The first page was a deed to one hundred acres of land. Bull Tyler’s signature was at the bottom, notarized by the lawyer who’d read the will. The name at the top, on the line for the new owner of the property, was his own.
The second page was a legal description of the land, with a map showing its location. Sky recognized it at once. It had belonged to a neighboring ranch on the east border of the Rimrock—prime pastureland with a creek, perfect for horses, a few cows, and maybe a modest home. Sky had ridden that way many times and admired it. But never in a lifetime had he dreamed it would be his.
Jasper nudged him. “Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t a Pandora’s box? What have you got to say?”
Sky couldn’t answer. His throat was locked tight, swollen with emotion. What had he done to deserve such a gift? And what would he do with it?
Tactfully, Jasper gave him time. Several minutes of silence passed before the old man spoke, changing the subject.
“Well, with Axelrod out of the way, it looks like Garn Prescott’s going to be up for another term in Congress.”
Sky was relieved that the conversation had shifted.
“Not that I pay much attention to politics, but is Will still trying to make peace with the man?”
“On and off. But you might find this interesting. Prescott’s daughter is with him for the summer. The girl’s an accountant, and a damned good one from what I hear. Beau’s hired her part-time to help him set up a spreadsheet for the ranch.”
Sky managed a chuckle. It hurt a little. “Prescott’s got a daughter? That’s a surprise. Hope she’s better-looking than Garn.”
Jasper’s eyes twinkled. “You can judge for yourself. That’s her car coming up the drive now.”
Sky followed the old man’s gaze. He stifled a groan as he sensed trouble blowing in like a wild summer storm.
The car pulling up to the house was an all-too-familiar sleek black Corvette.