Grace was a great big problem in a whole heap of problems. But not one he could deal with this minute. Liam? That was something he could handle.
He watched Liam back out of a stall housing one of the quarter horses Wade Ranch bred commercially, waiting until his brother was clear of the door to speak. He had enough respect for the damage a spooked eleven-hundred-pound animal could do to a man to stay clear.
“What’s this crap about you wanting to adopt my kids?” he said when Liam noticed him.
Liam snorted. “Grace must have come by. She tell you to sign the papers?”
No one ordered Kyle around, least of all Grace.
“She told me you’ve got your sights set on my family.” He crossed his arms before he made good on the impulse to smash his brother in the mouth for even uttering Grace’s name. She’d meant everything to Kyle, but to Liam, she was yet another in a long line of his women. “Back off. I’m taking responsibility for them whether you like it or not.”
Sticking a piece of clean straw between his back teeth, Liam cocked a hip and leaned against the closed stall door as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Lazily, he rearranged his battered hat. “Tell me something. What’s the annual revenue Wade Ranch brings in for stud fees?”
“How should I know?” Kyle ground out. “You run the ranch.”
“Yeah.” Liam raised his brows sardonically. “Half of which belongs to you. Grandpa died almost two years ago, yet you’ve never lifted a finger to even find out what I do here. Money pours into your bank account on a monthly basis. Know how that happens? Because I make sure of it. I made sure of a lot of things while you ran around the Middle East blowing stuff up and ignoring your responsibilities at home. One of those things I do is take care of Maddie and Maggie. Because you weren’t here. Just like you weren’t here to take on any responsibility for the ranch. I will not let you be an absentee father like you’ve been an absentee ranch owner.”
“That’s a low blow,” Kyle said softly. Liam had always viewed Kyle’s stint as a SEAL with a bit of disdain, making it clear he saw it as a cop-out. “You wanted the ranch. I didn’t. But I want my girls, and I’m going to be here for them.”
Wade Ranch had never meant anything to him other than a place to live because it was the only one he had. Then and now. Mama had cut and run faster than you could spit, once she’d dumped him and Liam here with her father, then taken the Dallas real estate market by storm. Lillian Wade had quickly become the Barbara Corcoran of the South and forgot all about the two little boys she’d abandoned.
Funny how Liam had been so similarly affected by dear old Mama. Enough to want to guarantee his blood wouldn’t ever have to know the sting of desertion. Kyle respected the thought if not the action. But Kyle was one up on Liam, because those girls were his daughters. He wasn’t about to take lessons from Mama on how to be a runaway parent.
“Too little, too late,” his brother mouthed around the straw. “Hadley and I want to adopt them. I hope you have a good lawyer in your back pocket because you’re not getting those girls without a hell of a fight.”
God Almighty. The hits kept coming. He’d barely had time to get his feet under him from being sucker punched a minute after crossing the threshold of his childhood home, only to have Liam drop twin daughters, Grace Haines and a custody battle in his lap.
They stared at each other, neither blinking. Neither backing down. They were both stubborn enough to stand there until the cows came home, and probably would, too.
Nothing was going to get fixed this way, and with Grace’s admonition to prove he was serious about providing a stable environment for Maddie and Maggie ringing in his ears, he contemplated his mule-headed brother. He wanted help with the ranch? By God, he’d get it. And Kyle would have employment to put on his Fatherhood Résumé, which would hopefully get Grace off his back at the same time.
“Give me a job if it means so much to you that I take ranch ownership seriously. I’ll do something with the horses.”
Liam nearly busted a gut laughing, which did not improve Kyle’s grip on his temper. “You can feed them. But that’s about it. You have no training.”
And Kyle wasn’t at 100 percent physically, but no one had to know about that. His injuries mostly didn’t count anyway. It just meant he had to work that much harder, which he’d do. Those babies were worth a little agony.
“I can learn. You can’t have it both ways. Either you give me a shot at being half owner of Wade Ranch or shut up about it.”