Читать книгу A Bull Rider To Depend On - Jeannie Watt - Страница 8

Chapter One

Skye Larkin hated thinking ill of the dead, but as she pushed through the bank doors for the fourth time in two weeks, she was very, very angry with her late husband. And beyond being angry, she was, for the first time since learning the true state of her finances, afraid.

It’d been a shock, yes, to discover that the money she thought she had socked away to see the ranch through lean times was no longer there—that her husband had drained the accounts during his road trips, despite his assurances that he’d given up gambling—but for the first six months after Mason has passed away, she’d told herself it would be all right. She’d squeak through somehow. Make the payments, start to pull ahead.

At the six-month mark she had to face the reality that she wasn’t pulling ahead. In fact, after a couple of disasters, she was falling further behind, and the money she’d counted on to see her through these rough spells was now in the coffers of some high-rise Vegas casino.

Damn Mason’s gambling.

And not to mention all of his buddies who encouraged him to go out when he shouldn’t have. If Mason had stayed in his hotel room as he wanted—as he’d promised—then he wouldn’t have gambled. But no. His buddies would have none of that. One buddy in particular. And Mason had never been one to say no to a friend—even if that friend was nudging him along on the path to self-destruction.

Skye’s mouth tightened as she jerked open the truck door. She was behind one payment on the ranch and two payments on the truck. The first of the month—payment time—was inching closer, and she was rapidly running out of options. She climbed inside and rested her forehead on the steering.

She couldn’t operate the ranch without the yearly cow loan—the money that saw her through until she sold cattle. Having very few paydays during the year was the reason for the ranch account. Mason had no doubt planned to pay the account back with his next big win, either in the bull-riding arena or at the tables.

Mason always had big plans and every intention of carrying them out. He was young and no doubt thought he’d have lots of time to accomplish what he wanted, to rebuild Skye’s small family ranch, to start breeding bulls. An inattentive driver on the Vegas strip had put an end to all of that. And an end to Skye’s inherent belief that everything would work out if she was patient enough.

Things were nowhere close to working out.

Skye pressed her lips together and put the truck in gear. The now-familiar grinding sound came from the rear as she backed up, but, as usual, it disappeared when she put the truck in a forward gear. She ignored it. Worrying wouldn’t help anything. If it did, then the ranch would be solvent.

And now, plan B. The one she’d hoped to avoid. But after Mason’s funeral, her friend Jess Hayward had told her to call if she needed help. Made her promise to call. And she was going to make that call, regardless of whom he was related to. Now. Before she talked herself out of it.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Skye searched through her contacts and found Jess’s number. As luck would have it, he was in town. That was a good sign. Right?

“Sure,” he said when she asked if he had a few minutes to meet. “I’ll buy you a meal.”

“No, thank you.” She wouldn’t be able to eat while she was all worked up. “But I’ll have a Coke while you eat.”

“Maybe we can both have a Coke at the Shamrock and you can tell me what’s up.”

“Yes. That sounds good.” Ten minutes later she walked in the door of Gavin, Montana’s favorite drinking establishment and crossed the room to where Jess was already waiting at a table with two large Cokes in front of him.

Skye sat down and attempted a casual smile, which was harder than it should have been, due to the butterflies battling it out in her midsection. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. It has.” There was a touch of irony in his voice. Well deserved, since it had been over six months since she’d seen him.

“I’m sorry about that. Work and the ranch.” She made a small gesture. “You know.”

The expression in his eyes told her he understood what she was trying to say. She’d holed up physically as well as emotionally.

“This is really hard, Jess, so I’m just going to spit it out. Would you be able to float me a loan? Short term?”

“How much?” He made a move for his wallet, and Skye put up a hand, stopping him.

“A lot.” She took a steadying breath. “I’m behind on the truck payments. It’s close to paid off, and I don’t want it to go back to the bank.”

Jess’s expression clouded, and Skye continued before she lost her nerve. “I’m a little behind on the ranch, too.”

“Wow, Skye.” He spoke softly.

“Not a lot there. One payment, and I’m going to make a double payment this month and catch up. But those two things together have made it so that I can’t get a cow loan. And if I can’t get a cow loan, then I can’t operate, and what I make at the day job is a pittance compared to what I need.” She leaned back, feeling drained after the blurted confession. “I should have never agreed to mortgage the place, but obviously, I hadn’t expected Mason to die.”

Jess shifted in his chair. “I’m not in a good place right now.”

“Oh. I thought...” Skye’s voice trailed off. Rumor had it that when Jess’s parents sold the family ranch, they’d given each of their twin sons a healthy portion of the profits. If it hadn’t been for that much-repeated story, she would never have asked. “I apologize.”

“No.” He looked affronted. “I know why you asked, but Ty and I pretty much insisted that the folks invest the profit from the ranch into their own futures.” One corner of his mouth tightened a little. “They didn’t make a lot of money on the sale. Just enough to get out from under the debt and get started again in Texas.”

