Читать книгу Navy Seal Protector - Bonnie Vanak - Страница 12

Chapter 3

The funeral had been a quiet, dignified affair. No one shed a tear, except her.

But as she’d stood by the graveside, watching the others throw flowers on the casket, she saw Nick rub his eyes. Maybe he and Silas had been on bad terms, but the man was his father.

Shelby had sidled over to Nick, who was standing alone and looking lost, and clasped his hand. He’d looked startled, and then a little grateful.

Now, as they sat in Silas’s downstairs study in the farmhouse, Nick looked neither. Guarded, perhaps. No...wary. And quite uncomfortable, as was she. The last thing she wanted to do, after the emotion of the funeral and the strain of helping to host the reception at the house afterward, was to listen to the reading of the will. She only wanted to collect Timmy from the downstairs rec room, where he was playing with Mason and Miles, then go to her apartment. Maybe take Timmy riding on his pony later.

Lord knew they needed to return to some form of normalcy.

Normal certainly had not been last night, when she’d gotten Timmy from this house. Nick had been in the hallway, leaning against the staircase, his long, muscled body looking hot as sin as he’d hooked his fingers through the loops of his belt hoops. He looked ready for sex.

It had taken all her willpower to murmur a polite greeting and tear her gaze away from him instead of ogling him like a schoolgirl. Fortunately, Felicity had been in a hurry and practically threw Timmy into Shelby’s arms. She’d made a quick introduction of Timmy, and then fled with her nephew as if a blond devil was on her heels.

Today’s somber occasion reminded her that Nick was only here temporarily. Shelby was certain he’d leave right after this. Perhaps even faster than the last time he’d gone away, leaving only the angry rubber of his tread marks on the front drive.

Silas’s lawyer, Kurt Mohler, had gathered them together in this room. Shelby sat straight in the leather chair, trying to keep her nerves from jumping like water on a hot skillet. She doubted Silas had left her anything in his will, but her main concern was keeping her little apartment above the garage, at least until Heather and Pete returned from Iraq.

On the leather sofa, Dan and Felicity and Dan’s younger brother, Jake, looked attentive.

She and Nick perched on the wing chairs near the sofa, while Kurt, who seemed restless, paced before the fireplace. Finally the lawyer turned.

“Silas made his last wishes very plain and clear. Daniel, I want you to know that as the family lawyer, if you wish to contest his will, you have the right to do so. However, it will be a lengthy court battle, which is something I’m sure you can’t afford.”

Her stomach clenched in tight knots. This wasn’t a good start.

Dan frowned. “Why would we want to do that? Uncle Silas was always good to us.”

Kurt removed a gold pen from his suit pocket and began fiddling with it. “As you know, the ranch is deeply in debt.”

She watched Nick frown, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized the attorney. Judging from his reaction, Nick had no idea how bad things were around here. Having done the books for the ranch, she thought she knew. But Silas also liked to handle the family’s personal bills himself and there was the matter of the ranch mortgage.

He’d never let her know the exact amount, only muttered that he’d take care of it.

“How much in debt?” Nick demanded.

Dan stiffened. “That’s not for public knowledge.”

Without his gaze leaving the attorney’s face, Nick snapped, “I’m not the public.”

“All parties in this room need to know what liabilities Silas faced, as well as the assets he owned,” Kurt assured him. “It’s why I asked all of you here.”

The attorney looked at Nick. “Silas took out an equity loan on the house to pay for repairs, using the ranch as collateral. His estate owes the bank two hundred and fifty thousand dollars on the mortgage. I’m afraid he fell behind in payments.”

Dread curled through her. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars! She’d known it was bad, but not that bad. Silas had been nonchalant when he’d mentioned he owed money. No wonder he always looked so pinched and worried.

“What about the assets?” Felicity asked.

The woman had a poker face. If she had shed a single tear, Shelby hadn’t seen it. Felicity hadn’t always been this cold and brittle. Not until all the mysterious incidents started around the ranch, and Silas had mentioned that money was tight.

