7. Nora
CHAPTER 7
Nora
T he nerve of those freaking guys. I think about it the whole way back to my house.
While I agree that it’s probably outrageous to think that Landon tampered with the gas auger, I also wouldn’t necessarily put it past them. I definitely think that sitting me down and essentially shoving a contract down my throat for a lease feels like a dick move. Even if they weren’t behind the malfunctioning tool, they definitely saw an opportunity.
Well. I guess I shouldn’t say ‘they.’ Landon seems like he’s less of a… problem. He strikes me as a true cowboy. There for a good time, not for a long time, kind of thing. I agree with the other one, Shane, that Landon probably didn’t do that shit on purpose.
Shane, however, saw the opportunity. He seems smart. It feels stupid to say, but he reminds me of a CEO or something. If he wasn’t sitting there in Wranglers and a faded pearl-snap button-down, I’d expect him to be in a suit behind a conference table somewhere in a high-rise. That’s what he seems like he’s more suited to.
I pull up at my house, sighing. They’re both insanely handsome guys. Shane’s big. He’s built in ways that Landon isn’t, just taller, broader. The kind of muscles that Kendall and I used to joke were ‘gym muscles,’ but I have a feeling that Shane is just as strong as Landon, who looks wirier, like the cowboys I’m used to. Shane’s broad face, along with his big brown eyes and brown hair, are pretty sexy, though. He kind of reminds me of a bear, in a way.
I snort. Stop turning them into animals, Nora.
I like animals. I don’t like these jerks.
Slamming the door shut, I notice that my dad’s truck is back. Good. Maybe I can get some more information out of him.
I hop onto the porch, opening the door. “Dad, you’ll never believe what happened…”
Once I get inside, I pause. My dad is sitting at the kitchen table with a piece of paper in his hands.
My heart sinks. I walk the rest of the way in, not bothering to hide my approach. I pull up to the kitchen table and look at my father. His eyes look red. Has he been crying?
“Dad,” I say slowly. “What are you reading?”
My dad sighs, putting the letter down. He looks up at me. “Well. Guess there’s no point in hiding this anymore.”
Oh, no… I slide forward, leaning my elbows on the table.
“Dad.” My voice cracks with emotion. “Are you okay?”
He leans back, putting the letter down. “I am. I will be.”
“What does that mean?”
He shuts his eyes. “About a year and a half ago, I went to the doctor because something wasn’t… right.”
My eyes widen. For my dad to voluntarily go see a doctor, it has to be bad. “Okay?”
“He found something.”
“Dad, you have to tell me more. What did he find?” There’s true panic in my voice.
He leans forward and grabs my hand. “I’m really okay, Nora. It’s gone now. They told me I had… prostate cancer,” he mutters. “Had a surgery pretty soon after, and it went away. But I’ve been having to go back in for checkups and stuff, and honestly…” He sighs. “Honestly, Bluebird, I’m just not what I used to be, when it comes to doing stuff around the farm .”
My jaw is practically on the floor. Emotions surge through me. Am I mad that he didn’t tell me he had prostate cancer? Abso-freaking-lutely.
“You didn’t tell me,” I say, my voice quivering with tears.
My dad shakes his head, squeezing my hand. “No. I sure didn’t, Bluebird.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, baby. I just… you were having such a good time at school. I didn’t want you to come rushing home and leave off in the middle of your degree. Didn’t want you to worry about me.”
“Obviously, I would have worried about you! You have cancer!” I can barely see now, my eyes foggy with tears.
“Had, baby. Had cancer,” he says in a low voice. “I’ve been doing real good. All the scans come back negative, or so they tell me, and that’s all… that’s good. It’s real good.”
I take a huge breath, then get up to blow my nose. When I sit back down, I take another deep, sucking breath. “Tell me everything.”
An hour later, I’ve practically cried my eyes out, but at least I know everything.
Dad’s right. According to the document he’s showing me, he’s cancer-free. Not even a scrap in his body, but he still has to go in for routine screenings. The surgery was successful, and I literally had no idea that he had gone in for an actual surgery. The shock of that feels… raw, still. Like a little cut in my chest that just won’t stitch back together.
I drum my fingers on the table and look at him. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I say finally. “But I really wish that you would have told me.”
“I know, Nora.”
“I could have handled it.”
He sighs. “No child should have to ‘handle’ losing both of their parents to illness.”
I shut my eyes. My mom’s sickness was different. She went for a swim and caught some kind of freak bacteria that caused her body to shut down, one organ at a time, in the span of forty-eight hours .
When I open my eyes again, I really look at my dad. What I see makes my chest squeeze, and that little wound opens all over again.
I have always seen my dad as someone infallible. Larger-than-life, more than human. He’s the strongest, best, kindest, and most awesome man in the world. He still is.
But as my eyes really look at him, I see things that I might have missed. The way that his hair, once a light, sandy blonde, is getting lighter, and it’s almost silver. The deep grooves in the side of his face. The way he puts his hand out, and the skin looks… thinner, somehow. Like an old man’s.
