Clashing Hearts - Nicky James Page 0,37

cleaning up the coffee spill from my tantrum.

“How the hell did Josiah find out about your struggles? You didn’t tell him, did you?” Knox asked.

“Hell no. Are you outta your mind? I don’t tell that guy anything because this is what happens when you do.” I snapped the paper off the table again and glared daggers at the article on the front page. “Campbell Stables in hot water,” I read. “Possible land development coming in the near future.” I threw the paper again, and a plate slid and crashed to the ground, spilling scrambled eggs on the floor and shattering.

“Hey!” Dad shouted. “Enough outta you. You calm the hell down.”

I bit back a response and grabbed a rag just as Logan darted back into the room, sniffing out a score.

“Stay back. There’s glass in that food, you fool. You can’t eat it.”

Logan shrank away from my harsh tone and found a place behind Knox’s legs to sit where he could peek at me even though he thought he was hidden.

A tense silence filled the room as I cleaned up the mess I’d made. Once I’d put the broken plate and food in the garbage and ensured there was no glass about, I stood, hands on my hips.

“It was that motherfucker who told him. I know it.”

“Watch your mouth in my house, boy. You ain’t too old for soap.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. It wasn’t time to argue and tell Dad it was my house now.

“Who?” Knox asked, eyeing Dad before returning his attention to me.

“That guy from Edmonton who was tryin’ to convince me to sell. I pissed him off yesterday because I wouldn’t listen, now he’s blabbin’ to the damn paper and advertising our financial situation around town.”

“You think he took this to Josiah?”

“I have no doubt. It’s exactly the kind of person he is. Can you take me to town? I need to find out for sure.”

Knox hitched a brow. “You wanna see Josiah?”

“I need to find out where he got this information. If it was that mother—”

“Boy, I swear to god,” Dad warned.

I bit my tongue. “I need answers. Josiah has them. So yeah, I need to talk to him.”

Knox pulled out his phone and checked the time. “It’s almost nine. Don’t you have—”

“Shit.” I tugged fingers through my hair and spun in a circle, wishing I could expel this rage growing inside me. “I can’t go right now. I gotta open up the trail rides.”

“What time can you get away? I’ll come back and take you later if you want.”

“Forget it. I can go on my own. I’ll take Bella later.”

“Like hell. If you’re talking to either Josiah or this city punk, I’m gonna be there. You ain’t doin’ it alone.”

“Fine. I’ll text you. Probably be this afternoon.”

Knox nodded. He eyed the table and the lonely piece of toast that remained on the platter. “Anyone gonna eat that?”

Dad offered him the plate, and Knox shoved it in his mouth before waving. “Call me later,” he mumbled around the food as he headed to the front door.

“Man’s a bloody garbage disposal,” Dad said after the front door slammed.

I didn’t get a chance to respond. Dad turned to me, looking ripe and ready for a lecture, so I grabbed the Monday edition of Jasper Times that Knox had brought over and stormed out of the house, Logan on my heels.

My gut told me, as much as I despised Josiah and his slippery methods of acquiring information for his columns, this was the result of a far worse adversary. This was because I’d pissed off a cocky, suit-wearing businessman one too many times.

If Lachlan Montgomery hadn’t left town yet, he was gonna wish he had. Those damn lips and soul-melting green eyes wouldn’t save him this time.

Chapter Nine

Lachlan

My ringing phone broke into my thoughts as I sat on the end of the sleigh bed in my rented room at the lodge, polishing the dried dirt off my loafers. I glanced at the screen. Dad again. Ignoring it, I returned my focus to the fresh scratches in the leather which appeared as the dirt disappeared. There would be no buffing them out.

“Figures.” I touched a deeper groove, frowning. They were ruined.

My phone fell silent, but within five minutes, it rang again.

I checked the display.

Still not Easton.

Dad.

It was the sixth time he’d called since I woke up. It was after nine on Monday morning, and I wasn’t in the office. He wanted to know where I was and what had happened with the

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