“A run,” Brady deadpanned. “On purpose?”
Jake snorted a laugh out. “Your brother said the same thing. Yes. A run. Gotta stay fit somehow.”
He felt like he didn’t have to walk on eggshells around Brady, but all the same he was cautious. He looked away, down the lane, the silence after his answer awkward. But then Brady chuckled and sat down beside him, leaning back. He rested one booted foot on his knee.
“My mom loved to sit here with her tea. She said it was the best view of the stables. She loved horses,” Brady said.
Jake turned his head and looked at his brother. He was so different from Tanner that sometimes he wondered how they were related, but he supposed Brady favored his mother. The auburn hair and less angular features were part of it, but he just seemed like a happier guy.
“I just realized. You haven’t been out to visit Dad’s grave yet,” Brady added, taking another loud slurp of his coffee.
It hadn’t even occurred to Jake that there was a grave for him to visit, let alone that he’d want to. He wondered if he even wanted to open that wound further.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he replied.
“Well, if you want to go, just let me know. I’ll take you,” Brady offered.
“I appreciate that,” he said, meaning it. He had a gut feeling that he and Brady were on their way to becoming friends, and it was a relief.
“All good. Hey, on that note, why don’t you come find me later, I’ll take you on a tour of the place. You haven’t had one yet, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. But I can just go for a walk, you don’t need to take time away,” Jake said.
“Take you a long time to walk it.” Brady laughed.
Brady seemed to think that was funny, so now he was curious. “How big is the ranch?”
“We’ve got a thousand acres, give or take. Half of that is under soybeans and corn at the moment, we’ve got two hundred acres of seeded hay and pasture fields, and we have the rest as what we call grazing land, high pasture we use in the early part of summer. The main house and stables, cattle barns are around twenty acres, and the pens at the back of the cattle barns are around fifty. Our land pushes into the foothills a bit compared to some. We log that on occasion.”
A thousand acres.Crops. Logging.Feedlots. Jake wasn’t sure he could even wrap his head around how big that was or what it would cost to run. He made a mental note to find the ranch on Google Maps later. “Is that a big operation, a thousand acres? How do you operate it with so few crew?”
“We hire in temporary crew for the planting, haying, the calving, and often drive cattle to the higher pasture with other outfits in the spring. It works. Feedlots make it a lot easier to spread the work too.”
“A lot of overhead and training, hiring in temp workers,” Jake said. He’d done that for big events and to handle the influx when he opened a new restaurant, but it was never fun to manage people you didn’t know well, and always expensive.
“We get regulars every year who know the routine, which helps. Dad preferred a small crew. Said it got the job done better, and we’ve never known it any different,” Brady replied. “I’d like to bring in someone permanently to help on the crop side eventually, and we could use a couple more full-time wranglers.”
“How long had Brett owned this place?” Jake asked, gesturing around him. He was asking a million questions, but Brady didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s been in the West family a few generations now. Each one buying a bit more land around the original ranch. Long tradition,” Brady said. “You didn’t know that?”
“Nope.” Not one mention of that in the documentation or from anyone, and Jake sat back, heaviness settling in his stomach.Generational. Not only was this family’s livelihood on the line, but their legacy as well. He blew out a tense breath and looked around him again.
“Well, if you’re gonna be here a while, you need to know the lay of the land. Your land, at the moment,” Brady added with finality as he stood and walked to his truck, keys jingling as he waved. “See you later.”
His land. No, it wasn’t, even if a bunch of papers said it was. Papers he hoped they could tear up so he could go back to where he was supposed to be, which was not twiddling his thumbs sitting on a thousand acres of ranch.
Thoughts about the enormity of what now had his name attached to it made him restless, and he stood, stretching, muscles he hadn’t felt in a while groaning. He looked at the little car he’d driven in, parked in front of the house, a coating of dust on it. It hadn’t moved since he’d gotten here.
He needed to figure out how to get that back to Calgary. Lawyers never moved fast, and Brady was right, he probably was going to be here for a while. He toyed with the idea of asking Liz to follow him in, and then drive back with her, but that might be like throwing gas on a fire if they were in the same truck for the hour or so it took to get from there back to the ranch. Maybe, with the offer Brady had given this morning, he could ask him instead. Tanner was out of the question. They’d kill each other spending that much time together in a small space.
He walked around back to head inside, passing through the kitchen on his way to his room and a shower. Rosy was bustling about in the kitchen.
“Good morning, Rosy,” he said, careful not to startle her, hoping his friendly tone was enough to keep her from scurrying away. “I thought today we could do up that chicken. I’m looking forward to sharing my rub recipe with you.”
She frowned and set down the fry pan she was holding. He noticed a small jumble of things in a box and a few cookbooks stacked beside that. She took a breath, her hands fidgeting. She was nervous.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. West,” she said, not meeting his eye. “I’m here for my things. I resigned this morning.”
