Page 18 of The Cowboy’s Reckoning

He appreciated the windfall, but not the circumstances under which he got it, which made it feel like a freaking consolation prize. All he could figure was that Carl Jordan refused to acknowledge him because Jordan had been an unwelcome reminder of a quick affair with his mom, probably when he breezed through the area to either buy or check on his property. Chicago had been the guy’s home forever according to the small amount of personal information Jordan could find online, and he’d been very married at the time of Jordan’s conception.

Jordan also knew little about his mother, but what he’d heard was all good, amplified perhaps because she’d died so young without family other than her four-year-old son. Jordan remembered her. Or so he thought. He knew that his memories might be part truth, part wishful thinking, but he recalled soft words, soft hands, tired eyes. And her smile. He knew from the pictures he had in the slim album, his only connection to that part of his past, that he had inherited that smile. He’d searched the album for photos of a young Carl Jordan, but there’d been no men in any of the pictures. Only his mother and him.

A kitten scampered around the base of the ladder as he descended, then darted out of sight before his feet hit the ground. The little gray and white fur bundle was a lot cuter than the feral teenage kittens Trev’s partner Maclyn had brought to the Tree Fork. Those gangly tabbies looked like they were one step away from forming a street gang and spent most of their time glaring down from high hay bale perches and growling.

Jordan took down the ladder and laid it on its side against the barn as the sound of the approaching ATV grew louder. A few minutes later, Lil drove out of the pasture and zoomed past him, parking beside the small tack shed next to the barn. The big white dog ambled out of the barn to meet her, and she ruffled the dog’s fur after dismounting the quad.

“Get it fixed?” he asked.

“I did,” she replied.

“Wildlife?”

“Only if they’ve developed opposable thumbs. I’m pretty sure the wires were cut.”

He drew his chin in. “No shit.” There were reasons people cut fences, very few of them legitimate. “What about the last break? Were those wires cut too?”

“Couldn’t check. Meg replaced the wire.” She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck and squeezed the muscles there before dropping it again. “This isn’t your concern.”

“Landlord,” he said simply.

“Fences are our responsibility.”

He didn’t know a lot about Lil McAllen, didn’t know if she was the kind who invited revenge tactics, but his gut told him she was not. Maybe the fences weren’t his responsibility, but if someone was screwing with her—

A wild thought shot into his head.

What if Jess Connery had decided to give the McAllen sisters a nudge toward the door, thus earning what had to be a healthy commission? The idea was over the top, but he didn’t know Connery. Maybe he was an over-the-top kind of guy.

He met Lil’s gaze. “Have other things been happening around here?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “We just went over everything that’s gone wrong with the place.”

“Things like the cut wire,” he said. When she frowned, he said, “Why would someone cut your fence, Lil?”

It was the first time he’d used her name, and it felt oddly intimate coming off his tongue.

Lil folded her arms over her chest. “It could just be stupid kids. It probably is stupid kids.”

“Do you have stupid kids in the area?”

She abandoned her defensive stance and pushed the hair away from her face. “I don’t know, honestly. They don’t have to live nearby. It is almost summer. Camping season will soon be in full swing.”

She was right. Sometimes people, especially those who weren’t local to the area, did stupid things for no reason, but despite Lil’s dismissive attitude, she seemed uneasy.

“Lil—”

“Look. I’ve heard you’re a good guy, but this in my problem.”

Jordan cocked his head. “Who said I was a good guy?”

It was obvious from the way her gaze shifted that she hadn’t meant to let the good guy comment slip.

Lil cleared her throat before hesitantly looking back at him. “My friend Aubrey. She went to school with you.”

“Aubrey the accountant?” he asked. “Blond hair? Glasses?”

Obviously, Lil was unaware of the nickname. “I guess? She was with us at the Graff, but her back was to you.”