Page 81 of Inheriting Miss Fortune

“Dunno,” I admitted. “I’d imagine not.”

Kenji studied me across the top of the mug while he took another sip. I pretended to ignore him and settled Lellie in her chair before handing her the cup of milk Kenji had already prepared.

“Your ass looks nice in them jeans.”

The exaggerated cowboy swagger didn’t come out of Kenji’s mouth but out of Foster’s. I whipped my head around and saw his face on Kenji’s laptop screen. He was crowded into the same little window that held Way and Silas. Bash and Rowe were in another, and the final one had Landry and Zane in it.

“Fucking Christ,” I said, clutching my chest.

Landry’s lazy voicetsk’d. “You should probably learn to use cleaner language now that you’re an old man.”

“What are you all doing up at this hour? Way, how’re the horses?”

While they reminded me that New York was an houraheadand ranchers woke up early, I moved to the fridge to grab food for Lellie. It was comforting hearing their voices while I put together a simple breakfast for her. Foster finally couldn’t take it and intervened.

“How’re you gonna convince that city boy to come back home with you?”

I stared at him until Lellie flung greek yogurt at me. Kenji snickered and handed me a paper towel.

“He’s not coming back with me,” I said. “He lives here. His career is here.”

Silas’s face was pinched in thought. “More rich people moving into Majestic every day. Ask me how I know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t imagine there’s enough work for him in trusts and estate law, Silas. Even you, me, and Way wouldn’t be able to give him enough work to keep busy.”

While Foster didn’t know about our billions, he knew enough to know we had enough money to need looking after. Once Silas had turned up, Fletcher Ranch had never seen another dollar in debt after years of struggle. And he also knew that I’d bought a hundred acres of prime acreage and was building a house with a sprawling footprint on it. Even his mother would know I couldn’t afford that on any ranch hand’s salary.

“Everyone needs a will,” Landry said, allowing his serious side to emerge in a rare moment of vulnerability. “You never know when shit’s going to happen.”

“Language,” everyone warned, causing him to shoot his middle fingers at the camera.

“He’d have to start his own firm. That takes mon…” My voice trailed off as I heard how ridiculous that sounded.

“Huh,” Silas said, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “Wonder where he could find an investor. Or five.”

“Six,” Rowe said with an impish grin. Even though it had been a year since he’d turned his business idea into gold, he still wasn’t used to having money to burn.

Foster waved his hand dismissively at Silas and Way. “I may not have any money to invest, but even a lowly sheriff needs a will. And there’s plenty of contract law around here if he’s willing to get familiar with ranches and agricultural stuff.”

“His dad was a rancher,” I said. “The man’s from Texas, for god’s sake. I’m sure half his clients are related to agriculture or oil.” Before anyone could pipe back in and argue that I was proving their point, I held up a hand. “That doesn’t mean he wants it. He hated growing up on a ranch.”

Kenji’s soft voice interjected. He usually kept fairly quiet when the rest of us were together. “He hated growing up on hisfather’sranch. Don’t assume that means he hates ranches in general.”

Thinking of Tully watching the sun set against the peaks of Three Daughters and showing Lellie the horses, I knew Kenji had a point. But we’d gotten off track.

“We’re not even dating,” I reminded them. “We barely know each other. And Tully’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s not going to uproot his life and move to small-town Wyoming so he can watch a guy he barely knows stumble through single parenting. That would be… foolish.”

“Beyond foolish,” Kenji agreed. “If that’s what he was doing. Personally, I think there are good reasons why Tully might want to move to Majestic, but I’m not sure he’s aware of all of them. Have you even explained that it’s an option?”

Again with theoptions?

Landry leaned closer to the camera, making sure the angle was still complimentary, although the man didn’t have a bad angle. “What Kenji’s trying to say is that Tully might as well be the father of your child, Devon.” His eyes flicked. “Tell him, Kenji.”

I turned to see Kenji, who still stood by the coffee maker. His cheeks were a little pink, possibly from the heat of the coffee, and he huffed out a frustrated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he argued. “The point I was trying to make was something altogether different. But… it’s true that there are some things you should see that might help you understand things better, Dev.”

“Wait, what?” Landry asked. “What point were you trying to make, then?”

Kenji ignored him. He met my eyes and tilted his head toward the tablet lying on the kitchen counter.

---