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Under the Christmas Star

Page 31

by Amanda Tru


  “He and Lena are definitely not…”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  Shelby raced around the desk and planted a huge kiss on the old man’s forehead. “You’re the best, Ed. I’ve gotta go.”

  The little car would only go so fast, but she made record time to Wright Ranch. She slid in the gravel turning the corner and managed to not wreck the car as she came to a stop.

  Beau’s truck wasn’t in the front, but that wasn’t unusual. Stan used it sometimes for heavy work on the ranch. She hurried up the front stairs and there the front door stood open. The smell of coffee and someone banging pots in the kitchen told Shelby he was home. She flew down the hallway and nearly missed the entrance to the kitchen but grabbed the door jamb and swung herself through the door.

  Ollie caught her just as she came hurtling into the room. “Whoa, there, girl! You’ll give yourself a concussion if you’re not careful.” He set her down and took a hard look at her. “Have you done something different with your hair?”

  Shelby backed up a step and yanked on the end of her braid. “I dyed it.”

  “Yes, but it’s black.” He shook his head. “How am I supposed to call you Pansy if you’re not purple?”

  “You don’t?” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “That’s irrelevant. Where’s Beau? I have to talk to him.”

  “Well now, Shelby, he’s not here.” Ollie turned back to the stove and flipped the eggs he was cooking. “Seems to me that you gave up the right to know where he is when you hightailed it out of here.”

  “But that’s because I thought that he and Lena were getting married.”

  Ollie’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Not even if she was the last woman on earth. Oh, no. Lena wasn’t the one he was set on marrying.” He looked over his shoulder at Shelby, his eyes boring into hers. “Not by a long shot.”

  Shelby felt the blood rush from her head and wobbled a bit. “I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

  “Yes, you have.” Ollie pulled out a kitchen chair and pushed her gently into it. “Put your head between your knees and breathe deep.”

  Shelby felt better after a few breaths and sat up, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “I do love him, Ollie. But when I heard Lena saying stuff that only Beau and I would know.” She held her hands palm up. “I don’t know. It felt like I was betrayed and that he’d lied the whole time.”

  Ollie sat the plate of eggs and toast in front of her. “Eat that.”

  “I don’t have time, Ollie.” She pushed it away. “I’ve got to get down to Bishop. Anne is going to sell her property today. She won’t have anywhere to live.”

  He pushed it right back in front of her and handed her a fork. “Eat it anyway. You’ll need your strength.”

  She grabbed the fork from him—only because her stomach was growling—and polished off the meal in a minute flat.

  “Tell Beau.” Shelby paused, thinking about what she wanted to say. “Tell Beau that I was wrong. I need his help, but I understand if he doesn’t want to give it.”

  “I’m not an answering service, Shelby.”

  “Please Ollie,” begged Shelby. “I need you to do this for me.”

  He rolled his eyes but finally agreed. Shelby stood on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Be careful on the road.” Ollie grabbed the plate and fork and took them to the sink. “It’s gonna rain later today.”

  Shelby barely heard him as she hurried out the door. She had to get to Bishop before that meeting started.

  Beau leaned against the armrest as he drove back to the ranch. He’d made one run out to the cattle on the far pasture and was thinking of bringing them in. As he pulled onto the gravel driveway, a little sedan came hurtling toward him. He jerked the wheel to the side, barely missing it.

  “What the?” He looked in the rearview mirror, but it was already gone. Was that? “No, couldn’t be.” He shook his head and chalked it up to not enough caffeine and lack of sleep. He hadn’t had a decent night’s rest since Shelby left. He pulled up to the house and saw his father in the rocking chair out front on the porch.

  “What are you doing out here?” Beau stopped on the steps leading up to the house.

  “Just enjoying the morning, son.” Ollie rocked back and forth, a serene look on his face.

  “You know, I think I just saw Shelby pull out of here.” Beau jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “But it couldn’t have been. She had black hair. It was the strangest thing.”

  “You did see Shelby pull out of here,” agreed Ollie. “And it was strange, no doubt about that. But what do you care? You’re over her. Said so yourself days ago.”

