Worth The Price (Hart's Fall, Montana)

BOOK: Worth The Price (Hart's Fall, Montana)
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Worth The Price

copyright © 2012, Delilah Hunt

Cover Design: Fantasia Frog Designs

Interior Production: JW Manus

 

 

All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Dear Readers

 

 

 

To my family, thanks for sticking with the loony bird.

Julia Rachel Barrett, you are one hell of a woman and writer, thanks for all your guidance and friendship.

Jaye Manus, thanks for all the invaluable input you’ve given me and all of your time.

To my readers, you all make writing a pleasure!

Worth the Price

 

 

Danika Prescott you turn around and run. This instant.
Frozen in place, Danika felt a telltale tremble in her knees. Even if her legs had been in the mood to obey her brain and give her a quick, albeit embarrassing escape, she had to stay. Her course was set. She had no choice but to confront Brandon Sharpe, who at this moment was seated atop his mount with an ever deepening scowl, miraculously visible behind the bush of hair on his face. He reminded her more of a wild bear than a man. Or maybe just a maniac determined to run her down.

He kept coming at her, urging the stallion at a breakneck speed despite her standing in plain sight. In mid-action of her stepping back, the horse stopped short and whinnied inches before her face. Danika lifted her head. The scowl on his face had transformed into an outright glare pinned directly on her.

“What was the point of that?” She scowled right back, her fear forgotten for the moment. Just because she was on his turf didn’t mean he had to lord it over her.

Peering down on her, Brandon gathered up the horse’s reins, curling them around his meaty fist. “Would love to know what you’re doing on my property.”

The bravado she’d felt diminished by the second beneath his icy gaze. “Well, good evening to you too, Brandon.”
Think of your father, Dani. Everything he did for you. All alone.
She stretched her lips into a smile, waiting and hoping he’d respond in kind.

Her effort seemed to irritate him even more. She heard him mutter a curse beneath his breath. The glare reverted into a scowl. Progress. Her shoulders sagged.

“Why are you on my ranch?”

His uncompromising tone forced her to remind herself again that he was her last chance of helping the one person in the world she had left as family. Her father had spent and wasted so much money on her, the loss of a bit of pride could never compare. Delving her hands in the back pocket of her white denim shorts, she drew in a breath and asked, “Would it be possible for us to go somewhere else and talk?”

Brandon’s eyebrows shot upward. “That important? Don’t tell me your da is too busy these days to try to run me into the ground with threats, he has to send you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this out here.”

His hands tightened around the reins so hard she wondered if the leather left its brand on those callused palms. His blue eyes blazed as his Irish accent thickened with each word spoken. “’Ye don’t want to talk out here?”

Danika gaped, realizing he must have taken great efforts before to conceal his lilt and she just happened to be the person to bring it out in full force. He must have noticed the expression on her face because immediately she saw him close his eyes, exhaling a rough breath.

“What do you want to discuss?”

“It’s about my father. Wait, don’t look like that,” she added at the visible tensing of his muscles. I just want you to know, you don’t have anything to worry about from him.”

She waited for a reaction from him, anything but the appalling look of boredom that shadowed his harsh, almost ruthless features.

“I’m supposed to believe you came all the way out here to say this? How about you cut the bullshit and tell me the truth.”

No such thing as subtlety huh, Brandon?
she thought in annoyance. “You’re right. There is more to it, but I would prefer to discuss this somewhere private.”

He peered down at her. Chin raised, she stared right back until he gave a sharp tug on the reins and averted his gaze. “Is inside the house private enough for you or do I have to check for wire taps before you’ll set foot inside?”

“The house is fine. No need to be rude, either.”

His icy gaze held hers. “Don’t I?” He pushed the mount forward, allowing her no chance to reply. She trailed after him and entered the stable, where he led the horse into a stall lined with hay and a feeding tray at the front. His movements were unhurried, languid even as if he wanted to prolong the time needed to avoid talking to her.

Observing in silence, she watched him check to make sure the latches of each stall were secured and took her time surveying the dim barn.

“You have a lot of horses, Brandon. They’re very beautiful. I guess it must be nice to live on a ranch.”

His head shifted to look at her. She noticed that his lips were drawn into a tight line. “The horses are all right. Nothing special.”

