you morons managed to screw up?”
Chance tuned out the conversation, stewing in his own anger. He looked up to catch Cord studying him, his brother’s expression both speculative and serious. He stared back. They were all chips off the old man’s block and where Chance had once had some pride in that, now he wondered. Why the hell did he try so hard to win this man’s respect? Forget love. Cyrus Barron only loved power and money. Yet Chance had spent his entire life trying to please the old bastard.
“Blood sticks together, boys. And you’d all better remember that. No one takes care of a Barron but another Barron. The rest of the world doesn’t give a damn so why should we give a damn about them? Family is all that matters. You all clear on that?”
Silence reigned in the void left by the old man’s departure. Even the phones in Clay’s office had stopped ringing. Chase pushed his chair away from the conference table, stood and presented his backside to his brothers.
“Is there anything left?” He
whewed
dramatically as everyone chuckled. “Nice to know something’s still there after that ass chewing.” He turned back around and focused his gaze on Chance. “Do us all a favor. End this thing with the Morgan girl, get the job done and get the hell out of Dodge. There’s not a woman alive who’s worth the old man’s wrath.”
Chance remained still, staring at all of them in turn. “This doesn’t bother any of you?”
Clay’s exasperated voice issued from the monitor. “Since when did you go all noble, Chance? I don’t have time for all this crap. Do your job.” The monitor flickered to a blue screen.
Cash and Chase, like the twins they were, walked out shoulder to shoulder without a word, leaving Chance and Cord at the table.
“What?” He glared at his older brother.
“Man, you have it bad.” Cord shook his head from side to side, his expression solemn. “You really need to get over this girl.”
“Why? Tell me why we have to destroy
her
?”
Cord leaned back in his chair and for a moment, Chance thought his brother would prop his boots up on the highly polished wood of the table. “Why not? It’s what the old man wants. And what the old man wants—”
“The old man gets. Yeah, yeah. We’ve been saying that our entire lives, Cord. But what makes him right?”
Cord laughed, a deep, rolling laugh straight from the gut. “I never said the old bastard was right, Chance. But he is who he is. He’s always run roughshod over anyone who got in his way. This time, it just happens to be a gal you have the hots for.”
If looks could kill, as the old saying went, Chance’s brother would have been BBQ. “Shut up, Cordell.” He pushed to his feet and strode out the door, his brother’s laughter following in his wake.
Nine
C hance chewed on the handful of antacids he’d just taken. Outside his office window, Oklahoma City spread out to the southwest like a crazy quilt of buildings, parks and river. Sunlight glinted off the fuselage of a plane lining up for a landing on a runway at Will Rogers International Airport.
The door opened behind him but he didn’t turn until he heard a heavy body drop into one of the wingback chairs arranged in front of his desk.
“I don’t really want to talk to you.”
Cord tilted his head. “Fine. Don’t talk. I just want you to listen anyway.”
“Didn’t you say enough downstairs?”
“No. I said what the old man wants to hear when he plays back the tapes of the meeting.”
Chance pressed his palms on his desk and leaned forward. He glowered, hoping to cover up the despair he really felt. “Just toeing the family line then?” When Cord didn’t reply, he sank into his desk chair. He closed his eyes and dragged the fingers of one hand through his once carefully combed hair. “Dammit.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Cord? Let’s trade places if you think this is so easy. Let me run the ranch and the
Chance tuned out the conversation, stewing in his own anger. He looked up to catch Cord studying him, his brother’s expression both speculative and serious. He stared back. They were all chips off the old man’s block and where Chance had once had some pride in that, now he wondered. Why the hell did he try so hard to win this man’s respect? Forget love. Cyrus Barron only loved power and money. Yet Chance had spent his entire life trying to please the old bastard.
“Blood sticks together, boys. And you’d all better remember that. No one takes care of a Barron but another Barron. The rest of the world doesn’t give a damn so why should we give a damn about them? Family is all that matters. You all clear on that?”
Silence reigned in the void left by the old man’s departure. Even the phones in Clay’s office had stopped ringing. Chase pushed his chair away from the conference table, stood and presented his backside to his brothers.
“Is there anything left?” He
whewed
dramatically as everyone chuckled. “Nice to know something’s still there after that ass chewing.” He turned back around and focused his gaze on Chance. “Do us all a favor. End this thing with the Morgan girl, get the job done and get the hell out of Dodge. There’s not a woman alive who’s worth the old man’s wrath.”
Chance remained still, staring at all of them in turn. “This doesn’t bother any of you?”
Clay’s exasperated voice issued from the monitor. “Since when did you go all noble, Chance? I don’t have time for all this crap. Do your job.” The monitor flickered to a blue screen.
Cash and Chase, like the twins they were, walked out shoulder to shoulder without a word, leaving Chance and Cord at the table.
“What?” He glared at his older brother.
“Man, you have it bad.” Cord shook his head from side to side, his expression solemn. “You really need to get over this girl.”
“Why? Tell me why we have to destroy
her
?”
Cord leaned back in his chair and for a moment, Chance thought his brother would prop his boots up on the highly polished wood of the table. “Why not? It’s what the old man wants. And what the old man wants—”
“The old man gets. Yeah, yeah. We’ve been saying that our entire lives, Cord. But what makes him right?”
Cord laughed, a deep, rolling laugh straight from the gut. “I never said the old bastard was right, Chance. But he is who he is. He’s always run roughshod over anyone who got in his way. This time, it just happens to be a gal you have the hots for.”
If looks could kill, as the old saying went, Chance’s brother would have been BBQ. “Shut up, Cordell.” He pushed to his feet and strode out the door, his brother’s laughter following in his wake.
Nine
C hance chewed on the handful of antacids he’d just taken. Outside his office window, Oklahoma City spread out to the southwest like a crazy quilt of buildings, parks and river. Sunlight glinted off the fuselage of a plane lining up for a landing on a runway at Will Rogers International Airport.
The door opened behind him but he didn’t turn until he heard a heavy body drop into one of the wingback chairs arranged in front of his desk.
“I don’t really want to talk to you.”
Cord tilted his head. “Fine. Don’t talk. I just want you to listen anyway.”
“Didn’t you say enough downstairs?”
“No. I said what the old man wants to hear when he plays back the tapes of the meeting.”
Chance pressed his palms on his desk and leaned forward. He glowered, hoping to cover up the despair he really felt. “Just toeing the family line then?” When Cord didn’t reply, he sank into his desk chair. He closed his eyes and dragged the fingers of one hand through his once carefully combed hair. “Dammit.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Cord? Let’s trade places if you think this is so easy. Let me run the ranch and the
Similar Books
