Page 15 of Chloe's Christmas Cowboy: A Festive Second Chance Romance

Tyler slowly climbed into his seat. “So, you’re not planning to stick around?”

She shook her head, not looking at him. “No. I’ve slept on it and decided there’s no point. Without my family there’s nothing here for me. I think Uncle John would have expected me to sell. That’ll be why he split the ranch from the livestock. To give us both a chance of making some money and moving on.”

He smacked his lips together before starting the engine. Warm air immediately blasted her and she shivered at the contrast from the bitterness outside.

“You don’t think maybe he was trying to get us to figure it out together?” he asked slowly.

She frowned. “He would have known I couldn’t manage the ranch as well as keep my job. Besides, if he’d expected me to keep the place going he wouldn’t have split up the assets.” She shrugged. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

“What I mean is, you don’t think he expected us to work it out together? For you to keep me on to run the place?” He drove competently down the snowy track.

She scoffed, although it had crossed her mind more than once. “I wouldn’t think so. If that was what he’d wanted, why wouldn’t he have written that into his will? Or on his note to me?” Chancing a glance in his direction, she noticed how capable he appeared – and so damn gorgeous. She quickly looked away.

“So, that’s not what was written in his secret message?”

She thought about what he had put. He was sorry. For what? Presumably for not leaving her the whole ranch so she could sell it as a going concern and make some proper money from it. Although, Bill Simmons didn’t seem to think it was worth much, anyway. It would certainly be worth a lot less without all the livestock. Uncle John must have had a very good reason to leave all that – and the house – to Tyler.

“No,” she said, wondering, not for the first time, what had been written in his message.

“So, I take it you want to get to the real estate agent, too? Ask them to put the place on the market for you?” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“I’d like to get a valuation,” she replied, trying to sound business-like while her gut roiled at the prospect.

He pulled up in the parking lot outside the bank and turned to face her for the first time since getting in the truck. “Any idea which agent you want to list it with?” He narrowed his eyes, as though suspecting what her answer would be – and knowing he wasn’t going to like it.

She shrugged. “I might not list it. I just need a valuer to assess its worth.” She tried to sound casual, but could tell by the way his body tensed and his eyebrows furrowed that it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“So, are you saying you’ve got a buyer already lined up?”

She could tell by his demeanor that he already knew the answer to that one.

“Maybe,” she said quickly, as she opened the door and went to climb out of the truck.

He put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Anyone I know?”

She huffed, sitting back in her seat. “Bill Simmons said he might know someone who’s interested. I just want to make sure I get the best price, that’s all. I won’t be taken in by someone who just wants to beat me down and get a better deal just because I’m a woman who doesn’t know the first thing about selling a ranch.” She jutted out her chin, hoping that he’d see the sense in what she was saying. He didn’t.

“I might have known. So that’s what he was threatening me with last night. He’s got this all worked out, you know?”

She rolled her eyes as he seethed next to her. “Look, I know you don’t like Bill much but...”

“I don’t trust him, Chloé, and neither should you.”

That was enough of that. She pushed his arm off her and climbed out the truck, her blood boiling.

“Listen to me,” he said, rounding on her as soon as she strode toward the entrance to the bank. “He’s been sniffing around ever since you got back. When did he ever care about you before this? You’ve got to admit there’s something sneaky about that guy.”

“Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean I can’t,” she snapped, stopping in her tracks.

“I don’t mean that,” he said, earnestly. “Look, we’re here now. Why don’t we just go and find out what your options are? See what the bank manager says. Then you can get your valuation and make an informed decision about what to do. It’s the logical way forward.”

Chloé huffed. If it wasn’t annoying enough that he was advising her on financial decisions, it was a damn site worse knowing that he was right.

CHAPTER SEVEN

An hour and a half later they both emerged from the bank, deep in thought. Snow was falling again, dampening the sounds around them.

“Well, that was interesting,” Tyler said slowly. “I think I might be able to manage those payments with that loan Mr. Hendrickson was talking about.

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