He gestured at his car, which was full to bursting. “I’ve been driving a while and my things?—”
My usual level of ingrained hospitality would have me offering to help him; hell, that was me to the core, but the way he stood there like a threat? I couldn’t see past that.
“You’re on your own.”
For the first time, Lucas’s composure slipped. Just a fraction.
I ignored him, headed straight for the barn, the familiar smell of hay and oil and animals grounding me more than anything else had all day. Jake was already there, sleeves shoved up, pitching fresh straw into a stall with more force than necessary.
“New owner is here then?” Jake asked without looking up.
“Part owner, and yeah,” I said to correct him.
I grabbed the first thing within reach—a shovel,still crusted with frozen dirt—and started scraping out the old bedding. Each shove sent a jolt up my arms, straight to my shoulders, everything aching, protesting, but I kept going anyway. Sweat broke under my coat despite the cold. My hands shook. I didn’t stop because this was easier than thinking.
“Jesse,” Jake said.
I ignored him and jammed the shovel in again, breath coming too fast now, vision tunneling at the edges. Fucking tired didn’t even cover it.
Jake stepped in, caught the handle, and then his hand was on my shoulder—solid, familiar, stopping me whether I liked it or not.
“Hey. Enough,” he said quietly.
I stood there, chest heaving, staring at the packed dirt floor as if it had personally offended me. “I got a letter today,” I said, and saying it out loud made it worse. “People interested in buying what he apparently wants to sell.”
Jake’s hand tightened on my shoulder, and he gestured to the car outside. “His intent is to sell?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Jake was quiet for a moment. Then, “He has to do the six months to inherit, right?”
Most people at Snow Creek, hell, probably the entire town of Chance, knew what Walter’s will had said. Not only was there the shock that any of it went to me when I was nothing more than the old foreman’s son, but then, there was the mysterious grandson who’d gotten the rest.
“Yeah.”
“Well, six months is a long time for him to change his mind.”
I finally looked at my best friend, someone who’d seen almost everything going on in my life. “Doesn’t matter what he wants, my quarter vote is enough to stop him selling.”
“Who else knows about him thinking of selling?”
“Just us, but I’ll probably give Ruth a heads-up in case there are any calls that come in when she’s in the office, but there’s no sense in worrying everyone yet, unless he goes around shouting about it.”
“Boss?” Colt and Miguel walked in, Miguel already gabbing in his usual way. “A couple of the bred heifers in the south pasture aren’t settling right. One’s off her feed. We thought you’d want to know.”
“Okay.”
“And one of ‘em keeps trying to climb the fence like she’s got someplace better to be,” he added, laughing. “I swear, if she figures out the latch, we’re all screwed. She’s heavy, though. Close. Might need to move her up by the barn. Just in case.”
“What Miguel said,” Colt smiled.
Miguel bounced on his heels. “I can grab panels. Or the calving kit. Or both. I’m not saying disaster is imminent, but Iamsaying she gave me a look like she’s about to do something dramatic.”
Jesse exhaled through his nose. “We’ll check them after lunch. Colt, can you spare some time to keep an eye on the quiet one?”
“Sure, boss.”
“And, Miguel?—”
