“This is a bad deal. We might be able to argue coercion or something like it, and at least keep a sale tied up long enough that any potential buyer walks away. That way, you’d have time to get the money together to buy it,” he advised. “But there’s really nothing to fight. If you do, you won’t win. The laws around real estate protect the buyer. Even dead ones.”
In essence, Luke had to make his new company work in order to generate enough money to buy back the ranch. Because any other money he had would go toward tying up a potential sale, prolonging it long enough to give him time to raise the money—money he was in danger of losing because he kept getting called back to Pine River. It was a desperate circle.
When Luke came out of the attorney’s office, he noticed that clouds had moved in over Denver, thick and gray, hanging low. The temperature had dropped ten to fifteen degrees.
Madeline was waiting for him at the Economy car lot, shivering in a little sweater that tied up under her breasts and a turquoise sundress with yellow sunflowers dancing around the hem. She had a small bag that hung across her body, looped over her shoulder. And she was holding two bags from Target.
After the day he’d had, it made him strangely happy to see her.
He pulled up alongside the curb and lowered the passenger window of his truck. “Everything squared away?”
She looked slightly taken aback by his question, which he thought was a little odd, but then she smiled and the dimples appeared again. “I think so. Are you ready?”
“I am. Climb in.”
She opened the door, slung her Target bags behind the passenger seat, and climbed up, leaning over just enough to give Luke a nice view of her cleavage. She pulled the door shut behind her and folded her arms tightly across her and looked at him. “I’m freezing.”
Luke turned on the heat. “We have to swing by my house and get the Bronco, if that’s okay.”
“Sure!” She huddled forward, her legs pressed together, her feet still in the hiking boots, but today, thick socks were pulled up to her knees. Her dark hair had been whipped by the wind, and spilled across her back in an appealing tangle of silky strands. “The clouds came from nowhere,” she said. “I was so busy, I didn’t even notice them.”
“Did you finish what you needed to do?”
She smiled at him. “I got a lot done. I love days like this when I can tick off my tasks, one by one. What about you?”
“I guess I did what I needed to do,” he said, pulling into traffic. He didn’t care to elaborate. He was trying to forget it. “I don’t feel like I left anything hanging, anyway.”
“See? Organization. You don’t know for sure, whereas I know I don’t have anything left, because I made a list.”
“And I bet you highlighted the tasks as you finished them.”
Madeline laughed. “Am I that obvious?”
She was so pretty when she laughed that he couldn’t help but smile back. “A little.”
“You’re obvious, too, Luke Kendrick,” she said. “I bet you think no one can read you.”
“Of course no one can read me,” he said confidently. “I’m a guy. We are trained from an early age.”
“I knew it!” she cried triumphantly. “And I bet you are one of those guys who shows up to work and looks around and thinks, I should do that,” she said pointing into space. “And maybe that. And maybe that if I have time before lunch, but if I don’t, oh well, I’ll get to it one of these days.”
Now Luke laughed outright. “Construction does not lend itself to tidy little tasks, Maddie. My days are spent keeping lids on boiling pots.”
“And you think selling houses doesn’t have pots?” She snorted at that, and dug one of the Target bags out from behind the seat. She was jubilant as she paused to examine the sack’s contents.
“So in all that highlighting, you still had time for a little shopping?”
“No. I made time to pick up a few things I need.” She gave him a pert smile. “Important things, like underwear,” she said gravely. “And lotion. I’m turning into an alligator.”
It sure didn’t look like that from where Luke was sitting.
Madeline peered into her bag. “I picked up some extra socks, too. My feet have been so cold. Oh, and this,” she said, and pulled out a bear whistle. A cheap, souvenir-type bear whistle that wouldn’t be useful in any situation, except maybe calling a well-trained dog. But Madeline draped it around her neck, and the thing nestled between two mounds of cream. She looked so proud of herself that he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her purchase was useless at Homecoming Ranch.
“And some hair thingies.”
“Can’t have enough hair thingies,” he said.
“You really can’t,” she agreed, and chatted about her day until he pulled into the drive of his house.
Only then did Madeline stop talking. She squinted at his bungalow, which he’d painted a sunny yellow with white trim. “Wow,” she said approvingly. “Great curb appeal.”
“I should hope so. I’ve spent a lot of time landscaping.” He opened the driver door. “I just need to grab a couple of things.”
“Mind if I look inside?” she asked, her hand on the door handle. Luke hesitated, but she quickly added, “I like houses, I really do. I just want to see.”