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“We have all the equipment. We can just provide our own…”
“Fine. Since you want to skip ahead, read to the end.”
I really fuckin’ hate surprises. Skimming through the document, I get to the end.
“You motherfucker.”
Shane explodes into laughter.
“Shane. That’s not nice.”
“I told you that you’d be happy with it, though. Was I wrong?”
Unfortunately, he’s not wrong. Because the document very clearly states that any labor owed at the end of the rental, meaning if we have ‘overpaid’ in terms of what we’re renting back, can be applied in another lease, or toward a purchase. Meaning that they might end up owing us if we lease the land from them.
“They’ll never sign this.”
“They don’t have a choice,” Shane says, his face dropping. “They’re not going to be approved for a loan.”
“You heard back?”
“I have a hunch.” He shrugs. “I can confirm it, but they’re not getting approved for that loan.”
I close the document, and it drops onto the table with a light thud.
“Who’s going to tell them?” Shane gives me another little smirk. I stand, frowning at him. “Oh, no. Fuck off with that. I’m definitely not the one to do that.”
“You’re the best one to explain it,” he rumbles.
“Are you fucking?—”
“I’ll do it,” Landon hops in.
Shane and I both look at him. “What?” I stutter.
“I’ll do it. I’ll bring the contract over there. When should I do it? Today? Tomorrow?”
“My guess is she’ll be finding out later today about the loan,” Shane says.
I glance at him. “She? Or they?”
“Does it matter?”
I suppose it doesn’t, so I shrug.
“Why don’t you go try to fix that fence a little later today, Lan?” I say, giving my friend a quick nod. “Might see if there’s anyone about when you do that.”
“You know, Clint, I think that’s a great idea.”
The farrier is late. As fucking always.
Shane’s in the barn with me, helping to get some of the horses out of their stalls, which is good because I’m getting a little sick of doing this day-to-day shit all by myself. Shane knows how to handle the horses, of course, as we all do, but out of the two of them, he’s probably the least comfortable with it, so I appreciate the gesture.
“We need to hire some more people,” he comments as we’re staring out over the horses gathered in the corral for the farrier.
I snort. “I don’t like the people around here.”
“Dude. Why?”
