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And what had I given him in return?
I’d tried to put Harrington Ranch in debt. Stopped when he and I had become close, and I couldn’t stand my conscience. Then left his ranch to deteriorate when he’d been sick for years and couldn’t handle managing it effectively anymore.
I remembered our conversations, the texture of his old, wrinkled hands as he pointed out how to make the ranch flourish. The twinkle in his eyes when he spoke of the golden days of Harrington Ranch.
My closeness to the old man had made all the people around him trust me, including his lawyer.
But when illness had ravaged his mind and body and he’d needed someone the most, I’d been too wrapped up in my success. I’d been too blinded by ambition to care for his declining ranch. I hadn’t even offered to help him maintain or rebuild it when he was seriously ill.
A knot tightened in my stomach, guilt gnawing at me.
My prosperous ranch reminded me of how I’d neglected the one that helped me turn my fortunes around.
I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see the image. But then the memory of Anna’s reaction when I talked about her grandpa came back to me. The way she’d stood up abruptly, her face stricken. Her strained voice.
If only she knew that I grieved for Grandpa William too. But in the worst possible way. I wished I could turn back time to be there for the old man as he’d been there for me. I wish I could change my actions.
But it was too late.
And now I saw myself clearly. Wanting to take from the granddaughter the little that remained of her grandfather’s ranch. Would it be wise to do that, even if it had been my father’s wish? Could I really take the ranch away from Anna without her consent?
Just then, a worker approached me, frowning.
“Richard, the developer, is here,” he said with a slight curl of his lips.
I could hear the undertones of distaste in his voice.
Richard.
The mention of that name had an uncanny ability to send a shiver of unease down my spine. My conscience made me wonder if it had been wise to involve myself in Richard’s scheming, especially after neglecting Grandpa William in his final days.
Yet, I had to do it no matter how distasteful it was. It was my father’s last wish that Harrington Ranch become a part of ours.
I straightened up, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable exhausting discussion.
“Show him in,” I murmured.
I walked towards the main ranch house and spotted Richard near his car.
As always, he was every inch the city slicker even out here in the wild. His suit was crisp and a stark contrast to the denim and flannels of my ranch. His polished shoes seemed to repel the dust of the land.
He held himself with an air of superiority, smirking as if he already owned everything he surveyed. There was a thick file in his hand.
I gestured for him to come up to the porch.
“Hi, Max,” he greeted with that familiar, sly smile. The one that never reached his cold eyes.
My body tensed up. My skin crawled.
“Richard,” I replied cautiously.
He gestured grandiosely at the horizon, his voice dripping with entitlement.
“I just came to get a feel for the land that will soon be mine.”
I cleared my throat, uneasily.
“The Harrington Ranch is not yours yet.”
