Page 71 of Ashes of the Past
It is kind of a relief that he knows.
I force out a laugh, but it sounds brittle even to my own ears. “That’s none of your business.”
His jaw tightens. “Actually, it is. As the ranch manager, I’m responsible for the financial part, too.”
“No, you’re not. I said that I would handle it, but of course, you had to brute force your way intoeverything.”
“Brute force?” he asks with a low, dry chuckle. “I’m assuming your dad doesn’t know since I wasn’t briefed about it.”
I bristle, my grip on the doorknob tightening. “I said it’s none of your business, Jack.”
He stands up and crosses the room until he’s directly in front of me. He doesn’t back down. Of course, he doesn’t. Irritation fills me, and I can feel my face turning red.
Why can’t this man leave well enough alone?
“Brynn,” he says in an exasperated voice.
I inhale sharply through my nose.
How dare he come in here like he owns the place? No one should be handling our financials except family. I don’t know why my dad ever let it be otherwise.
This is none of his business.
“Let it go, Jack. I handled it.”
“You have to talk to me, Brynn. You can’t keep things like this from me. You also cannot keep things bottled up to protect everyone else. It’s not on you to protect or save anyone else. You’re going to drown trying to do that.”
Has he been talking to Nick? Why would he say the part about saving, too?
I stare back at him in disbelief. It doesn’t matter if he was talking to Nick, though. He’s a cocky jerk, and he knows nothing about me.
How dare he even try to pretend like he does?
He’s staring at me; those deep, whiskey-colored eyes are boring into me, and they’re somehow zapping all the fight out of me. I bite the inside of my cheek and inhale. I look away, cross my arms in front of my chest, and tap my foot nervously.
Ugh, why does he have this power to get me to break?
I step back into the office and shut the door behind me. If we’re going to have this conversation, we’re not doing it where anyone can overhear.
He watches me carefully, his expression unreadable, as I sit down in a nearby chair. He goes back to the desk.
“What do you want to know?”
His voice is softer now. “I understand why she took out the second mortgage; she put it in the memo. But why doesn’t your dad know?”
I press my lips together, looking away. My throat tightens, and for a moment, I don’t think I can say it. But then the words just spill out.
“Because my mother asked me not to tell him.”
His brows draw together. “What?”
I swallow hard. “When she found out she was sick and how quickly it progressed, she went to the bank and took out the mortgage.”
“Your dad would have had to sign off on it; the ranch is in both of their names.”
“He did sign off on it. My mom told him that it was the paperwork for something else.”
“What?” he gasps.
