He shook his head. “Impossible.”
There were too many reasons why that wasn’t an option. The biggest of those reasons was that his three brothers each owned homes on this land. They were far enough apart to each maintain their own privacy, yet when he needed them to help out, they could be here in a matter of minutes.
“Because of the other homes,” she said.
Oh. She knew about that?
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m staying in your brother’s house. We’ve been messaging.”
He instantly understood. “Jared. Yes, he’s been renting his house out while he’s overseas.”
“Serving his country,” she added. “Very honorable.”
Clay looked out the big picture window that provided a view of the mountains. Jared was no doubt too busy to dig into the motivation of everyone who wanted to stay on his property. Still, it would be nice if someone could vet these renters a little.
“Jared is coming back very soon,” he said. “At which point, he’ll want to stay in his home when he’s on leave. In the meantime, he has it on one of those vacation rental sites to bring in extra money.”
“Very smart guy,” she commented. “You have two other brothers, as well. One works in corporate law and the other is a real estate agent.”
What else did this woman know? “You’ve done your research. So you know that my brother Reilly has his real estate license. If it were wise to sell, we would have sold.”
“Not necessarily.” A hint of a smile played on her lips. “Could I show you something?”
He frowned. This sounded like a bad idea. But she was staring right at him, holding his gaze, and it was doing weird things to his willpower. He found himself speaking a word that his brain didn’t approve.
“Sure.”
Taking that as her cue to shift into overdrive, she stood and began emptying items from her tote bag. Paperwork. Lots and lots and lots of paperwork.
His eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you use a laptop?”
She continued to dig. “I prefer things the old-fashioned way. Nothing like pen and paper to really think things through. There’s just something about having it all laid out in front of you, right?”
She stopped spreading papers out to look at him. He realized he’d been sitting back, watching the whole show, without thinking about contributing to the conversation.
“I use my tablet to manage the ranch,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t like clutter.”
With a furrowed brow, she looked around his kitchen, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. His avoidance of clutter explained the clean, classy home decor that surrounded them.
His parents were to credit for that. He’d left the house exactly as it had been when he’d returned home to temporarily help out. This was supposed to be temporary, but now that he was staying, he could make this place his own a little. Maybe take down the stuff about ‘home’ and ’family’ and ‘love’ and put up some fake deer heads or whatever a man was supposed to have hanging on his walls.
Although, if he admitted it to himself, he kind of liked the signs his parents had chosen. They reminded him that he was here to help out his family. They kept him focused on the fact that no matter how much some Seattle woman offered him to sell his property, there were things much, much, much more important than money.
She found the papers she was looking for. “These are the plans for the area surrounding your property. Notice anything?”
He returned his attention to the documents on the table. There was a large one she’d unfolded and spread out, and it looked like a map. Standing, he hovered over it. Indeed, it was a map of the area. His ranch was colored in a dark shade of brown
“Did you do this?” he asked.
“What?”
“Color these areas.”
She looked down. “Yes, but just for emphasis. It’s not like I spend my weekends with crayons or anything.”
“Nothing wrong if you did,” he said. “Brown for dirt, like ranch dirt, I assume? And why’s this area pink?”
“Urbanification,” she said.
“Urbanification. That’s not a word.”
“It is. You know what it means, correct?”
“I can gather from this.” He pointed to the documents in front of them. The pink area demonstrated where a mixed-use development had recently been approved. Condos, stores, and businesses—all just across from where his land was. With that would soon come even more restaurants and shops.
“This is the new subdivision they’re already building.” She pointed to a lavender-shaded area that was at the exact point where his land ended. He’d been expecting a knock on his door from that particular group of developers, but instead, he’d gotten this so-called land consultant.
Come to think of it, maybe she was working for them.
She pointed toward an area that still belonged to Chuck Varney. “They’ll buy up all this property next.”
Chuck, like Clay and his brothers, had multiple homes on the same property. In fact, they were what inspired Clay’s parents to build homes for each of their kids. They’d envisioned a time when the three brothers would raise their families here. They’d even left an empty plot of land for Clay to build a home eventually, if he ever decided to return home. But then they’d visited some friends in Florida and decided they wanted to move there.
“Eventually they’ll run out of room,” Harley was saying. “You’re closer to where the bypass exit will be, so it makes far more sense to build Phase Three here rather than search for land farther away.”
Made sense. Didn’t mean he was any more inclined to sell, though. Some multimillionaire developer’s ability to build a massive subdivision was not his concern.
“And when they come calling, I’ll tell them what I’m telling you,” he finally said after staring at the map a while. “This land is not for sale. Never will be, as long as I have something to say about it.”
“Mr. Briscoe, I can assure you, everything is for sale. For the right price.”
“That’s true when it comes to things. Cedar Tree Ranch is more than land. I grew up here, as did my brothers. This is family. This is home.”
