The ranch was alive, humming with activity, and for a moment, Charlie Grace let herself feel the pride that came with keeping it that way.
Inside, Clancy and Aunt Mo were already bickering good-naturedly, and the familiar sound made her smile. She had her hands full, no doubt about it, but this life—messy and complicated as it was—was hers. And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
By mid-morning, the feeding was done, and Charlie Grace headed for her office in the lodge, brushing off hay from her jeans as she walked. The wide windows of the lodge framed the sprawling pastures beyond, but she barely noticed the view. Her mind was already on the stack of mail that waited for her.
Inside, her office smelled faintly of cedar and coffee. She sat down at her desk, flipping on her desk lamp and pulling the mail closer. The stack was thicker than usual, a mixture of envelopes in various sizes and colors.
She started with the smallest ones, tearing through a slew of utility bills—electricity, propane, and water—all higher than expected thanks to the harsh winter. She added them to a growing pile before moving on to the next set of envelopes. Veterinary invoices for the horses. Feed delivery costs. A late notice from the fencing company she’d hired last fall to replace the paddocks.
Her chest tightened as the numbers added up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push back the headache threatening to creep in.
Finally, she reached the last envelope from Thunder Mountain Savings and Loan, her bank. With a heavy sigh, she tore it open and pulled out a statement. Her heart sank as she scanned the transaction details, her stomach doing a flip when her gaze landed on a particular expenditure evidenced by a cleared check tucked inside the envelope.
A check for $500. Made out to Gibbs Nichols.
“What the hell?” she murmured, holding the paper closer.
Her father’s signature scrawled across the bottom was unmistakable. Charlie Grace clenched her jaw as her cheeks flushed with anger. Gibbs Nichols—the man who always seemed to turn up like a bad penny—had somehow managed to weasel his way into her father’s wallet. Again.
She set the statement down and opened her laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she logged into the ranch’s operating account. The balance appeared on the screen, confirming what the statement said. The check had cleared two days ago.
Charlie leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking beneath her. She stared at the screen, the tightness in her gut now a full-blown ache. The ranch’s finances were already stretched thin. Which is why she’d declined loaning her ex-husband money when he’d hit her up for it the other day.
This...this was a blow they couldn’t afford. And to make matters worse, her dad knew it.
Her fist curled against the desk as she thought about the arguments they’d had about Gibbs in the past. Her father always swore he wouldn’t let Gibbs take advantage again, yet here was the proof in black and white.
With a heavy sigh, she closed the laptop and rubbed her temples. “Looks like we’re having a little talk, Dad.”
Her gaze wandered out the window, the peaceful view of the ranch doing little to calm her racing thoughts. One thing was clear—she needed to get to the bottom of this, and fast.
Charlie Grace stormed across the yard, the gravel crunching angrily under her boots as she made her way to the house. Her blood boiled with every step, the statement and check still clutched tightly in her hand. The sun glinted off the frost-tipped grass, but she barely noticed. All she could think about was Gibbs Nichols and her father’s baffling decision to hand him $500 without so much as a conversation.
Arriving at the backdoor leading into the kitchen, she kicked off the snow from her boots and threw it open, stepping inside with a determined stride. Her father’s wheelchair sat near the dining table, where Clancy Rivers casually worked a crossword puzzle. Aunt Mo was perched nearby, folding towels and humming to herself. Both of them looked up as Charlie Grace entered, her boots stomping on the hardwood floor.
“Dad,” she snapped, holding up the bank statement like it was evidence in a trial. “You want to explain this?”
Clancy squinted at the paper and set down his pen. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me,” Charlie Grace fired back. “You wrote a check to Gibbs. Five hundred dollars. Are you kidding me right now?”
Aunt Mo froze mid-fold, her expression shocked. “Clancy, tell me she’s wrong.”
Clancy let out a huff, rolling his wheelchair back a few inches. “Now hold on, both of you. It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”
“Oh, really?” Charlie Grace said, hands on her hips. “Because from where I stand, it looks worse than bad.”
Clancy sighed and leaned back in his chair, giving Charlie Grace a patient but knowing look. “Honey, I know you’re upset. But Gibbs is trying. He’s always been a little…impulsive, but he’s got good intentions.”
Charlie Grace threw her hands in the air. “Good intentions? Good intentions don’t pay the feed bill or the propane to heat the lodge and the house. And they sure as heck don’t undo all the damage he’s done to this family.”
Clancy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m not defending what he’s done in the past. You know that. But people deserve second chances, and sometimes third or fourth ones. I’ve had my share of those, remember?”
Charlie Grace’s face softened for just a second as memories of her dad’s hard-fought struggle to reconcile with her mother after a one-time indiscretion flashed through her mind. But just as quickly, the frustration surged back. “That’s different. You made changes, Dad. Real ones. Gibbs just keeps screwing up and expecting everyone to bail him out.”
“Maybe so,” Clancy said quietly. “But you know as well as I do that holding onto all that anger isn’t doing you any good. He’s Jewel’s father, and that little girl looks up to him like he hung the moon.”
Charlie Grace flinched. It was true. Jewel adored her daddy. Which is exactly why Charlie Grace had bent as far as she had in the past. But this—well, a willow branch could only flex so far without breaking.
