Page 38 of The Billion Heirs Boxed Set
Mom made meatloaf, one of my dad’s favorites. He uses his fork to break off a piece.
“I’m not quitting, Dad.” I reach for my iced tea and take a deep sip.
I only saw Lexie briefly after lunch since she went out with one of the ranch hands to see to a sick calf. I stayed in the stables and dealt with the horses, my mind well filled with thoughts about Austin and how I liked his touch. How I wanted more of it. Except he disappeared. Did I do something to mess it all up? In my rush, I didn’t say goodbye.
Dad breaks me from my thoughts. “It’s not about that.”
Inwardly, I sigh with relief. “Oh. All right. What is it?”
“Rick, do we have to do this now?” Mom stirs her peas around on her plate. She’s worried about another argument.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but yes,” Dad tells her. “She needs to know. Especially if she thinks she’s going to work at that ranch.”
I wrinkle my forehead and don’t miss the way he spits out that ranch. “Know what?”
“Did you ever wonder why I decided to run for mayor of Bayfield?”
I offer a shrug. “I figured you wanted to be more involved in the town.” I bite on my lip. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. I’ve been in my own head since I got home.”
“Carly, honey, I didn’t bring this up to make you feel guilty,” Dad says. “You needed to focus on your healing. But now that you’re working for the Bridgers, there are things you should know.”
“I know all I need.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t. For example, did you know that the Bridger family owns our ranch?’
I raise my eyebrows, stare at him as if he said the property is owned by space aliens. “What?”
He nods. “It’s true. We—your mother and I—ran into some financial difficulties while you were gone, as you know.”
A sick feeling settles in my stomach and I set down my fork. “I know you had to sell the animals, and I’m so sorry for that.”
His face softens. “Sweetheart, no. This isn’t for you to feel guilty. I would have sold the shirt off my back to find you.”
I purse my lips. “It sounds like you nearly did.”
“If it would have done any good, I would have. When your mother and I made the decision to sell the land, we engaged a real estate broker in Helena to list it. It turned out she was on Jonathan Bridger’s payroll.”
I’m confused. “I don’t understand.”
“We didn’t know it at the time, but she was working with Bridger to purchase as much land adjacent to his ranch as possible. She told us the offer was a good one, so we believed her, but we found out later that Bridger paid us only a little over half of what our property is worth.”
I drop my mouth open. “Wait. You don’t own this place? Why are we still living here?”
“I’m renting. One of the few perks of being mayor is that the city pays for my housing. Mom and I didn’t want to leave our home, so the city attorney made a deal with Bridger that we could stay in the house. But we don’t own it, and we can’t use any of our property for ranching.”
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head. “How could any of this happen? Your broker acted in bad faith. Don’t you have some kind of remedy?”
“Sure. The law is on our side, but how would we pay an attorney to fight this? Bridger has unlimited funds. He’d have sent us to the poorhouse.”
I shake my head. “Daddy, that was Jonathan Bridger. Not his sons.”
Dad clenches his jaw, and his earlier softened features are now hardened. “I’ve said it before. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, little one.”
I meet my father’s tired gaze. “So you ran for mayor for a paycheck?”
He sniffs. “Yes and no. We’re not broke, but we were robbed. Now we’re renters on our own land.”
I’m sure there’s more he’s not telling me, as if he’s forcefully holding the words back. My mom’s quiet beside him. She doesn’t offer up any more information.
