“Want some coffee?”
“Sure, thanks.” Reese made himself comfortable at the table, watching her pour the coffee. There was an economy to Shay’s motions. He found himself wondering how she had survived in the Marine Corps. At one time, she might have been a lot stronger, before the PTSD hit. When she turned, he admired the pale yellow, short-sleeved T she wore. It lovingly outlined her breasts and long torso. The way her hips moved, that female fluidity, he felt himself responding whether he wanted to or not.
“Okay,” Shay said, sliding the mug into his hands and sitting down at his elbow, “What did you find?”
“Things that I need to go over with you in some detail.” He gave her a slight smile. “You’re the only one who knows all the ins and outs of this ranch.” He saw Shay frown.
“What’s wrong?”
He heard the trepidation in her low tone. He slid one paper in her direction so she could look at it. “I know you told me the savings account belonged to your father, but it doesn’t, Shay. And you knew that too, because Eddy, the lawyer, discussed it with you right after you got home. I talked to Eddy yesterday and he agreed the savings account belongs to the ranch, so it’s a legally binding amendment that can stand a court test, if necessary.” He tapped the SAVINGS line. “Legally, that money is yours, as you know, and not his.”
“I know,” she muttered, pulling the paper closer to look at the numbers. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not touching his money, Reese.”
“I understand,” he soothed. “But here’s the problem.” He brought out two more papers and ran his finger down one column of numbers. “I’m beginning to understand the pressure you’re under. If you fail to make one mortgage payment, the bank will immediately foreclose, take the ranch and every asset attached to the property.”
Grimly, Shay nodded. “I’m very well aware of the possibility.”
“Okay,” Reese murmured, “then we need to do something to protect your father’s savings, because the bank would take all of it.” He saw her eyes widen.
“But that’s his savings!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Reese said apologetically, watching the stress come to her eyes. “When I gave this hypothetical to Eddy, he said that the bank has a right to take everything. Even the savings account money.” He saw her shock, and without thinking, Reese reached out, and enclosed her hand. “I don’t want you upset over this. There’s a fix for it, Shay. Just listen to me.” Forcing himself, he removed his hand from hers. “We can legally remove the savings account money from the ranch property. All your father and you have to do is sign a paper making it so. I’m not saying we’ll default on a mortgage payment, but just in case it does happen, we need to protect your father’s hard-earned money.”
“There’s a way to protect it?” She leaned forward, looking at the numbers. “Really?”
Reese saw her expression become less tense. “Yes. Eddy gave me the instructions on how to do it, but I need to talk to your father directly. Can that be done? I know you’re going in today to see him.” Reese saw her lean back, confusion in her eyes for a moment.
“He’s not a pleasant person to be around, Reese.”
Hearing the warning in her tone, he nodded. “That’s okay. I’ll get along with him.”
“Good luck.” She pushed her fingers through her hair. “I never realized if I missed a payment on the mortgage that his savings would be gone! He’d be out in the street.”
“Don’t go there,” Reese urged her gently. “You couldn’t have known this. And we’re catching it now. If I can explain it to your father, I’m sure he’ll be happy to sign a document that will remove his savings from the ranch assets.”
“He doesn’t trust anyone,” she muttered, shaking her head. “He doesn’t know you, Reese.”
“No, but you’ll be with me. Vouch for me so I can explain this issue to him. Eddy has emailed me with all the information to draw up the document. He does trust Eddy.” He saw such worry in her face that it tore him up. “Why are you so nervous about us meeting?”
“Because he hates that I’ve turned the ranch into a place for helping vets with PTSD,” she whispered. “And once he knows you’re one of the vets . . .” Shay opened her hands, giving him a helpless look. “He’s almost always in a bad mood, Reese. Some of it’s because of the pain in his head. The rest of it”—she sighed—“is not being able to drink alcohol anymore, though I suspect he has someone sneaking it in. He’s gone through detox, but he’s always angry . . .”
“Then,” Reese said quietly, holding her anxious gaze, “we’ll just persevere. He needs to understand what’s going on and the measures we can take to protect his nest egg. He is of sound mind—right?”