expectations, but when the occasional pleasant surprise came his way, he was grateful to be able to experience it.
Leonor looked at the rancher. To her way of thinking, there had never been a choice. It was a matter of doing the right thing, or not being able to live with her conscience if she had chosen to close her eyes and just walk away.
“Yes, I did,” she told him quietly.
“Okay,” Thorne conceded. “I take back everything I just said to you,” he told Leonor. “You didn’t sell us out. But what are we going to do about this character who sold the info to the blog?”
“You ignore him,” Mac said, addressing his words to both of them, just in case his son was getting Leonor all fired up about the man again. He wanted her to let go of her anger over this—permanently.
Thorne was not keen on his father’s input.
“That doesn’t seem right after what they wrote,” Thorne protested.
Mac shook his head. His son was missing the point here. “You go after him in any way, even if it’s just to carry on an online war, and all you’ve done is succeeded in getting more people to pay attention to this jackass’s blog. If you want a story to die, the way you kill it is ignore it until it eventually runs out of fuel and burns itself out.”
“What if it doesn’t burn itself out?” Thorne challenged.
Mac was unwavering in his response. “It will. All things die eventually. Yesterday’s news is just that, yesterday’s news. Unless, like a scab, you keep scratching at it and making it bleed. Then somebody pays attention to it.”
Leonor shivered. “A bleeding scab. Not exactly the most appealing image,” she said.
“Maybe not,” Mac agreed. “But that doesn’t make it any less accurate.” And then he took a deep breath, his barrel chest expanding impressively. He considered this topic to be over. “I just bought two new stallions and they were delivered this morning.” He looked from Leonor to his son. “You two up for a trip to the stable to meet the new arrivals?”
She’d always loved horses. It was the best part of her childhood. She couldn’t think of anything she would have liked better than to see the stallions that Mac had purchased.
“Count me in,” she told Mac.
Thorne paused. The fire had settled down in his veins. “Yeah, me, too,” Thorne said.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mac wanted to know. He crossed to the front door, beckoning them to follow him. “Let’s go!”
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