Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
CALDER
Bowen rocks forward in his rickety chair. “When are the loans due?”
We’re sitting in the office at the brewery.
This morning was like yesterday. We did chores.
Cleaned up. Came to look at the books. Landry’s staying at a hotel in Williston, but he joined us at the brewery wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday.
Meredith was gone from the house before I returned from chores. I didn’t go to her room last night.
“The payments are automatic.” I poke at the screen of my computer.
Bowen had everything transferred from the old laptop to a cloud account, and now I’m basically functioning as a forensic accountant, sifting through decades of financial disorder.
Dad was robbing Peter to pay Paul. Transfers back and forth from his personal account, the ranch, and the loans fill the ledgers.
Nothing was untouched—savings, investments, retirement—until every cent was drained.
“There’s one due next week.” I hit a few buttons and pull up the bank account with the loan information.
Landry stands in the doorway, working on his phone. We’ve all left companies hanging while we deal with this, so if he’s gotta work when he can, I don’t care. As long as he’s here to add his two cents instead of waiting days to weeks for a reply.
“How is it so high?” Bowen rocks back. “Shit.”
“Interest.” I pull up another spreadsheet.
“Bea sent me this. It’s a list of pending orders she put in that we’re on the hook for.
Nothing out of the ordinary.” I click on the bank account.
“But here’s what’s coming in. The past week was a good week, but what we earned doesn’t cover standard operating costs.
The money for the loans is what’s breaking the place. ”
A never-ending cycle. Perpetual debt. Instead of making tough decisions like limiting taproom hours, closing it altogether, and concentrating on expanding distribution, Dad kept extending lines of credit.
I unearthed more than a few emails warning him supply deliveries would be cut off if he was late on payment one more time.
If he wasn’t doing so much local business, the doors would’ve been shut years ago.
But he had a good reputation, and he milked it, eventually paying.
Bowen tips his head back and lets out a frustrated breath. “He’s used everything for collateral.”
Glad I’m not the only one in on the discovery of how bad this is, I nod. “Even that car he crashed.”
He props an arm on the armrest and sinks his chin into his hand, drumming the fingers of his other hand on his thigh. “Meredith had to know. Maybe not about the ranch, but Uncle Carlos would’ve said something.”
“He knew it was rough, but he only kept cattle records and made orders. Dad controlled the books there, too, and Uncle Carlos didn’t see everything. Meredith’s surprise was genuine.”
“You’re not exactly objective.”
Anger simmers low in my chest. He’s holding Meredith against me, but I’ve been in business for two decades. I know when someone’s lying about money.
“She says she suspected there were some issues, but when she asked Dad, he told her to butt out. You know how he could be.”
“With us,” he says bitterly. “Not her.”
“We weren’t here to know, and he’d never want to look like he was struggling in front of a young woman.”
Bowen’s scrutiny intensifies. “Seems Meredith’s got you on her side.”
My right eye twitches. We’re discussing financials. Those conversations shouldn’t get emotional, but defensiveness heats the back of my neck. “I’m here to deal with Dad’s estate, and she’s part of it. Thinking she was sabotaging Dad doesn’t help the issue.”
“We’d be foolish not to consider that she could’ve,” Bowen says, “and since she and Sawyer are so tight, we need to assess that angle too. Because part of the tank is the mass of debt Sawyer claims she’s working off.”
I work my jaw back and forth. “He paid for her school. Apparently, they had some arrangement.”
“One that really only benefits her,” Bowen points out, “because it’s going to take decades to pay that shit off at the rate she’s going. An hour here and there isn’t helping. Was she waiting him out?”
I don’t care if she was or not. “We have enough to deal with. The Sawyer issue will wash out when we can sell.”
“She knew.” Bowen’s jaw flexes so hard it could crack a molar. “Out of all of them, she knew how bad it was getting.”
My curiosity is stronger than my desire to drop the damn subject. “Why do you think that?”
Bowen ticks a finger up. “Sawyer’s not an idiot.
” He adds another finger. “She knows cattle prices, and she knows how many heads they’re selling.
” He’s got three fingers in the air now.
“Likewise, even without seeing the books, because of her job and hearing ranchers talk all day, she obviously knows the cost of fuel, feed, and supplies. She might not know how much Carlos is getting paid, but she knows how much she’s earning, and how many head are going to auction.
A little bit of addition and subtraction and she knows how bad it’s getting at the ranch, and she would’ve shared with her bestie.
” He looks at his hand and frowns like he lost count.
He wiggles his fingers. “You can’t tell me it’s not the same here. Meredith would’ve known.”
I should’ve known too. Why else would Dad reach out? We were his last chance to save it all, and if the accident hadn’t happened, maybe he’d have gotten around to asking us for help.
