“Yes, you have. But this year has been different. This drought has been the worst ever.”
“I know. That’s why we’re getting ready to sell off surplus cattle and horses.”
“There’s something else, Erin. Something your father was planning to tell you, probably on the day he died. The bank didn’t give him easy terms on that loan. This year a balloon payment is due by the end of December—two hundred thousand dollars.”
Erin stifled a gasp. She felt the color drain from her face.
“At the time he signed on the loan, Will didn’t have much choice,” Rose said. “He was hoping the years would be good ones and he could raise his profits enough to make the payment. But you know what happened. This has been one of the worst years ever for the ranch, and the year before wasn’t much better.”
“So we don’t have the money.” Even speaking the words felt like a sentence of doom.
“According to what Will told me, there’s barely enough in reserve to pay monthly expenses until the stock can be sold off. And even if you sold everything, it wouldn’t cover the payment. As of October first, if the bank doesn’t get their money, they’ll foreclose on the ranch and sell it—probably to the syndicate.”
In the silence that followed Rose’s words, Erin struggled to grasp what she’d just heard. She’d known the ranch was in trouble, but as she’d said earlier, they’d survived tough times before. However, this was more than a tough time. This was losing the ranch where four generations of her family had lived—the only home she’d ever known, the legacy she’d hoped to pass on to her children and grandchildren. This was unthinkable.
“What about Beau?” she asked, grasping at straws. “I know he never meant for this to happen. Couldn’t he lend me back some of the money he took for his share?”
Rose shook her head. “For one thing, your father had too much pride to ask him. But even if he’d asked, Beau used the money to buy a nice home in the country near the DC area, and to build a clinic for his wife’s veterinary practice. There’s not enough cash left to make a difference.”
Erin’s hands clenched into fists. She’d just lost her father. She was on the verge of losing the ranch, and she was in no position to help the man she loved.
She could feel shock turning to rage. She wanted to curse and pound the desk. She wanted to scream and cry. Why hadn’t her father shared his worries sooner? Life hadn’t prepared her for any of this. It wasn’t fair.
Bull Tyler’s steely eyes gazed down at her from the photograph on the wall. In her mind, she could hear his voice as she remembered it, roughened by pain and the alcohol he’d turned to after the terrible riding accident that had broken his spine and left him wheelchair bound.
Hell, of course it’s not fair! Life isn’t fair! Grow up, Erin! Be a Tyler. Figure out what has to be done and do it. Land and family. Family and land. That’s all that matters!
The words lingered in Erin’s mind as she reached deep inside herself for strength—Tyler strength that was as much a heritage as her beloved ranch. Land and family. Family and land. Figure out what has to be done and do it!
Wherever those words had come from, Erin knew they were all the wisdom she had. She raised her head and took a deep breath. “Tell me everything you know, Rose,” she said.
Rose shifted in her chair, leaning toward the desk. “When Will drove into town for the last time, he mentioned that he was going to the bank to ask for an extension. If that’s where he went, I’m guessing he was disappointed. The bank would have no reason to help a man who’s over a barrel—especially if they’ve got a cash buyer waiting.”
“And I can’t believe they’d help me either,” Erin said. “But I’ll need to talk to someone there. At least they might tell me about their conversation with my dad. If I knew what was said and what time he left there . . .” She paused, thinking. Could there be a connection between her father’s visit to the bank and his murder? Maybe the syndicate wanted him out of the way so they could buy the Rimrock when the bank foreclosed.
“Let’s go back outside and talk to Beau,” she said. “The funeral isn’t until tomorrow. Today, while he’s here, I could use his help.”
* * *
Beau readily agreed to help Erin piece together the events leading up to Will’s murder. Hopefully, their search would yield some clues. Finding the real killer would be their one best chance of freeing Luke.
They started at the bank. Much as Erin wanted to be seen as an independent woman, she had to admit that having a federal agent with her, asking questions, made it easier to get answers.
Sim Bartlett, the bank president, admitted that Will had come by the morning he was killed. Sim had kept him waiting, partly in the hope that the rancher would give up and leave. He’d known what Will wanted and what his answer would be. Why go through the painful scene again?
“Finally I had no choice except to talk to him,” Bartlett said. “It was the same conversation we’d had before. Will wanted an extension on the payment. I had to tell him no.”
“Was anything said about the syndicate buying the ranch?” Erin asked.
Bartlett hesitated, but a stern look from Beau was enough to keep him talking. “Now that I remember, there was a mention of it. When I said that a man from the syndicate had questioned me about buying the Rimrock, Will looked like he’d been gut punched. My guess is that he’d been planning to sell them some of the land bordering the old Prescott Ranch. Since they were more interested in taking over the Rimrock, that wouldn’t have been an option.” Bartlett shrugged. “I felt sorry for Will, but business is business. I wasn’t hired to be nice.”
Rage rose in Erin as she imagined her proud, dignified father forced to grovel in front of this soulless man. For now, she held her anger in check. Later, she would have to deal with the bank herself. There would be plenty of time to tell Bartlett what she thought of him.
“Is there anything else you remember?” Beau asked.
“Only that Will left here in a pretty sour mood. He looked like a whipped dog.”
Quivering with suppressed anger, Erin climbed back into Beau’s rental car. “A whipped dog! That man is a monster, Beau!”