Chapter 3

Chapter 3

WEST

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real.

I stalked away from the office, lengthening my strides until I was nearly jogging. I needed to get the fuck out of this building so I could think. So I could breathe. So I couldn’t smell Indya’s sweet rose perfume.

“Hey, West. Could I—”

“Later.” I raised a hand, cutting off Deb’s question as I breezed past the front desk.

She probably wanted to know if I was going to give her those two weeks in July off so she could travel with her boyfriend to different rodeos around the state.

Since I was pissed off at her boyfriend, I wasn’t really inclined to say yes at the moment.

Casey had agreed to work for us this summer and take guests fishing. We’d been short a guide for the second summer in a row, and I couldn’t take off time to go fishing. But instead of showing up to work, Casey had called in sick the past three weekends so he could go team roping. Which meant I’d had to stop offering fishing to guests. Again.

My irritation with the boyfriend aside, Deb didn’t have any vacation time left. She’d already gotten an extra week. And we couldn’t afford to have her gone for two weeks during our busiest season.

Who else would sit at the desk? Jax? Dad? Me? The three of us were already stretched thin.

Grandma was already taking the early-morning shifts. But being on her feet all day wouldn’t be good for her hip. Besides that, it just created extra work for me. She didn’t like the computer system, so before dawn, I’d come to the lodge and brew her a pot of coffee. Then I’d print out every reservation on paper so she could have it when guests came in.

She preferred to have everything done the way she’d done it for years. In the days when she and Grandpa had built this lodge. When they’d created the Crazy Mountain Cattle Resort.

Did my grandparents know that Dad had sold their ranch? That he’d taken what they’d gifted him and cast it aside?

Fucking hell. This was a nightmare. This wasn’t real.

He sold the ranch?

My stomach roiled as I shoved through the lodge’s front door so hard it slammed against the wall, the hinges creaking as they rebounded.

This wasn’t real.

“West,” Jax called, running to catch up as I hurried down the porch stairs.

“Not now.” I kept walking, dragging a hand through my hair as I headed for my truck.

It was a nice day. Clear blue sky. Fresh, crisp air. Warm yellow sunlight. Why were the worst days of my life always on nice days?

“West,” he called again as his hand clamped down on my shoulder.

“Not now, Jax.” I shrugged off his grip and continued toward my truck.

“You’re just going to walk away? Let this happen?”

I spun around to face him. “What the hell do you want me to do? I can’t even . . . I don’t even know what is happening right now.”

“Neither do I.” He threw his hands in the air. “You have to stay. You have to fix it.”

Fix it? I’d been trying to fix it for years.

“Please,” Jax begged.

Fuck. “Later. I promise.”

Dad emerged from the lodge, scanning the parking lot. When he spotted us, he took the porch steps, wincing with each one. That limp wasn’t getting any better, but the stubborn bastard refused to go to the doctor. He’d hurt his hip, and maybe his knee, when he’d gotten bucked off a horse two weeks ago.

The horse was a young black gelding that needed time and patience. It needed daily rides and lessons on how to be a great horse. Not a good horse, a great horse.

My horse.

The last horse that had truly been mine was Chief. When he’d died, it had left a void. A hole I hadn’t been ready to fill. So for the past ten years, I’d ridden whichever horse was available. But as the horses we used for guests got older, slower, it was time to start training new horses.

And it was time for me to have my own horse.

I’d bought five and chosen the tallest for myself. The other four, Jax and I had been riding hard, taking on trail rides with guests, and training on the daily routine.

But that gelding wasn’t going to be a trail horse, and there weren’t enough hours in every day. His training hadn’t taken priority.

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for Dad, because two weeks ago, I’d come home from a long day moving cattle, and he’d been limping. He’d taken my horse for a ride and had a wreck.

If he just would have waited—if he just would have talked to me . . .

About the horse.

About the ranch.

About Indya.

Indya.

