At eighty-five, Emmett was the same age as Sadie’s aunt, but he looked older. His shoulders sloped toward the ground as if life’s problems had piled on year after year, weighing him down. Decades of ranching had etched deep crevices across the back of his neck and marked his arms with scaly sunspots.
Sadie surreptitiously studied her aunt. Blue veins crisscrossed the back of her hands, but unlike Emmett’s leathery skin, Amelia’s appeared pearlescent beneath the box light in the ceiling.
During the drive to Paradise Ranch, Aunt Amelia had rambled on about how developers had built single-family-home subdivisions north of the towns of Mesquite and Rocky Point. Stampede was too far away for those families to shop. And with a population that had never exceeded three thousand—even in its heyday—the dusty hidey-hole needed to find a way to survive or it would become nothing more than a ghost town. Which, apparently, was exactly what the old-timers who’d elected Emmett mayor wanted. When Sadie had asked why her aunt hadn’t sought someone else’s help to carry out her plans, she’d grown misty-eyed and said she was trying to involve Emmett because he’d been in a funk for such a long time.
This past summer, Lydia told Sadie that their aunt and Emmett had dated in high school. Sadie couldn’t help wondering if Amelia still carried a torch for the old man and all this fuss over the town was just a ploy to get his attention. Feeling a need to break the silence, she said, “I like that rooster cookie jar on the counter, Emmett.”
“I gave that to Emmett’s wife, Sara, for her birthday years ago,” Amelia said.
“Lydia said you and Sara were best friends.” And that Sara had died of cancer when the Hardell boys were still in middle school.
The coffeemaker dinged and Emmett delivered three mugs of hot brew to the table. Then he sat and engaged Amelia in a glare-down. Neither said a word. This meeting had better kick into high gear because Sadie didn’t want to leave Logan in charge of the boys for too long. She wasn’t worried about Tyler getting into mischief, but—as Logan had discovered earlier—Tommy was adventuresome.
This morning wasn’t the first time her son had wandered off. Once at preschool he’d escaped the playground through an open gate. Thankfully another parent had spotted him in the parking lot and had brought him inside. Although she hadn’t been happy with Logan’s decision to take her son to the convenience store without telling her, she gave credit where credit was due—he didn’t know about Tommy’s ADD, yet he’d had the common sense not to let her son out of his sight. If anyone was at fault, it was Sadie—she’d slept through the noise of Tommy opening all the locks on the motel room door. “Maybe I should check on the twins,” she said.
“The boys are fine.” Amelia sipped her coffee, then said, “I thought about building a town square after the motel was renovated, but I changed my mind when Walter Franklin called me.”
“You cozying up to the bank president now?” Emmett looked at Sadie. “Your great-aunt’s fortune keeps the bank’s doors open, so she thinks she has the right to stick her nose into everyone’s business.”
Amelia ignored his barb. “Walter says you’ve fallen behind on the ranch mortgage.”
Emmett’s spine snapped straight. “What are you talking about?”
“The bank is ready to foreclose on your property.”
“Walter’s got no right sharing my personal business with you.”
“He’s concerned, Emmett. He knows Sara and I were close and the three of us go way back.”
“Logan handles the ranch accounts. He hasn’t said a word to me.”
“The bank sent late-payment statements in April, May and June.”
“Logan would have said something to me if he’d gotten them.”
“Maybe he did and you forgot,” Amelia said.
Emmett glared. “You think I’m addled now?”
Sadie held her breath when her aunt leaned forward, fingers curling as if she wanted to choke him. “If I thought your brain was stuck in some mental mud, I’d suggest building a sanatorium on your property instead of a tourist attraction.”
“Why didn’t Walter come out here and tell me?”
“Don’t you remember? Walter was traveling through Europe all summer. The manager who took his place drove down from Dallas once a week and stayed only long enough to make sure the bank hadn’t burned down before leaving again.”
Emmett shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense.”
“Walter made calls on your behalf, but the bank refuses to give any concessions. You have thirty days to come up with the cash or you’ll lose the ranch,” Amelia said.
The sip of coffee Emmett gulped must have slid down the wrong pipe, because he fell into a coughing fit.
Amelia leaped from her chair and pounded his back. “Quit hacking or you’ll break your ribs.” Her aunt’s hand went from whacking to rubbing in slow circles. Emmett’s eyes drifted closed, then a moment later popped open.
“Quit slappin’ me, Mimi.”
Mimi? Where had that nickname come from? When Sadie’s grandmother was alive, she’d never called her older sister Mimi.
“This is some cockamamy plot you and Walter conjured up so you could get your hands on my land.”
Amelia sucked in a quick breath. “Don’t be an ass. I would never conspire to steal Paradise Ranch out from under you.” She sat down and lowered her voice. “I’m willing to pay off your debt.”
“There is no debt until Logan says so,” Emmett said.
“I knew you’d be stubborn—” Amelia nodded to Sadie. “That’s why my niece is here.”
“What’s she got to do with you and Walter scheming against me?”
“Sadie has an accounting degree. Let her examine the ranch books. If the bank made a mistake, she’ll find it.”
Emmett drummed his knobby fingers against the tabletop. “You aren’t offering her services out of the goodness of your heart. What’s the catch?”
“If Walter’s correct, I’ll take care of the delinquent payments.”
Emmett squinted. “In exchange for what?”
“For you agreeing to give up twenty-five acres of your property.”
His lips parted and his breath escaped his mouth in a loud whoosh. “What are you going to do with twenty-five acres?”
“I plan to build a tourist attraction that you, Logan and Gunner will manage.”
Amelia sipped her coffee and winced.
Emmett’s mouth twitched. “Too strong for you?”
Sadie’s aunt glared.
“What kind of tourist attraction?” Emmett asked.
“I want to use the acreage for trail rides and a petting zoo.”
The coffee mug halted halfway to his lips, then returned to the table in slow motion.
“Before you tell me to jump in a lake, let me explain.” Amelia held up one finger. “First, you don’t have to invest a dime of your own money. I’ll pick up the entire tab. Second—” another finger popped up “—everyone knows the land bordering the Los Lobos Ranch is useless rocky terrain, which makes it perfect for trail riding.” A third finger appeared. “A petting zoo will interest families with children.” Four fingers wiggled in front of his face. “And the attractions will bring in extra income for you and your grandsons.”
Emmett didn’t say a word and Amelia pushed harder. “Gunner and Lydia have a child on the way. Wouldn’t you like to start a college fund for them?”
Her aunt had left off the fifth reason, but Sadie could guess what it was—Amelia hoped having to cater to tourists would breathe life back into her old flame.