Secretly Shelby wondered about the odd coincidence of the sabotage happening concurrently with Silas’s announcement. Dan managed the ranch. He knew Silas owed money, and maybe he’d mentioned it to his wife. Felicity had high standards. She’d insisted on the elaborate renovations to the house. Was she also behind the vandalism as well, acts designed to make Silas sell the ranch?

“The assets are the ranch and the house and all the outbuildings, a life insurance policy, a policy to pay for the funeral and all associated costs only, and a very small investment account.” Kurt stooped and looked at them grimly. “There is a very good offer on the table for the ranch, and the house, from Chuck Beaufort. More than enough to pay off the loan, with a nice sum to purchase a new house in a good part of town.”

Dan looked uncertain. Felicity reached over and squeezed her husband’s hand. “What does Mr. Beaufort plan to do with the ranch? He’s a developer, not a farmer.”

Kurt’s gaze was impassive. “He has plans for a theme park, which will bring in plenty of tourists and new business to town. The view of the mountains is splendid from the pasture.”

Clenching her teeth, Shelby fisted her hands in her lap. Chuck Beaufort would take the serene pastures and the wild, overgrown forest, with its tangle of brush, and bulldoze everything. The Belle Creek had been in the family for generations. Maybe she didn’t have any kind of family connection to the place, but it had been the only real home she’d ever had.

How could the lawyer propose they sell? Had he ever ridden over the lush pastures at dawn in spring, fresh dew beading the grass, the leaden sky bursting into gold as the sun peaked over the mountaintops of the Smokies?

Had he ever hung on a fence railing, listening to the wind sweep over the hills, watching the children play in the yard as the horses peacefully cropped the grass? The air was so pure and fresh here, it hurt her heart to think of the ranch turning into a concrete playground for wealthy people.

Her hands clenched tighter. Barlow was a sleepy community, a typical small town, except for when the country-music convention came to town. It offered nothing to her. She planned to leave for the bright lights of Nashville when Heather and Steve returned from Iraq. Heather promised they’d all get a place in the city big enough for Shelby while she pursued her dream of traveling to Paris to learn art.

But she’d always imagined the Belle Creek would be here if she ever wanted to visit. She couldn’t imagine Barlow without the sprawling ranch.

She also couldn’t imagine it without Silas. He was the heart of this place. Fresh grief made it hard to swallow past the thick lump in her throat.

A deep frown touched Nick’s face. “The ranch always made money in the past. What happened that the old man got into such debt?”

The question was directed at Dan, who avoided looking at Nick. When Nick swept his gaze around the room, the lawyer also didn’t meet his eyes.

“This is a good working ranch with a reputation for producing excellent studs and show horses.” Nick leaned forward, his gaze hard. “The Belle Creek always had at least two dozen horses boarded here to provide a steady monthly income and we won hard cash in equestrian jumping competitions. Silas was a hardheaded businessman who pinched pennies. There’s no reason for it to be operating that much in the red.”

Silence draped the room. Jake grinned, but it looked forced. “We have only three boarders left, Nick. Things are not always as they seem, cuz.”

His brother ignored the statement and gestured to the room. “Mr. Mohler, I’m not selling the Belle Creek. Uncle Silas told me five years ago when he named me as his trustee that I should never sell the ranch, no matter what. It had to stay in the family.”

Relief swept through Shelby. She found it oddly appealing that Dan was a champion of the old man, when they’d clashed over managing the ranch in the past.

Nick rubbed a hand over his chin. He looked uncomfortable. Shelby felt a dash of pity for him. Even though he had abandoned his family, it had to hurt, knowing his father had overlooked him in favor of a cousin.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “I have here a letter from Silas to you, Nick.”

As he handed over the envelope, Nick looked at the letter as if it was a snake.

