about all of this—the sale of this ranch was going to fund his retirement.
“After you give her the tour, I’d like you to give her a ride back into Victory,” his boss said, then turned to the young woman. “The land is beautiful. I have a feeling you’re going to fall in love with the place.”
Casey smiled tightly. “What was your name again?”
“Ember,” she said. “Ember Reed.”
“Wait—” Casey’s heart thudded to a stop and then hammered fast to catch up. “Reed... Not as in Reed Land Holdings?”
Ember’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, actually. But I’m not acquiring land for my father’s business. This is a personal purchase.”
“Right.” As if that even mattered. That wealthy family was the money behind the faceless corporate giant that had been gobbling up the land in the county for years. “Sir, could I have a word?”
Mr. Vern’s smile faltered. “Sure. Ember, why don’t you go on outside and check out the view. Casey will be right with you.”
Ember hitched a purse up onto her shoulder and headed out the side door. The screen slammed behind her, and Casey watched her look around for a moment before walking away from the door, affording him some privacy. For good measure, Casey swung the door shut.
“Reed Land Holdings,” Casey said hollowly.
“I need to sell, Casey. You know that.”
“Yeah, but to them?” Casey clenched his teeth. “You’ve seen what they’ve been doing to this county! We used to be family ranches, shoulder to shoulder, until that soulless giant came through and started buying us out. They own sixty percent of the ranch land out here, and you want to turn that into sixty-five?”
“Linda’s care isn’t cheap,” Mr. Vern replied. “And the place she’s in has been going downhill. I need to get her into a better care home.”
Mr. Vern’s wife, Linda, was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s, and Casey could sympathize with his boss’s sense of urgency here.
“Sir, I was coming up here to make you an offer, myself,” Casey said, pulling the folded papers from his pocket. “I’ve talked to the credit union about a mortgage, and with the money I’ve saved and the bit that my dad gave me from the sale of his land, I’ve got enough to make an offer.”
“Oh?” Mr. Vern reached for the papers and scanned them. He nodded twice, then shot Casey an apologetic look. “It’s a fair offer, Casey. And I appreciate it. If all things were equal, I’d rather sell to you, but Miss Reed says that if she likes what she sees, she can offer twenty percent more than this.”
Casey accepted his papers back, emotion closing off his throat.
“I know how this seems,” Mr. Vern went on. “I know what your family lost, and I’m not some heartless cad. You know that. But with Linda’s cost of care going up, I need every penny I can get. This is my chance to retire, spend what time I can with my wife and set things up for my kids to inherit a little something when my time comes. I’m not young anymore. You might as well know that I’m in a lot of debt. Reed Land Holdings did a number on my profits, too. They’ve hurt everyone.”
“But you’re selling to them—”
“I’m not selling to them,” Mr. Vern retorted. “I’m willing to sell to that young lady out there. Like she said, this a personal purchase for her. Nothing to do with her father at all.”
“Funded by him, no doubt,” Casey shot back.
“Who am I to judge where someone gets their money?” Mr. Vern shook his head. “Everyone gets it from somewhere, and I don’t care if I’m paid by a bank or a checking account. I’ve got my own worries, Casey. You have to appreciate that. She’s not adding this to her father’s stash of land—this is for her.”
“Her—” Casey hooked a thumb toward the closed door. “That little blonde with the city heels on her boots and the clothes that look like money. She’s going to ranch this land herself?”
Mr. Vern shrugged weakly. “Whatever she chooses to do with it is her concern. I’ve got Linda to worry about, Casey. I’m sorry.”
And Casey couldn’t argue that point. Mr. Vern loved his wife, and he’d do what he had to in order to get her the care she needed. Casey heaved a sigh.
“I was going to show her around myself, but my old knee is really sore this morning. I need you to show her around,” Mr. Vern went on quietly. “I know it’s a lot to ask right now, but I also know the kind of man you are. I wouldn’t trust this to anyone else, Casey. Besides, she mentioned needing a manager around here. I could make it a stipulation of the sale that you stay employed.”
Mr. Vern was trying to help—Casey could see that much—but he didn’t have any intention of working for a Reed. Ever.
“I’ll do my job, sir,” he replied tightly. “You can count on me for that.”
He headed for the door. Fifteen years was a long time to work this land, circling those fields and cattle like his own personal Jericho walls. Fifteen years was a long time to pray for God to set things right for his family once again.
It looked like he’d be praying for a little while longer.
* * *
Ember turned as the door opened, and that tall, lanky cowboy came back outside. The screen swung slowly shut behind him as he strode into the sunlight and replaced a cowboy hat on his head. He wore a thick vest over his shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up his forearms, revealing solid muscle, and those brown eyes locked on to her somberly—none too glad to see her now that he knew who she was, apparently. He was good-looking in a way she didn’t see too often in the city. He wasn’t clean-cut by a long shot, but he carried himself with an easygoing confidence.
“Miss Reed, I was asked to show you around,” he said. “I’m Casey Courtright, by the way. Ranch manager.”
Ember nodded. “Pleasure to meet you. Call me Ember, though.”
She turned back to drink in the cattle-dotted hills. It didn’t matter which way a person stood on this land, there was a magnificent view from every angle—nothing like her home in Billings. She owned a small apartment in the city—a gift from her father when she graduated with her master’s degree in family counseling. And she loved that little apartment. This land, though—this was a chance at something much bigger... Her mark on the world at long last.
She could see a modern silver barn, a web of roads leading away from it. But farther south, there was a red barn, brilliant against an emerald background of pasture, and it kept drawing her eye. If she did buy this land, that barn would stay. She’d have no use for the other one, though.
“You’re not a country woman, are you?” Casey said, interrupting her reverie.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, casting him a guarded look.
“Your clothes. Those shoes—” Then he nodded in the direction of the picturesque little barn. “The way you look all wistful when you look at barns.”
She smiled, then shook her head. “No, I’m from Billings.”
“So what plans do you have for the ranch?” he asked.
“I’m not even sure this is the right ranch,” she said, and she noticed the tall cowboy stilled at those words. He raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean, the right one?” he asked.
“My family had a homestead around here somewhere, and I want to buy the land they used to live on back in the eighteen hundreds.”
“Oh.” He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, then shrugged. “And how will you know if you’ve found the right land?”
“There