Chapter Three Savannah #2
I lean closer, my chest tight.
“The entirety of Red Rock Ranch, including all equipment, buildings, livestock, land, and water rights.”
My jaw drops for the second time today. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“She left you the ranch, Savannah,” Kent repeats. “All of it.”
Nash’s hands slam on the table, and he shoots up out of his chair. “What the fuck? She left you the damn ranch? I’ve been working here this whole time, and she trusted you over me with Red Rock?”
I shake my head. “There must be some kind of mistake. You heard Nash before. He knows everything there is to know about Red Rock. I can’t run the ranch. I don’t even know what a BLM is. I don’t know anything about the place!”
Panic grips me at Kent’s revelation.
I mean, what?
And how?
Nash takes off his hat again, tosses it onto the table, and then fists the sides of his head.
“I gave up everything for Red Rock. You haven’t done shit for the place.
Hell, you didn’t even make time to visit because you were too busy with your perfect little life.
You don’t deserve it.” His voice rises, reverberating between my ears.
How could she possibly think this would be a good idea? Leaving me to run her beloved ranch? Taking everything Nash loved and lived for away from him?
“I really don’t understand,” I say, keeping a nervous eye on my raging brother. “Aunt Marg would never take the ranch away from Nash. It’s our family’s legacy, and she knows he would move mountains to keep it running and profitable. She’d have never trusted me to do that kind of—”
Kent holds up a hand. “Hold that thought because there is something else, Savannah. A condition that Margaret included.”
“What kind of condition?” I whisper.
Kent looks down at the document. “The ranch and all of its property shall transfer to Savannah Carlson, provided she can make the ranch profitable in six months.”
White noise fills my ears, and the room tilts. I grip the edge of the table to keep from falling out of my chair. “So I need to make the ranch profitable . . . in six months . . . and as of now, it’s buried under a mountain of debt?”
Kent nods. “That’s correct.”
I tug on my ponytail and twist it hard between my fingers, panic bubbling in my chest. The ranch. Our family’s legacy. And now, entirely my responsibility. Is this some kind of joke? She knew Nash was always the born rancher, not me. How in her right mind did she think I could do this?
“So what happens if I can’t manage . . . if I fail?”
Kent taps his pen against the file. “You are free to sell it within the six-month period, although with all the debts that need settling, you would likely not make any profit from a sale. If you abandon the ranch and decide to just walk away, then the property will be sold at auction, and the proceeds will be used to settle all debts.”
The thud of my heart muffles his words, and suddenly I struggle to pull in a breath. My chest tightens, lungs tight like they’re being lassoed by heavy metal chains.
Nash lets out a loud snort. “Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it?
Will the ranch to your niece who couldn’t wait to get away from this town and has one foot out the door right now.
She might as well have just given it over to the damn state in the will and cut out the profitability-clause bullshit since we all know it’s gonna amount to that in the end. ”
“Your aunt thought long and hard about this clause. She loved Red Rock with her heart and soul. I know she wouldn’t want to see it in anyone else’s hands. But, of course, it’s your choice now, Savannah.” Kent closes the folder.
“Except she has no plans or desire to learn the business,” Nash interjects. “And she doesn’t want shit to do with this place.” He grabs his hat. “I’m outta here. Good luck, Savannah. ’Cause as of now, you’re on your own.” He storms out of the office, his boots thudding against the floor planks.
Oh my God. Staying here in Whiskey Creek means I’d have to see the emotionally stunted cowboy every freaking day while simultaneously trying to figure out how to be a rancher so I don’t lose the biggest piece of my past to some stranger.
I push the chair back, the feet scraping against the hardwood floor. “I need a minute,” I rasp, backing away from the table.
“Savannah,” Kent says, standing up from his chair. “Are you okay?”
I nod quickly, but I am so not okay. Not even remotely close to okay. “Just . . . please . . . I need some air.”
“Take your time. I know this is a lot to take in. We can talk about options for financing—loans, alliances, investors. You’ll need a business plan, of course, but we have people who can help with that.”
I nod and try to swallow, but my mouth is so dry, it’s like I just chewed up a package of saltines. My leg muscles tighten with every staggered step out the front door. I collapse on the porch swing.
Equipment issues. Water rights. Cattle grazing. Mortgages. Debts.
Holy crap.
I can’t do this.
I clap a hand over my mouth, my stomach ready to revolt.
Someone needs to protect the family legacy, Savvie.
My father’s words from years ago ring out in my mind, and I know he’s here with me, waiting for me to make the right decision.
But how can I?
A shuddering breath slips through my lips. I could just leave right now. Go back to Denver. Pretend that this nightmare never happened. Let the ranch be sold.
My eyes squeeze shut.
Running is what got me into this mess in the first place.
A tear slips out of the corner of my eye, and as a slight breeze whispers through the air, the wind chimes ring softly overhead. Just like they did back at Red Rock earlier today. A shiver runs through me, and I rub my hands down the front of my skirt.
And I think about my aunt, lying lifeless in her lavender field, all alone. She’d be so disappointed to see me crumble like this. I suck in air and ball my fingers into tight fists.
This ranch is all I have left of her. I won’t lose it. And I’ll be damned if I let this town see me fail.
In my periphery, a familiar black Ford F-150 appears. Wrath pounds through my temples as Blaze slowly cruises down the street. His eyes tangle with mine as he passes, a pulse of heat coiling in my core.
I let him in once, and he wrecked me.
But I’m not that girl anymore. I won’t fall for his bad boy charm this time around.
Six months to save the ranch, six months to prove Nash wrong, six months to make Blaze choke on his doubt . . . even if it kills me.