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Will studied Garn Prescott over the rim of his glass. The memory of his father’s hatred for old Ferg Prescott went as deep as Texas soil. Will had no love, let alone trust, for Ferg’s son—especially after seeing Garn drooling over Tori at the funeral. But these were new times, and in a changing world, cooperation was the only hope of gaining that canyon land back.
“So what can I do for you, Garn?” he asked.
“It’s like you to get right to the point, Will.” Prescott was beginning to show his age. His silvery hair was thinning on top and his skin was speckled with sunspots. How old was he? Fifty-four? Fifty-five? Too old for Tori, that was for damned sure, Will thought.
Prescott took a sip of his bourbon and licked his lips. “As you know, I’m running for reelection.”
“I’m aware of that,” Will said. “And I’m aware that you’ve won the past eight elections by a landslide. Is there any reason to worry this time around?”
Prescott stretched his legs in front of himself. His cowboy boots were immaculate—definitely not the boots of a working rancher. “It’s not so much about the election as the nomination,” he said. “The conservative wing of the party’s growing. There’s talk of squeezing me out in favor of a candidate who’ll voice their views. You know I’ve always stood up for the ranchers, Will.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve voted for you.” Will could guess where this was leading.
“This time around I’m going to need more than your vote.”
“Want to be more specific?”
“The Tylers have a lot of prestige in this district. A public endorsement could make a big difference. So could a cash contribution if you can spare it.”
Will’s fingers stroked the surface of the cut glass. “And what’s in it for me, besides having a friend in Congress?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Prescott looked surprised. As usual, he’d expected something for nothing.
Will shook his head. “You can have my support, Garn, but in return, I want you to right an old wrong. Thirty years ago, my father was forced to sell your father a piece of ranch property—that little canyon with the spring. Do you know the place I mean?”
“Yes. The one with the Spanish gold.”
“Which your father never found. I want to buy it back—for a fair price that you can keep as my contribution to your campaign. Sell it to me, and you’ll get my public endorsement as well.”
Prescott downed the rest of his bourbon. “Sorry, Will, but I can’t do that. The syndicate—”
“No excuses. I checked the records. The land is yours, not the syndicate’s. It’s too steep for cattle. You don’t need the water, and we both know the gold was nothing but a tall tale. So why not let me buy it back? That way we both get what we want.”
The congressman sighed in regret. “It’s not that simple. On his deathbed my father made me promise that I would keep that land in the family. That’s why the syndicate doesn’t own it.”
Will suppressed the urge to swear out loud. He should have expected something like this. Either Ferg Prescott had locked down that land to spite the Tylers or he’d still believed the Spanish gold was there, maybe both.
The two men sat in silence for a moment, both of them pondering. “There has to be some way around this,” Will said.
“What does it matter?” Prescott demanded. “If the land’s as worthless as you say it is, why in blazes do you want to buy it?”
“To get it back in the family. It’s the only piece of the ranch that’s ever been sold.”
“So it’s the principle of the thing?”
“More or less. But if you can’t—or won’t—budge on it, you and I have nothing more to say to each other. You’ll get my vote as usual, and that’s it.”
Prescott appeared to be studying his manicured nails. “I’d sell it to you in a minute, Will, but my hands are tied. You do have access to a legal expert. Maybe I could ask Tori—”
“Leave Tori out of this!” Will snapped.
“All right.” Prescott exhaled slowly. “There might be another way, if you’d be willing to make a long-range bet.”
“On what?” Will was instantly suspicious.
Prescott glanced toward the front door, where Beau and Lauren had exited earlier. “Your brother’s a bachelor with half interest in your ranch. And I have a beautiful, spirited daughter with a great deal to offer a man. What would you say to giving me your support in exchange for my promise that, when Lauren marries, I give her that little canyon as a wedding gift?”
CHAPTER 8
