Rode Hard, Put Up Wet: Cowboy Romance (Rebels & Outlaws 2)

And there was no way that Randy Reed was going to pay for it, neither. He didn't have that kind of money, and he didn't really have that kind of money coming in, neither.

Philip's jaw tightens. There's only one way he could possibly get that kind of money. A possibility that, up until now, he's barely even entertained. He's only got one thing worth that much.

Something he's never thought of selling before in his life.

But if it's going to make the world of difference to the only thing close to family that Callahan's got left…

His chest hurts, and he can feel the weight of the world crashing down on his shoulders. But there's no question what the right thing to do is.

He'll wait until tonight, but he has to call. He'll do it as soon as he leaves the hospital, but first, he's got to go see the boys. He's got to make sure they're doing alright.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Morgan noticed Brad's absence in the way that one notices that a chronic pain has gone away. It's not immediately obvious, because even though it has been a constant for years, it feels as if it's the natural state of things.

But once she noticed, sure enough, she couldn't remember seeing him in days. Almost four days had gone by since he'd decided to last come in for work, as far as she'd been able to tell.

Maybe he was at the other location. There was work to be done there, no doubt. But if he was, the man hadn't called her. She stands up and walks over to the punch-in cards. Sure enough, it shows that he's been punching himself in. And he's been punching himself out, too, at the end of every day.

So it's hard to believe, to say the least, that he's not coming in. And yet, she hasn't seen him. What that means, she's going to have to find time later to unpack. Right now isn't the time for it.

She takes a deep breath. There's a number on her desk with a circle around it. The circle goes around and around, three times, before crossing back across itself. Like if she circles it enough times, it'll be a number she's happy with.

There's a phone right by the pad of paper. She could call any time. But she won't, not today. Maybe not tomorrow, either. She hasn't decided yet. But she's going to have to decide at some point.

She's going to have to figure out what she's going to do with him. It wasn't supposed to have been a concern at all. She was there to buy his property. Nothing more. Then things had gotten a little more complicated. Then they'd gotten a lot more complicated.

Now it seemed like he was practically all she had time to think about. It was one thing to say that it wasn't effecting her work. She was a professional. Of course she wasn't letting it affect her work.

But that didn't mean that she could lie to herself about the situation. Her head hadn't been in her business for two weeks now. For two weeks, she hadn't been doing her job because she was too unsure about this god damn ranch, and about the guy who owns it.

Her father was fond of a saying—shit, or get off the pot.

Well, she'd been waffling for two weeks, and it was time to make the decision, before it up and walked away. There weren't going to be infinite chances to make this deal without hurting one or both of them.

In fact, she might already be past that point. It wasn't hard to imagine that he saw their relationship as more than just friendly. Morgan couldn't deny that she saw it in about the same way.

If she could make the deal, and she could do it without screwing him over, without spitting in his face, maybe that could continue. Maybe they'd have something together.

Which is why she's not calling.

Five-fifty is a screwjob. It's practically an outright attack. But she's looked at the numbers. She's looked hard. It's the only starting point she can offer. If the conversation pushes the number higher, she can offer more. Not much more.

Beyond that, she's hurting herself. She's hurting her company. But that's business.

Six wasn't what she wanted to offer. It was low of what she wanted.

Seven was low, and it would have hurt bad enough that she can't afford to have them come to that number. Not unless she really can't make the deal without it.

She takes a breath. Nothing to debate or decide any more. She's got to make the call, and she's got to do it before she gets in any deeper with Phil Callahan.

The ringer goes off right as she's trying to get her breathing slowed down, as she's trying to wrangle her twisting stomach into something resembling confidence.

She picks the phone up. It's Philip calling. A picture of him, his face surly and somehow looking just terribly like him, shows on her screen.

She wants just five more minutes. But she can't have five minutes. Her thumb flicks the button and she puts the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"