you to know I’m heading out. I should be there in an hour.”
“Thanks, kid. See you then.”
He hung up and headed for the shower. Instead of lounging around in his sweats, crunching numbers and trying to figure out how to get his ranch away from Miranda, he’d grill a steak for his sister and maybe whip some instant mashed potatoes. He was spending too much time plotting against the bitch. It really was starting to wear.
Taylor had told him to sell the ranch.
The thought killed him.
But trying to figure out a way to hold on to it and regain control was almost as brutal. He’d crossed Miranda, and she was going to make him pay. And pay. Any thoughts of a peaceful settlement had gone out the window when she’d tried to buy Jancey’s part of the property without discussing the matter with him. She’d actually tried to pit sister against brother, which was sick, especially when they were the only members left of their immediate family.
But if he sold, after he got over the anguish of having let Miranda win once and for all…of having lost the family ranch to the woman who’d tried to ruin both him and Jancey…he could start fresh.
A fresh start sounded good. Really good.
Could he let go? Did letting Miranda win make him a coward?
The working-ranch part of the vacation packages was becoming more and more popular. The accountant’s report, which put Miranda in the clear as far as her fiscal honesty went—damn it all—supported that. If he sold—to anyone but her, because there was no way he was doing that—she’d lose those packages, because she lost access to the property if it sold. There was no transfer of usage.
Cole stopped drying off and studied his reflection, a thoughtful frown drawing his eyebrows together. He lost. She lost.
When Jancey came home that evening, he broached the subject. “What if we sold the ranch?”
“To Miranda? No way.” She picked up her steak knife and started sawing on the T-bone.
“Not to Miranda.”
She put down the knife. “Then to who?”
“Anyone. Just to keep it out of Miranda’s hands, and to keep her from having use of the property.”
Jancey’s mouth opened. Closed again. Then she shook her head. “I don’t want to sell.”
“It would hurt Miranda’s pocketbook.”
“For a while.” She set down her fork and gave Cole a pleading look. “The land is all we have that’s from our family. It’s our heritage.”
“Which makes us miserable.”
“No. She makes us miserable.” She cocked her head at him. “Is this so that you can go after Taylor?”
“Go after?”
“She’s not coming back.” Before Cole could reply, Jancey went on. “She says it’s important to be independent. Then you can control your life.”
“Which is how she ended up here on the farm, living in a ramshackle building.”
Jancey nodded. “Good point.”
“I care for Taylor,” he said simply. It was ridiculous to pretend he didn’t. Not when he had this many sleepless nights under his belt.
“But not enough to go after her?”
“I think I have to wait until she’s ready to find a middle ground.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Jancey asked softly.
“That’s the million-dollar question.”
And he was half-afraid of the answer. Had the city reclaimed her? Was she once again working megahour weeks and not taking care of herself? Worse yet, had she met a guy? A city guy? One she had a lot in common with?
Those were the questions that kept him up at night. The questions that had him very, very close to giving up his harvest and heading to Seattle to see if he could claim what he knew in his soul was his.
* * *
IT WAS FUNNY how the life Taylor had so carefully crafted prior to getting laid off from Stratford now felt oddly empty. The aftermath of Cole.
She loved Seattle, was glad to be back…but it didn’t feel the same. And she almost felt angry about it—as if she’d made a pact with herself, then fallen short of fulfilling it. She was back. She was supposed to love it. She wasn’t supposed to wonder if Cole had turned the bunkhouse into a grain bin as he’d once threatened. Or if the rabbits under the floorboards had litters of little rabbits. Or if Chucky had eaten Cole’s other boot.
She shouldn’t be wondering how Jancey was enjoying college. Or missing the girl as much as she did.
Life went on.
And on.
A guy at her firm was hitting on her. He was attractive and personable and when she’d looked him up, she couldn’t find anything about him that wasn’t admirable. But just like her life in Seattle, something was missing.
He wasn’t Cole.
She didn’t know why she finally settled on her sofa and dialed her mother’s number, other than the fact that they hadn’t talked since she’d first returned to Seattle. Maybe she needed to hear someone tell her again how lucky she was to escape that rural hell.
The phone rang twice and then Jess answered in his almost too-quiet voice.
“Hi, Jess. Taylor. Is my mom there?”
“She’s marketing.”
“Oh. Well, tell her…” The words trailed off as she realized she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to tell her other than that she’d called. “Jess?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer.”
“Sure.”
“How much did you give up to be with my mom?”
“I don’t quite follow. I really didn’t have anything.”
“Not material things…how much of yourself? Your goals and the plans you’d made for your future.”
“I gave up nothing.”
Taylor waited a beat, and when the phone remained silent, she said, “Are you living the life you would have lived without her?”
“No. This is different.”
Different. Not worse. Different.
“I changed my goals when I met your mom. They’re still my goals.” He spoke in a musing way, making Taylor think that he’d
