Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)

“You’ve got some voicemails waiting for you, but they aren’t urgent,” she reported, placing the paper cup down by a photograph of her two-year-old twin boys. “I’m nearly finished up with the final details of the new contract. Looks like a group of ten will be arriving in two weeks to the day. Navy SEALs, this time.”

“Perfect.” Shep’s team had trained everyone from the SEALs to the Rangers to a few specialized teams within police departments. And that wasn’t not only because of the Blackshaw name, but because Shep had hired three of the best survival experts in the United States, who were also retired military. “Thanks for staying on top of everything.”

When he went to turn away, Lorraine added, “Clint Harrison has called a couple times. You might want to call him back. He seemed to be getting annoyed that I kept sending him to voicemail.”

Shep laughed. “I’m sure he did. Thanks, Lorraine.”

She gave her sweet smile then got back to work, focusing on her monitor.

With thoughts of Clint on his mind, knowing that he wanted to discuss his father’s land, Shep strode down the hallway of the old farmhouse, taking a sip of his coffee. To his left was the kitchen, which was used to prepare a big breakfast on the day they headed out for their training. Their last meal, so to speak. To his right was the large meeting room that was once two bedrooms. Above him on the second floor were the barracks and bathroom that the men and women used instead of going to a hotel the night before training began. At the end of the hallway, which was once the living room, Shep entered his office. There was nothing fancy about the space. The walls were a mix between gray and brown, colors Lorraine had picked. He had a desk with a computer and a phone and a black leather chair, and two large windows overlooking the creek that ran through the Blackshaw land.

Once he took a seat, he powered up his computer, checked his emails and voicemail, and indeed found three messages from Clint. Not much of a surprise, considering he now knew Clint wanted the land. There was no point putting off the call. He had to know what they were facing.

He cleared his throat, grabbed the phone, and dialed the callback number in Clint’s voicemail.

“Harrison,” was how Clint answered on the fourth ring.

“Clint, it’s Shep Blackshaw returning your call.”

“Shep, it’s good to hear from you.” A pause. “Listen, first, I’m so sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

Bullshit. If he’d been so sorry, why didn’t he attend the funeral? “Thank you for your condolences. I’m sure my mother will appreciate hearing them,” Shep carefully replied. The bad blood between the two families spanned Shep’s entire life. First, the dispute was land. Then it came down to business and money, while Clint and Rick battled to see who came out on top. “What can I do for you, Clint?”

“Colin informed me that he spoke to you about the deal your father and I had discussed.”

Shep gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the haughtiness in Clint’s voice. Obviously, he was thrilled that he had finally beaten Shep’s father. “He has explained the situation, yes.”

“I thought, then, it would be appropriate for me to send over the details of our offer. Am I right in assuming you’ll be handling what happens with your father’s estate?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Shep replied. “Go ahead and send the details to my email. Do you have it?”

Clint paused, and when he spoke again, there was amusement in his voice. “My assistant will get that for me.”

Shep gritted his teeth. “Give me a couple days to review everything and talk things over with the family.”

“That’s fine,” Clint agreed. “I have no doubt that you will all find the offer to be fair, as your father did.”

Curiosity had Shep asking, “What numbers are we talking about here?”

“We’re looking at purchasing twenty-one hundred acres,” Clint reported. “We’ll leave the nine hundred acres of land surrounding all the houses belonging to yourself and your family, as well as your business.”

Shep glanced down, noting his clenched fist on his desk, and hastily stretched out his fingers. “What’s your offer?”

“Ten and half million.”

Without knowing the market, Shep had no idea if that price was fair or not, and he’d need to make some calls, but he assumed Clint would pay the lowest amount possible. Especially if he knew Blackshaw Cattle was crumbling.

“All right.” Shep leaned back in his seat, glancing out at the land his father cherished. “I’ll be in touch soon.”

Another pause. “Don’t wait too long, Shep.”

The line went dead. The arrogance of Clint always got under Shep’s skin. While he liked Megan, he didn’t know how she came from such a dickhead of a father. She didn’t possess any of the cruel traits her father did.

Shep sighed, returning the phone to the receiver then lacing his fingers behind his head, staring out at the deep green trees, the untouched land. At one time in his life, Shep thought his father’s land was priceless. Now, with his mother’s future on the line, and the future of those who had spent their lives working for their family waiting in the balance, he realized the land wasn’t priceless anymore.

* * *

Restlessness had stirred Emma from her sleep bright and early. She’d finished morning feed, mucked stalls, and got the animals settled, all by nine o’clock. When she stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, her mind wandered to what happened last night with Shep. With a towel atop her head and another around her body, she wiped the condensation off the bathroom mirror, staring into eyes she didn’t even recognize anymore. She’d never been this woman who didn’t trust a man. Hell, she’d trusted Jake completely.