  Beau felt a tingle go down his back. It was Shelby. Then the hurt came back and drowned his joy.

  “So what? She left town.” And me. “Decided to believe a lie rather than trust me and what we were building together.”

  “Seems to me that goes both ways.” Ollie rocked back in the chair, his foot pushed against the ground to hold him in place. “You had a chance to tell her how you felt but didn’t. She needed to hear it from you. That you—of all the men in this town—held her in the highest esteem. Enough to love her and care for her. But you didn’t, and it made her unsure of herself.” Ollie let himself down and began rocking again. “Of course she believed the lie. You set her up for it.”

  Beau’s heart clenched. Had he done that? Memories of all the times he could have confirmed how he felt rolled through his mind like a movie reel. He hated it when his dad was right.

  “Okay, if I set her up for accepting the lie, how do I fix it?” He bounded up the steps. “She was here, and now she’s gone again. I still can’t get her on the phone. Did she say anything? At all?”

  “Well let’s see.” Ollie held one finger up. “Anne’s selling her property.” The second finger popped up. “She’s sorry she didn’t believe you.” The third finger unfolded. “She loves you very much.”

  Beau slumped against the front door. “She said that?”

  Ollie shrugged. “No accounting for taste.”

  Beau blinked, realizing what his dad also said. “What do you mean Anne’s selling her property?”

  “Just what I said. She’s selling her property. If I had to guess, probably to pay off medical bills.” Ollie pushed himself out of the rocking chair and walked down the steps. “Seems like Shelby wants your help with the situation. Anne’s down in Bishop selling it off to Jackson.”

  “How do you know that?” Beau hurried after his father and stopped dead when his dad slid into the driver’s seat. “You do realize that this is my truck, right?”

  “Anne told me.” Ollie slammed the truck door in Beau’s face. He rolled the window down. “And yes, I do realize it’s your truck. Get in on the other side. Time’s a’ wastin’.”

  Beau didn’t have to be told twice. He hopped in the other side, and they were speeding down the highway after Shelby.

  “Do you think Anne has a good lawyer?” Beau stared out the window, disconcerted sitting on the passenger side of the truck.

  “I know she has.” Ollie stared straight ahead and then glanced over once at Beau. “Me.”

  Beau frowned at his dad. “Stop joking around, Dad. If Anne sells that property to Jackson, she’ll get the short end of the stick. He’s slippery, and she needs a lawyer to help her.”

  “I am serious, son.” Ollie leaned against his arm against the window. “Got my law degree, sat the bar. Just like all the other lawyers.” He scratched his chin. “Course I had to do it all at night while I was workin’.”

  Beau buried his face in his hands. “She’s going to lose it all.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ollie’s tone was dry as the sands in the Mojave Desert. “I’ll try to do my best.”

  Beau shook his head and began to pray for them all.

  Shelby rushed through the front door of the sleek office building, the sign outside declaring it “Jackson Enterprises.
” She surveyed the room and hurried to the front desk where a blonde secretary chewed her gum, snapped it every few seconds, and twirled back and forth on her chair.

  “May I help you?” The woman had a twang to her voice that grated on Shelby’s ear.

  “My…” Shelby stumbled over what to call Anne. In for a penny in for a pound. “Mom, Anne Morris, is meeting with Mr. Jackson. I’m late for it. Which room are they meeting in?”

  Forgive the lie, Lord.

  The blonde pulled out a thick appointment book and began to flip through its pages. She scrunched up her perky nose and shook her head. “There’s no one on here by that name.” Shelby’s shoulders slumped. They weren’t here, and she had no idea where else they could be. “But I do have a Peter Jameson meeting with Mr. Jackson at nine.”

  Shelby looked at the clock on the wall behind the secretary’s head. It read nine o’clock. “Peter is my uncle. I need to be in that meeting with him.” She started walking down the only hallway visible from the foyer. “Is it this way?” And trotted away from the secretary, listening for voices.