He leans forward, his chin tucked, and I really see it then. My dad is getting older.
He’s not ancient, by any means. I think he turns fifty-five soon. But fifty-five years of ranching is… It’s a hard life.
I reach across the table to take his hand, and he squeezes mine.
“I’m sorry, Nora,” he whispers. “I love you. I thought I was making a choice that was good for us.”
“I love you too, Daddy,” I say, my voice sounding alarmingly like a little girl’s. “How about this: no more secrets. We tell each other everything, because I can’t have another shock like this.”
He laughs, releasing my hand. “Deal.”
“So. The paper you were holding earlier?”
My dad grimaces. “The hospital bill.”
Oh. Shit.
“Let me see.” I hold out my hand. My dad looks at me, then at the paper, hesitating. “No more secrets, Dad. We’re in this together. We’re going to figure it out together. Whatever we do, we do it together. Got it?”
He sighs, finally handing over the paper. “No more secrets, Bluebird.”
My eyes scan the paper. With each line, my heart sinks.
All things considered? It could be worse. I’ve heard of hospital bills running into the millions. This one isn’t that high. But given that we don’t have a lot of money right now, the number of zeroes on that page is very, very alarming.
I put the paper down. “Okay. It’s not good. ”
“No, Bluebird. It’s not.”
“But I think that it’s doable.”
My dad raises an eyebrow. “How?”
I shut my eyes, grimacing. “I think it’s time that I tell you something, too.”
Patiently, I relate the story about the grassfire and the auger. After I get to the part where I went over to the Wild Spur to yell at them, my dad is equal parts horrified and impressed. “Nora. You can’t just run over to our neighbor’s property and get into a fight with them!”
“I can if I think they’re being total jerks,” I say with a little frown.
“I don’t like those damn cowboys,” my dad growls.
That makes two of us. “Yeah. I know. And I don’t like them, either. But Dad… they’re running a pretty profitable business.”
He seems to deflate at the reminder. “I know.”
This is the part that’s going to suck. “They… have a lease agreement.”
His head snaps back up. “What?”
“A lease agreement. They have one that they say they’ve used with some other ranches. Closer to Bozeman,” I elaborate.
He frowns. “I don’t think I’ve heard of them leasing other places.”
“We’re not close to Bozeman. Not close enough to know for sure,” I add.
He nods. “True. Still. I can ask about it when I’m in town next.”
“You do that. All the same, they… offered me a lease.”
“What?”
“To lease some of our land from us in order to raise more horses.”
“How many more?”
I shrug. “A lot.”
Seven hundred is more than a lot—it’s an astronomical amount. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re supplying all the horses to the tourist traps in Wyoming and Idaho at this rate, as long as they had the permits for the respective states.
“And they want to lease land… from us?”
I nod.
“What did the contract say? ”
My cheeks burn a little. “I don’t know. I kind of stormed out after they offered it to me.”
I expect my dad to be a little grumpy, but instead, he whistles and shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “Damn, Bluebird. You’re really making them work for it.”
“I thought they’d tried to set my auger on fire!”
He laughs. “Nora, that old thing was about a stiff breeze away from falling apart. I should have looked at it before you left.” His smile dies. We both know the reason he didn’t, the reason that a lot of the little chores are going incomplete around here, is his cancer… and recovery.
He’s not sick anymore. He’s recovering.
Still, it likely means that he is going to be pretty slow to help with things around the ranch. I wonder if the lease will involve some kind of labor arrangement… Typically, the one doing the leasing provides their own labor.
Hopefully, they know that.
“It’s okay, Dad,” I reassure him. “I can figure out how to do a lot of the little stuff around here. But the lease…”
“If you figure out how much it’s for, then we can make a decision,” he says firmly.
“Okay. I can do that.” My stomach clenches.
If they’ll even offer me the lease again, since I flew out of there like a bat out of hell .
“I’ll head over first thing tomorrow morning,” I tell him.
My dad nods. “Sounds good, Bluebird.”
“Tonight, how about we make some microwave dinners and watch a show?” I smile.
He smiles back. “Sounds perfect.”
We stand to leave the kitchen. Before I do, though, I take one last look at the hospital bill on the table.
It is a lot of zeroes. It’s a bill that needs to get paid, because it’s going to matter. It’s going to matter a lot.
I only hope the option for the lease is still on the table. Because if not, selling the ranch moves from the impossible to possible pretty damn fast.
Bright and early, I’m driving up to the Wild Spur. If these assholes are any type of cowboys worth their salt, they’ll be awake. If not, I’m more than happy to wake them up.
Their porch doesn’t creak. I find that annoying, somehow. Of course it doesn’t. They’re three strapping cowboys who can fix it.
Strapping?
I shake myself. My mind is clearly still stuck on my dad’s cancer announcement and cannot be trusted at the moment. Clearly.
I knock on the door.
“Hello!” I shout, pounding on the outside. Their big front picture window is open, cracked at the bottom, so I’m sure that they can hear me. “Is anyone in here?”
