,
then
addressed the group. “Welcome to the horse capital of the world, folks. Are any of you from around here?”

No one spoke up.

“So I can make stuff up and y’all won’t know the difference, huh?” He waited for the usual chuckles and smiles. When he got them, he continued. He motioned toward the horses hitched to the trolley. “Rosebud and Goliath here are shires. Shire horses are the tallest of the modern draught breeds. These babies weigh close to a ton each. We’re going to view some of Marion County’s finest horse farms this afternoon. Many breeds are raised here. We’ll see Thoroughbreds, Tennessee Walkers, Paso
Finos
and many others. So keep your cameras ready.”

Paige watched the faces light up as Jake spoke. He definitely had a way with people, easily earning smiles and laughter. At each stop along the tour, at least one person would ask a question and Jake always knew the answer, whether the subject was horses, local foliage, architecture or folklore.

She took in the pastoral beauty and reflected on her life in New York. Had she ever enjoyed one day at the office as much as Jake seemed to love his job today?

Be practical.

Right.
She had to look at the big picture. The business had operated in the red since it began.
Period.
Jake and her father had three years to make the ranch a success, but they hadn’t. Something told her Jake wouldn’t be able to buy her out. If he’d had the means, he’d already have made an offer. No way could she keep the place running, throw more money into a sinking ship. This ought to be a simple financial decision, yet her shoulders sank from the weight of it.

After they returned to the stables, she waited as each passenger personally thanked Jake.

Finally, the last stragglers left and Paige drew a calming breath. “We need to talk.” She wrung her hands, watched him free the horses from the harnesses.

He nodded but refused to spare her a glance. “Give me a few minutes to finish here. I’ll meet you up at the house in half an hour.”

She strode across the pasture, trying to come up with reasons to keep the Circle O going, but logic kept prevailing. Jake would be heartbroken. But he had to know she had few options. She’d learned he was no simple cowboy, but an intelligent man. No doubt he’d find a way to start up a similar operation or move on to something else.

Yet half an hour later as she paced her father’s study, waiting for Jake, her mouth felt stuffed with cotton. The deafening silence in the big house hung heavy in the air. Would he even want to touch her after this conversation? The notion of never kissing him again, never making love with him again, ripped through her. A painful emptiness settled in the pit of her stomach.

Ridiculous.

Wasn’t as if they’d planned to continue their relationship past this visit.
She’d have to deal with the loss now or in a few days. Either way, the prospect of walking away left a great big hole inside her.

The creak of the front door had her trembling like a kid waiting outside the principal’s office. She took a seat behind her father’s desk, but immediately realized she didn’t want that massive oak barrier between them. She quickly switched to one of the chairs against the side wall and laced her fingers together to keep her hands from trembling.

Jake’s heavy steps resonated through the house. He held his chin high and his hat in his hand. Deep lines etched his forehead. “Let’s get this over with.” Sitting in the chair beside hers, he turned toward her and tossed his hat onto the desk.

She cleared the thick clog in her throat. “Well, as you know, I met with the lawyer.” She stood and took several steps toward the desk, retrieved the file folder she’d left in the top drawer. Tense as a spring, she returned to her seat.

“I’m sure you know the Circle O has steadily lost money.” She couldn’t help hoping he’d dispute the
findings,
show her the accounts had been wrong. And that he hadn’t kept that information from her on purpose. But she knew better. Working in bookkeeping had taught her that numbers didn’t lie. And being married to an asshole had convinced her men couldn’t be trusted. But she’d thought Jake was different. She wanted to trust him, wanted to think he’d never meant to deceive her.

He nodded and the tiny muscles around his jaw ticked.

She opened the folder, took out the financial report. “Would you like to take a look?”

Deep frown lines formed on either side of his mouth. “I’ve seen it.”

She wished he’d say more, that he’d help her somehow. But how could she expect him to make this easier for her? His whole life would be affected by her decision. She set the papers on the desk and swallowed hard. “Unless you want to buy my share of the company, I don’t see any other option than to sell.”

Jake abruptly stood, his hands fisted at his sides. “Do what you have to do.”

She diverted her gaze, held back her tears. Guilt and regret stabbed at her head.

Heavy footsteps receded. The air cooled as Jake stormed from the room.

It’s business. I can’t cloud my decision with emotion.