Page 43 of Savage Secrets

If Mr. Brooks was surprised by the question, he didn’t reveal it in his expression. He was all business when he responded.

“You can set up a trust.”

He stared at the man. “I’m a ranch manager. Explain it to me like I’m five years old.”

“A trust is a relationship where one entity holds the title to the property for the benefit of another to use.”

He shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure how that would help me, considering I don’t want to use my name.”

“You could set up a small corporation to use the name rather than your own. Then the trust’s name is on the property. Your name would be there as well, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world to research without a lawyer’s assistance.”

A spark of excitement took hold of Zach. That wasexactlywhat he needed to know.

“Is it difficult to do that? Does it cost a lot?”

“It’s a little paperwork to file. The fees are typically not overwhelming to a person’s wallet, and we can discuss that.”

“That’s what I was looking for, Mr. Brooks. Thank you. I appreciate your time.”

“If you decide to move in this direction, give me a call. I can set that up for you.”

They shook hands and he watched the attorney get into his sedan and drive away. Now if he could persuade Sean Gracey to take another chance on him, with the assurance that he wouldn’t be putting a target on his back, he could make a move.

He didn’t know exactly what he planned to do with the land yet. While he’d always dreamed of a small spread of his own, he knew small operations were more difficult to scratch out a living from. He didn’t need much, though. He could live on very little and cheaply.

Opal would have a more difficult time managing the Springvale. She had a daughter to raise, and as she grew, Rainie’s needs and wants would eventually become more expensive than plastic teacups and her favorite snacks.

But that was Opal… Zach wasn’t tied to her or the Springvale. He only worked here. So what didhewant from being a property owner?

He’d often laid awake in the bunkhouse on the Gracey, staring at the ceiling. Just before the day’s exhaustion took over and he fell asleep, he would sometimes daydream about building a cabin. A place to call his own with a window to gaze out of and watch his cattle growing fat in the field.

Swinging toward the house, he let his gaze move over the wide front porch, not seeing the dips in the old wood where it needed new boards but seeing the beauty of having a porch at all.

When he walked into the Graceys’ house and demanded a conference with Mr. Gracey about the land, the moment felt good. It felt like he was allowing his true self to emerge at long last. Instead of using his fists to get what he wanted, he used other skills to communicate.

He’d done the same by catching Mr. Brooks before he left and asking questions.

Damn, his therapist was going to want to hear this.

He fixed his gaze on the house, thinking of the woman inside who tied him up in knots. The urge to tell her that he’d just come to a new revelation about himself made him take a step.

Stopping in his tracks, he thought better of dumping all this on her. The talk with Brooks had agitated her. She had enough on her mind to worry about.

Besides, she knew nothing about his interest in buying land.

Land that adjoined hers.

They would be neighbors.

They were already lovers.

For how long?

I will carry her to bed and show her over and over and over again just how much a man like me fits into her life.

Fuck. He was here to help her. If she accepted him into her bed occasionally, took pleasure and comfort in his arms, it was more than he could hope for.

He went into the barn. The scent of straw and animals filtered through his head, providing calm. He had a lot to think about.

---