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Until now.
As soon as she’d laid those pretty Irish green eyes on him, he’d felt like he’d been bucked off a Brahman bull and then slammed by the same bull into a wall. The entire time she’d been there, he’d struggled to catch his breath. And he couldn’t figure out why. He’d been all over the world and had dated a lot of beautiful women. But not one of them had stolen his breath.
And his wits.
With his lack of oxygen, he’d struggled to keep up with their conversation. Now that she was gone, his brain started functioning again. The first thing that popped into it was Liberty’s comment about Corbin refusing to let Rome Remington pay off Hank Holiday’s loan. Liberty had to have misunderstood. Corbin wouldn’t refuse the loan being paid off in full with interest. That made no sense. Corbin liked making money as much as Jesse did.
Jesse lifted his cellphone. Instead of calling Corbin again, who, with the international time change, was probably sleeping, he called the lawyer working on the foreclosure case.
When he had invested in Oleander Investments, he had made it clear to his brother that he would be a silent partner. He would offer advice when Corbin asked, but other than that, he’d let Corbin run the business the way he saw fit. He had no plans to change that. He wouldn’t keep his brother’s trust by breaking his word and butting his nose into the business. But he also couldn’t help being curious.
“Yes, I talked with Mr. Remington’s lawyers about paying off the loan,” Samantha Letts said. “But Mr. Whitlock told me to refuse their offer.”
“Did Corbin say why?”
“No. He just said to continue with the foreclosure. But I’m assuming he has a good reason. Mr. Whitlock doesn’t make any decision without doing his research.”
It was the truth. Corbin was the most thorough person Jesse had ever met. He spent hours reading every word of legal documents and just as many hours writing them. While Jesse occasionally went with his gut and took a chance, Corbin didn’t leave anything to chance. He researched every business decision he made and had all the details before he made a move.
So why had he loaned Hank Holiday the money? At first Jesse had thought it was strictly a good business opportunity. Interest rates were high. Whether Hank paid the loan off or Corbin ended up owning the ranch, it was a win-win proposition. But now that he’d found out about Rome Remington offering to pay off the loan in full, Jesse wasn’t so sure this was a business deal to Corbin. If money were the incentive, why wouldn’t he just let Rome pay off the loan? Especially when land prices were down and selling the ranch was a greater financial risk. Not to mention the hassle and legalities it took to foreclose on a ranch.
The questions continued to plague Jesse for the rest of the day—most of which was spent at the trailer keeping an eye on the daughter of Satan while he answered emails and dealt with his own business ventures.
As much as he enjoyed searching for new ways to make money, he had to admit that the thrill of choosing a good investment—whether stocks, real estate, or businesses—had been fading in the last couple years. Of course, his joy in a lot of things had been fading. Rodeo roping had lost its appeal. Traveling wasn’t as exciting, and he’d started to feel bored and antsy after only days of being in a new country.
His family wanted him to come back to Bramble and help with the family business. He did love the little town, but after only a few weeks there, he started feeling like something was missing. And he had never wanted to piggyback on his family’s wealth. He liked making his own way in the world. He knew Corbin liked that too. Which is why he’d stayed out of his brother’s business.
Until now.
Around five o’clock, he tried calling Corbin. When his call went to voicemail, he left a brief message before he got Tay-Tay her dinner. The vicious kitten attacked it like a lion on its prey and devoured every last water-soaked kibble. Jesse felt just as hungry. But since there wasn’t a speck of human food in the trailer, he would have to head into town for his supper. He went to pick up Tay-Tay to put her in her room, but she hissed and spat at him. Since there was nothing in the trailer that she could harm, or that could harm her, he held up his hands.
“Have it your way.” It wasn’t until he went to climb into his truck and a furry blur of orange jumped in before him, that he realized Tay-Tay had slipped out of the trailer when he’d opened the door. “Oh, no, you don’t. You aren’t coming with me.” He went to grab the kitten that was crouched next to the gas petal and received a hiss and a scratch for his trouble. He jerked his hand back and checked for blood. “Maybe you aren’t Satan’s daughter. Maybe you’re Satan himself.”
She sent him a narrow-eyed look before slipping under the bench seat. Since he wasn’t about to blindly put his hand under there, he gave up and climbed in.
“Fine. You want to come along for the ride, come along. You just better not get carsick.”
As soon as they were on the road, the kitten cautiously climbed out from under the seat. She crouched on the floorboard for about a mile before she made the leap to the seat. Another mile and she was digging her claws into his upholstery and scaling the seat like a rock climber. She sat on the back for the rest of the trip into Wilder, her blue eyes staring out at the road.
He had planned on eating barbecue at Bobby Jay’s bar, but he wasn’t about to leave Tay-Tay in his beloved truck unsupervised—he was already upset over the claw holes she’d put in his upholstery. So he decided to try the little taco truck that was parked in front of the town hall.
After he took his first bite of the delectable soft chicken tacos oozing with guacamole and sour cream, he knew he’d made the right choice. He even shared a few chicken shreds with the kitten—tossing them to her rather than losing a finger.
After dinner, he should have headed back to the trailer. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and he was tired. But thoughts of Corbin and the Holidays’ loan had him heading in the opposite direction.
The sun was setting by the time he drove under the grand Austin stone entrance to the Holiday Ranch. The other night when he’d come to Cooper Springs, it had been too dark to see much. Now, he could see the spring wildflowers that bloomed in a profusion of colors on either side of the road. It was beautiful, but the lack of cattle or horses meandering through those flowered fields proved that the ranch had fallen on hard times.
After passing the turnoff for Cooper Springs, Jesse drove another mile and got his first glimpse of the house. The two-story farmhouse was painted a soft green with crisp white shutters and trim. A big ol’ porch covered the entire front of the house, complete with cozy furniture and a swing. Mature trees grew on either side, their new spring leaves matching the green of the house.
Behind the house stood a towering red barn—the kind of barn that would make even a city slicker think of lazy summer days in the country.
Jesse slowed down and came to a stop, his gaze taking in the barn and the house and the porch and the rope swing that hung from a big old oak tree.
One word popped into his head.
Home.
A lump formed in Jesse’s throat. For the first nine years of his life, he’d known what it felt like to be the kid standing out in the cold peering into the glass window of other people’s homes. Homes with loving parents and a safe place to lay your head. Sometimes, he still felt like that kid looking in . . . he still felt like the little boy his own mother couldn’t love.