Why? What was she doing here? Four years and not a word. Then this? Goddamn it. I couldn’t breathe. My head was swimming. My heart felt like it had just been ripped into pieces.

I needed to get the fuck out of here.

Dad held up a hand before I could escape. “Stop right there, son.”

Thirty-one years old, and I still didn’t argue with that tone. “Not in a mood to talk, Dad.”

“Tough.” He stopped beside Jax, planting his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. I know this was a shock. There’s more to say. I should have explained, but . . . I did what I thought was best.”

“By selling the ranch?” This wasn’t real.

Except it was real, wasn’t it?

“How could you?”

“We’re in trouble, West.”

“I know we’re in fucking trouble,” I barked. “This wasn’t the answer.”

“It was the answer. The only answer. You’ll have to trust me on that.”

“Trust?” Did he even know the meaning of that word? “Fuck you.”

He flinched.

Jax too.

“We’re not just sinking. We’re drowning.”

“We?”

This had never been we. It was always him.

His decision. His choice.

His ranch.

“Me.” His voice cracked. “We’re—I’m—broke.”

Broke? More like broken.

We were broken.

It should have hurt more. It should have taken me by surprise. But deep down, we’d been riding hard down this road for years.

“What do you mean, we’re broke?” Jax asked.

“There’s no money.” Dad’s eyes were watery. “We owe more to the bank than we can hope to pay.”

“So you just sold everything?” Jax asked. “You didn’t even talk to us.”

“Look, if I had another choice, I would have made it.”

“Alone,” I said. “You would have made that decision alone. Like always.”

He’d sold the ranch.

This was real. This was fucking real.

Unreal.

Not only had he ripped it away from our family, but he’d done it alone. He’d talked to her alone. He’d poured salt on the gaping, bleeding gash in my heart.

“How long?” I asked. “How long have you been planning this in secret?”

Dad dropped his gaze to the dirt. “A month.”

“What?” Jax erupted, tossing both hands in the air. “You sold it a month ago?”

“No. Contract was signed last week. But we’ve been . . . negotiating.”

Negotiating. With Indya Keller.

No, not Keller. Hamilton. Indya Hamilton was her married name. Though she hadn’t been wearing that massive, gaudy diamond on her finger today. Why? Where was Blaine?

Was he a part of this too? The idea of that son of a bitch owning the ground beneath my feet made my blood boil. This was Haven land. Even before Grandpa and Grandma had started the resort, this ranch had been in our family for generations.

“This is our legacy.”

Was our legacy.

And now it belonged to her.

How had we gotten here? How had it all fallen apart so epically? I couldn’t catch my breath. Someone had knocked the wind from my lungs, and I couldn’t fill them up.

“You really sold it to her?” Jax asked.

Dad nodded. “I did.”

“But . . . you didn’t talk to us.” The lilt of a question hung on Jax’s statement.

Once upon a time, Dad’s autocratic tendencies had taken me by surprise too. It used to baffle me that he wouldn’t consult with his children over decisions that impacted their lives.

But I’d learned over the years that Dad didn’t ask, because he didn’t want our input.

Jax hadn’t experienced that enough, mostly because he was still young.

My brother had spent the past four years away at college in Bozeman. He’d been fairly removed from ranch and resort business.

But he’d come home last month, proudly waving that bachelor’s degree, and declared he was ready to help with the business.

Dad hadn’t had the heart to tell him the truth about the business. Neither had I.

I’d known for years we were in trouble. It was getting harder and harder to make those bank payments. My proposed solution was to put some land up for sale.

Just not all the land.

Did he really sell all the land?

“It’s not ideal,” Dad said. “But at least we know Indya. She’s been here. Her family has spent time here. She knows the resort. And the Kellers are good people.”

Except she wasn’t a Keller, not anymore.

“Better her than have some developer buy it and break it apart,” Dad said.

“How do you know she won’t?” I asked.

“She gave me her word. I believe she’ll keep it.”

Maybe. Maybe not. “Is it in the contract?”

