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“I don’t know if I’d go that far, but maybe he wanted to, like… have you in a place where you needed his help?”
That complete. Total. And utter asshole.
“I have to go, Kendall.”
“Nora. Wait, don’t?—”
“Thanks. Talk soon, and have fun in Denver.”
I cut the phone off, silencing her protests. Gathering my boots, I stomp to the door and get in my 4Runner.
It’s time to pay a visit to those stupid cowboys and settle this once and for all.
CHAPTER 6
Shane
Someone is absolutely screaming up the driveway. You can see the cloud of dirt from probably a mile away, which is how I notice it from my spot in the farmhouse. The farrier is here, and no one else was scheduled to come up to Wild Spur today.
Frowning, I step out from behind the wall of monitors in front of me. When we moved into the farmhouse here at the Wild Spur, I claimed the top floor attic as mine. It’s a mess of computers, filing cabinets, Wi-Fi routers, and a bed in the corner, but I love it. It’s where I feel the most in control, and that’s what matters.
Landon calls it my evil lair, and Clint pretends it doesn’t exist, but that’s all fine as far as I’m concerned. I might love the two of them to death, but I don’t want them in my space all the time.
Heading down the stairs, which squeak in protest as I go, I walk past Landon right as he’s coming back in. I frown; he looks dusty. “Did you find her?”
“I did.”
“And did you tell her about the contract?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, man, she was about two seconds away from ripping my head off and eating my guts for lunch.”
I roll my eyes. “You probably just needed to be a little firmer with her.”
“Firm? Do you think that hellcat is going to respond to firm?”
I have no idea, but my fingers itch at the prospect of finding out.
“I’ll talk to her,” I grunt, my voice deepening slightly.
Landon’s blue eyes twinkle. “Oh, you want to get firm with her. Easy there, Doctor Evil. We haven’t established territory rights yet.” I give him a baleful look, and he winks at me. “May the best man win, Shane.”
“I will, you little shit.”
Landon laughs, brushing off my insult like it’s nothing. It’s one of the reasons that I like him; no matter how grumpy Clint or I are with him, he’s always down to brush it off and act like nothing happened. It’s something that makes our dynamic work, and I appreciate that.
“Oh, Landon?”
“What?” he calls from the kitchen, where I presume he’s getting a beer.
“Did you have someone coming over today?”
He pokes his head into the living room, where I’m standing in the front window, watching a silver 4Runner that looks like it’s seen better days barrel up the drive. “No, I do not,” Landon says, sipping the beer. “But whoever’s coming over has the fire of hell up their ass.”
“I guess so,” I mutter.
