Pops interjects with the question we’re all wondering. “Like what?”
Four generations of Gambles have raised cattle on this land. What the hell else can we do with it? Become farmers like Wade? No, fucking thank you.
“Well, I’m not sure yet. But that would solve the issue. She can’t take half of nothing, right? She has no right to the land itself. That’s in Meemaw’s name. Tiff only has a claim on the ranching side of things. If we close it down and do something else, she loses.”
Skye’s not wrong, but it seems a bit crazy to shut down our entire ranch. Shelby must think so too because she jumps in, voice quiet but firm. “Let’s talk to Archie first. He’s a shark in the courtroom. He might be able to get her to drop her claim without you folding the ranch.”
“Fuck that,” Meemaw says into the quiet. All heads turn in her direction. She’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, a small bowl on the coffee table in front of her. The damn thing’s smoking. “I just put a spell on her. She’ll drop dead before she takes the ranch.”
“Jesus,” Ridge mutters, scrubbing both hands over his face.
“That seems a little extreme,” Frankie whispers.
I roll my eyes, trying not to look at Shelby, who’s barely holding back the laughter. “That’s not a spell, Meemaw. That’s just weed, and you’re going to set off the smoke alarm and get us all high.”
As if to prove my point, the alarm starts wailing and chaos descends.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
YOU’LL NEVER CATCH THE SUNSET SITTIN’ IN THE SHADE
Shelby
“Have I told you what a lifesaver you are?”
“Don’t go praising me just yet,” Archie protests, slamming his SUV door shut behind him. “I’ve only agreed to help out. I’m not sure how much I can do in the end. Tiff has a strong case.”
I take secret pleasure in Archie’s use of our nickname for Tiffany Grace, even though he doesn’t really know her. It’s the little things sometimes. “Well, taking on Ridge’s divorce case for free is already enough to win you brother-of-the-year status.” I close the passenger door and head for the stairs to my apartment, stopping on the way to grab my mail. The late afternoon sun kisses the backs of our necks as we ascend to my place.
We left the Gambles to themselves at the ranch, the somber mood having somewhat lightened with Archie’s arrival. Not enough to put anyone fully at ease, though. Ridge still looked hungover, even though Dallas and Skye cleared out the liquor cabinet yesterday to save him from himself. I guess beer still did the job, though, not that I blame him.
The one bright spot in this whole clusterfuck is that Houston’s finally coming home for more than just an afternoon. He stops in a few times a year when he’s got a break in his rodeo schedule, but he never stays, much to everyone’s disappointment. That man has a demon chasing him, and I reckon her name might be Josie Mae Turner, not that he’d ever admit it.
The apartment smells faintly of orange blossoms from my favorite essential oil diffuser, and I make a mental note to bring it back to Dallas’s sometime. “Just drop your bag in the guest room, Arch, and I’ll get us some drinks.”
I open the fridge to inspect its contents, but it’s practically empty. No surprise there since I’ve been staying with Dallas for so long. A pang hits me when I think of moving back in and living by myself again. If Dallas has his way, it will happen in a matter of days. I swipe two cans of seltzer from the door compartment and close the refrigerator with a little more force than necessary.
“I forgot how…turquoise this place is.” Archie’s eyes flit over my living space, an expression of mild distaste on his face.
“Put a plug in your talk box, little brother.” I toss the seltzer at him, and he snatches it easily from the air before it can hit him in the chest. He cracks it open and wanders my living room, checking out my fabulous decor.
“So, now that we don’t have an audience, you wanna tell me what’s up with you and Dallas? I can’t decide which of you was eye-fucking the other harder when your backs were turned.”
I gasp in mock indignation, but it lasts all of three seconds before I sink my butt into a couch cushion and sigh. “What’s up is I’m in deep, deep trouble.” I crack my seltzer open and take a long pull, the bubbles tickling my throat.
Archie barks out a laugh. “Oh, I figured as much.”
“I’m completely in love with the man, and I think it’s mutual, but things are a little up in the air,” I confess.
“How so?”
I lean forward, setting my can on a coaster on the coffee table with a loudclack. “He said he loved me and then took it back.”
Archie’s chin jerks. “Took it back? How exactly does that work?”
“He thinks he’s doing me a favor.” I roll my eyes. “He’s under the impression he’s not good enough for me or something.”
