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“Good.” Vern got to his feet, gathering his dishes as he did. He moved across the room toward the kitchen sink, then paused. “I don’t know what you said to Mason to get him to agree to working for me, but I want to make it clear I’m the one calling the shots.”
She went stiff, not daring to meet his gaze.
“You came here because you have made a series of unfortunate decisions. You’re here to gain some character. As such, you’re going to learn hard work and manners that your mother failed to instill in you. This experience will only be as easy or as hard as you make it.”
And just like that, Harley’s defenses went up. “This is a prison, not a vacation. I get it,” she muttered.
For a moment she thought he might comment back—to tell her that she was ungrateful and selfish. But he didn’t. Vern dumped his garbage, placed his dishes in the sink, and then left the room.
11
Mason
This was a mistake. Mason knew it the second he drove up to Mr. Abrams’ home. It wasn’t just the fact that he would be forced to interact with Harley—a woman who continued to rub him the wrong way—but also the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to tell his brothers that he’d been hired by a neighboring ranch weighed on him.
Wade didn’t care. Elijah was who Mason worried about. Mason wasn’t sure how his older brother would react. For all he knew, Elijah would get it in his head to disown any member who didn’t support the family one hundred percent.
Mason let his truck door shut and leaned against it as he contemplated the consequences of driving away. Mr. Abrams wasn’t like the more well-known families in town. He wasn’t as wealthy as Shane Owens, and his reach didn’t go as far as Mr. Callahan’s. Even the Baker family had more pull in the community.
For all intents and purposes, Vern Abrams was a hermit. As far as Mason was aware, the old man didn’t have any friends in town and didn’t want any. That was why it was so surprising when Mr. Abrams asked Mason to work for him—even more shocking that he was willing to leave his estate to Mason when the time came.
A sigh burst from Mason’s chest.
Who was he kidding? He knew better than to believe he could turn down Abrams’ offer. The Keagans had always struggled to make ends meet. Even with a family of twelve, they couldn’t bring in enough to support their family. Wade was doing a better job now that he had Brielle’s help, but the Callahan influence could only go so far.
Mason reached into his truck through the open window and grabbed his cowboy hat. There were worse things than dealing with Elijah’s wrath and Harley’s annoying antics. He wanted a good future—one where he could provide for everything his future wife and family would need.
He wasn’t sure how much money he’d get from Mr. Abrams, but a turn-key farm was more than enough to get him started. Mason hurried up the front steps. The family should have been done with breakfast if they shared the same kind of schedule most of the farmers and ranchers around this area followed. That meant he’d likely find Abrams in his office or out working. From the looks of it, the former was more likely.
Mason couldn’t hear or see evidence that anyone was out working with the animals or in the fields. He rapped his knuckles on the door and waited for someone to answer. When no one came, he headed down the steps toward the barn. There had to be someone around.
Mr. Abrams had agreed to meet with him to go over the paperwork for their agreement. Mason stepped into the barn and wandered along the stalls. Then a flash of something black caught his attention in the one to his right.
He stopped and moved closer. Harley sat among fresh straw. She had a phone in her hand and her thumb swiped upward as she stared at it. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and that was where she rested her hand. Mason watched for a few moments, then rested folded arms across the stall door. “Done with your chores already?”
Harley’s head snapped up and she dropped her phone. The look on her face made it clear she had been caught doing something against the rules. Her eyes darted to the straw where she retrieved the phone and she jumped to her feet. “How long have you been spying on me?” she accused. “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?”
Mason scowled. There was no way he was going to engage with her. Her statement was nothing but a big red flag. He couldn’t work for Mr. Abrams—not when he would have to be around Harley every day.
He turned around and took a few steps toward the exit. “Do me a favor and tell your uncle that I’ve changed my mind.” Mason tossed the words over his shoulder, not caring that this decision would destroy any respect he might have gotten from Mr. Abrams. He wasn’t going to get the farm anyway.
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Harley hurried after him, barreling past him, only to come to stand in his way with both hands held up. “You can’t. You already agreed…”
Anything he might have said to her in that moment died on his tongue as his eyes swept over her outfit. She wore a button-up shirt rolled up to her elbows, a pair of overalls, and boots. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked like she’d been born and raised in Colorado.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he dragged his gaze back to her face.
Her worry shifted to contempt. “What are you looking at?”
Mason shook his head, chuckling as he removed his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Nothing.”
She crossed her arms, her eyes darkening. “You’re making fun of me!” she snapped.
“I didn’t say a single thing.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re making fun of what I’m wearing. I can tell.”
He placed his hat on his head, chuckling as he brushed past her. “I’m doing no such thing.”
