Page 17 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“I need to go, Father. I’ll see you Saturday.” Before he could start talking again, I hung up on him.

Patrick pointed at something outside and chuckled.

A large wood archway stood at the end of a road that went off to the right. On it, a rusted metal sign stated that this was the “Shaw-king Ranch.”

The pun didn’t surprise me. Not after getting to know Robert, the owner of the property I was here to buy.

“You still haven’t told anyone about this, have you?” Patrick asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

Patrick knew this was intensely personal to me. I’d always wanted to spend more time with our horses, especially because I’d been buying and breeding them since I’d turned thirteen. Getting my own ranch, away from Harris Inc., was a lifelong dream come true.

I took in every detail of the land around me. I’d memorized the boundaries and had looked at every satellite shot and Google photo of it I could find. Robert had sent me a few pictures from his phone, but they didn’t do it justice.

The dirt road wound along the edge of a forest of oak trees on one side and a set of fields on the other. Three barns lay scattered in the midst of several pastures, and there was a house at each end of the ranch.

Robert had said something about the place having two residences, but I hadn’t paid attention. I was planning to demolish most of what was here already, unless I felt the existing structures had good enough bones to keep.

UnlessIfelt…

Normally, I’d hand the renovations off to a team of people, but this wasn’t a team effort. This was mine and mine alone. I’d hire people to help, but they’d be from here, not New York. Not from Harris Inc. It would look and feel like I wanted it to, not be branded as my family’s company.

A thrill ran through me, and I almost shivered at the realization that this was finally going to happen. My money. My investment. My ranch.

Coming from a wealthy family gave you a certain amount of freedom, but it also strapped you down to a lot of things that you didn’t have a choice in. This ranch would provide me with a break from that.

My phone chimed with a reminder of my meeting with Robert. I was running right on schedule. If everything went according to plan, in less than thirty minutes he’d sign the place over to me, and the process could begin. Robert had mentioned one of his children still lived on the ranch, and that they weren’t prepared to move right away, so our agreement had been to give them ninety days to vacate the premises.

The first thing I vowed to do when I took over was pave the minefield of a dirt road we were driving on. Patrick seemed to be having a good time hitting every single hole. Frank looked up and glared at him.

“You could slow down,” I said.

“I could.” Patrick grinned as he turned us toward the bigger of the two homes.

The farmhouse hadn’t been updated in decades, but even with peeling paint and a slightly drooping porch roof, the place felt inviting.

Patrick slowed the vehicle and gently pulled into the long driveway. Robert and a redheaded woman who had to be his wife stepped out onto the porch. Followed by a younger woman and two children.

“Was this supposed to be a family affair?” Patrick asked.

“Not that I know of.” Robert had insisted we do it in person, and I’d volunteered to come here to sign the papers, so I could see the place and because Robert didn’t seem like a guy who would enjoy a trip to New York City. I mentally prepared for a family gathering and not a business meeting. This wasn’t the time to remind everyone that I held the financial power in the room. Instead, I needed to be friendly. Kind. Fun.

Well, as fun as I ever got.

Channel Victoria.

Frank stood and stretched before he looked at the door and whined.

“You just went.” I hooked a leash to his harness.

Frank gave me the puppy dog eyes.

“I guess I’ll ask if you can use their lawn, but we’re cleaning it up.”

Patrick got out and came around to release me. I’d tried to break him of the habit, but his security training always kicked in, and I’d decided to give up on that battle.

A stiff breeze that smelled like rain hit me as the door opened. The clouds had become increasingly dark, and I wondered if it was tornado season. It took a good deal of effort to not scan the sky.

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