Page 76 of Westin

“I’m from Sovereign Mountain,” I say. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He freezes. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

He goes from being a friendly stranger to eyeing me with distrust. “Sovereign Mountain, huh? Did your boss send you down here?”

I shake my head, taking a step in. We’re about the same height.

“The access road you had planned to put through Carter Farms—are you putting a stop to it?” I ask.

The open, easy aura dries up fast. Of course it does; he’s part of the Garrison family. I square up to him, our eyes meeting. His jaw ripples as he grits his teeth.

“That’s not anything I’m talking about with you,” he says.

“I’m not here for trouble,” I say, keeping my voice low.

He shrugs. “You know who I am. Hell will freeze over before I do business with Sovereign Mountain, but you give your regards to your boss. I don’t have anything against him personally.”

When he says that, his face is a little less grim. I see my opening, and I take it.

“Look, I don’t have anything against you,” I say. “The Sovereign-Garrison feud doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Doesn’t have much to do with me either,” he says. “But they’re family.”

“I get it,” I say. “My business is separate. I just want to know what you intend to do with Carter Farms in regard to the access road.”

He shifts his weight, crossing his arms. He doesn’t trust me, but I wouldn’t either.

“I can’t tell you anything about Carter Farms,” he says. “That’s private business.”

“I just want to know if stopping the road is a done deal,” I say.

His eyes narrow. “How do you know so much?”

“I know David Carter.”

“Then you should ask him.”

I bite back my retort. It’s clear I won’t get anywhere with Corbin today. He has already got a built-in distrust of me, so I take a step back.

“I’d be happy to talk again, Mr. Buchanan,” I say.

His forehead creases with annoyance. “I don’t take bribes.”

We both know that’s not true. He’s not telling me he doesn’t take bribes, he’s saying he won’t take them from Sovereign Mountain.

“I wouldn’t dream of thinking you would,” I say. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Buchanan. I look forward to speaking to you again.”

There’s a gentle threat in those last words. He’ll see me again, like or not. He gives me a quick nod. His brow is knitted like he’s confused, but he’s soon swept away into the other room by his assistant. I head outside and move down the street towards my truck.

Come hell or high water, I’m getting Diane that farm.

If Corbin doesn’t take bribes, maybe he needs to go the way of Clint Garrison. A hand extended in a white flag. An unexpected meeting. An unexplained accident.

A gunslinger who doesn’t miss.

A problem solved.

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