  “Hey, you can’t do that!” the secretary raced after Shelby, who had reached the end of the hallway. She heard Peter’s nasally laugh and launched herself in that direction.

  “Wait! That’s a private meeting,” yelled the secretary.

  Shelby threw herself through the door just as the secretary grabbed her arm. They tumbled into the office together, causing all the laughter to stop.

  “Good grief is that you Shelby?” Anne pulled Shelby off the ground. “It is you!” She hugged Shelby’s neck.

  “I’m sorry Mr. Jackson. She got away from me.” The blonde glared at Shelby before tugging her short skirt down into place. “I’ll have security escort her from the premises.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Sonja.” Jackson leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach. “Best if she’s here for this, anyway.”

  Sonja gave Shelby one more glare before pulling the door shut behind her, leaving just Jackson, Peter, and Ann in the room with Shelby.

  Shelby hugged Anne back and pulled away. “So, what’d I miss?” Sat in the seat next to Anne.

  “She’s signing over part of the property to me,” replied Jackson, before Anne could even open her mouth. Shelby pressed her lips together. “Anne hasn’t signed the paperwork yet, though. But you’re welcome to try to talk her out of it.”

  “Jackson wants to expand his holdings in our area. If I sell to him, not only does the property stay in the family, we’ll be making some money, too.”

  Shelby shook her head. “I don’t understand how that works.”

  “It’s like an annuity.” Peter’s shifted in his chair. “He gets the property and all rights to it, but he pays her a percentage of his profits once a year. It’s a win-win for both of them.”

  Shelby narrowed her eyes at Peter. “And how big is your cut of the pie? I’m sure that you didn’t introduce these two for free.”

  Peter’s smile was oilier than a french fry hopper. “Nothing saying that I can’t make a little something for facilitating this deal.”

  Shelby shuddered and turned to Anne. “Listen. You don’t have to sell the property.” She picked up one of Anne’s hands, so very cold in her own, and chafed it to bring warmth back to her fingers. “I’ve made enough at the gallery to cover most of our expenses for the next few months. The sale of the property isn’t needed.”

  Anne beamed at her. “I’m so proud of you, Shelby.” She squeezed Shelby’s hand once and let go. “And I really am humbled that you would do that for me.” She patted Shelby’s hand, laying on the armrest. “The thing is that this isn’t about us. You’re young and tend to fall on your feet when knocked over. It might not be fun, but you’re good at getting back up.” She leaned over and whispered, “This is about Peter. He needs this sale to go through—if only to convince himself he’s not useless.”

  She shifted back in her chair and smiled at Jackson. “I’m ready to sign those papers. Just want to read over them before I do.”

  “Of course.” Jackson produced the papers and set them in front of Anne with a large fountain pen. “Make sure to sign where I’ve highlighted in yellow.”

  Anne nodded and bent over the paperwork to review it. Peter caught Shelby’s eye over Anne’s bent back and smirked at her. Shelby turned around and stared blankly at the wall. Please, Lord. Just as you delivered the Jews from the Egyptians, Daniel from the lion’s den, and David from Goliath, deliver us from this awful situation. In your Son’s name, amen.

  The door flew open, hitting the wall. They all whipped around to find Beau filling the doorway. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

  Shelby leaned forward, heart drumming in her chest. Beau shifted his gaze from Jackson to her—and then winked. She thought her heart stopped in that moment. He’d winked at her. She felt herself go warm and when she placed one trembling hand to her cheek, felt it hot with a blush.

  “Yes, it’s a private party,” shouted Jackson. “You get out of here now before I call security.”

  “Can’t kick us out.” Ollie sauntered past Beau. “We’ve been invited.”

  “By who?” Peter was out of his chair, hopping mad. Literally hopping. He jumped from one foot to the other, face red.

  Beau hooked a chair for his father and then grabbed one for himself and sat behind Shelby and Anne.

  “By my client. Anne, darlin’, have you read that contract?” Ollie leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Did you sign anything?”

