“Of course.” Amy fell into step next to him as they made their way inside.
“Sal, my foreman, also lives here at the ranch and is waiting in the dining room. He says he remembers you as a little tike who used to rough and tumble your way around your dad’s ranch. He was a friend of his.”
“I think I remember him.”
They stepped into the cool interior and Lance closed the doors behind them.
Lacquered board floors, crystal chandeliers and a spiraling staircase were her first impressions along with the pricey artwork on the rich silk wallpaper.
“This way.” He led the way into a sweeping room with a massive table and a long sideboard where an assortment of covered dishes rested. A tall, lanky man with shaggy white hair and blue eyes got to his feet and came forward. “Sal, meet Amy Grayson.”
“You're more beautiful than the photo your dad has on his mantel.” He gripped her hands and grinned at her, revealing slightly yellowed teeth. “He was always bragging about you.”
“Thank you. I remember you used to come over to the ranch and sit on the porch with dad.”
“I'm so sorry he's gone. I've lost my chess partner. Come and eat.” He guided her over to the table and handed her a plate. “The chef is worth the amount of money Lance here pays him. “There's grits, sausages, ham, omelets, freshly baked bread and pancakes. Sundays is a day of rest, and a time where the men find their own homes, but they can't resist the cooking here.” He looked up at Lance, who'd also taken up a plate. “Jim called and said that he's doing some checks around the perimeter on the east side. The storm did a number on the soil and rooted out some fences.”
“I'm heading out there later to take a look.”
“No need,” Sal said firmly. “I have nowhere to be today so I figured I would go and take a look myself. Mason was making noises about the fencing that we ordered. That boy thinks he's the one who holds the purse strings and not you.”
“I'll talk to him.” Lance forced the irritation out of his voice as he turned to Amy. She was wearing a loose-fitting cotton shirt and faded jeans, her hair loose and hanging down her back. “Coffee?”
“Black and strong, and this smells delightful.”
They sat at the table and the conversation was centered around her dad and talks of the ranch and cattle.
“Your father had some Shetland that are in very good breeding condition. What are you going to do about the place?” Sal asked as he crunched into his sausage.
“I want to sell everything.”
His shaggy brows descended. “Your dad worked hard to keep that place afloat.”
“And I don't know one end of a horse or cattle from the other,” Amy pointed out as she sipped the excellent coffee. “I just want to tie things up before I leave.”
“Amy wants me to purchase the stock,” Lance told him.
Sal nodded. “That’s a good idea.” His light blue eyes met hers. “What about the house?”
“I have no idea what to do about it yet.”
“It’s a nice place and very serene.”
“Too serene,” Amy said wryly. “I couldn't fall asleep last night. I actually heard myself breathing. I had to turn some music on.”
Both men laughed. “You get used to it after a time,” Lance told her.
“I really doubt that.”
Sal shoved back his chair. “Really nice to see you again Amy. I have to go. “
“Bye Sal.”
Lance leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “How come I never noticed that you have all that hair?”
Amy looked at him, startled. “Because when we hung out when I was little, I was just like a guy to you.”
“That’s not true,” he told her lightly. “I mean, you could always out-ride me and frustrate me by climbing trees like you were born in them.”
“Don’t forget skimming,” she said with a grin.
“Skimming?”
“The stones we used to skim over the pond near my dad’s place. I used to beat you at that too.”
“You see? You were more like a dude.”
“That’s sexist. Women can do as much or more than men.”
“True.” He nodded with a smile as he stared at her for a moment. “Ready for the tour?”
“Can we do it on horseback? I haven't been on my dad’s horses since I got here, and I'm dying to feel the wind in my hair.”
“I have the perfect horse for you.”
“Nothing docile I hope.”
“We don't have that type here.” He came around to pull her chair out for her to get up.
“And you've become a gentleman,” she teased him.
“I always have been. You just never noticed.”
*****
Mason sat in his car underneath the cicada tree and watched as they exited the house. He'd become very good at pretending. Pretending that he'd gotten used to the fact that his cousin called all the shots, pretending that it was okay when his decisions were overridden by him and pretending that he liked the guy. His hands clenched on the steering wheel as he watched them head towards the barn. He knew who she was, had known her since they were young and in school and had been at the funeral as well. He'd also seen them leave the church together and had followed them at a discreet distance and realized that Lance had gone to her place and had spent several hours there. He hadn't been able to get close enough to find out what they were doing. Amy Grayson wasn't exactly his type, too hefty for him, but he liked the way she looked. He also remembered that she never gave him the time of day and was always with his cousin. They'd shut him out when he wanted to hang out with them, as if they were better than him. Lance had chosen an outsider over his own family even then. His mouth tightened as he saw them laugh and Amy put her hand on his arm. His mother had persuaded him to accept what they had and had tried to convince him that they weren't bad off. They had a nice home, and their bills were paid for by the trust. But it wasn't enough. He was older than Lance and should be the one calling the shots. The man was a billionaire and certainly didn't spend his money on clothes and material things. He put money back into the extensive spread and had overhauled the town, giving it a new look, but he wore the same faded jeans and t-shirt that had seen better days. He walked out of sight and figured that they'd gone into the barn to get to the horses. No doubt he was going to give her the tour of the land. He was master of all he surveyed, Mason thought bitterly, and he was master of nothing. Even the house he lived in was bought and paid for by his cousin. It was humiliating! He remembered the last bitch he'd hooked up with two weeks ago and he'd brought her back to the house, sneaking her around the back so that his mother wouldn't see her. The bitch had laughed at him and told him that if she'd been seeing his cousin, she wouldn't have to be sneaking around to have sex with him. “When are you going to get a place for yourself?”
He hadn't taken her out again and hadn't answered her calls. He ran his hands around his steering wheel, a grim look on his face. There had to be a way to make his dreams come true.
*****
“Oh my gosh! This is amazing!” Amy shouted as she gave the sorrel her head. “I haven't done this in ages! How about a race?”