Page 23 of The Guy Who Stole My Ranch

“Don’t call me ma’am, and I won’t call you Will.”

I had to resist the urge to smile. “Agreed.”

A grumble of thunder sounded from the quickly approaching clouds.

I eyed the sky. “Is it tornado season right now?”

Brooke let out a harsh laugh. “It’s a little early in the year for that, darlin’.”

Darlin’? Why did that single word from this beautiful woman send a shiver down my spine?

We backed out of the driveway and started along the road that Patrick and I had come in on. I expected her to tell me about the nearby fields or the barns in the distance. Instead, she looked over at me with the same steely glint in her brown eyes that she’d had at the park and said, “Why are you here, William?” Her accent had gotten thicker, and I could feel an icy chill forming between us.

She’d been direct. I could offer her the same courtesy. “I’m buying your father’s ranch.”

She snorted, and it reminded me of an angry horse. “Why?”

We hit a hole in the road, and if not for the seatbelt, my head may have struck the ceiling of the cab.

Brooke was obviously angry. Did I want to try to get to the bottom of that or keep this conversation about business?

One glance over at her and I knew I couldn’t let her stew. At the very least, I could answer her question. “I want to create a ranch that can both breed racing horses and give them a place to retire. There is plenty of land for both of those things here.”

“You breed horses?” The chill in her voice had not thawed.

“Not currently, but I have in the past. Our top racer tore a ligament in his leg and is out for the season. I may not let him race again, and I’d love to have a place for him to spend the remainder of his days as a stud.”

“You have a ranch somewhere else?”

“My family does.”

“Why do they want ours?” Her tone bit into me, and I took a breath before I answered.

“They don’t.”

She swiveled her narrowed eyes at me. “Then why are you here, William?”

Her anger wasn’t waning, and instead of keeping my cool, I found myself getting riled up as well. I wasn’t used to people treating me like this, and I didn’t appreciate it.

I answered her but kept all warmth from my voice. “This is a private investment, not associated with Harris Inc.”

“So you’re using your daddy’s money to buy it, but you’re calling it your own?”

It’s like everything I said kicked the hornet’s nest that was Brooke. This is not how I wanted our conversation to go. I composed myself and said, “The money is my own and not associated with my family.”

Brooke snorted again and took a left onto a path that was barely identifiable. Before I could say more, Brooke shifted in the seat and started pointing. “Our land goes from that field to that line of trees. You probably looked at it on the internet. The winter barley is almost ready for harvesting.” She gestured to a large section of what looked to me like waving wheat. “That end is kind of a mess at the moment because we haven’t had time to get in there and clean it up after the winter rain.”

The topic shift threw me off, but only for a moment. If she suddenly wanted to talk business, then I could comply. “I understand the need for seasonal maintenance.”

“Good, because there’s a lot of it.” Her voice turned sickeningly sweet, and danger alarms went off in my head. “Although I’m sure you won’t be doing any of the dirty work yourself.”

Years of dealing with people who felt like they were the most important person in the room kicked in, and I managed to keep my expression neutral.

Brooke didn’t know anything about me, and yet she’d decided to prejudge me. I was used to that, especially from women, but it was getting under my skin. Normally my sister was the only one who got into my head like this. If Brooke wanted to play hardball, I could comply.

For a brief moment, Victoria’s voice came into my mind. She would tell me to be gentle and use kind questions to figure out what the problem was.

I wasn’t sure Brooke would respond to that approach, so I once again decided to be direct. “Why should that bother you?” I asked, referring to her remark that I’d never do any of the dirty work myself.

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