She continued to look around the barn, fascinated by the signs of the amount of work it took to run the ranch. Just taking care of the barn alone seemed like a ton load of work.

“Enjoying the smell of manure?” he said. “Nothing like being inside a musty old barn to end your day eh?”

Danika blinked at the outright animosity in his voice. She lifted a shoulder and brushed past him. “It’s a stable. I never expected it to smell like lavender and roses.”
So much for small talk.

He said nothing else to her until they made it to the house. As he held the door open, she noticed he kept a wide berth from her. She tried not to feel insulted because Brandon was just being Brandon.

“May I sit down?”

He took his time hanging the brown Stetson hat on a wooden rack by the door. “Yeah. Sure thing,” he mumbled, still paying more attention to his blasted hat than her. Danika settled on the sofa. Just because he didn’t want to look at her didn’t mean she was above checking him out. His face was at an angle as he straightened and re-straightened the hat. Without the hat, she knew he felt naked in spite of the shaggy beard blanketing a fraction of the mass of visible scar tissue. Right now she was getting a rare view of Brandon.

Slowly she noted a subtle change in him. His spine straightened, broad shoulders square as if preparing for battle. A hard grimace bracketed his features before he turned to her. “Does your da know you’re over here?”

She shook her head. “No. I usually get home from work around this time, so I told him I’d stop off to visit a friend.”

“I take it lying runs rampant in your family?”

She bristled with indignation. It was a harmless lie. “I’m not a dishonest person, Brandon Sharpe, and I dare you to give me one instance, apart from now that is, of me lying.”

His nostrils flared and a muscle inside his jaw ticked. “You’re right, seeing as how I recall you giving me a full dose of your honesty a while back.”

Danika grimaced. She wanted to bury her head in dirt. “That wasn’t fair of you to bring that up.”

His eyes flashed. “Fair? You want to discuss fair, little girl. How about you go over the meaning of that word with your father so he’ll understand I got this land fair and square and stop trying to get his grubby hands on my property.”

She stared at him, dumbstruck. His anger was palpable, the only emotion it seemed strong enough to draw a meaningful reaction from him.

“But that’s what I came to talk to you about,” she rushed on. “Despite what happened between the two of you, my father is no longer in a position to cause any problems for you.” Danika regarded him with a gentle look. “I don’t know the full details of why you’re both at each other’s throat, but I will tell you this, Brandon if there was anything I could have done earlier to prevent any ills you and your ranch have suffered because of my dad, I would have. Truth be told, I’ve been pleading with him since last year to give up his obsession with owning the Bar S. You know, cut his losses and move on.”

Brandon snorted. “I’m sure you did.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. What matters is the reason you’re sitting on my sofa right now. That’s what I’m more interested in hearing.”

“Well it matters to me.”

“Why do you care if I believe you?” he asked, issuing her a long-drawn-out stare.

“Because I need you to trust me. If you can’t believe me when I say I tried to talk someone into doing the right thing, then…” Her voice trailed as Brandon’s brows drew close together in a frown.

“Why are you here?” Bear that he was, the question came out as a vicious growl. “No more talking around the subject. Get it out whatever you came to say.”

Danika lifted her shoulders and let out a long, heavy sigh. “My father took some horrible business advice, Brandon. It’s been happening for a long time it seems, ever since many of his construction clients decided to take their business to the bigger cities. I just found out about it but I suspect that’s why he was so dead set on buying this piece of land. He thought venturing into land development would fix everything. He has no idea that I’m aware of the situation or that I spoke with his accountant. It’s gotten so bad, I can see how it’s affecting his health. He’s in deep denial, though. The sad thing is, I’m sure he still thinks there’s a way he can get you to give up the ranch.”

Twin dark eyebrows rose up in confusion. “If you came here to warn me, you’re a bit late. I’ve always known your father was a head case.”

Ignoring the insult, she barged ahead. “He thinks if he can get the Bar S it will solve his problems. But it won’t. At this point I don’t think anything will help my father’s company. His clients are all gone and so are the workers. There’s no money left. He’ll have to file for bankruptcy.”

His lips drew into a tight line. “So far, I’m liking everything you’ve told me. Maybe Prescott will finally clear out of town and leave me the hell alone for once.”

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