Page 25 of The Mountain Echoes

“To Maverick Kincaid?”

I’m reminded of his piercing blue eyes that looked at me with such suspicion—another man who’s buying my sister’s lies.

“He made an offer,” Nadine says. “Enough to clear the debt and…set you and Celine up decent.”

“Generous,” I say, bitter.

I know Nadine doesn’t want to sell Longhorn, but she’s practical. “He’s got horses, organic crops. He says he wants to expand—wants to take care of Longhorn, make it what it was one day, maybe more.”

Earl grunts. “Mav says a lot of things.”

I push away from the table and rise.

I feel as if the ranch is held together by rusted nails and pure will. It’s gut-wrenching.

“Looks like we’ve got a few weeks before theGunnison auction to turn this place into a miracle,” I announce.

Papa bled for this land.

I won’t let it go down without a fight.

Nadine grins. “I’m game. How about you, Earl?”

“You know me, Nadine. I love a good fight.” Earl stands up and tips his hat at me. “I better get movin’ then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “We’re gonna fix the fences, feed the herd, clean this place up, and bring in the kind of cattle that make the auctioneers fight over us. If Maverick wants Longhorn, he can damn well watch me save it first.”

“Amen,” Nadine agrees.

“Let me talk to Amos and”—I pause as a thought strikes me—"maybe we should wait until the will is read? Who knows what Papa did!”

If he left it all to Celine, it would crush me.

Nadine gives me a wry look and shakes her head as if disappointed with me. “He’d never do what you’re thinking.”

I nod once and give her a tight smile.

ButI don’t believe her.

CHAPTER 6

maverick

Ibought Blackwood Prime, the premium (and only) steakhouse in Wildflower Canyon, when I first moved here.

I’d just bought a ranch that became Kincaid Farms, and I had money I wanted to invest. Since I love a good steak, I thought, why the hell not?

Moving to Wildflower Canyon had been a calculated decision.

I sold the ranch that had been in my family for three generations—1,200 acres of prime Texas land that had seen more droughts and developers in the past decade than it had rain.

It wasn’t a decision I made lightly. That land held my childhood, my parents’ memories, and the long days and longer nights that shaped me into the man I am.

But when the zoning committee voted to approve a luxury golf resort right on the edge of our property line, I knew it was time to go.

I wasn’t about to spend the rest of my life staring at a bulldozer eating through mesquite and brushland while tourists sipped cocktails in what used to be a cattle pasture.

I didn’t want that for myself, and sure as hell not for my sister.