she suggested.
“You’re a workaholic. You don’t take a break. I don’t think you even stopped to take a breath after you gave birth.” Births and deaths were very big events in a town the size of Forever. Each were duly noted and remembered by one and all.
“Oh, no, I stopped,” Olivia assured him with feeling. “Trust me, having a child is a pretty life-altering event. You have to stop whatever else you’re doing in order to absorb the full impact.”
“I wouldn’t know firsthand, but I’m not about to dispute that,” he told her. He nodded at her glass and asked, “Can I get you anything else?”
Slight confusion creased her brow. “I thought that you and Miss Joan had an agreement. She doesn’t serve any alcoholic beverages, and you don’t serve any food.”
“We do and I don’t,” he confirmed. “But I’ve got several kinds of nuts to offer my customers.” Then, by way of an explanation in case, as a lawyer, she viewed that as a deal breaker, he said, “I don’t think anyone really considers nuts to be food.”
“Don’t tell that to the squirrels,” she commented, then smiled. “I’m fine,” she assured him before adding, “No nuts. Thanks.”
Brett shrugged as he returned to restocking the bar. “Don’t mention it. Any time I can not get you something, just let me know.”
Olivia remained silent for a few minutes, as if waiting. She smiled at Brett when he turned around again to pick up another bottle of alcohol.
“You’re not going to ask, are you?” she marveled. “You have an amazing lack of curiosity. Either that, or you have remarkable restraint.”
“It’s not that,” Brett replied. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned on the other side of this bar, it’s that if someone has something to say, you give them enough time, they’ll tell you—if only to get it off their chest. All I have to do is wait—and if there’s one thing I’ve gotten really good at, it’s waiting.”
Olivia bided her time until he’d set down the two bottles of vodka in his hands before telling him, “That’s not the only thing you’re good at, apparently.”
“Okay, now I’m curious,” Brett admitted. “That comment’s going to need some explaining.”
Olivia leaned slightly over the bar, her body language calling for his undivided attention even though they were the only two people in the bar. “Do you remember Earl Robertson?”
He thought for a moment—not because he couldn’t put a face to the name, but because he was trying to remember the last time he’d seen the man who had been a friend of his father’s. It had to have been at least three years since the man left town. Maybe more.
“Sure, I remember Earl. He took off to live in Taos, New Mexico. Said he always wanted to see that part of the country.”
He didn’t add that he had tried to persuade the man to stay. Earl had been getting on in years, and as far as he could tell, the man had no friends or family in Taos. No one to look out for him. But to suggest that would have meant wounding the man’s pride, and that was something he hadn’t been willing to do. For some men, pride was all they had. That was the case with Earl.
“What’s he doing these days?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“Not much of anything,” Olivia replied. “Earl Robertson died last week.”
The words hit harder than he’d expected. The man wasn’t family, but at this point, Earl was the closest thing to family he and his brothers still had. He felt he owed the old man a lot.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good guy,” Brett said after a beat.
“Apparently,” Olivia went on, “Mr. Robertson thought the same thing about you.” Brett looked at her, not sure what to expect as she continued. “He was grateful that you came to look in on him when he was sick that last time.”
Brett wasn’t much for taking credit for things. He preferred being perceived as a laid-back, carefree man rather than the nurturing person he actually was.
He shrugged off Olivia’s words, saying, “Hey, he didn’t have anybody, and he’d been there to help out when my parents died in that car accident. I think Uncle Patrick would have been completely at a loss as to what to do about the funeral and—to be honest—us, if it hadn’t been for Earl.
“And then when Uncle Patrick passed on,” he recalled, “Earl was there to make sure that my brothers and I were okay. He told me that if there was ever anything that I needed, to be sure to come to him. I was just sixteen and determined to look after Finn and Liam. I don’t have to tell you that I was pretty damn grateful that there was someone to catch me if I fell.” He shrugged as if his own actions were no big deal. “I was just trying to pay him back a little.”
Olivia nodded. Brett’s summary was in keeping with what she knew. “Well, Mr. Robertson apparently remembered that.”
There was something in the lawyer’s tone that caught his attention. “Where’s this going, Olivia?”
Olivia smiled, obviously happy to be the bearer of good news. “It seems that Earl Robertson left his ranch to you.”
Brett stared at her. Although Forever was surrounded by ranches, the thought of him owning one had never crossed his mind. He knew that Earl had the ranch, but he’d never wondered who it would go to if the man didn’t return from New Mexico.
“You’re kidding,” he all but whispered, somewhat stunned by the news.
“Not during office hours,” Olivia replied with an exceptionally straight face.
Numb, he asked, “Did Earl say what he wanted me to do with it?”
Olivia finished the last of her ginger ale, placed the empty glass on the bar and then said, “Anything you want would be my guess. Looks like you’re finally a cowboy, Brett.”
He thought about the plot of land that had belonged to Earl. As far as he knew, it hadn’t been worked since the man had left. For that matter, it hadn’t really been worked for a year before that, either. That was about the time when the man’s health had begun to take a turn for the worse. He did recall that during the man’s final days in Forever, Earl had him sell off his stock. After Earl left for Taos, the place remained abandoned.
What the hell was he supposed to do with an abandoned ranch? Brett wondered.
“You sure about this?” he asked Olivia. “I’ve got enough on my hands just running this place.” Then, in the next breath, he asked, “Can I sell it?”
“Sure. You can do anything you want with it,” she reminded him. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t sell it just yet. You might want to consider doing something with the spread down the line. After all, you and your brothers take turns running the bar. Can’t see why you can’t do the same thing with the ranch. Maybe turn it back into a working spread again. Rick told me that’s what it was before Earl got sick.”
Brett laughed shortly. “What the hell do I know about running a ranch?” he asked her.
“I