Dad shook his head.

“Oh, hell.” Jax rubbed both hands over his face. “We’re fucked. Absolutely fucked.”

I wanted to argue. To tell him we’d figure it out. That we’d be okay. But I didn’t make promises to my brother I couldn’t keep.

“Trust me.” Dad’s eyes searched mine. “Please.”

“I can’t.”

Dad opened his mouth but closed it with an audible click. Maybe he had more to say, but I wasn’t going to listen. I’d heard enough. So he turned on a heel and stalked toward the barn. Hopefully he’d choose a horse other than my gelding if he went for a ride.

“What do we do?” Jax asked.

“I don’t know.”

He shifted to stare at the shiny black SUV with Texas plates. Indya’s, no doubt.

“We have to trust him. And work for her?” Jax scoffed. “I’m not fucking working for her. She can kiss my ass.”

“Don’t—”

“Don’t what?”

Don’t talk about her that way. “Don’t overreact. Until we learn more.”

Jax didn’t know about my history with Indya. Neither did Dad—at least not all of it.

No one knew. It had been easier that way.

Easier when she came to Montana for a week in the summer, then went back to her rich life in Texas.

She was here. For how long?

I hated that I still hoped for more than a week.

Without another word, I went to my truck and ripped open its door to climb inside. The engine roared to life as I turned the key. Then I slammed my foot on the gas, peeling out of the gravel lot in a cloud of dust as I raced down the road.

What I needed was a long, hard ride, but Dad had beaten me to it, so a drive would have to do.

The truck bounced and shimmied on the road. It was on my list of things to do to call the county to come out and have the gravel graded. It was riddled with washboarding and potholes. But every time I remembered, it was long after five, and their offices were closed.

Before I reached the main archway and entrance to the ranch, I hit the brakes, skidding as I slowed to turn onto the two-track road that wound through a pasture. I followed the trodden grass path as it wove through a grove of trees and onward toward the mountains in the distance.

Another half mile, and I’d be out of cell phone service. With any luck, I’d get a flat. At this point, I’d rather be stranded out here with nothing but my truck than anywhere near that lodge.

Was Indya planning to stay? What exactly did she think would happen now that she owned it? Were we out of jobs? Homes?

My head was still spinning. The pressure in my chest was crippling. My pulse boomed so loudly in my ears I couldn’t think.

I slammed my fist on the wheel at the same time I took my foot off the gas and let the truck coast to a stop. The moment it was stopped, I flew out the door, needing some air.

Five steps into the meadow’s tall grass, I dropped to my knees. Then I dragged in a shaky inhale, holding it until my lungs burned.

This was my land. This was my home.

Why would Indya do this? Revenge?

Did she really hate me that much?

Indya knew what this ranch meant to me. To my family. It was as much a part of my body as my bones.

An eagle screamed as it soared over the trees.

Screaming seemed like a damn good idea.

So I buried my face in my hands.

And roared, “Fuck!”

I closed my eyes, breathing until the sound faded.

My fault. This was my fault.

As much as I wanted to blame this on Dad, if I was being honest with myself, our financial problems had started with Courtney. And that was on me. I’d brought her to this ranch.

My hand went to the ground, my fingers digging up a clump of dirt to turn over in my palm.

This was Haven land. My land.

There had to be a way to undo this sale. There had to be a way to fix this.

I took a few minutes to breathe, to let my anger and shock fade. Then I stood, brushing the dirt from my hand on my jeans, and walked to my truck. I made the return drive to the ranch at a slower pace, giving myself time to think.

How much money did I need to come up with? What was the price tag he’d given Indya?

There was a neighbor’s place outside Big Timber with similar acreage that had sold two years ago for ten million dollars.

Too many zeros.

We’re broke.

I didn’t have millions of dollars. Could I borrow it?

The summer season was always when we brought in money. Then we’d sell this year’s calves in the fall. We were running lean on expenses. I had already cut back on resort staff and was doing as much as possible myself.

