A passel of kids? That didn’t sound so bad to Libby. “Chance just topped a million dollars. I doubt he lives in a trailer park.”
Her father’s eyebrows arched. “That much? Well, he always was a reckless SOB. But I’ll check with Jeb Groton at the law office and get his advice. Jeb said that if Chance decided to protest, he’d have a rough road to prove we didn’t try to find him. Hell, he was working God knows how many rodeos. How could we be expected to track him down? And why wouldn’t he want the divorce legal if he’s got a million dollars to protect? No, I expect we can just send a notary down there to the rodeo and get him to sign. Better to clean it up now though, while he’s got some money to protect and before you tie the knot with Ben.”
“Promise me you will just get the papers to him, have him sign, and that will be the end of it.”
Her father scowled. “Just so long as he does sign. It’s past time to put Chance Cochran behind you and focus on the future. And it’s a hell of a future you’ve got ahead of you, Libby. And then I can look forward to taking things easier. What with you taking over Casper and your brother heading up Cheyenne, I’ll be able to retire.” She figured he chuckled because he knew he was lying.
Brennan Motors was his baby, and he would be involved until either his mind or his body failed. Too bad she didn’t feel the same way about the family business. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the inevitable argument, an argument she didn’t have much odds of winning, but she had to try.
“Does it matter at all to you that I don’t want to do this, Daddy? That I don’t want to sell cars?”
He rubbed a hand across his face and closed his eyes. For a second, Libby’s heart thudded with concern. But only for a second. When he opened those eyes of his, sheer determination stared back at her.
“Does it matter to you that your daddy needs you? That I need you, Libby.”
“There has to be someone else. Ed Farley knows the business better than I do. He’s been selling cars there for twenty years.”
“I can’t trust just anyone with the business. Your brother has taken over Cheyenne. I need you at Casper so I can concentrate on getting Laramie back to where it needs to be. Look, I don’t expect you to be super-saleswoman. That’s what you’ve got Ed and the other salespeople for. But I could use your ideas. You must have learned something at that fancy eastern university.”
She knew it wasn’t her ideas he wanted so much as someone who would implement his ideas. He would always call the shots.
“Besides, Ed Farley ain’t family.” Her father shook his head as if he was frustrated she didn’t understand. “I’d have to give him a piece of the business, and there isn’t enough right now to do that, not without hurting you and your brother—and me.”
“I don’t understand. The dealerships have always made money.” More and more each year.
“While you’ve been away at school, you ever read a newspaper? The car business ain’t what it was. People aren’t buying cars like they were and certainly not trucks. Besides, you got a better offer in this goddamn economy?” he huffed, obviously confident she did not.
And he was right.
She’d been looking. She’d had a nibble from the Western Stock Show in Denver regarding a job in the public relations department promoting its annual event, but she was far from the finish line. And no doubt, with her father’s connections, he already knew that.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a long, erect black tail. Cowboy, the stray cat she’d found along the road to the house last month, was looking for food. Luckily, she’d already put out something for him. She watched the tail, and the velvety body it was attached to, make a beeline for the bowl.
“I’m putting up with that cat, ain’t I?” her father growled, evidently having seen her pet too. “That should be worth some loyalty. You and your strays.”
“He’s a good cat.” If a bit territorial.
It wasn’t just saying yes to the job in Casper and once the job market improved, she could look for a new job. If she said yes now, she’d be dealing cars for the rest of her life. She knew it. He knew it.
“I need you, Libby. I’m no spring chicken, in case you haven’t noticed. Try as I do, I can’t handle everything like I used to. I’m asking as your father. Help me.” His expression had turned serious, his plea heartfelt.
How could she refuse? Libby took a deep, resigning breath before she nodded her agreement.
“I knew you’d see reason.”
“Libby, see reason? About what?” Her brother, his feet bare, shuffled into the kitchen as he wiped sleep from his blue eyes. Doug was bare-chested, dressed in a pair of crumpled jeans, jeans that appeared to have been slept in. His dark hair was disheveled, and he hadn’t shaved yet. She’d left last night right after her talk with Chance. No doubt her brother had stayed out late carousing.