  “No, dear, not yet. Thought I’d wait for my lawyer to appear.” She handed him the contract. Ollie pulled out a pair of readers and perched them on his nose. “Let’s see here.” He began to mumble and nod to himself. Finally, he folded it up and gave it back to Anne. “Just like we thought.” Ollie reached into his jacket and pulled out another paper and gave it to Anne. “If you’d do the honors, darlin’.”

  Anne gave him a sweet smile and placed the paperwork on Jackson’s desk. “What’s this?”

  “This is the addendum to the contract.” Ollie plucked the readers off his nose. “It states that you get the land and the trees but not the cottage or immediate land around it. That goes to Shelby Matthews.”

  Shelby swayed in her seat. “Anne, you can’t do that.”

  “It’s my property, dear, I can do what I want with it.”

  Jackson gave him a withering look and snapped open the addendum to the contract. He read it over and then threw it on the desk, a snarl marring his face. “I won’t do it. I’d rather rot in hell than give that woman,” he pointed his finger at Shelby, “a handout.” He placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “You shouldn’t have turned me down.”

  “So, the answer is no?” Ollie cocked his head to the side.

  “I wouldn’t touch that addendum with a ten-foot pole.” Jackson crossed his arms, an ugly look on his face. “Doesn’t matter, though. I’m the only one who has the money to buy the property.”

  “Actually.” Beau sat relaxed in his chair. Shelby wanted to shake him to get him to understand the gravity of the situation. He looked like he was bored with the proceedings. “There is someone else who’ll buy the property.”

  “Not anyone in our family with the money,” snarled Peter. He’d sat down again but still jittered in the chair.

  “Not yet anyway.” Ollie raised his eyebrow. “But we can chat about that outside.” He helped Anne to her feet. She didn’t protest, so Shelby let it go. Apparently, Anne and Ollie had outmaneuvered them all.

  “Wait a minute,” yelled Jackson. “We’re not through here. I’ve got investors waiting on that land.”

  Anne stopped, pulling her elbow from Ollie’s grip. “Your investors. Your money. You aren’t seeing the bigger picture, Dale. This was never about you.”

  “Get out,” growled Jackson, menace in every chopped syllable. “If you’re not off my property in five minutes, I’ll have you arrested for
trespassing.”

  Anne gave Jackson a Madonna-like smile and allowed Ollie to usher her out of the room. Beau stepped aside to let Shelby pass, but still close enough that she could feel the heat from his body as she went out the door. She felt tight, a bowstring pulled as far as it would go.

  They met at Shelby’s car, with Peter bringing up the rear. His skin was sheet white, and his eyes darted back and forth. Shelby took a closer look at him and shook her head.

  “Peter, you okay?”

  His gaze whipped to hers and he focused on her with laser precision. “You.” He wound up his arm and let his fist fly. Beau stepped forward, pushing Shelby out of the way. She stumbled but caught herself. Ollie held Peter’s arms, while Beau rubbed his jaw.

  “What in the world has gotten into you, Peter?” Anne stepped forward, leaning on her cane.

  “It’s her fault!” He jabbed his head at Shelby. “She’s ruined it all. All that money we was about to make gone now because she wouldn’t leave. She glommed on to you like a bad penny—and I want her gone!”

  A thin line of drool slipped from the corner of Peter’s mouth. Shelby took a step back from Peter and turned her head so she wouldn’t have to see the hatred in his eyes. “I didn’t know. I thought it was just rivalry for Anne’s affections. I didn’t mean to come between them.”

  Beau stepped between her and Peter. “Shelby look at me.” She shook her head. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “It isn’t your fault. Peter’s expectations were never Anne’s. You’ve been a good friend—a good daughter—for a long time.”

  She shook her head. “If that were true, Anne wouldn’t have tried to sell the property in the first place.”

  Beau gave her a half smile. “Sometimes, parents do weird things. Like, go to law school.”

  “I heard that,” muttered Ollie.

  “But they want the best for us. Just like Anne wants the best for you.” He looked over his shoulder at Peter, no longer struggling in Ollie’s grip, and then back down at her. “And I want the best for you too. What Lena did was inexcusable, and I’m …”

 

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