Well, aside from calling her Calamity.
My dad folds his hands in his lap and leans back, looking out the large window on his right. I wonder what he thinks when he sees the land that has delivered him his greatest joys and staunchest hardships.
His eyes sweep back to me. “I’m selling off some land—”
My mouth opens to argue, but his stiff upraised palm stops me.
“Don’t say it,” he instructs. “Whatever it is, I’ve already thought it.”
My lips stay pursed in a tight line. He watches me, his eyes growing smaller the longer his gaze stays on mine. “When the place is yours, you can make your own choices. But right now, this place belongs to me, and I’m making the decisions I need to make to keep this place on top. Property taxes have been going nowhere but up, and that’s land we don’t use. We’ll make money on the sale and decrease our tax burden.”
“It’ll make us look like we’re having financial trouble,” I spit out, despite his earlier command.
“Hard choices are hard for a reason, Wes.”
It’s his way of telling me he has already decided.
He lowers his palm back to his desk. “I reached out to a realtor. She’s putting in some calls to development companies I would prefer to sell to. Places with standards and a backbone. I don’t want some pansy-ass people who’ll use the land to bring in big box stores and ruin Sierra Grande.”
I smirk. “Is that what you told the realtor to write in the listing?”
The corner of his mouth quirks, and it’s as much of a smile as I’ll get out of him while discussing this.
If my mother is my father’s first love, and the ranch his second, then Sierra Grande is a close third. Like many of the people still living in the town, Dad was born and raised here. The Hayden Cattle Company is as much a fixture as the Bar N, the local watering hole located in a poorly revamped barn.
“I want you to take point on this project. I’ll go to the first meetings with you from prospective buyers, but after that, it’s your responsibility.” He gets up from his chair and walks to the window while I busy myself picking my jaw up from wherever it rolled to when it hit the ground. Aside from the time I spent in the military, I’ve been working the ranch my whole life and I’ve never been given responsibility in the running of it. It should make me happy, but mostly it worries me. My dad is getting older, and he’s pulling back.
When I recover, I say, “This is a pretty big project for you not to handle on your own, Dad, or at least have a big hand in.”
He turns, his dark eyes piercing me like arrows. “Are you not up for it?”
“Of course I am,” I assure him.
“I thought you might want to be part of what will ultimately edge our property. After all, this place will be yours one day.” He doesn’t look away, doesn’t mention the fact that right now, the way things are, the Hayden Cattle Company cannot be mine.
Four generations of Hayden cattlemen run through my blood, and I want to sit at the helm of this family ranch more than I want food or air. It twists me up inside knowing I may never get what I’ve spent my whole life dreaming of.
It will go to Warner, though he doesn’t want it like I do. If he passes it up, it will go to Wyatt, and who the hell knows what will happen then?
Without me, the Hayden Cattle Company may not have a future. The worst part? I could rectify my situation, but it seems an impossible task.
My dad shakes my hand and tells me he’ll direct the calls from the realtor my way. On my way out of the office, I bump into my mom. She’s walking with Peyton, the older of Warner’s two kids.
She kisses my cheek and squeezes my hand. “Are you taking on the project?”
I nod. She smiles faintly, her eyes creased in concern. “It will be good for you. Good for the ranch. Your dad’s getting old. He needs to slow down.”
“Right,” I agree. Sometimes I think he’s evergreen, and other times I see his age. “What are you two ladies up to this morning?”
“Milking goats,” Peyton answers. She has her mother’s blond hair and dimpled left cheek. “Grandma’s going to show me how she makes goat cheese.”
“No