Too Hot to Handle (Jackson Hole 2)

“It was Levi’s idea!” Jeanine said on a rush.

“What was?” Merry asked as the others tried to shush the woman.

But Levi just sighed and scrubbed at his neck again before t

ucking the handkerchief away. “There’s a bit of a lawsuit.”

“A bit of one?”

“Well.” He folded his hands on the table. “Aside from the Providence town plot, Gideon left all the land to his grandson. The boy doesn’t want the town, but he’s fighting the trust, so the money is a little…tied up for a time.”

“How long of a time?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

They all shifted in their seats and traded looks again. “We’re not exactly sure,” Jeanine finally admitted.

“But I don’t understand! You brought me out here to work!”

“Well, yes…” Jeanine offered a sympathetic smile. “Of course, but… We decided to hire you as more of a strategic move.”

Kristen snorted. “You decided!”

Jeanine glared at her. “The judge freed up a small amount of the trust for administrative costs. We decided our best move would be to go forward with Gideon’s plans, or at least give the appearance of doing so. It gives us a position of power. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all that.”

“The appearance,” Merry murmured, too shocked to say more. The appearance. They hadn’t wanted her at all. This wasn’t her big chance to succeed. This was just a move in a legal battle.

Marvin, who up to this point hadn’t said a word to Merry, sat forward and cleared his throat. “None of this nonsense is your concern. You’re being paid. Let these idiots spin their wheels and you keep your head down and do what you can.”

“With what?” she snapped. “Tumbleweeds?”

“You’re the idiot, Marvin Black!” Kristen screeched. “You’re the one who planted this whole damn nonsense in Gideon’s head in the first place. All your big ideas about history and heritage!”

“Bah! If you can’t live on what he left you, then you’re nothing but a spendthrift floozy, anyway. Gideon wanted to build a legacy.”

“A legacy,” she scoffed. “More like a fool’s errand.”

“Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, what are you even doing here?”

Merry listened to them snipe at each other, but she didn’t really hear them. She was reeling. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked no one.

Levi answered. “We’ll try to get more funds released for you next month. In the meantime, you should definitely visit the county historical society. See what you find.” He patted her hand in dismissal, and Merry let herself be dismissed.

She stood and wandered out onto the front porch of the home where Gideon Bishop had lived his whole life. He’d died here, in Kristen’s loving arms, according to her, and he’d left behind a legacy that nobody much cared about. Gideon had only had one child. A son from his first marriage who had run off decades before. And then two grandsons he hadn’t spoken to in years. Gideon had ended up with more money than any one person could need, and he’d sunk everything into a stupid ghost town. Just like Merry.

But she’d misunderstood. She’d thought the trust had brought her here because they’d believed in her. She’d been surprised at the call. Overwhelmed, actually. And overjoyed. But in that moment she’d known that her passion had shown through and eclipsed the wild inconsistencies in her résumé. The letter she’d written had moved them, and they’d chosen her to bring Providence to life.

Or…they’d chosen her because she was the cheapest clearance item they could get away with passing off as legitimate in court. They hadn’t believed in her at all. She was a placeholder. And this would be another failure in her life.

Merry raced down the steps of the wide front porch and jumped into her car, wanting to escape before the tears fell. She almost made it, but the first fat drops slipped off her cheeks before she’d slammed the car door.

They hadn’t meant for her to succeed here. They hadn’t meant for her to do anything. “Those shitty old…coots.” God, she couldn’t even bring herself to call them something they really deserved. She wasn’t tough that way. She wasn’t hard enough. She was dandelion fluff, floating in the wind.

Angry at her own self-assessment, Merry threw the car into Reverse and hit the gas pedal. This was a good place to get her emotions out with a wild ride. After all, she was out in the middle of nowhere at the end of the dirt road. There was nothing out here except sagebrush and—

A hard clunk interrupted her daring thoughts and sent her stomach tumbling. She slammed on the brakes as her mind raced through all the possibilities. That hadn’t been sagebrush, but it had been solid. Not a sweet sheepdog or a barn cat or… She pulled forward a few feet and then scrambled out, her eyes flying over the dried-out grass at the edge of the yard.

The mailbox. The mailbox. Oh, shit. It was a white wooden number with the name Bishop spelled out in custom black letters across the top of the box. And now it was lying on the ground like the victim of an assassination.

Oh, God. She glanced toward the house. She couldn’t just leave it there. It would look as if she’d done it deliberately because they’d insulted her. And she couldn’t go back in and confess, because she’d left in a huff and their only apparent attachment to her was her cheap price tag.