of money, I believe it was with good intentions. Not an excuse, Mr. Simpson,” she added sternly.
Glen lowered his chin. “You are so right, ma’am.”
“Ms. Simpson, your willingness to help your grandfather is admirable but, twenty-five hundred dollars isn’t going to cut it.”
Heidi swallowed. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Stryker, you’re a businessman who signed a contract without reading it. You deserve what you get.”
Heidi saw Rafe’s jaw muscle clench, but he didn’t speak.
“Mrs. Stryker, you seem the most injured party here, yet you’re the one who counsels forgiveness and compromise. You have given my somewhat cynical spirit a good dose of hope. I admire you and will therefore consider the merits of this case from your point of view.”
Heidi wasn’t sure what that meant, but wondered if it was possible they weren’t going to lose everything.
“The easiest answer is to put Mr. Simpson in jail, order him to stand trial, or plead out and be done with it. For you, Mrs. Stryker, I’m willing to consider other options. I would like to do some research on precedence for a case like this. Unfortunately, my schedule is fully booked right now, and my law clerk is getting married next week and then going on her honeymoon. So she isn’t available, either.”
The judge considered for a moment. “There is also the matter of the bank loan. Would they be willing to transfer the note to Mrs. Stryker and her son? While I doubt that would be a problem, they do need to be consulted. As you are all aware, banks can be notoriously slow in responding to this kind of thing.”
She paused, then smiled slightly. “All right, Mrs. Stryker, you shall have your compromise. You and your son will share the property with Ms. Simpson and her grandfather. You will in essence co-own it, at least for now. We will continue to work from our end, speaking with the bank and researching the case. In the meantime, Ms. Simpson, I suggest you do all you can to raise the money owed Mrs. Stryker. Legally, of course.”
Heidi felt as if she’d just fallen through a rabbit hole. Share the ranch? The four of them? It was better than losing everything, but how was it supposed to work?
She was aware of May beaming at Glen, and of Rafe, who whispered furiously to his attorney.
“Your Honor?” May raised her hand.
“Yes?”
“If Heidi and I agree, is it all right to make improvements to the property? The barn needs fixing and the fences are in terrible shape.”
“I remind you, I have not reached a final decision. It is possible you could lose the ranch completely, Mrs. Stryker. Please remember that. But if you and Ms. Simpson agree to the improvement, and you accept there will be no compensation should you lose this proceeding, then go ahead. I will call the concerned parties back when I’m ready to rule. Brace yourself, people. It could be a while.”
Heidi was still reeling from the sudden, if temporary, reprieve. She stood, as instructed, then swayed slightly, feeling as if she’d just avoided being smashed by a speeding train.
“This is good, right?” she asked Trisha.
“It’s better than Glen standing trial.” She smiled at the older man. “Not that I don’t adore you, hon, but your bony ass would so be going to prison. Two hundred and fifty grand is miles into felony territory.” She turned to Heidi. “Make it work with May. Figure out a compromise, be nice and, for heaven’s sake, start putting away money. If you can’t come up with a solution on your own, then showing you’ve made significant progress in paying back the money will help.”
“Okay,” Heidi murmured, aware that Rafe continued to have a heated conversation with his lawyer. He shot several angry glances in her general direction. May, she decided, wasn’t going to be a problem. If only the same could said about her son.
Trisha leaned close. “Remember what I told you yesterday,” she whispered. “Sex can fix a lot of sticky situations.”
Heidi took in Rafe’s well-tailored suit and expensive shoes. Even if she ignored them, there was still the man himself. Everything about him screamed stubborn and arrogant. Sure he was handsome, and it would be easy to get lost in his dark eyes, but she had a feeling falling under his spell would be a lot like a rabbit getting mesmerized by a cobra. It all seemed like great fun until the fangs sank in.
“Rafe Stryker isn’t the type to be seduced into anything.”
“All men are the type. Trust me.”
“Then I’m not the type,” Heidi admitted. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Sex wasn’t supposed to be about power; it was supposed to be about love. Or at least caring and attraction.
“Just think about it,” Trisha advised her. “The right woman can bring down an empire.”
Which sounded great, but wasn’t what Heidi was interested in doing. She only wanted to keep her grandfather out of jail while hanging on to her home and her goats. Modest dreams that wouldn’t impress anyone but were the world to her.
Still, desperate times and all that. She looked at Rafe, taking in the broad shoulders and surprisingly sensual mouth. Could she do it? Could she seduce a man like him? Make him forget that he was supposed to destroy her?
She imagined herself in something slinky, with heels, and her hair loose and curly, blowing back from the wind of an invisible fan. Like in the movies, she thought. Only instead of making a smooth entrance, she would probably get her feet tangled up in the hem of her outfit and sprawl face first onto the floor. Oh, yeah. Talk about impressive.
The picture was so clear that she grinned, then happened to look toward the man in question. Only he didn’t look amused. There was determination in his dark gaze. A steely set to his body, which warned her that he wasn’t playing and if she really thought she could get between him and what he wanted, she was going to regret it. The room seemed to get a little chilly and she folded her arms across her chest.
“Heidi?”
May had approached. “I meant what I said,” the other woman told her. “About us working it out. I know Glen wasn’t trying to hurt me. He wanted to help a friend.”
Heidi wondered if she had it in her to be as generous, were their situations reversed.
“I appreciate that. He’s not a bad man. A little impulsive sometimes.”
May smiled, her dark eyes bright with humor. “Sometimes an excellent quality.”
“As long as you don’t need a lawyer at the end of the day.”
“Exactly.”
May was a pretty woman with lines around her eyes. She was about Heidi’s height, rounder and with quality clothes that flattered her curves. Heidi tugged at the sleeves of the only “nice” dress she owned. A sedate knee-length, three-quarter-sleeved navy knit that could be worn to business meetings or a funeral with equal ease. She’d found it in a thrift store in Albuquerque about five years ago, along with matching conservative pumps.
“We’ll
