The Country Rose

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Austen sat in his living room, his head resting in the palm of his hands. It had taken four days to clear the ranch of all debris left by the storm on top of their regular duties. He was thankful none of the animals were harmed, but he still felt like a jar of rocks was settled in the bottom of his stomach. They weren't in the clear just yet.

"Tell me again why you're worried about the ranch," his grandpa, Martin Sr., said from the armchair across from him. His and Kinsley's typical Sunday brunch with the grandparents had turned into a full-blown discussion about the ranch the second Martin and Evelyn caught a gust of the gossip wind.

"Because we had to use our competition funds to pay for fixing the stable," Austen said, his gaze never leaving the floor as he rubbed his temples.

"I thought you boys fixed it yourselves?"

Austen nodded as he met the familiar green-eyed stare that ran through the Philips bloodline. One look at Martin Sr. and anyone could see the years working the fields had taken a toll on the old man. Hours spent working under the harsh rays of the sun were written in every deep wrinkle, but there was something in his emerald stare that said he was proud of each crease. Proof of a life lived well, Martin would've said.

"We did," Austen replied. "But the lumber wasn't cheap, and it certainly doesn't look professional so eventually it will have to be redone. We also lost a lot of feed for the herd. The wind blew it steer across the ranch. Mr. Song pulled out King and stabled him with the Johnsons in the county over. He said it was just until we could get back on our feet, but I have a bad feeling it was a permanent move."

"Why do you say that?" his grandma asked as she made her way into the living room with a new pitcher of sweet tea. Unlike his gramps, the years had been kind to Evelyn Philips. All bit of five foot three, she could be as sweet as sugar one moment and tanning his hide the next. Even as she reached her seventies, Austen wouldn't dare cross her.

Smiling softly, he said, "Because it's not secret that Shelby wants me to sell. She says she knows a guy who would pay above asking price, and I wouldn't put it past her to tell the Songs that it's already a done deal."

Martin shook his head. "Song's a good man, but he didn' grow up here. There's no loyalty."

Kinsley scoffed beside them. Distaste filled her tone as she said, "Shelby's family has been here as long as ours and the only loyalty she has is to herself."

"Kinsley," Evelyn scolded.

"Well, it's true. People love her because she was the mayor's wife and the judge's daughter, but she doesn't care about us or this ranch. And I bet you anything that Tara's only interests in this place are being pushed by her mama."

With the swiftness only practiced by years of playing matriarch, Evelyn snatched up a magazine from the coffee table and swatted her only granddaughter. "This may be your home, but you don't disrespect other's in it without proof they did you wrong."

Kinsley rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile. "Oh trust me. There's proof. She could've cared less about what my brother's done these last few years. Suddenly, she owns part of the ranch and she's on our doorstep every chance she gets, batting her eyes and shaking her ass like a mule in heat."

That earned Kinsley another smack. Austen almost choked on his beer. Anyone with their background in breeding horses knew a mule even having the chance at reproducing was a rare thing. They were sterile creatures, a product of a male donkey and female horse. But Kinsley's obvious low blow comparison wasn't that far fetched. When they first broke up, Tara flaunted herself in front of Austen every chance she had, but all that had ceased the moment she left for college. He thought they had both moved on, something every small Towner had to deal with after a break up. But then they all lost Charles Clark. He was a man of high standards who believed in helping everyone he could. A man Austen owed his complete loyalty too. That's when Tara's sudden advances began. First she came with peach cobblers and potpies. Next, she was crying on his shoulder as she sought comfort for the father she had lost. He understood her pain, but Austen didn't know how much more he could take. The life she wanted from him was far more than what he was willing to give.