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"I don't know what to do."
Vic huffed. "You know exactly what to do. You'll take over this farm, move in with your pretty girls, and you'll make this old man proud."
"I can't tell your staff—"
"Farmhands."
"See? I don't even know what they're called."
"You, Megan Carlisle, are a smart cookie. You'll figure it out."
She watched her great-grandfather close his eyes again before resting his head back against the pillow.
"Don't... Please... I need you. We have so much more to talk about."
Vic opened one eye and whispered, "Just don’t ever sell the farm. Ask the next-door Moore family for help if you must."
She had no clue what family her great-grandfather talked about, but she would find out soon enough since Vic Carlisle just blew out his last breath.
CHAPTER TWO
Ryan took in his parents on the other side of the kitchen table as they lifted their glasses in memory of Vic Carlisle, the old hermit living in the dilapidated farmhouse on the next-door plot.
“He might have been a loner, but he was a good man,” his father, Roger, said after swallowing his whiskey.
Ryan’s mother, Shauni, nodded before taking a sip.
Ryan put his beer down on the table and cleared his throat. There was no time like the present to address the pink elephant in the room.
“We should go over there tomorrow and talk with his family about—”
Roger clanked his glass down. “No. We’re not bothering the man’s family. We’ll handle things. No need to tell the world about our problems.”
Ryan shared a look with his mother, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Shauni tried to reason with her husband. “Darlin’, maybe—”
Roger shook his head. “No, honey. You know how things work. If the wrong people find out we’re three months behind and that we’re askin’ people to buy some of our horses, we’ll be flooded with men who know more ways to take our money than a roomful of lawyers.”
Ryan sighed.
“What?” Roger said.
Ryan shrugged. “I know this is still your farm and that you only want what’s best for the family, but it’s been months and we’re still not any closer to finding a long-term solution for our lacking cash flow.”
“I already told you we’re not signing the farm over to you as long as we’ve got this debt hanging over our heads.”
Ryan looked up to the ceiling, counting to three in his head. Ryan knew he’d inherited the same stubbornness from his old man, but things were getting out of hand.
“Okay, spit it out,” his father said.
“The longer we wait, the bigger the debt will become. If we wait any longer, you'll never sign the papers. That's just stating facts.”
“Your mother and I have worked decades to make sure you and your five sisters had a roof over your heads, clothes on your backs, and food in your stomachs. We didn’t slack for a day to make this farm one of the greatest just outside Austin, Texas.”
Ryan rubbed his forehead. “I know, Dad. And you and Mom have done a great job.”
“Why are you pushing us, then?” Roger asked.