It wasn’t enough.

Why did Indya even want this place? What was she doing here?

There was only one way to find out.

Her SUV was still in the lot when I pulled up to the lodge. I parked beside it and headed inside.

The lobby was empty. Where the fuck was Deb? Why was it so hard for her to stay at the desk? I didn’t bother with the bell. I just riffled through the paperwork until I found Indya’s name.

Room 208. I took the stairs two at a time and rounded the landing, then marched for the end of the hall. With my fist raised to knock, I drew in a calming breath—it didn’t work—and pounded on the doorframe.

It was a little too loud, a little too violent. Three doors down, another door whipped open, and our head housekeeper, Tara, poked her head into the hallway.

“Everything okay, West?”

“Fine,” I lied.

“Okay,” she drawled, then disappeared into the room again.

A muffled yelp came from inside Indya’s room before she opened the door, rubbing her elbow.

“Funny bone?” I asked.

“Yeah. I tripped on my suitcase.”

For a moment, the familiarity of it chased away all the other bullshit. This was us.

Indya, having injured herself, because there wasn’t a soul on earth with as much clumsy running through their veins.

And me, always a few seconds too late and never quite fast enough to catch her before she fell.

“Hi, West.”

“Hey, Indy.”

A lock of her curly blonde hair had escaped her bun, and she tucked it behind her ear. It wouldn’t stay. Her hair never stayed put, but she fought it anyway. Her caramel eyes were harder than they had been four years ago. Their light had dimmed, and she looked . . . tired. And yet every time she came to the ranch, she was more beautiful.

She was dressed in a pair of black slacks. The sleeveless gray blouse she wore had a high collar and was molded to her torso, accentuating the curves of her breasts. The scent of roses wafted from the room, and with it came memories of dark nights and stolen kisses.

The window was open, and a gust knocked that curl loose again, freeing it to skim her temple.

Once upon a time, I would have tugged the pins out of her hair. I would have buried my hands in those curls and locked us in this room for a week.

But that was before she’d stolen my legacy.

“How much for the ranch?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Indya sighed. “It’s not for sale.”

Fuck. “How. Much?” If I could just get her to name a price, then I’d figure out a way to make it happen. Somehow, I’d find a way.

“West.” Her voice gentled. “I’m not selling it. And if I was . . .”

I couldn’t afford it.

If she named a price, it would be astronomical. It would be more money than I’d see in my lifetime.

Dad was rich now that he’d sold the ranch.

But I wasn’t. Not even close.

Humiliation burned a hot trail through my insides, but I wasn’t here to save my pride. I was here to save my family’s land. “I’ll work my whole life to pay you back. You can’t take this from us.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“The hell it isn’t.” My voice bounced off the walls.

She held up a hand. “I know it came as a shock today, but—”

“A shock,” I deadpanned. “Yeah, it was a shock. I walk into the lodge because Dad calls me to say we need to have an urgent meeting, and there you are after four years, sitting behind my desk. You took my chair before anyone had the decency to tell me it was no longer mine.”

“West—”

“This is my home. This is my livelihood. Don’t you dare fucking take it from me.”

The color drained from her face. “It’s already done.”

No. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be a way to take it back.

Maybe my only option was to drive her away.

I hated myself for what I was about to say, but it wasn’t the first time I’d hurt her. It wasn’t the first time I’d told myself it was for her own good.

“You don’t belong here, Indya.”

She flinched, her gaze dropping to an invisible spot on the floor. “I know.”

“Sell it back to me. Please.” I wasn’t above begging, not for this.

Indya raised her chin. There was nothing but steely determination etched across that beautiful face. “Tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock. My office. I expect you, your father, and your brother to be there. Then we can discuss who exactly belongs on my ranch.”

She stepped back, almost tripping over her bare feet. But she caught herself in time to grip the door.

And slam it in my face.

She slammed it so hard that Tara, smart woman, knew better than to poke her head into the hallway again.