Page 69 of Grit
“That is…” Cary had to read through it twice. “Wow.”
“Right?”
“Help us get our development project done and we’ll cancel your debt. Speak out against it and we’ll take your ranch.” He looked up. “Is this woman for real?”
“Did you like how she mentioned the money was ‘nothing to them’? I liked that part especially.”
“The moneyisn’tanything to them.” He sat next to her. “This is all about control. About getting their hooks in you whatever way they can.”
“And through me, Abby.” She looked up at him, her eyes still damp. “I can’t do it, Cary. If I give in on this, they’ll hold it over me for the rest of my life.”
He nodded, knowing she was right. “So what are your options?”
“Right now, nothing. They have to give me notice if they’re calling it in, and I already emailed Mom’s estate lawyer, hoping he might find a loophole somewhere.”
Cary wasn’t counting on a loophole. He was already shuffling his assets, trying to figure out where he could grab seventy-five grand. He could put it together, but then he’d have to convince Melissa to take it. That would be the harder part.
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I haven’t told Mom yet. She’s going to be so pissed. And disappointed.”
“At you?”
“No, at Calvin.” Melissa heaved a huge sigh. “She adored him.”
Cary turned his head and kissed her forehead. “Are you pissed at him?”
She was silent for a long time. “No. Because it’s just such a Calvin thing. He was the enthusiastic dreamer. He always figured things would work out. There was no malice there. Just… gross optimism.”
“He should have told you when he signed that note.”
“I had a hard pregnancy, and I was so damn cranky because I couldn’t ride. I was getting three hours of sleep on a good day.” She snuggled her head into Cary’s shoulder. “He was probably afraid of me.”
Cary put his arms around her and marveled at the generosity of her heart. She could have blamed her late husband, could have resented the life of privilege that gave Calvin such an unrealistic attitude toward money.
She didn’t. She loved him for who he was.
“What are you going to tell Abby?”
She pulled away and stared at him. “Nothing. Why should I tell Abby anything?”
“Maybe not now, but if they call in the note—”
“She doesn’t need to know, Cary.”
He bit his tongue. It wasn’t his place to say, but Abby was a mature kid and she wasn’t clueless. She was going to know something was going on.
“Kiss me,” she said.
He stroked her hair and tucked a piece behind her ear. “I want to, but you’re upset.”
She frowned. “I know. That’s why I want you to kiss me.”
He smiled, glad that she’d come to him, relieved that he’d become her sounding board even if he had to bite his tongue sometimes.
“I suppose…” He kissed the corner of her eye, which was still a little teary. “…I could kiss you. As a friend.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “Yes. Just a friendly kiss.”
“Missy,” he whispered against her lips before he kissed them.