“Knowing is different than having the power to do anything.”
Bowen makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “She should’ve pushed harder.”
My patience reaches the end of its rope. “She was too busy brewing the product that’s keeping everything afloat and doing it nearly by herself.”
Landry remains in the doorway like a sentinel. He slips his phone in his pocket. “You’re not convincing us you’re not falling all in with Meredith.”
Christ. She’s downstairs. If we talk any louder, she’ll hear every word.
I’m not ready to face her. My head’s not right.
Between the memory of her breathy moans and the fallout from the will reading, it’s like I’m tied to two horses and they’re going in different directions.
From the glimpses I got of her today, she was still pale.
Listless. But she’s downstairs toiling away to keep these doors open.
“I’ve always supported you two. You know that.”
“Holding the fact you let me live off you for a couple of years over my head is a very Dad thing to do,” Landry retorts. “You act like you forget that I was able to land some modeling contracts and finish school my damn self. I appreciate all you did for me, but I don’t owe you.”
I clamp my teeth together, and Bowen bows his head. He needed the most help from me, and it’s probably why he answers my calls. Once Landry made his own money, he made sure no one had a hold on him again.
“Supporting each other is what family’s supposed to do.
” I don’t want to lose my youngest brother to bitterness.
He might already be gone, but I have to appeal to those emotions he doesn’t seem to delve into often.
“Besides, Meredith was right. Dad probably made sure she knew how much she owed him.”
Landry’s mouth twists. Good. He has a conscience.
“He might’ve been subtle,” I continue, “because she’s a girl, or she was younger, or because her sister was still around to defend her.
Hell, maybe she didn’t even see it.” It was Dad’s way or the highway, but he could be charming too.
Charismatic. He was definitely used to getting his own way.
“All I’m saying is, much as you want to consider that she knew or contributed to the financial issues, you need to consider that she was in the dark.
That Sawyer was in the dark. Carlos too. ”
They need to consider that Meredith’s heart is as big as her loyalty.
If they’d seen her working like a dog for the past week, they’d realize I’m not off base.
I’ve watched her. I’ve studied her. And then I kissed her.
I would’ve fucked her on that stool, too, if Bowen hadn’t walked in.
But it wasn’t because she was manipulating me. All this would be easier if she were.
Other than strategic business planning, plenty of sacrifices, and savvy marketing, there is one clear-cut solution. They’ll hate it.
“I’m only bringing this up to get it out of the way. We could take care of this. Between the three of us, we could settle the debts.”
Landry’s eyes narrow. “No.”
“Why should I turn over one cent?” Bowen scrubs his hands down his face.
“Neither of these businesses were meant for me. I always knew I’d be working under one of you, going along with whatever you wanted.
But life gave us lemons, and I brewed my lemonade in electronics.
I’m my own boss now, and I happen to like my career. ”
His cybersecurity corporate training company profits eight figures a year. He may wear a suit, but his employees can wear pajamas to work, if they even have to go into the office. People rely on Bowen for their livelihood. He won’t risk them for some property.
Landry clears his throat. “Say we infuse the bottom line with our hard-earned cash. How will that work? Do we own more of the shares? Does the pie split into three larger pieces and one smaller one?”
“You want to throw money at it?” I ask.
Landry shrugs, his face expressionless. “Yes. Someone else can run all this shit, we pump money in, hire someone the three of us trust to manage it, and then we go back to our lives.”
“Still has to be unanimous,” Bowen says, “no matter how much time and money each of us puts in.”
Landry leans on the doorframe and crosses his arms—a pose he used to get paid good money for. “Then we all put in to save the ranch and Jules Creek. All four of us. Equally, or we don’t do it.”
I knew they’d shoot down the option before I said it, but disappointment still courses through me. “She doesn’t have that much.”
“How’d you know?” Bowen asks. “Been in more than her bed?”
My brothers can be absolute dicks. “Fuck off. She’s not the villain here.”
“She doesn’t have to be,” Bowen says more carefully than I expect him to. “Yet she’s not cooperating with us while she has no other means to help.”
We aren’t exactly working with her either, and shame on us for not considering how much we’d have to consider her in all this. “She’s downstairs working her ass off, packaging products that go out Monday, so we can sell some shit and get paid. Last I checked, brewers don’t earn what we do.”
Landry levels me with a challenging stare. “Your girlfriend can start her own brewery with the proceeds of the sale.”
I suck in a measured breath. He’s trying to dig under my skin. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s not anything to me.”
The wrongness of what I said hits me just as a squeak sounds from behind Landry. He spins around, shock scrawled across his face. Bowen cringes.
Meredith.