“I suggest you read it in private, when we are done here. I’ll want to meet with you soon in my office downtown, Nick.”

Felicity frowned. “What does Nick have to do with any of this? We know Dan is the trustee. Silas told us he was leaving everything to Dan, with provisions for Jake.”

Kurt looked uncomfortable. “Silas came to me six months ago to update his trust and his will. There is a small provision for Dan and Jake, amounting to a total of twenty thousand dollars to be divided evenly. That provision comes from the life insurance policy, so that is solid cash. Both of you will also receive a few acres of land each.”

Shelby’s stomach did a flip-flop. She had a bad feeling about this.

“Then who gets the house and the ranch?” Jake demanded.

Kurt looked right at Nick, the man who couldn’t care less about any of this, who hadn’t been home in ten years. “The will states that Silas left almost everything to Nick. The house, the ranch, the horses, all the assets. It is his to do with as he pleases. Including the investment account, which I’m afraid only amounts to ten thousand dollars.”

“What?” Felicity shrieked.

Dan looked pale and Jake laughed. Nick said nothing, but went very still, his hands curling around the letter, as if he wanted to crush it.

Or crush Silas.

“Well, at least the old man’s funeral is paid for,” Jake joked.

“That isn’t funny,” Felicity snapped.

She didn’t dare breathe. She wasn’t mentioned at all in this family drama. For a moment she wondered why the lawyer wanted her here.

Didn’t Silas remember her at all?

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Kurt turned to Shelby. “Miss Stillwater, there is also a provision in the will for you.”

She waited, nails digging into her palms.

“Silas arranged to give you the apartment over the garage. It’s yours to occupy as long as the ranch remains in the family. You can’t sell it, of course, but you’re free to live there and he made it clear no rent will be charged as long as you occupy it.”

A little of her tension fled. She managed a tight nod. “Thank you.”

The lawyer nodded. “Silas always thought highly of you. He loved you like you were his daughter.”

She warmed a little to the man. And then he added, “But you are not family, only an employee of the Belle Creek. Silas made it clear that only family is to have what funds he left. I don’t blame him, as I know your family’s history with the ranch is circumspect, specifically your father and how he left here owing money.”

Talk about a dose of ice water. Holding on to her pride, she sat straight and managed a tight smile. Nick, however, wasn’t smiling.

“That’s not necessary, Mohler,” he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. “Shelby is not her father. Show her some respect.”

She didn’t need Nick defending her. Her smile grew tighter. “Nick, he’s right. I’m not family.”

Shelby locked gazes with the lawyer. “I’m also not my father. Or my mother. I’ve been employed by the Belle Creek for ten years and in those ten years, I’ve paid back every cent my daddy owed. I’d appreciate it if you would not confuse me with my parents.”

As the lawyer started to stammer, she gave him a singularly sweet smile. “Are we clear on that, Mr. Mohler?”

He nodded and fumbled with his papers. Nick gave her a winsome grin. She ignored it, far too upset inside. Well-mannered Southern girls did not speak back, especially not to wealthy attorneys. But she was so damn tired of people in Barlow bringing up her parents, as if they waited to see if she’d pass out cold in her home from drinking too much.

Not that she really had a home. Her home depended upon the whims of what the family did with the ranch.

Shelby’s troubled gaze flicked back to Nick. Not family. Silas’s only son, Nick. He was the sole owner of the ranch now.

Nick stared back at her, the scar on his cheek turning white. “The will states Shelby can live here as long as I keep the ranch. What if I decide to sell?”

“Then she, along with everyone else, will have to leave.” Kurt didn’t look at her.

Felicity was rocking back and forth now, her jaw clenched so tight it could pound nails. The woman looked ready to rake her claws over Nick. Or scream. Or do both. But unlike Shelby, Felicity was a well-mannered Southern lady and she would not say a word.

Not until she was alone in her bedroom with Dan. Shelby didn’t envy Dan for that.

