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Harley stormed across the room and yanked out the chair she chose to sit on. None of this was fair. Her only option at this point was for her mother to take pity on her and give her the gift early.
Fat chance of that happening.
It was like Vern had said before. Blaire was scary. It didn’t matter that she was fifteen years his junior. Harley picked up a piece of cutlery and stabbed it into her food, then she glanced over at the book Vern was reading. She couldn’t see much but the dark color scheme. Figured that her uncle preferred books to newspapers. Her mother had always said he was a little too much in his own world to bother with reality.
“So what are these chores I’m going to have to do?”
Vern turned a page and then took another bite of his toast.
“You realize you can’t just boss me around when you feel like it and then ignore me. The road goes both ways. I’m not going to stay here if—”
“We both know you’re going to stay here because you want that money. That’s all you Pembrookes ever wanted.”
“Yeah, well, you got your share of money. Why shouldn’t I get mine?”
Vern finally glanced over in her direction. He placed his book on the table. “And what would you want to do with your money? Would you plan on making the world a better place? Donate it to charities? Or would you do everything in your power to keep it all for yourself and your greedy desires?”
She huffed, her mouth falling open. “Who said I was greedy?”
The way he eyed her, letting his gaze sweep over her in that judgmental way he had when he’d picked her up from the airport, made her feel more vulnerable than she liked to admit. She’d never been intimidated by anyone besides her mother.
But suddenly, Uncle Vern was taking hold of that part inside her that cared what other people thought. She snapped her mouth shut and swallowed hard as she looked away. “I don’t know what I would do with my money,” Harley murmured.
“Well, when you figure that out, let me know. I’m very curious what your thoughts on the matter are.” Vern picked up his napkin and dabbed at his mouth before getting to his feet and retrieving his dishes. “Finish up. We’ve got a lot of work to do before my meeting.”
She straightened with curiosity. “You’re going to town?”
“No. I’m hiring some help around here.”
Before she could ask him if that meant she would have fewer responsibilities, he moved away from the table and commenced washing his dishes. Even though his quiet nature intimidated her, she wasn’t about to let an old man like Vern ruin her whole summer. She’d figure him out. She’d just have to do some digging.
3
Mason
Mason climbed out of his truck at the edge of the property. It wasn’t unusual for ranchers to block off their property with a large gate, but this one wasn’t like anything he’d seen. From the looks of it, Mason wouldn’t be able to move it even if he put all his weight behind it.
The gate was tall, constructed of intricate wrought iron, and it was electric. There was an intercom system set up with a keypad full of numbered buttons. Mason felt like he was trying to get onto the property of some famous person or a member of the royal family.
As far as he knew, Shane Owens was the wealthiest member of the community—as evidenced by the massive empire he’d created since his arrival. Vern Abrams was the quiet guy who didn’t invite anyone to his property, and those who had worked for him were all hush-hush.
Granted, just because Mr. Abrams had a gate that would prevent the folks around here from gaining access to his property, that didn’t mean he had any more money than the Keagan family. The ranch could have come equipped with this form of security long before Abrams arrived.
Mason moved toward the gate and peered through it. From the slope of the earth, he couldn’t see the house or the barn. Actually, he couldn’t see any evidence of life anywhere. If the GPS system hadn’t brought him here, he might have thought he’d come to the wrong place.
He shuffled over to the intercom and touched the hard ridges. There was a button for him to push in order to call whoever was on the other side of that fence. At this point, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be here to find out what Abrams had in mind.
His hesitancy didn’t stop there.
Wade might have recommended that Abrams ask one of the Keagans to help, but that didn’t mean the rest of his family would be on board. While Mason thought they didn’t appreciate their large family as they should, his brother would definitely be offended that one of their own ran off to work for the competition.
Lucky for him, he hadn’t agreed to anything. He doubted that Mr. Abrams could offer him anything worth walking away from his family over. There was nothing he really needed.
His thumb hovered over the button that would call the household. This was his crossroads. If he walked over the threshold onto the property, that would put a few things into motion.
Mason gritted his jaw tight. He wasn’t scared of anything. And even if he chose to work for this man, it wouldn’t mean he was any less of a Keagan for doing so.
With that thought, he pushed the button.
