Page 11 of Hometown Hottie

I made a face at him as my eyes narrowed. “Are you going to add anything useful to this conversation?”

Frustration zapped across his features, hardening them as he shot a glare in the direction of the distant main house. We couldn’t even see it from here, but I knew that was where he was looking. “What do you want me to say, Novie? That we don’t have the money? We don’t have the money.”

As I turned back to the view of the sun dipping behind the mountain, a shaky breath rattled out of me and fear gripped my insides in its icy clutches. “We’re going to lose it, aren’t we? All of it.”

I saw my own emotions reflected back at me from Ryan’s eyes when they met mine. “Probably, yeah. Unless we can convince Dad to expand. I still think we should turn some of the grazing land into hay, wheat, and corn fields. It’s not an immediate fix, but at least it’ll provide some decent income once we get it going.”

“I know.” Ryan had been saying that for months now. I looked into it and he was right. Our father, however, didn’t want to hear it. “If he keeps refusing to build cabins for tourists, we could still start a social media page. Advertise the business. Build a brand. Again, though, it’ll also take time. None of our ideas are immediate fixes.”

“It doesn’t matter because Dad’s not going to go for it anyway.” We lapsed into silence for a beat, but Ryan suddenly grew tense, his mouth opening and closing like there was something he wanted to say but he was having trouble with it.

“What?” I asked. “Talk to me. If you’ve got another idea, tell me what it is and I’ll help you pitch it to him.”

“It’s not an idea so much as it is taking an offer.” My brother turned his head to look at me fully. “Frank’s offer, actually.”

Disbelief so intense that it made my ears ring smacked me in the face. “Excuse me?”

He sighed, raking both hands through his hair as he held my gaze, his own blues as haunted as mine right now, but he pushed on anyway. “Just hear me out, okay? It’s a last resort, but I’ve looked into it and that offer he made Dad really wasn’t bad. If we sell all but a third of the land, we could keep our houses and your bakery intact. Dad would have to downsize the cattle, but we’d still have some. We’d also be able to keep the sheep and hogs.”

Indignation raced through me, but as much as I hated what Frank stood for and what he represented, I hadn’t heard any of the people in town complain that he’d swindled them. As far as I knew, most people liked him as much as dog shit on their shoe, but even then, he was known for making fair offers.

He would have been run out of town a long time ago if folks started talking about him tricking people out of their properties.

I didn’t even know what he’d offered Dad. I’d never asked, but if Ryan thought it was a good price and if Frank would be willing to buy only two-thirds of the ranch and let us keep the rest, then perhaps it was something we had to consider.

It would be futile anyway. Dad would rather run this place into the ground before selling off the land that had been in our family since before the town had settled. Still, it was a possibility Ryan and I could keep in our back pockets as a last resort—just like he’d said.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and times had never been more desperate for the Murphys.

I nodded slowly as I looked at my brother again. “Okay, if the time ever comes, I’ll have your back. We’ll pitch the idea to Dad together. At least it would mean that we wouldn’t lose it all.”

Ryan gave me a sad smile. “We still might, Novie. You never know. It kind of makes me wish I had gone to play football back in the day, you know? I thought I was helping by staying here, but right around now, retiring with a fat bank account sure sounds more useful than helping with chores.”

My heart sputtered. “Speaking of which, I heard that Carson’s in town.”

“Vance too,” he said, but he didn’t seem too interested in talking about it. “Will you pass me the whiskey?”

I picked up the bottle but didn’t hand it over just yet. “You could’ve given me a heads-up that Carson was back, asshole. It would have been nice if I’d been able to brace for impact.”

Ryan plucked the bottle from between my fingers and waved me off with his free hand. “Why should you care that he’s back? You guys haven’t even talked in, what, ten years?”

Instead of pouring himself another drink like I’d expected him to, he pushed the chair back with a soft scrape and stood up. “You know what? You look like you need a shower and some rest, and so do I. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

I didn’t bother walking him out. Ryan came and went from here like it was his place. I bit my lip and tightened my grip on my drink as he left.

As much as I hated to admit it, my brother was right about this. Why should I care that Carson was back? After he’d left without a word and never contacted me again, he’d made himself pretty clear. We’d had a thing, but that was all it had been.

A thing. A fling—and not even a full-fledged one at that.

The best thing I could do was forget that he’d come home at all. I’d resolved to do just that the other day, but I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. As I downed the rest of my whiskey and trudged upstairs to my bathroom to finally grab that shower, I pushed Carson Drake out of my mind.

That boy—man, now—was hot as Hades, but just as much trouble. There was enough trouble in my life as it was. The last thing I needed was to invite more by allowing him into my head or my heart again.

It was over between us and it had been for a long time. All it needed to do was stay that way.