Page 37 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

“No, itwasmine. I signed the sale agreement six months ago and ownership was transferred six weeks ago.”

Gina’s mouth fell open, and when Sarabeth glanced over at Ross, he looked equally astounded. Charlotte just giggled.

“I still can’t believe you’re Sarabeth ofSarabeths!”

She winced at Gina’s rather loud statement. “Shhh, honey! I’m telling you this in confidence. It’s not something I want to become public knowledge, not just yet.”

“Why not?” Ross demanded. “It’s amazing, Mom,you’reamazing.”

Aw, how sweet was he? “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Does anyone else know?” Gina asked, surprise and shock still dancing in her eyes.

She felt her cheeks heat. “Uh, Brett does.”

Sarabeth couldn’t miss the look Gina and Charlotte shared, nor their raised eyebrows. She didn’t want to answer the questions in their eyes—why did you tell him your secret and not us? When did you tell him? Do you trust him with this knowledge?—so she quickly changed the subject.

Hopefully, her next announcement would distract them. “So, I’ve set up trust funds for both of you, Gina and Ross.” She looked at Ross and smiled at his shocked expression. “When the time comes, I’ll pay for Ben’s, and his siblings’, college expenses.” She looked at Gina. “I’ll do the same for your kids when you have them, honey.”

Ross stared at her before lifting her hand and dropping a kiss on her knuckles. “That’s very generous of you, Mom,” he said gruffly. “Thank you.”

Gina half stood to kiss her cheek. “That’s such a lovely gesture, Mom, and I so appreciate it. But are you sure you have enough for yourself, to live and so on?”

Sarabeth thought of the many, many millions still in her bank account and nodded. “I have more than enough.”

“Thank you, Sarabeth, it’s very much appreciated.” Charlotte smiled at her and lifted her wineglass in her direction. “I’m really happy for you but, to be honest, I’m glad your wealth is a secret. I’m rather enjoying the notoriety of being the soon-to-be daughter-in-law of Royal’s most famous gold digger.”

Sarabeth laughed.

“Charlotte’s comment raises an interesting question, Mom. Why aren’t you broadcasting this from the rooftops?” Gina asked, looking intrigued. “You’ve been so maligned by the Royal gossips, and this would be a fine way to shut them up.”

Sarabeth shrugged. “I no longer need to prove a damn thing to anybody, anymore, and I sure as hell don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

But she’d told Brett about her marriage and also about the sale ofSarabeths!, long before she was ready to tell her kids. What did that mean? Did she even want to go down that rabbit hole? Not really, especially since she’d decided to step back...to ease herself out of his bed, his house and his life.

Brett, not wanting a long-term relationship himself, would probably be incredibly grateful for her dignified retreat and wouldn’t, she was convinced, demand an explanation. Reticent and contained, the rugged rancher wasn’t one to cause a scene, to make demands or try to cage a bird wanting to fly.

“But, be honest now, there’s a part of you that wants to tell Rusty, to rub it in his face,” Ross pointed out, pulling her back to the topic at hand.

Maybe. Possibly.

Absolutely.

Sarabeth searched her son’s face and eyes, looking for condemnation and she found none. He understood her need to show Rusty that she’d succeeded, on her own terms and without his input and help.

“Well, yeah,” she admitted.

Charlotte released a muted whoop! and clicked her glass against Sarabeth’s.

“Is it wrong for me to want to be there when you tell him?” Gina asked, her stunning eyes dancing with mirth. “Oh, don’t frown at me, Mom! I’m not a kid anymore who needs to be reminded that I should respect my father. He’s been an utter bastard to you and Ross and, while I believe he loves us, he’s not always a nice man. I’m old enough to know that. So...can we be there when you tell him?”

“Yeah, can we?” Ross demanded.

Sarabeth stared at her children—who were these monsters?—before erupting into peals of laughter. Oh, she should reprimand them but after hearing how Rusty had bad-mouthed her at the Texas Cattleman’s Club, she wasn’t that much of a saint. Besides, as Gina pointed out, her kids were adults and it was time Rusty learned his actions had consequences.

Brett hated paperwork; he far preferred to be outside in the sun, wind and rain than reading spreadsheets and income and expenditure statements but, like with any other business, they were a necessary evil.

He’d built a small complex behind his garage, composed of three offices, a storage room and a small boardroom. He used the biggest office, the ranch’s bookkeeper occupied the other and his ranch foreman used the third. Sitting in his light-filled office, with a view of the pond, he leaned back in his chair and idly watched Percy, his Bashkir Curly stallion and Penny, the caramel Bashkir Curly mare he’d bought last week, ignore each other as they idly munched their way across the paddock. He was well known for his excellent Arabians and pintos, with their exceptional bloodlines and wickedly expensive price tags, but the Curlies were a fun, see-where-it-went project.

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