Homecoming Ranch by Julia London Page A

his hands as if the problem were solved.
    “Jesus, this
is
a chick flick,” Emma said incredulously. She stood up. “Do you have any bourbon to go with that Coke?”
    “I wish,” Jackson said apologetically. “Listen, I know this is all a bit of a surprise. But I think it could work. Before Grant died, he spent what he had left on advertising this great retreat. The Johnson family—they’re out of Texas—was looking for a place just like this to have their family reunion. A place where they can camp, and the kids can raft and hike, and the men can barbeque, and honestly, I don’t know what all. But I drew up a contract and they signed, and so did Grant, and they paid their deposit, and the estate must honor that contract. It would cost you more to try and get out of it than to just do it.”
    “Do what?” Madeline demanded, lifting her head.
    “Now don’t get upset, ladies. There is still a lot to be done,” Jackson said. He took another long drink of his soda and crushed the can, the first outward sign that he was as uncomfortable as they were. “Ernest will be back this week, and he can do a lot of it. But we might need to hire some of the work out.”
    “Such as?” Luke asked.
    “For starters, we have the bunkhouse showers—”
    “Shower,” Luke corrected him.
    “Shower, right, at least at this moment. We need to build a separation for men and women and maybe add a few temporary showers. Maybe a few. We need to round up horses for horseback riding, move the cattle up to lease grazing, and hopefully make a deal with some river guides for rafting. The good news is I’ve already done a lot. The tents will be delivered tomorrow. Barbeque pits come next week. But we’ll need someone here to manage it all. Which could be one of you!” he said, as if he were a game-show host.
    “Where’d you get the money for that?” Luke asked.
    Jackson shrugged. “I sold his Porsche. It was a classic. I got enough to cover the initial improvements.”
    Emma slowly resumed her seat. “Is it just me, or does anyone else notice how screwed up this is?”
    “Me,” Madeline said, raising her hand. “This is… this is not what I thought, Jackson. I can’t stick around for this. I have a life and a business in Orlando. There has to be another way.”
    “No,” Jackson said quickly and firmly. “Unfortunately, no, at least not in the immediate future. And there are a few other issues that Luke alluded to we should probably discuss at another time. You know, once you’ve had a chance to absorb this.”
    Madeline rubbed her temples. “This is crazy.
Crazy
! There is no plan, no organization.…”
    No highlighter,
Luke thought.
    “What other issues?” Emma asked. “Get them out. I don’t want to hear about them later, I want to know what the hell is going on here now. All of it, Jackson.”
    Jackson looked at Luke.
    So did the women, three pairs of suspicious female eyes trained on him.
    Luke sighed. “There were some mitigating circumstances in the deal our fathers made. They were friends, supposedly—or at least my dad believes that they were—and he believed that your dad was helping him out.” He shook his head. He was making it more complicated than it had to be. “So Grant gave my dad the cash he needed for some financial issues, and the deal was that when my dad repaid the loan, he’d get the place back. At the same price.”
    Libby and Emma looked at him blankly. But Madeline’s brows dipped.
    “It was a gentleman’s agreement. Mine needed some cash. Grant had some cash and offered to help him out.”
    “He didn’t have as much cash as he thought,” Jackson muttered.
    “Nevertheless, the agreement was that as soon as my dad could pay him back, Grant would sell the ranch back to him at the same cost. But then Grant died and left my dad in a bind.”
    “Is there a contract for that agreement?” Madeline asked.
    “Nope,” Jackson said, clearly knowing where she was going with it.
    “Not to