Hot Winter Nights. Debbi Rawlins

long since I’ve visited.” Clint settled in the brown leather chair across from his brother.

      “Yeah, but in the middle of a weekday?”

      “You got me there.”

      Nathan’s cell rang, and Clint gestured for him to go ahead and answer. It dawned on him that he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say. Or even how to broach the subject without sounding as if he was complaining.

      Naturally the call was short—bought him all of five seconds.

      Clint took a slow sip of coffee, then cradled the warm mug in his hands. “I got the talk from Dad last night.”

      Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Did you tell him you already know storks have nothing to do with it?”

      “Hell, no. I’m not sure he and Mom have figured it out yet.”

      “They have three grown sons. I think they might’ve put two-and-two together by now.”

      “Stop.” Clint shook his head. “There are some things a man just can’t ponder. No matter how old he is.”

      “Amen to that. So, last night, was Seth there, too?”

      “He’s still in Billings.”

      “Partying with his old college buddies?” Nathan’s expression hardened when Clint shrugged. “When does Dad want you to take over?”

      “Soon. He’d like an answer by Christmas.”

      His brother’s brows shot up, but he quickly masked his surprise. It didn’t matter. Clint knew Nathan had expected him to run Whispering Pines eventually. Everyone did. The ranch had survived everything from droughts to poor financial management to be passed down through five generations of Landerses.

      Nathan was two years older and a hard act to follow. He’d begun building the Lucky 7 from practically nothing while he was still in college. And now, at thirty-five, he owned one of the most profitable ranches in the county.

      “Did Dad tell you to think about it? Or was that your suggestion?”

      “It was mutual. He told me to take some time off, to really think. I don’t see Seth wanting any part of it. Do you?”

      Nathan shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going on with that kid.”

      “He’s almost thirty.”

      “And acting like he’s ten.”

      Clint rubbed his jaw. Man, he needed a shave. “Think it’s time for his two big brothers to have a sit-down with him?”

      “Maybe after the holidays. We don’t want to stir things up and ruin Christmas for Mom.”

      “Good point.”

      “I’m more concerned about you right now.”

      “Me?”

      Nathan was studying him a little too closely. “You’re not jumping at the chance to take over—” He held up a hand. “And I’m not saying you should. After you quit college, I guess I just assumed you missed ranching.”

      “So did I, but...” Clint hesitated. Damn, he should’ve thought this thing through. Not five minutes ago he’d realized he wasn’t prepared. He could’ve talked about the weather, the Denver Broncos making it to the playoffs, the price of alfalfa... The last thing he wanted was to make Nathan feel guilty for breaking tradition. The oldest son had always taken the reins. But that didn’t mean anything.

      Yep, Clint should’ve waited. Although the talk with his dad had completely caught him off guard, and he’d been having trouble thinking straight, or about anything else—that was until he’d met Lila.

      “Did you ever think about doing anything other than ranching?”

      Nathan leaned back in his chair. “No, I haven’t. But clearly you have.”

      “No. Well, nothing specific. It’s just getting pretty real is all. It’s a damn serious commitment.”

      “Hell, you’ve been in charge since before Dad made you foreman,” Nathan said. “The men go to you when they need something, and we both know Dad likes it that way. Making it official won’t change much. Unless there’s something else you’re not saying?”

      “That’s just it. I don’t feel as though I’d be losing out on anything, but I don’t want to just slide in because it’s what’s expected of me either. On the other hand, if I don’t step up and Dad were to get sick again, or if Seth doesn’t come around and start pulling his weight, I’d feel like shit.”

      “I understand,” Nathan said. “So would I, but it didn’t stop me from building the ranch I wanted.”

      Clint just nodded, but that was the difference between him and Nathan. His brother had always known what he wanted, and Clint wasn’t sure. He still loved ranching, and it would kill him if anyone but a Landers owned the land. Wasn’t that enough reason for him to step up? He’d never been commitment-phobic, so why was the thought of sealing his future making him twitchy?

      “Sorry to interrupt.” Beth poked her head in. “I’m going to run into town for some ribbon. Do you need anything?”

      “Blackfoot Falls or Twin Creeks?” Nathan asked with an amused gleam in his eye. Twin Creeks was closer to the Lucky 7 but half the size of Blackfoot Falls.

      “Oh, please... Blackfoot Falls, of course. Who knows?” She batted her lashes. “I might get discovered.”

      Clint shot a look at his brother. The night Anne had died in the accident, she’d sneaked off to audition for a play.

      Nathan didn’t seem bothered, he just laughed. “Well, you call me before you sign any contracts.”

      “Deal,” she said, padding in to give him a quick kiss. “Text me if you think of anything you want.” On her way out, she squeezed Clint’s shoulder. “We’re having chicken and tortilla casserole for supper if you want to stay.”

      “Thanks. Another time.” The second she was out of earshot Clint grinned at his brother. “She’s got you eating casseroles?”

      Grunting, Nathan leaned back. “Wait till you get married. You’re gonna find yourself doing a lot of crap you swore you wouldn’t do. Hey, you still seeing Kristy?”

      “Not for months. It wasn’t going anywhere.” He shrugged. “I think she might have itchy feet. Wouldn’t surprise me if she moved away from Twin Creeks.”

      “Is that what’s got you hesitating to take over from Dad?”

      “Nah.” Clint shook his head for emphasis. “Anyway, it’s nothing. Just thinking things through.”

      “You guys having any financial problems I should know about?”

      “Nope.” It was a fair question. Years ago their father had made some poor decisions that had nearly bankrupted them. “We’re in the black.”

      “Thanks to you,” Nathan said, his worried pucker beginning to ease. “But I heard you leased horses to the Hollywood people, so it made me wonder.”

      “Didn’t do it for the money. Ben Wolf asked me for a favor. They wanted a couple of showy chestnuts. We have geldings with cream-colored manes and tails that fit the bill.” Clint had unloaded the horses without talking to the head wrangler. For some reason, he’d trusted Erin Murphy’s word the runaway stallion was an isolated incident. But he had every intention of driving back later to make sure they weren’t being careless with the animals. “You ever heard of Lila Loveridge?”

      Nathan frowned. “Nope. She live around here?”

      Clint wished. “She’s an actress. Blonde. About five-eight. I just met her. You and Beth watch more movies than I do, so I figured you might’ve seen her in something.”