Page 84 of Cowboy of Convenience
And then he would have had to sell the ranch. There wouldn't have been another choice. So he’d worked every second of every hour of every day, trying to make sure that never happened.
"Bullshit." Larry stumbled a little, reaching out to steady himself on the wall. "Your fucking wife can’t even ride a goddamned horse. There's no way she's gonna live on a ranch."
"What my wife will and won't be doing is none of your business." He didn't mind Larry slinging insults at him, but Evelyn had been his saving grace these past few days, and he'd be damned if he let anybody say a bad word about her.
Even a drunk, stupid old man.
"My business is getting what I'm due." Larry shoved one finger into the center of his chest. "This ranch should come to me. I'm the one who worked it. I'm the one who appreciated it. I’m the one who deserves it."
"I'm not sure about what you deserve, but I know what you need is some coffee and a little time to sober up." Grady worked the conversation toward the only resolution he could come up with, hoping he could still diffuse the situation. That was always the number one priority in any confrontation, and usually he was good at it. "Why don't we get you downstairs, get a pot of coffee going, and give you a little time to get your thoughts right."
"My thoughts are the rightest they've ever been." Larry kept coming his way, undaunted and undeterred. "What I deserve is what me and Charlene are owed since you stole this ranch right out from under us."
Grady's blood went cold. The way he said it sounded so familiar. It was etched into him over the years, cut deeper every time his mother flung the accusation his way.
And it was hard to deny where that suspicion might have come from. "I didn't steal anything from you, Larry. This ranch was never going to be yours." He wanted to be the kind of cop he worked so hard to become—level-headed and detached—but it was impossible. "Youdon'tdeserve it. Youdidn'tearn it. And you sure as helldidn'tappreciate it."
He pulled his phone out to call for backup since his ability to handle this himself was diminishing rapidly. But before he could call the station, Larry lunged, batting the phone out of his hand and across the hall as he sneered, "Don't tell me what I deserve."
Grady took a step back, because if he didn't he was gonna punch Larry in the face. And he didn't have time to go through all the repercussions something like that would entail. He had a wife he wanted to be home for every night. A honeymoon he intended to take.
And he had a fucking ranch to run.
"I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just swing at me, Larry." Grady took another step back as the older man kept coming, backing him down the hall. "But you need to get the fuck out ofmyhouse."
Larry laughed, the sound wheezy and wet. "This isn't your house, boy. This is yourfather'shouse."
Grady nodded, agreeing with Larry for the first time. "You're right. This is my father's house." He backed up again, inching his way toward the spot his cell phone landed. "Just like it was his father's before him." He closed the gap, managing to get the phone right beside his boot, bracing himself for Larry's reaction when he grabbed it. "Just like it'll be my son’s after me."
He bent, reaching down to grab the cell, but Larry was surprisingly quick. He rushed forward, grabbing Grady by the shirt and slamming him into the wall. His eyes were bloodshot and red, that sour smell tainting the space leaking out of his pores and his mouth as he leaned into Grady. "Where's the fuckin’ money? I know you hid it from me."
Grady gripped Larry's shirt, fisting it tight, intending to shove him off and let the chips fall where they may. But before he could push, something heavy and solid swung from one side, catching Larry in the temple, sending his head twisting hard and his body dropping.
Grady stared in disbelief at the woman in front of him. “Gram-Gram?”
She stared down at Larry’s motionless body, looking just as shocked as he was. “I’ve never hit anyone before.” Her eyes went to the object still clutched in her hands. “Oh no.” Her focus came to his face. “I’m so sorry. I simply grabbed the heaviest thing I could find. I didn’t realize—”
“Nothing to apologize for.” Grady gently took the urn from Gram-Gram, tucking it under one arm. “I think my dad would love knowing he helped knock Larry out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EVELYN
"IT'S PROBABLY BETTER I'm not the one who hit him. I would have been swinging to kill." Evelyn crossed both arms over her chest, scowling from her spot on the sofa in Grady's parents’ house.
Technically, now it was their house, which made Larry’s invasion that much worse. Not only had he violated both Grady and his parents’ trust, but he’d also tainted her new home with this memory.
And she had every right to be pissed about that, regardless of who she was or where she came from.
The police officer in front of her chuckled, surprisingly amused by her threat of violence. "And I am very glad you didn't, because the paperwork on that would have been a nightmare." He scribbled across the pad in his hand. "Is there anything else you can think of? Anything else you might have forgotten?"
There was one thing she sure as heckwouldn’tbe forgetting. "What about Charlene? Is she going to get in trouble for her part in this?"
Unfortunately, her grandmother only managed to stun Larry and the hit to the head must have rattled the sense right out of his brain. He hadn’t stopped running his mouth since he staggered back to his feet. He’d called her every name in the book and spewed all sorts of admissions he’d regret making.
Like the one where he said he and Charlene had been looking through the house for weeks trying to find the money she helped Grady move to a safety deposit box.
Or the one where he said he should have hit Lula Bell harder because maybe then the horse would have run straight into traffic.
