Homecoming Ranch by Julia London Read Free Book Online Page B

about Marisol’s finer qualities without mentioning her mind, and Dad and Luke laughed along like pigs. It felt like old times, when they’d all lived on the ranch where Luke and Leo had grown up. Back before Leo got sick. Before Mom died. Back when they’d been three guys hanging out, talking about guy things. Before Luke got calls at night saying Dad and Leo weren’t at the ranch anymore.
    But then Dad reminded Leo that he was not supposed to eat cookies, only soft foods, and reality roared back into that little kitchen on a freaking freight train.
    Leo, God bless him, just grinned. “That means you’re going to have to put my pizza in a blender, bro,” he said to Luke. “Be sure and get a big straw because I like lots of cheese.”
    “Noted,” Luke said. “So,” he said, popping the top off another beer, “what happened with the ranch, Dad?”
    “On that note,” Leo said, backing away from the table, “I’ve got a date with the Hounds of Hell.” He scooted back with his remotecontrol, banging into the little bar, then scraping against the door as he pushed his way through.
    Luke’s father sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands, rearranging his features and, for a moment, looking younger than his fifty-eight years. But then his flesh slid back into familiar sags and folds. “I got myself into a deal.”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Cooked it up with Grant Tyler. You remember him?”
    “Vaguely,” Luke said. What he remembered was a rotund guy with a booming laugh, nothing more.
    “Grant knew that I needed cash to pay for Leo’s expenses that aren’t covered by Medicaid. Like that fancy bed in there. My credit is maxed out, Luke. I couldn’t borrow enough to buy a shovel. The only thing I had was the ranch. So Grant, he’d done pretty well for himself in some deal, and he said, ‘Look, let’s just do a sale. I’ll give you the cash you need and hold on to the title until you’re able to sell some cattle or whatnot and get on your feet. Then I’ll sell it back to you for the same price.’ It was sort of like a second mortgage, a way to get me some cash. So we did the deal, and everything was good. I sold part of the livestock and paid off some debt. I was building up again, getting ready to get the ranch back when Grant up and died.”
    “Okay,” Luke said. So far, nothing earth-shattering. “So there was a deal, and he died, but you have all the paperwork on it, right?”
    “I’ve got paperwork for the sale. But we didn’t have a written agreement that I would buy it back for the same price he’d paid.” Luke must have looked as shocked as he felt, because his dad said, “We were friends, son. We had each other’s word, and that’s all we needed.”
    And there, in the distance, was the sound of the earth shattering. Luke’s heart sank. “Dad, you always need a written agreement.”
    “Well I know that now,” his father said a little irritably. “But I didn’t think so at the time. He was a good friend and he was doing me a tremendous favor.”
    Luke looked at the dingy window above the kitchen sink. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble?” he asked calmly. “I could have gotten a loan. I could have helped you.”
    His father sighed. “Come on, Luke. You’re in the middle of starting your own business. You’re in school. You have your own problems, your own credit to worry about. You’ve got people backing you up that you have to think about. And you already pay for Marisol—you don’t need my problems on top of that.”
    “But I’ve got some money put aside,” Luke argued. “I’m doing pretty good. Dad, we’re family—”
    “Luke,” his father interrupted sharply. “I know you mean well, son. But I already have one child who can’t fulfill his dreams. I’ll be damned if I’m going to have two.”
    Luke clenched his jaw. He stared down at the table, away from his father’s gray eyes. “I still don’t get why you left the ranch to come to this