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No one else had touched the place other than to clean since his death. For that I was grateful. I grabbed a rocks glass, adding two ice cubes and poured a hefty amount of liquor. As I leaned against the counter, I thought about where to begin. I had a meeting at Hank’s office in the morning, something I found myself dreading. However, it was necessary.
The next day was my grandfather’s funeral, for which Hank had also made all the arrangements. For about a dozen reasons that had pissed me off. I’d learn those details as well because my grandfather had wanted to be buried on this land. That was going to happen. I’d made certain of it. It was the least I could do for the man.
As I took a sip, savoring the bold, smooth flavor, I allowed another series of memories to flow through my mind. Unfortunately, nothing would bring him back. The fact I’d ignored his last two calls weighed heavily on my mind. Why had I done that? Oh, that’s right. Because both times I’d been late for a very important meeting. I tried to remember what the man had told me.
Shit. I’d blanked his words out, but I did remember the urgency in his tone. Why? The last call had been two or three weeks prior to his death. While I wasn’t the kind of man to lean on conspiracy theories, I had a bad feeling sticking in my craw. Now I was thinking like the man I’d done a good job of ignoring.
No, I did remember one statement. He’d needed my help, the only person he could trust. What the hell was going on and why did my instinct tell me he and Hank were never friends in the first place?
After looking into the empty refrigerator, I realized I’d need to go grocery shopping in the morning. Hopefully, there was coffee. I’d drink it black if needed. Before heading out of the room, I noticed an odd-looking platter sitting on the kitchen table. I walked closer, surprised that something so… family oriented would be in his possession. I noticed the wording and smiled. It was meant for giving gifts of food then having it returned full of something else delicious. Maybe there were some things I didn’t know about my grandfather after all.
At this point, I needed to continue my method of discovery, learning everything I could about the house. Grabbing the file, I headed back to the living room, retrieving my briefcase holding the limited information Hank had already provided. For the night, I moved toward one of the two couches, placing the case on the massive ornate wooden coffee table. I could work from here tonight, using my grandfather’s office later. Right now, I wanted to find as much information on Sarah Logan as I could. While Hank certainly wanted the girl gone, I wasn’t typically in the habit of ousting someone if they had a contract.
Sadly, Hank had alluded to the fact that she’d strong-armed my grandfather into allowing her to stay. Yet Luis had mentioned she worked with the horses. My thoughts drifted back to the fact Sarah had been left something in the will. While ten thousand dollars was a drop in the bucket in comparison to what the ranch was worth, it was still something.
Correction. The sum was nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents. To me the odd figure indicated my grandfather had wanted to make certain Sarah wouldn’t be required to pay tax on the gift. But she wasn’t family. Too many things weren’t adding up already. Still, there nothing my grandfather ever did that didn’t have a direct purpose.
I was suddenly eager to meet her. Maybe she had been his love interest. Then why not leave her more than ten thousand? I’d find out tomorrow one way or the other.
I took another sip of my drink before placing the glass on the table, grabbing my laptop and powering it up. As I waited, I rubbed my eyes, thinking about Red once again. Her incredible scent had managed to paint my skin, the hot shower unable to rid me of it.
I pulled my arm under my nose, able to smile as I gathered just a hint. Exotic. Floral. Sweet. Unlike the woman herself. But dear God, I did love a feisty filly. A real laugh erupted from my chest; that was another expression my grandfather had used.
As soon as the icons popped up on the screen, I navigated to the file I’d saved. I hadn’t spent any time on the woman living in the caretaker’s house. There’d been no real need up to this point; however, if I was going to consider selling, I would need to give her a week or so to find a new place. That was generous enough. Right? I navigated to the limited information, finding almost nothing. No contract. No terms of agreement. No emails with notes about her work with the horses. Nothing.
Except a phone number.
Well, it was apparent the only decent way of discovering who she was and her deal with my grandfather would be to spend time with her. I only hoped she wasn’t a crier. I hated dealing with women who became emotional about everything. That would make my job harder. Plus, tears had never worked on me and never would.
Yep. I was just like my father.
I grabbed my phone, pressing the numbers. I wasn’t certain what I’d expected but the voicemail had far too much noise in the background. I wanted to laugh. It was as if she’d recorded her message in the middle of a bar.
“So if you’re not an asshole, a scammer, or a bill collector, leave a message. If you’re one of those three, go straight to hell. Maybe you could stop for poison on the way.”
Beep.
Now that was a message from a brazen woman.
“Ms. Logan, this is Sebastian Cawthorne, Walter Cawthorne’s grandson. I’m the executor of my grandfather’s estate, in town to possibly prepare the ranch for purchase. I need to speak with you given you’re living on the property. From what I understand, you have no lease agreement. I plan on meeting you at your home tomorrow around two in the afternoon. If that doesn’t work for you, please return my call. If it does, I will see you tomorrow.”
I barely managed to recite my number before the ending beep occurred. Laughing, I ended the call, holding the phone to my head. Maybe the mystery woman could shed some light for me. I’d used my best business voice, one that was harsh and unforgiving.
It was vital I do so, not becoming too attached to the ranch. Business was business after all. My life was in Miami, not here.
That was something I was determined to remember.
CHAPTER 9
Five minutes earlier…
Jessie
“I’m hungry, Mama.”
Britta’s little voice pushed another wave of worry into my mind and heart. I struggled to get her out of the car seat, exhausted and full of worry. Thoughts regarding the ranch were difficult to process, but I was certain the bastard who’d taken over because of Walter’s death would kick me out. I needed to find the agreement I’d made with the amazing man, only I wasn’t entirely certain where I’d stored it.
I was full of despair, still so saddened Walter had died and it only had but so much to do with worry about housing. He’d been such a caring man, a reminder there were good people in this world.