“Who the fuck—” The voice cuts off, and I hear rustling. There’s grunting and what sounds like a table being knocked over.
“Move, motherfucker,” I hear Landon’s deep voice.
It sucks that he has that voice, honestly. A man who looks like that shouldn’t be allowed to have a sexy, sonorous voice, too. A moment later, the door opens, and I see Landon’s bright smile.
“Well, if it isn’t our hellcat neighbor. Good morning, darlin’,” he drawls. “What can we do you for?”
I push past him, stomping into their house.
“You,” I point to Shane. I realize, all too late, that he doesn’t have a shirt on.
My eyes go wide. Holy heck. I was right. Without a shirt on, Shane is an absolute work of art. He’s definitely got gym muscles, but they go for days, and I have the strongest urge to feel how firm they are…
“Can we help you, woman?” a voice growls.
I look from Shane to the corner. The third one is standing there. He has on dirty jeans, and he’s tugging a dusty Coors t-shirt over his head. I don’t get to see his abs, which is a shame, because his body…
“Take a picture,” he barks. “It’ll last longer.”
“Wow. You are as unpleasant as I remember.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Clint’s just grumpy before he’s had coffee,” Landon says.
Clint shoots him a glare, which leads me to believe that Clint is just grumpy all the time.
I turn back to Shane. “Show me the lease.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says primly.
“The. Freaking. Lease,” I snap. “Show it to me.”
“I can give you a hard copy,” Landon says from behind me. “So much better than that weird, eggheaded tech shit that Shane has…”
I spin and snatch the document out of his hands. I stomp back out onto the porch, settling on their front step before I flip the document open. I start reading.
Behind me, I can hear their voices as they murmur to each other. Landon’s musical rumble, Shane’s low voice. The occasional bark that sounds like Clint.
I really shouldn’t be shocked by the fact that two out of the three of them were shirtless. Really. It’s early in the morning, and men basically never wear clothes…
Focus.
I sigh, turning my attention back to the document. The more I read, the more I realize there’s no way this is a regular lease. When I’m done, my chest burning, I stand. I stomp back into the house, not bothering to knock this time.
All three men are sitting at the table. Three cups of coffee sit in front of them.
For a minute, I stop in my tracks. Two of those cups look like lattes. Do they have a freaking latte machine? My eyes slide to the countertop, and sure enough, there’s a shiny, expensive espresso machine there.
Fake cowboys.
“Have a seat,” Shane says, pulling up a fourth chair.
I sit. I smack the lease down on the table. “This is garbage.”
“It’s a standard lease for us,” he says with a raised eyebrow.
“If someone signs this without fighting it, they’re dumb as rocks,” I say back to him. “You essentially put in a lease-to-own stipulation at the end. I’m not signing it.”
I’m angry and disappointed. The hope I had coming in here is fading. I wanted to give them a piece of my mind on my way out, but I can’t sign this. I stand to go, but Shane grabs my wrist. “You want to negotiate it?”
“Hell yes. This is garbage,” I say, ripping my wrist out of his hand.
“Negotiate.” The one-word command sends a shiver up my spine.
Meeting Shane’s eyes, I sit down. “I’ll accept your bullshit labor clause. At market rate, which I will set with the better business bureau.”
“Noted. Fair,” Shane agrees.
My eyes narrow. “But the whole lease to own thing? Garbage. If I end up owing you money at the end, I’ll pay you what you’re owed.”
“You will?”
I nod sharply. I don’t intend to let them put anything other than the cost of working the horses into the land. I’ll fix everything else myself if I have to. “And, if you want to make a repair or anything, you tell me first. I’m not having you just run up labor costs on random shit.”
Shane lifts an eyebrow. “Fine. I can do that. But, if you do end up selling the ranch?—”
“We won’t,” I cut him off.
He nods. “If you do, then we get the first right to a sale.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“Oh, I can. You can write anything into a contract you want to. As long as both parties are… willing,” he says.
The way his voice lingers on that word makes the hair on my arms stand up. And more importantly, it makes me acutely aware of the fact that it’s been a while since I got laid.
I shake off my shocking amount of arousal.
“Fine,” I bite. I look at the other two. “Get a pen.”
Landon rises, grabbing one out of a drawer, while Clint glares at me. I glare right back.
With the pen in hand, I turn to Shane. “Make the revisions.”
“Here?”
I nod. He makes some scribbles, crossing some things out. He hands it over to me, and I look through it. True to what I asked for, the changes were made. Including the one that says that if we sell the ranch, the Wild Spur gets to put in the first offer.
I reread the contract, combing through it, making sure I didn’t miss anything. Finally, there’s nothing I can do except one last thing .
I don’t want to do this. However, there’s a sliver of hope here. I can control for some of these things. They want to charge me for labor to fix equipment and shit? They’re going to find everything fixed. Everything running in top shape.
With a sigh, I sign my name. I look at the three cowboys.
“You start tomorrow.”