“You know something I don’t?” he asks, his tone laced with an edge.
“No. He left everyone in the dark.” Sawyer’s shoulders slump.
She’s invested in this place, yet she knows as much as or less than we do. Scandal, this house, and the brewery is the only real home I’ve had, and since Sawyer lost her parents, it’s been like that for her too. Ransom drove his kids away, and he may have taken me and Sawyer under his wings to fill the emptiness—and to do chores—but we weren’t his flesh and blood. He didn’t even tell his own kids what he’d leave behind.
I push my eggs around. “He might’ve been afraid of setbacks if he was trying to mend fences between you and your brothers.”
“Exactly.” Calder inhales a measured breath. “The question is, why would any changes he made bother me or the others?”
My hope lifts off the ground. I don’t need anything. Yes, it’ll be hard to start fresh somewhere, but not impossible. Ransom and I were close, but ultimately, I was just his kid sister-in-law. I know he loved me and Holly, but when I’d catch him staring into the distance, I’d bet all my money he was thinking of Julia or his boys.
“Want some eggs?” I ask to change the subject from will and trust talk. It’s not unusual for Sawyer to join me for breakfast since she works with Carlos as much as she’s at the clinic in town.
Her gaze lights up but darkens again when Calder digs into his food.
I’ll lose my appetite if Sawyer allows Calder to intimidate her by merely being a brooding cowboy at the dinner table. It’s going to be a long day. Saturday nights can be brutally busy.
“I’ll get you a plate. Sit.”
She does as I ask. She’s mostly likely starving, and she’s probably been surviving on coffee and adrenaline since she woke, but it looks like I commanded her, and she obeyed. Calder arches a brow at me, his expression almost impressed. I give him a “what?” look, and he smirks. The heat kindling in my belly is as dangerous as the way those pants mold over his ass and thighs.
TWELVE
CALDER
Once we’re all seated, the sound of forks on plates fills the air. I finish first but don’t leave. There’s plenty to do today, but a simple meal around a table is a siren’s call. A pleasure I haven’t indulged in for a long time. My company is salty and defensive, but even that’s abated since we’ve filled our bellies. I run a hand over my jaw. More damn questions swarm in my head than when I arrived. I’m supposed to be putting a lid on everything at Crossroads Ranch, but it’s getting thrown open wider.
“Why were there so many losses this past calving season?”
Sawyer pops her head up, surprised. “How do you know? Oh, right. Carlos mentioned you’re studying all the records.”
Diving into the books is something I’ve never done. Dad was, to be blunt, controlling and a micromanager. Now I can see why. The spreadsheets only got organized after Carlos started working for Crossroads, and even then, it’s like he had to make money out of thin air.
“It was a lower birth-rate year, in addition to two losses, and two more stillborn.” Concern passes through Sawyer’s gaze as she rattles off the stats.
I hate that I’m glad to see it. She didn’t react when she mentioned I had access to the ranch’s data and financials, but the loss of life bothers her. Is it from her mistake?
“I preg-checked the herd,” she explains, “and we were down, but I thought it was just the year. We have a few I knew would only have one more season in them.”
“A few makes a big difference when the number is this small.”
Our 150 head should be closer to 175, and it’s dwindling. Fewer births equals less sales. And aside from the sadness of the deaths, each one impacts the bottom line. Thousands of dollars in total. A herd this size can barely sustain the ranch. How did Dad keep it going? I haven’t delved into the bank records, but anxiety churns in my gut that I’ll discover loans and then more loans.
She nods, surprising me once more with her openness. Dad’s gruff voice echoes in my mind.That girl treats the animals like she’s the one who purchased them.He didn’t exaggerate about either girl and their commitment to each Cross endeavor. Unfortunately.
The decision my brothers and I made before my arrival weighs heavily on my conscience. The urge to reach over and entwine my fingers with Meredith’s is sudden, and my hand twitches. I sit up straighter. I’m not here to admire how pretty she’s become, or to enjoy cooking with her. I’m definitely going to ignore the pleasure of walking into the house and seeing her awake and rummaging through the fridge.
Sawyer pushes her plate away, snagging my attention. Thank fuck. “When we lost those two over the winter, I checked for parasites and inspected the hay they were getting fed. Nothing. Then, when we found the stillborns, I pushed for more testing. Something’s going on, and I’m afraid it might get worse.”
“Do you think it will?” I ask.
“I’m watching, and there are a few I’m worried about. They aren’t keeping weight.”
“Carlos didn’t mention anything.”
“He thinks it’s par for the course. And it can be, but the weather has been too mild. Aside from navigating around a muddy spring, it’s been nice and dry, but also not too dry.”
She’s right. Something else she says bothers me. “Who wouldn’t do more testing?”
