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“But—”
“But what, Jackson?” Ellie said. “You were saying earlier we need a nurse, and a nurse has arrived like an angel from heaven.”
An angel dressed in blue jeans and a gray Washington t-shirt.
“Don’t you think Lexi might be an answer to prayer?”
“I don’t have to stay,” Lexi said, putting up her hands. But again he got the feeling that she wasn’t miffed or offended. She was simply stating a fact.
“Don’t be silly.” Ellie dragged Lexi away even as she gave him an “are you serious?” look. “Come meet Mom. Then we can let that decide if she wants you to stay. Honestly.” She shot Jackson dagger eyes, and further protest ceased as a knock came at the door.
The realtor. Great. Jackson hurried to the sink and splashed water on his face, willing himself to wake up so he could think more clearly. Why did he feel like everything was slipping out of his fingers?
A moment later he was opening the door, pasting on a smile. “Hey, Bob. Thanks for coming out.”
Bob Ingalls was a grizzled old coot, but he’d known the Reilly family forever. And he attended church, which should mean Jackson could trust him. Even if he knew he could trust Rhonda, Bob’s wife, to flap her gums.
They shook hands. “Never thought I’d see the day.” Bob looked around.
“Come in.”
He wished he’d had a chance to spruce the place up a bit. Seeing it through someone else’s eyes—Bob’s and, now he thought about it, Lexi’s—he realized just how tired and rundown the house looked. But it met their needs and had served their family well. Besides, today wasn’t about trying to make good impressions but seeing if there was any way to salvage something of the ranch while getting some money for land they didn’t use.
“Come on in.” Jackson cleared papers off the office’s spare chair before pulling out the file that held the property deeds.
“I gotta ask upfront: why am I talking to you and not your mom?” Bob asked. “Isn’t she the rightful owner?”
The rightful owner was actually the man who had disappeared over two decades ago. But there was nothing right about that man having any say in the ranch’s future. Not when he’d made it clear he didn’t want to be a part of theirs.
“Mom isn’t well. And as you know I’ve been looking after things for the past ten years or so.”
“Uh huh.” Bob eyed him with a look that said he saw more than Jackson wanted. “What about your pa?”
“What about him?”
“Does your dad know about this?”
“Why would he?”
Bob’s eyebrows plummeted. “Have you spoken to the man at all?”
“Not a word since he ran out of here. Nobody’s seen hide nor hair of him in years. I was given power of attorney after he was declared legally dead, remember?”
“I do.”
Jackson drew in a deep breath, bracing for further argument.
“Well, it can’t hurt to just talk, now, can it?” Bob leaned back in his chair.
“No, sir. Like I said on the phone, it’d be helpful to know what our options are.”
Bob nodded. “Have you got a site survey, like I asked?”
Jackson handed it over. “Right here.”
Jackson studied the man, his heart thudding louder than the wicked pulse in his brain, as Bob frowned and nodded and ahemed. “So the property borders the Darcy estate all this way.” He showed Jackson the map and drew a line down the western side.
“Yep.”
