Cowboy Casanova - Lorelei James [44]
Dalton shrugged. “Evidently she put up her land as collateral when she borrowed the money to build that bed and breakfast.”
“It’s not uncommon to borrow against equity.”
“She borrowed the maximum amount of the equity and hasn’t made a single payment on it for over a year.”
That shocked him. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah. The bank has given her a lot of leeway, but unless she pays at least six months of the amount she’s in arrears, in the next forty-five days, Settler’s First will start foreclosure proceedings.”
“Holy shit.” Ben wasn’t surprised Rielle hadn’t shared that information; the Wetzlers always had a serious distrust about “the man” and the McKay family. Plus, Rielle already felt guilty about not paying him for his handyman help. Or the new beds he’d handcrafted. “Her money troubles ain’t common knowledge?”
Tell shook his head.
“How’d you find this out?”
An unspoken communication passed between them. Then Dalton said, “Rory.”
“Rory just told you this?”
Dalton pushed his hat up an inch. “Rory didn’t just blurt it out. I went to Laramie last weekend to hang out with my buddies and I saw Rory in the bar. She’d just finished her shift and was takin’ advantage of the employee discount by doin’ a shit ton of shots. Some assholes were bothering her so I kept ’em away.” He sighed. “Rory don’t drink, so the booze hit her like a cattle truck. Then she started cryin’ about how her mama used every penny they had to put her through college. And she’d wanted to get a job after she graduated, but Rielle told her it was more important she finish grad school since it was basically free.”
“Christ.”
“I don’t think Rory knew what the fuck she was even sayin’. I couldn’t leave her there, so her boss told me where Rory lived. I took her home.” He scowled. “She tossed her cookies in my truck and on me.”
“Just like when you used to baby-sit her, huh?” Tell teased.
“Go to hell. I never babysat her.”
“I remember. You ran nekkid through the woods with her playing Tarzan and Jane. Or Adam and Eve. Or…doctor.”
Dalton ignored him. “So when Rory called me the next day to apologize for barfing on me, I didn’t mention she’d been a freakin’ blabbermouth. And if she did remember, I doubt she’s gonna confess to Rielle that she told their financial sob story to a McKay.”
“While I appreciate you tellin’ me this, I gotta ask…why?”
Tell leaned forward. “The way we see it, Rielle would probably rather sell the land, or part of it, than lose it entirely when it gets foreclosed on. So we’re thinkin’ we should approach her with a business proposition. We’ll make the cash payments to catch her up on the bank loan to stave off the foreclosure—if she’ll divide up the back half of her land and sell it to us. That way it’d be McKay land, from your place to ours, as it should’ve been before my dad fucked it up all those years ago.”
Ben gave them credit for quick thinking. “We’ve always wanted that creek front section. But they’ve always refused to sell.”
“It don’t look like Rielle’s got an option now. The sale of that acreage will give her enough money to keep her bed and breakfast open if she wants.”
“Who else have you talked to about this?”
“No one,” Dalton said. “Not even Brandt.”
“Why not?”
“Because as much as we appreciate that Brandt’s a hard worker, he’s a damn do-gooder. He’ll see even talkin’ to Rielle as takin’ advantage of her. We don’t see it that way. We figured you wouldn’t either. So, we’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Quinn.”
It clicked. “Quinn would feel the same as Brandt.”
Tell nodded. “You’re practical, Ben. And to some extent, unsentimental, like us. It’s just business.”
“Good business,” Dalton inserted. “It has to be just the three of us, if we can swing it.”
“Because you don’t want Uncle Carson or Uncle Cal to get wind of this either.”
“And buy it right out from under us? Fuck no. But it ain’t like the purchase wouldn’t benefit the entire McKay ranching operation. It’d just give both our families a little more land, a little more pull, and maybe a little more respect. I mean,