Cash (Lucky River Ranch, #1)

by Jessica Peterson

Without thinking, I hit his number and bring the phone to my ear. It rings and rings, until, finally, his voice mail picks up. Goose bumps break out on my arms at the sound of his gravelly timbre. “You’ve reached Garrett Luck. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Have a good one, y’all.” My face crumples. His voice mail beeps. If I’m still so angry, why can’t I stop fucking crying? Anger means yelling. It means frosty silences and heated exchanges. It does not mean crying your eyes out every time you think about the person you loved but hated, too. I hang up, wishing all the while I could ask him why he put that stipulation in his will. Maybe I wouldn’t hate the idea of living in Hartsville so much if I understood why he wanted me there. He had his chance to bring me back to the ranch—many chances, in fact, over the course of many years—but he never did. Why insist on it now? The thought comes out of nowhere: Cash might have the answer to that question. He said he was close with Dad. Who better to ask than the man who apparently worked side by side with Dad for over a decade? Too bad Cash is a jackass. I’d rather pry my eyeballs out of my head with a rusty spoon than talk to him again. I just wish I had other options.