Jake leaned forward, his hands on his knees. “How much did Uncle Silas owe? He never told any of us about this.” His glance went to Shelby. “Not even Shelby here, who kept the books. Uncle Silas was very private about that.”

“He was very far behind in payments, and the loan had a balloon due four months ago. The bank already started foreclosure. The total amount needed to prevent this is fifty-nine thousand, seven hundred and fifty. The bank needs this by the end of the month.”

They had one month to come up with nearly sixty thousand dollars. She glanced at Nick. No, he had that time to come up with that cash.

“The ranch is worth much more than the mortgage, Nick.” Kurt handed him a white business card. “Come and see me first thing Monday morning and we’ll go over everything, including Chuck’s offer to buy Belle Creek. He’s offering nearly a million in cash. I can help set up a meeting. Chuck is a business associate.”

Shelby couldn’t think, could barely register what had just happened as Nick stood and shook the man’s hand. The lawyer exited, and Felicity almost ran out of the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she left the Oriental carpet, her hapless husband trailing her. Jake looked stunned for a minute and then shrugged. He slapped Nick’s shoulder.

“Welcome home, cousin. What a sly trickster that Silas is. Let me know if you’re going to sell and I’ll move my stuff in permanently with Lynn, not just my toothbrush. Maybe see about getting on with a horse farm in Kentucky.” Jake grinned and left.

She was alone with Nick. He stood and went to Silas’s big mahogany desk. How many times had she seen the old man sit there, dusty boots sprawled across the faded Oriental rug, frown lines denting his forehead, much as they were denting Nick’s now? Silas had always brightened when she’d entered these hallowed quarters, inviting her to sit and talk.

He’d made her feel comfortable and at home, not like the hired hand she had been. Silas would insist on brewing them a little tea, and they’d sit, as fancy as if they were sipping tea in the queen’s parlor. She’d tell him all about how Readalot performed his paces that day with Jake, and then how the horse kept nosing in her shirt pocket for the apple he knew she’d hidden as she curried him. Silas had listened to her, really listened, as his tired blue eyes met hers over his teacup.

The thought that he wouldn’t be around anymore to listen to her talk about her day, ask in his deep, gravelly voice how she was doing, caused an unbearable clench of grief.

Nick turned from the desk, with its neat piles of papers and files. His gaze was bleak. He lifted a hand to her and she saw he had the letter.

“Shel...”

Frozen in shock, she could only stare as a kaleidoscope of disastrous possibilities whirled through her mind. Nick was now in charge. Nick, who had kissed her and left, making her feel as abandoned as a shelter dog. Nick, who fought hard with Silas and didn’t care about the ranch’s legacy, or his heritage.

“I didn’t want this,” he said, and the letter shook a little in his hand, as if a breeze caught it. “I need time to sort things out.”

Time? “You have less than a month, by the look of things.” She tried to make her voice light, but an undercurrent of bitterness laced her tone. “The bank looks to foreclose if they don’t get sixty thousand dollars by then.”

His eyes closed, and his long, dark lashes nearly swept over his elegant cheekbones. Such a handsome man, even with that sinister scar. It was a shame a man had such great lashes. No mascara for him.

She realized she felt slightly hysterical.

He opened his eyes, and a determined glint shone there. “You’ll always have a home here, Shel. You and your nephew.”

“Sure.” Now there was no disguising the anger in her voice. “As long as the ranch remains in the family. Because as the lawyer said, I’m not family.”

No longer could she remain here, trying to be civilized. Emotion boiled in her stomach and she walked out of the room, not bothering to close the door. Only when she reached the privacy of her apartment over the garage did the tears come. She let them flow. Grief was better than the haunting thoughts about the future stabbing her mind.

Would Nick do as the lawyer suggested and sell the ranch? She couldn’t even entertain that possibility.

Because if Nick decided to sell the ranch, it would be the worst for her. She and Timmy would be homeless, with no money, and nowhere else to go.