My senses prickle. What in the world is going on?
“He’s left it to you.” He hands over a sheet of paper.
“What? He left me the ranch?”
“He did. It was all he had left, and with no family remaining, all his possessions are now yours.”
“Mine?” I ask. “He never mentioned it.”
“The Lost Spur is yours. I should mention there are a few liens on the property that will need to be handled should you keep it, but if you sell?—”
“I’m aware of how the process works,” I interject. “What do you mean by a few?”
A thick manila envelope is passed over. “Everything is in this file. Profit and loss statements. Current operating costs. Reservations.”
“When do I have to make a decision?”
“I’m sorry, a decision?” he asks.
“On what I want to do.”
“Mr. Miller. The ranch is yours. There will be some paperwork for you to sign, but once complete, the property and cattle business is yours.”
“Is this something I can do here?”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Due to probate, it will need to be handled in Pinecrest.”
Shit.
“When’s the soonest this can be done?” I ask.
“Given that I know the county judge, we can get the paperwork done fairly quickly.”
“And what then?”
“Then?” He adjust his glasses. “You would be the owner of the ranch.”
A ranch in Pinecrest. It sounds like my nightmare.
“Could I sell it?”
“It does require some work.”
Of course it couldn’t be as easy as signing some paperwork and then selling.
“I have money. Would that help move the process?”
“Mr. Miller.” He shifts in his seat. “You cannot throw money at this to make it go away.”
Great. And now I sound like a dick.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He stands, looking thoroughly annoyed with me. “I recommend sending all of this over to your attorney and making them aware of what is going on. I’ll be in contact with your assistant to let her know the time and place of your meeting. I understand this is a lot, but these things take time.”
“Right.” I stand, shaking his hand. “Thank you for coming down here to meet with me.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you had taken my phone call.”