For the longest time, she just stared at him, saying nothing. He half-expected her to ridicule him for sounding like a greeting card. Instead, she cocked her head slightly and looked at him with an expression he could only describe as respectful. “And having your family nearby is part of that?” she asked.
“You’ve got it.”
“The money you could get for this property would buy you four spectacular houses on prime land closer to the mountains,” she said. “You’d have the same thing not far from here, without all the traffic congestion this growth is going to bring to the area.”
“Yeah, I get it.” And he did, but that wasn’t going to happen. Ever. So he should send her on her way. It was the right thing to do. No doubt, any second now she’d figure out this was a waste of time and pack up her belongings. He found himself wanting to delay that as long as possible.
She cocked her head adorably. “Pretty soon, this ranch will be in the middle of a suburban area, which will make no sense. You’ll have to deal with kids stealing your tomatoes—”
“I don’t grow tomatoes,” he said. “This is Montana. And it’s a ranch, not a farm. We have cattle and a few chickens. I could give you a tour—”
“That would be great!” she said in a burst of enthusiasm that startled him. He hadn’t expected her to take him up on it.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “I’m having some dinner and turning in for the night. Do you need help getting settled in at Jared’s house?”
She stood, taking the silent cue to leave. “I have a code. But I’m going to leave this map here for you to review. I’ll be back first thing in the morning for that tour.”
What he should do was hand her the map, cancel plans for the tour, and wish her luck with her future ventures. Maybe he could even point her Chuck Varne
y’s way. He was no more likely to sell than Clay and his brothers, but at least she’d be someone else’s salesperson to shake.
But he didn’t do any of that. Instead, he stood, offered to walk her to the door, and watched her go when she declined. He even halfway hoped she’d glance back over her shoulder at him as she exited the kitchen. That would let him know she was attracted to him, too.
She didn’t do that. But that didn’t stop him from continuing to hope. It was a matter of pride, he told himself. The last thing he needed was a romantic entanglement. He had too much to do around here to deal with that distraction.
3
No. This wasn’t possible.
As many chats as she’d had with Clay’s little brother, he couldn’t once mention that his house was pretty much in Clay’s back yard? She hadn’t figured it out until she’d taken the long drive back to the main road, made a left turn, and spotted the street number for Jared’s house on the mailbox just inches from Clay’s.
Another long dirt-road drive and here she was, parked directly in front of the most charming log cabin she’d ever seen. The online pictures didn’t do it justice. The only problem was the house she’d just left was right there. There was a window directly facing the house where she’d be sleeping.
She stepped out of the car, this time closely staring at the ground. Her ballet flats were on her back floorboard, resting atop some junk mail she’d meant to throw away. Procrastination paid off when you had poop on your shoe, turned out. She reached into the back seat and grabbed the flats, along with her overnight bag. She’d unpack the rest in the morning, with the advantage of daylight.
Trying to ignore the house to her left, Harley began her brisk walk toward the porch. She’d leave her flats out here and figure out how to clean them in the morning. Surely there was a hose out here somewhere. If not, maybe a big cup of water mixed with dish soap or something. She wasn’t sure how much water it would take for her to put those shoes on without thinking about cow patties.
The code was in the pocket of her jeans. She slipped it out and used the flashlight on her phone to illuminate the keypad on the doorknob. Just four quick numbers and she’d be inside. She’d make a big cup of hot tea and watch some cheesy movies until bedtime. The perfect ending to a long, exhausting day.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. Silence. The buttons made the noise when she pressed them, but nothing lit up or clicked or anything. She was pretty sure something was supposed to light up or click.
She tried again. And again. Four beeps and silence. She turned the knob, tried a mix of turning the knob and inputting the numbers in various combinations, and finally gave up with a loud non-expletive.
“Shoot!”
She pulled up the app she’d been using to message Jared. She knew better, though. He was on the other side of the world. He wouldn’t respond until morning. But she found the message that had the code and verified she’d written it down correctly. Yep. It just wasn’t working.
Sighing, she stepped toward the edge of the porch and looked over at the house next door. She wouldn’t even have to get back in her car. She just needed to get her sneakers out of her overnight bag because no way was she walking over there barefoot.
As she thought about digging her shoes out, though, movement in that window caught her eye. Was he...watching her?
A few seconds later, annoyed by the fact that he was no longer in the window, she jammed her feet into her sneakers, tied the laces, and marched toward his house. If this Clay guy was going to spy on her, the least he could do was help her when she was obviously stranded.
But that wasn’t what fueled her angry walk. It was her frustration with Jared for giving her a defective security code. What if Clay hadn’t been home? She would have been stranded.
Clay came from around the front of her house, strolling toward her like they were just meeting for a chat. No rush, nothing weird here. Just two strangers meeting at the fence on what had to be the chilliest night ever.
Probably not the chilliest. But she’d left her coat in the car. She was supposed to be brewing her hot tea right now.
