Will fixed a steady gaze on his brother, reminding himself that Beau hadn’t set foot on the ranch once in the past eleven years. It was time he learned the true situation, considering half the ranch would now be his.
“There are two answers to that question,” he said. “The simpler one is that Garn phoned me with an offer to do it. Since nobody else was stepping up, I let him. I knew he’d do a decent job, and he did. So what if he was looking for a few votes in next fall’s election?”
“As well as a vote from that good-lookin’ ex of yours,” Jasper added with a wink. “He’s been sniffin’ a trail around Tori ever since his wife died.”
“Not that Tori’s interested,” Beau said. “I know for a fact she’d like him to take a walk.”
“Tori can do whatever she wants,” Will snapped. “This isn’t about her.”
“So what’s your second answer?” Sky Fletcher was a man who did more listening than talking. Tall and lean, with the black hair, hawkish bones, and tawny skin of his Comanche ancestors, he studied Will with riveting cobalt eyes.
“The second answer’s about survival.” Leaning forward, Will set his bottle on the coffee table with a sharp thunk. “This isn’t the Old West anymore. Most of the ranches in these parts have sold off their acreage to farmers and developers just to stay afloat. The biggest outfits, the ones that haven’t broken up, have been taken over by syndicates of investors, a lot of them from back East or even places like Singapore and Dubai. More and more cattle are being raised on farms. As for big, open family ranches like ours . . .” Will shook his head.
“You’re saying we’re dinosaurs.” Beau’s remark wasn’t a question.
“Something like that,” Will admitted.
“What’s that got to do with letting Garn Prescott deliver Bull’s eulogy?” Jasper demanded.
“Just this,” Will said. “We can’t afford to have enemies. Bull and old Ferg may have feuded all their lives, but now that they’re both dead, we have to make peace. We need allies—and it never hurts to have one in Congress, looking out for the interests of ranchers in these parts.”
Jasper came close to spitting on the floor. “Bull wouldn’t like that. He always said, ‘If you wallow with pigs, you’re bound to get dirty.’ And he had the Prescotts in mind when he said it.”
Will sighed. As foreman, Jasper was entitled to be here. But the old man wasn’t making this discussion any easier, and given what needed to be said, his mood was bound to get worse.
“Let me paint the big picture,” Will said. “The Prescott ranch has been bailed out by investors. Garn’s the figurehead, but he’s no longer running the operation. That’s why he has time for politics. If we can’t manage to stay afloat, we’ll be fated to go the same way.”
“Are we in trouble?” Sky asked the question.
“Not yet, but we’re cutting it close. If we don’t make changes now, another drought like last summer’s could put us under.” Will leaned back in his chair, studying the man his father had taken in when he was a scruffy, lost teenager. Bringing Sky Fletcher in as part of the ranch family had been one of the best decisions Bull ever made.
“One idea I have involves you, Sky. Our Rimrock cow ponies have always gotten top prices at auction, as much for your training as for their breeding. I’d like to expand the operation, to shore us up in case we have to sell off our beef early. What would you think about choosing some prime-quality colts to be brought in and broken here?”
Sky’s expression barely flickered. “We could work it out. But training horses takes time. So does being second foreman. If you want me to focus on the horse side, we’ll need some help.”
“How about that young cousin of yours? Is he any good?”
“Not as good as I’d hoped. So far he does more complaining than working.”
“In that case, if we get those extra colts, it might be easier to find a man who can shoulder your other duties.” Will shifted his somber gaze to Jasper, bracing for what needed to be said. “I’m not telling you anything that you don’t already know, Jasper, but there are some days when you’re so crippled up with arthritis that it’s all you can do to climb into the saddle. And those days are happening more frequently.”
Jasper bristled with pride. “So what are you saying? That it’s time I retired?”
“Not until you can train a new boss to take your place, teach him everything you know about this business and this ranch. You have a wealth of knowledge that we’ll always need to draw on. So don’t have any doubts—you have a home on this ranch for as long as you want it.” Will could see that none of his words were sitting well with the old cowboy. But as much as he hated saying them, this had to be done. “Hell, Jasper, you were more a father to me and Beau than Bull ever was. You put us on our first horses, taught us how to work cattle and rope. And I need you to do the same with Erin. As things stand right now, she’ll be the one to inherit the ranch. She’ll need to know how to run it. No one could do a better job of teaching her that than you.”
The old cowboy brightened. He had always regarded Erin as a kind of granddaughter. “It’d be a pleasure to take her in hand,” he said, and meant it. He paused, a slight frown puckering his forehead. “But if you’re having Sky focus on the horse side of the business, who are you figurin’ on gettin’ to be foreman?”
Will fixed his gaze on Beau. “I’m looking at him.”
Ever since Will had turned the conversation to the ranch’s future, Beau had suspected he’d get drawn into it somehow, but he hadn’t foreseen this. He felt his jaw muscles tightening in instant resistance.
Beau took a quick swig of beer to try to cool his temper and managed an even response. “You’re overlooking one small detail,” he said. “I’m leaving in the morning to catch my flight back to D.C.”
Will came right back at him without a pause.
“That’s easily remedied. Just cancel the reservation.”
“You know damn well that I have a job waiting for me.” This time Beau couldn’t keep the heat out of his voice. “You don’t really expect me to walk away from it just like that.”