Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1) - Page 22

“No, I’m afraid he didn’t.” And why the hell was that?

Lee sighed, shaking his head in obvious disappointment. “Six months ago, I told Rick that he needed to talk to you about what was happening. If he had, perhaps this meeting would have gone very differently.”

Shep continued to look at the declining sales over the years, and a cold worry began to creep over him. “Does Colin know about this?” As CEO of Blackshaw Cattle he had to have known, or at least been somewhat aware of what was going on.

“Yes, I’m sure he knew,” Lee confirmed.

Shep gritted his teeth. Why hadn’t Colin said something? “How long did my father know about this?” he pressed on.

“I told him last January.”

Shep sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Christ, he’d known for that long? Sure, his father was a proud man. He’d raised three sons in his shadow. Men who didn’t want a handout; they worked damn hard for any success they’d gained. Men who were proud of the Blackshaw name and the legacy their father had built. But they were a close-knit family, Jenny made sure of that. Shep didn’t think there were secrets between them.

Until now, of course.

Trying to make sense out of this, he glanced down at the papers again, examining each one carefully. Every number made the situation grimmer. They were losing money too fast. Was this what had caused his father’s heart attack? Was it stress-related? He flipped through more papers, discovering that as of now Blackshaw Cattle was still afloat. “How long until bankruptcy becomes a possibility?” he asked, lifting his focus to Lee.

“A year.”

“A year?” Shep repeated, sinking back in his seat, dumbfounded.

“Maybe longer,” Lee said, pity in his pale eyes. “There’s no sure way to tell, but how things sit, it isn’t an if the company goes bankrupt but a when.”

The world went bleak around him while Shep asked, “How is that even possible? Blackshaw Cattle is a multimillion-dollar company.”

“Was a multimillion-dollar company,” Lee corrected, leaning back in his chair, resting his hands on his rounded stomach. “Buyers began to pull out when orders weren’t being fulfilled on time.” Buyers were the backbone of the company. Restaurants, butcher shops in neighboring towns, grocery stores—Blackshaw Cattle needed them to survive. “Rick wasn’t bringing in any new buyers in the last year, and the big companies that he did have, left to sign on with Irish Creek Ranch.”

Clint Harrison owned nearly as much land as Blackshaw Cattle, and had been their only competitor since his father got into business. Shep knew they had been a real threat to his father, but not this much of a threat. Nor had he heard that buyers were leaving to go to Irish Creek Ranch. Now he suspected his father kept this information locked up tight. He read the final documents, then shut the file. “Level with me,” he said to Lee. “What exactly am I facing here?”

Lee leaned forward against his desk, stoic as always. “You have six months to turn things around. The company is worth something now. A year from now it won’t be.”

“Are those my only options?”

Lee gave a slow nod. “I’m afraid your father has left you in quite the predicament. You need something more to pick up the income from the loss of the buyers.” He regarded Shep with his wise eyes, then offered, “You’re smart and strategic, Shep. Use that and rebuild what your father created.”

“Or?”

“Sell the company, and the land, before the business tanks. You don’t want to lose all of the Blackshaw money.”

Dread loomed like a dark cloud above Shep, ready to sink down on his shoulders. He rose, desperate to get out of there and get air. Needing to think this through, he offered his hand. “Thank you, Lee. I’ll be in touch again when I make a decision.”

Lee returned the handshake. “Don’t take too long, Shep. Time is against you.”

Chapter 6

Later that afternoon, Emma held the apple flat in her hand, lifting the treat to Tadgh. He bit off half of the apple. She smiled while he chewed. “At least you know what’s good for you.” Tadgh dipped his head when she stroked his face.

He was a normal horse. Bentley, on the other hand, was something else entirely.

Over Tadgh’s shoulder, Bentley watched them carefully, ears perked forward on high alert. All around his hoofs were the carrots and apples that Emma had been tossing his way over the last ten minutes. She sighed while Tadgh devoured the other half of the apple. All the other animals at the farm ate like they’d been starved for years, especially the goats, Pumpkin and Pebbles. Which she now guessed was because she hadn’t been feeding them the right food. She had felt bad about that yesterday, but today she realized they had still had hay. None of them were starving, and Grams had kept them all nice and fat.

Besides, Emma let herself off the hook, she excelled at marketing, not farm work. Slowly, she was getting there, with help from Shep, of course. She figured Grams would be over the moon that she was at the farm at all, and Emma wasn’t selling the farm. Yet. The conversation with Mom earlier remained on Emma’s thoughts. Should she stay? Should she go back to New York City? Should she move somewhere else? She exhaled deeply, running her hand down the soft hair on Tadgh’s face. Truth was, she didn’t know what to do, her mind spinning in a thousand directions.

Tadgh suddenly nudged her belly for another treat. She dug a carrot out of the bag this time, and he gobbled it up quickly. After she grabbed another one, and before Tadgh stole it away, she tossed the carrot toward Bentley, and it landed a foot away from his hoof.

Nothing.

No reaction at all.

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