“Something wrong?” Clay asked. It was dark, but it sure looked like he had a smile on his face. Annoying.
She crossed her arms across her chest, both out of annoyance and to ward off the chill. “The code isn’t working. I need the key.”
“What makes you think I have a key to Jared’s house?”
He stopped at the fence, staring across it at her. The moon was just bright enough for her to see him at this distance.
She glared. “Not funny.”
“I don’t. Have you tried texting him?” His face was dead serious. He didn’t have a key? Someone had to.
“I don’t know what time it is there, but I can try to message him through the app.”
“Let me give the code a go.”
Clay hopped over the fence. Yes, hopped. Like it was nothing.
She stepped back and watched, jaw gaping, as he strode straight to the front porch of his brother’s house.
Her…hero?
Not that she needed one. She could pick a lock…probably. She’d watched a video on it once. But she had come over here for help, so she couldn’t blame him for offering that help. She just didn’t like the fact that his heroic measures were drawing her to him.
Ugh.
“Code?” he called out as she approached.
She didn’t even have to glance at her cheat sheet. She had it memorized already. She heard the beep-beep-beep-beep as he pressed the buttons on the pad, followed by absolutely nothing.
Letting out a grunt of frustration, he entered the code again. And again.
“I’ve tried it multiple times,” she said. “It’s just not working.”
While standing there, she’d typed a message to Jared, hoping maybe he was having a sleepless night or something. Trying was the least she could do.
“I’m trying other codes,” Clay said. “His birthdate, his graduation date, the day he left for service…”
“Social Security number!” Harley offered excitedly.
He stopped punching numbers and turned to look at her. The look made it clear he did not know his brother’s Social Security number because…why would he?
“Yeah,” she said. “No response from your brother. I’ll just go find a hotel for the night. I passed one on the way here. Thanks for your help.”
She grabbed her overnight bag, ready to head toward the car. Getting away from here for the night would be good for her. She could catch her breath, come up with a strategy, and return tomorrow morning, ready to close this deal.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have four extra bedrooms I never use. One even has its own bathroom. Total privacy. Come on.”
She was already at the bottom of the stairs when she realized he was right behind her. She turned to look at him and suddenly realized he was far closer than she’d expected.
“It’s okay,” she said, walking backward toward her car, hoping there were no surprise cow poop piles along the way. “I have a bunch of work to do anyway. A hotel will work better.”
“Nonsense.” Clay had pivoted to the right and was well on the way to his house.
She could just keep going toward her car, climb in, and head off to the hotel. What would he do? But it felt like refusing his generous offer to share his house with her, a complete stranger, would make it harder to get a ‘yes’ when it came to selling this place.
A ‘yes’ was the whole reason she was here in the first place. Plus, she kind of liked the adventure that came with following him to his house.
“Should I bring my car?” she called out.
He somehow managed to continue walking forward while looking back at her. Obviously, he knew where all the piles of poop were on this property. No surprise. Maybe he could draw her a map.
“Not necessary,” he said. “Unless you don’t want to walk.”
That sounded like a challenge. She was always up for a challenge.
“It’s just—my stuff is in my car.”
He’d arrived at the fence. He climbed over with the same ease he’d shown before. “Do you need it tonight?”
She didn’t. In the morning, there would be a notification in her email that Jared had replied to her message on the vacation rental site. She’d get the correct code, unlock his door, and have the cozy, two-bedroom cabin all to herself for the remaining day and night she planned to be here.
Just forty-eight hours to convince Clay to sell. She was pretty sure she could do it.
But right now, she was stuck. She couldn’t even figure out how to get across this fence he’d pretty much just stepped over. The last thing she wanted to do was ask for help. She had to get over this thing before he realized she wasn’t right behind him.
Tossing her overnight bag to the other side, she grabbed onto the top fence post and put her foot on the bottom one. Then she climbed. She was so focused on not falling on her butt, she didn’t realize he was watching her until she’d hiked her first leg over. There was no graceful way to do this. She looked silly, like it or not.
“Need help over there?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said, trying to sound much more laidback than she felt. She’d climbed plenty of fences in her childhood. She was just a little out of practice, that was all.
This was far easier before she knew he was watching her. Suddenly, with his eyes on her, she’d become ten times clumsier.
“Give me your hand.” At some point, he’d closed the distance between him and was holding that muscled arm out.
No. She was determined to show she could hold her own, whether she was on a ranch near the Montana mountains or standing in line at a Seattle coffee shop.
“Got it,” she said as she swung the second leg over and hopped down. She picked up her overnight bag, straightened, and looked him the eye. “Let’s go.”
She was trying to sound tough. If she didn’t show confidence in her ability to scale short wooden fences, how could she expect him to trust her wisdom when it came to making the most of his land value?
He eyed her. “You sure?”
The Cowboy's Promise Page 2
