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“You’re just in time. Lunch is almost out of the oven.” I swallow a sigh and step back, opening the door wider.
That makes Sierra notice I’m there.
She instantly glares at me.
Of course.
“What’s the point of this, sis?” she asks sulkily. “We already know you’re not selling. You’re just making things more difficult.”
Deeeep breaths, I tell myself.
Don’t snap at her yet…
…or murder her.
It takes me a few seconds, and I have to turn away, crossing the big open ranch house to the kitchen and pulling the oven open.
The savory scent of shepherd’s pie drifts out. I keep my hands busy—and not on anyone’s throat—by tugging on a pair of oven mitts and bending in to retrieve the pan.
“The point,” I say—and I can only keep my voice even by not looking at them, “is to try to talk this through. You’re right, Sierra. I’m not selling. But we’re sisters, and I don’t want to wind up in court and bleed us both dry.” I turn to set the pan on the counter, eyeing Declan. “I only invited him as a courtesy ’cause he’s your man. I don’t want him here as a representative of the bank.”
Declan sniffs, though he offers me a pretty shit-eating smile. “You do understand I can’t not take any information I learn here into consideration when handling your case?”
“You can do what you will with whatever, but you’re not getting me to sell, buster,” I say firmly.
I’m trying to hold my ground without being nasty, without more screaming and hollering and raised fists.
But I have an ugly feeling that’s not gonna last.
“So what’s your big idea?” There’s a spark of hope when Sierra folds her arms over her chest, eyeing me skeptically.
“I’m not sure yet.” I shake my head. “I was hoping you’d have some thoughts. My biggest hope, right now, is that if I negotiate some kind of payment plan with the bank, I can buy a little time and do something to pull in enough business to make this work.”
Sierra scoffs. “What business? Trotting kids around on toy ponies?”
I narrow my eyes. “Look, this could be a full-on cattle ranch and crop farm if we had the money to invest in the right stuff and extra hands on deck. But since the only way to get that money is to sell the ranch, it’s a damn conundrum, ain’t it?”
She sniffs. “Conundrum, ooh. Big word for someone who never went to college.”
I rip the oven mitts off, flinging them down on the counter, glowering at her. “And them’s fighting words for someone who ran away before she even graduated high school—”
“Libby,” Declan cuts in. He’s all ingratiating but talking so loud it’s like trying to talk over a brick wall. “I’m afraid that’s not an option. The bank’s not in a position to offer you a payment plan on a lien.”
I eye him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why the hell not? Reid Cherish said—”
“That’s just not how it works.” There’s an odd look on his face, and he clears his throat.
“Oh, yeah? Seems like that’s exactly how it works to me.” I jab a finger in his direction. “I owe money for back taxes, and since I ain’t paid, they put a lien on my ranch. So if I sell, the tax man gets a cut of the property to pay off what I owe, the bank gets their service fee, and everybody’s happy. If I don’t sell, they get to use your bank to legally pressure me into a damn foreclosure. Now why the hell wouldn’t the bank be in a position to take the money I owe? Especially if it means they get the full amount plus interest on a payment plan?”
He draws himself up with his shoulders squared, looking down his nose at me. “I’m afraid it’s too intricate. If you’ll let me—”
“Don’t get snooty with me. Just ’cause I ain’t a college girl doesn’t mean I didn’t learn how this whole ball of wax works the second I got the letter in the mail.” I plant my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes and raking him with an up and down look. “Don’t talk down to me ’cause I know your job better than you do.”
Declan splutters, and for a second his face scares me.
It’s just this mask of pure red-faced hate because I stepped on his dick.
There’s violence brewing in his eyes—violence and unrestrained loathing.
I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen a look like that on any banker’s face.
Something about this man stinks to high heaven.
But try telling my sister that when she thrusts herself between us, right in front of Declan like she’ll protect him from little old me.
Whatever, maybe she’s got a point.
If he makes any rash moves, I’ll knee him square in the nuts.
Sierra glares at me, her lower lip thrust out. “Is this why you asked us here, Libby? To insult us?”
