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As we approach the van, Cannon and Bull walk by with a man whose hands are zip-tied.

I step in front of him, and he looks at me with dull eyes.

“We were only supposed to take you for a ‘conversation’. To scare you out of the ranch.”

Smiling, I say to him, “Then you got more bargains than you expected to buy.”

Vortex, Noah, and Cannon all say at the same time, “You got more than you bargained for.”

“Yes. Whatever!”

Chapter 17

*~* Silas *~*

Vortex stopped by with Allegra this morning and gave me some good news. His club treasurer and their secretary are going to handle their side of the sale and have an out-of-town lawyer completing the legals.

I’ve used the same law firm in town for over fifty years. They’ve covered everything I’ve ever needed them for, but when I rang and said I was selling the ranch privately and not through a realtor, I got the impression that they weren’t happy with that.

In fact, I know they weren’t because they asked outright if I knew what I was doing and suggested I rethink my decision. I spoke first to a receptionist, who had an odd reaction to my reason for contacting them. They always want to know why you’re making an appointment, as if their job depended on it, and when I told her, she said she’d never heard of such a thing.

I had the perfect response when I said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” That was a total waste of breath as she hadn’t got a clue what I was talking about. After speaking to the firm's real estate attorney, I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t happy with my decision either. I told them to cancel my appointment and that I would seek advice elsewhere. They tried to call me back twice, but I ignored them. I’m now dealing with a law firm that one of my neighbors used when he tried to sue me over a water rights dispute some years back. They almost had me on that one, I recall.

Anyway, Vortex and Allegra looked very good together. I wish Marisela had been more like her. I think Allegra will make an excellent horse rancher. When I showed her the ranch, she asked some very insightful questions that brought me to that conclusion. Marisela only questioned why she had to work at all. I hate to say it of my daughter, but she was a lazy bitch, and that husband of hers was nothing but a lazy bastard. I can’t count the number of times that I had to do work that he was supposed to have done.

My phone buzzes and I see a message from Chips, who’s watching the front today.

Chips: Woman walking to the ranch.

Silas: Ok.

Wondering who it could be, I grab a coffee and sit on the porch to wait. It takes a surprisingly long time before I see her, but when I do, I’m no longer surprised by the time it’s taken. Marisela never did anything fast unless it was to her benefit, and what the hell does she expect to benefit by coming back here after all this time. It’s interesting that she’s alone, maybe she’s come to her senses and dumped his sorry ass.

Silas: Was she alone at the roadside?

Chips: No. Someone dropped her off on the ranch road. They were in the car several minutes before she started walking. Who is she?

Silas: Trouble.

Chips: Need one of us there?

Silas: No. I’m good but let Vortex know. He’ll know who she is.

Sitting back, I collect my thoughts, and all my conclusions as to why she is here are on the dark side. I can’t believe she is here for any good reason whatsoever. A horrible thing to think about your daughter. She finally notices me on the porch, and I see the acting kick up a notch. The way she suddenly walks slower, drags her feet, slumps her shoulders. I notice she isn’t carrying any bags.

When she reaches the porch, I stand and wait for what she has to say. She is covered in dust from the ranch road, and I have to hide my grin. She may be covered in dust, and I may be old, but I’m not too old to see the handprints on her clothes, especially her jeans, from where she rubbed the dust on herself. Her head has barely a hair out of place, either.

“I’ve come home, Pops,” she says in a strong, clear voice, her hands held behind her back. Not one that has been walking and dried out in the heat.

“I see that, Marisela, but for what? There is nothing here for you.” I watch her eyes flash in anger. This is not the response her ‘plan’, or whatever this is, was expecting.

“It’s still my home, Pops. It always has been.”

“It hasn’t been your home since the last time you left with that no-account husband of yours. The pair of you slipped away and never looked back.” I say it slowly and clearly. I want there to be no misunderstandings.

“He made me leave. He doesn’t work, you know that. He forced me to go with him.” I see her crocodile tears, and they don’t move me at all. Her hands are now fidgeting behind her back.

“No man has ever made you do anything you didn’t want to, and you’re as much a slacker as he is. What is it you truly want here, Marisela?”