“You? No chance in hell. Not for another fifty years.” Dan’s laughter was a bit too forced to be genuine, and it sent a shiver down Drew’s spine. Her dad was only fifty-five. That was much too young to die.
“Good. I guess we don’t need to sign these papers, then.” Her dad made to stand but Drew placed her hand on his, not wanting him to exert himself. Say what he would, there was no way around what they were here to do. She didn’t like it either, but it wasn’t up to her.
“Well, Andy, I know how you must feel about it,” Dan said, “but the conditions on your property, and on all the other ranches that were party to the original founders’ compact, apply today the same way they have since 1911. The Lazy C is yours to run until you retire, but after that, ownership passes to the next in line, which would be Drew.”
“I ain’t retired.” Her dad’s knuckles were white against the dark arms of his chair, and Drew knew if he had the strength, he’d like to rip them right off and throw them at the wall. She hated this for him.
“Maybe not according to you,” the lawyer said in an even tone, “but legally speaking, dropping below a twenty-five percent workload automatically triggers the clause in question.”
“I’ll be back up to normal in no time,” her dad argued. “There’s gotta be some wiggle room in that clause thing you’re talking about.”
“Dad,” Drew said firmly, eager to avoid going through it all again. “You know as well as I do that the doctors aren’t merely suggesting you cut back for the foreseeable future. They’re insisting on it.”
“Retirement is death,” her father spat out, stirring up one of his coughing fits.
“As opposed to your heart stopping,” Drew growled, “which is what’s going to happen if you don’t stop being a stubborn jackass.”
Drew instantly regretted yelling at him, but between that and the coughing, it gave Dan enough of a reprieve to start going over the details. “Let’s get started, shall we? Drew, I’d say congratulations are in order.”
Her father made some grumbling sounds, and Drew wanted to scream. Congratulations? Celebrating was the last thing on Drew’s mind. Not because she didn’t want the ranch, but because the minute Drew signed those papers, she would officially become the Campbell destined to lose it once and for all.
It wasn’t pessimism. It was simple arithmetic. The existing debt along with her father’s medical bills would eat them alive.
“As you already know, Drew, the Lazy C will be yours to run as you see fit until you retire or die, at which point the founders’ compact decrees the land must pass in its entirety to one beneficiary, with preference given to the oldest son.” The lawyer had the decency to look uncomfortable about that archaic requirement. “Should you decide to sell all or part of the property during your tenure as owner, well, that’s where the peculiarities of the compact come into play.”
Drew nodded. She knew the rule well and recited it now. “The land can only be sold to other members of the compact.”
It was the reason all of the original ranches remained intact and viable working cow-calf operations today, without being poached by condo developers or superstars willing to throw a lot of cash around to get a luxury vacation home. And it was great, unless you happened to be in debt up to your eyeballs. Where other ranchers outside the agreement had sold their land for millions, Drew would get pennies by comparison. Selling even a small parcel wasn’t something Drew wanted to do—no real rancher ever did—but the fact that doing so still couldn’t dig her out of the hole they were in thanks to promises her ancestors had made on her behalf, well, that hung around her neck like an iron noose.
It meant that instead of parting with one prime piece of real estate so some Hollywood director could build a hunting lodge he would use two weeks a year, Drew would end up losing the entire 13,000 acres. She would probably still owe the bank when she was done. It was a bleak future, but what else could she do? At this point, she wanted to get everything settled so they could start the process of her dad getting over being mad at her for something that wasn’t her fault.
As if sensing the predicament that was weighing on her, Dan gave Drew a sympathetic look. “There’s always the water rights contract with Whetstone Ranch. As I recall, they’re coming up for negotiation soon. You could get a little more—”
“I’m not doing that to Bob,” Drew said quickly, ending the discussion. Bob Davis had the ranch next to theirs and ran it all by himself despite being much older than her father. She wasn’t about to charge an old man more for water just because her own family hadn’t done a good job of managing expenses.
“Well, all right then. In that case, I have most of the transfer paperwork ready to go.” Dan patted a pile of folders but then motioned to a separate pile of documents he’d set aside. “Before we can finalize everything, I’m going to need your wife to sign those.”
“Good luck finding her.” Drew’s father’s voice showed signs of his former fight. “It’s been fifteen years since she left. You should know that, Dan. You handled the divorce.”
“I’m sure you’re aware my mother hasn’t had a thing to do with us or the ranch since before the ink had a chance to dry,” Drew added. “Surely, she must’ve signed everything she needed to back then.”
And took as much as she could with her when she did. Half the debt was because of what her dad had ended up paying out in the divorce settlement.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” Dan appeared flustered, which Drew assumed was because he’d made a mistake. But then he said, “Allow me to clarify. I wasn’t referring to your father’s ex-wife.”
This did absolutely nothing to clarify things for Drew. “Huh?”
“I was referring to your wife.” This time, Dan pointed directly at Drew, who nearly bounded out of her seat.
“Have you lost your mind? I don’t have time for a date, let alone a wife.”
The lawyer’s brow crumpled as he shifted through the papers. “I’m quite certain—”
“There has to be a mistake.” Drew was growing irritated. It had taken monumental efforts to get her father to come to this meeting. If they couldn’t get everything finished now, Drew worried her father would dig deep to find his stubbornness and work himself to his death to avoid having to come here again. Not only would Drew lose the ranch in the end but also the only parent she could count on.
The lawyer plucked a piece of paper from his stack. “I triple-checked, you know. I mean, you didn’t include her on the forms, and rumors travel awfully fast in this part of the world, so I was pretty sure I’d have heard about a wedding—”
“I’m not married!” Drew slapped the table with an open palm, rattling the water glasses neither she nor her father had taken a sip from.