“That’s what I get for listening to rumors,” Skye said, still feeling embarrassed. “According to some of the old boys, you and Ty are rolling in dough.”

“That’s why I’m living in a crappy camp trailer.”

Skye started to smile in spite of herself. “I guess I should tell you that rumor has it you’re just biding your time until you start building your ‘big house.’ You’re in the process of looking for the right piece of property.”

Jess laughed and then reached for his untouched drink. Skye did the same. She still had the problems she had when she walked in, but somehow, talking to Jess made her feel better. As if she weren’t all alone.

“You know, Skye...” She looked up from her glass in time to see an uncertain expression play across his features. “Tyler’s doing well. He’s had a couple big paydays. The last one was huge.”

It felt as if a barrier had slammed into place at the sound of his twin’s name. “And I’m certain he wants to share his money with me. If I talked to him, he’d probably loan you the money.”

“Can’t do it,” Skye said. Because Tyler Hayward had been a big part of Mason’s problem and she didn’t see how she could live with herself if she tried to make him part of the solution.

Jess didn’t try to argue with her. He knew better. When they’d been kids growing up within a few miles of one another, she and Jess had become good friends. His twin, not so much. Tyler had been brash and loud and kind of mean. To her anyway. Snakes, spiders, smart-aleck remarks. He’d never shown any mercy.

Childhood issues she could have forgiven, but he’d also been instrumental in causing her current situation—that she couldn’t forgive. Tyler and Mason had been good friends. Great friends—the kind who gambled and drank together. Mason had tried so hard to give up the gambling, but, as he’d told her so often, the only way he could do that was to not go out. Tyler Hayward was all about the party, and he wanted his good buddy with him. The thing that really got to her was that she’d specifically asked Tyler to stop encouraging Mason to go out, and he’d blatantly ignored that request, which was why she wasn’t about to humble herself before him now and ask for money. She’d find a way.

“I assume you’ve had no luck with the banks.”

Skye shook her head. “Not for lack of trying. I owe too much on the mortgage to use the place as collateral. If I can get the cow loan, catch up on the truck...I think I’ll be okay. I’ll have to live really tightly for a year or two...” Her voice trailed off as she watched the expression shifting on Jess’s face. This was killing him almost as much as it was killing her. “But hey,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t fool either of them. “I’ve been through worse. You know I have.”

Jess let out a breath. “If it’s okay, I’ll make some inquiries—no names—just to see if anyone can float a cow loan.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Skye said softly.

“I know how hard it is for you to ask.”

Indeed, Skye was not a good asker—not after having self-sufficiency hammered into her for her entire life.

“That’s why I came to you,” Skye said. “You get it.” Unlike his brother. Why couldn’t he have understood Mason’s problem? Played ball? If he had...well, she couldn’t say Mason would be alive today, because he’d been on his way to the casino resort to check into a room when he got hit, but she’d be a lot better off.

“And now that I know how Ty’s doing with his bull riding, how are you doing with yours?”

“Stalled out at the moment. I’m living lean, still doing contract construction and trying to save enough money to follow Ty onto the circuit. You know, while I’m still young enough to get beat into the ground and bounce back.”

“You’re good, Jess. You should give it a shot.”

He lowered his gaze to study the table, as if this wasn’t a topic he was comfortable with. When he looked up at her, his expression was serious. “If I had the money, you know I’d give it to you.”

“Loan it to me.”

“That’s what I meant. Right now, living in the camp trailer, sharing it with Ty when he’s back in town...the prospect of hitting the road next year is one of the only things keeping me sane.”

* * *

SKYE DROVE HOME telling herself not to worry. She still had options, and she’d worked extra shifts to catch up on the ranch loan. She just needed to do the same with the truck. And the cow loan...she’d figure something out.

The porch squeaked under her feet as she mounted the stairs—a noise she’d long equated with her husband coming home from a bull-riding event, or back from the barn after chores. A good noise still, even though it made her feel lonely. She and Mason had had good times.

She pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, holding it open so that Jinx could shoot out as usual. The big gray cat disappeared into the lilac bushes without so much as a backward glance, but come morning, after he’d done his best to decimate the mouse population in the sheds and barns, he’d be back, wanting attention and lots of it.

Skye walked inside and hung her purse on the coat rack near the door. Her house was spotless. When she couldn’t sleep, she cleaned. And cleaned and cleaned. It cost very little money to clean a house, and it wore her out and thus made it possible to get at least a few hours of rest before heading to work in the morning.

But tonight she hoped she could simply fall asleep the way she used to be able to. Mason had once teased her that when ten o’clock came around, her eyes automatically shut regardless of where she was. It was for the most part true. Skye was a morning person, which was why the morning shift at the café had seemed so perfect—right up until sleep started to escape her, around the same time that the bills started stacking up.

Partial payment was now the name of the game. She hadn’t been turned over to collection, but if she missed one more truck payment...

Her stomach tightened, and she hugged her arms around herself. Looked like another night of heavy cleaning and organizing.