Homecoming Ranch by Julia London

cracker box.”
    “Because a fellow named Jackson Crane came to see me. Said the estate had passed on to Grant’s kids, and they were coming in for a powwow, and he suspected they’d want to sell. He said given the circumstances it was probably best we get out of the way while everyone decides what needs to be done. He knew about this house and I rented it for dirt cheap.”
    Luke could believe that. “What about Ernest?” he asked, referring to their long-time cowboy. For all of Luke’s life that he could recall, Ernest had lived in the bunkhouse and taken care of things when Dad couldn’t.
    “Oh, Ernest just went down to Albuquerque to see his mom. He’ll be back. Jackson Crane is keeping him on.”
    At least there was some good news. Ernest had been with them so long that Luke suspected he had no place to go. But the rest was more than Luke could absorb in one sitting. He stood up and walked to the sink, staring out at the patch of back yard. “So who the hell is this Jackson Crane guy, anyway?”
    “He was Grant’s guy. A business manager.”
    “He had a business manager, and none of this was written down? Grant essentially loans you money and you put up the title, and nothing about the loan agreement is recorded?” Luke turned to his dad, but Dad’s head was down as he pushed thick fingers through his thinning hair.
    Luke’s shoulders sagged. His father was a good man, a great dad, a steady provider. But what he knew was ranching. Not real estate. And Mom had always been the one who kept their finances in check. “Okay, look, Dad, I am going to talk to this Crane guy,” Luke said. “I’ll talk to the heirs, too. I think we can all be reasonable about this. We’ll work something out.”
    “Maybe,” his father said with a shrug.
    “Have faith—”
    “Luke, look,” his father said sharply, and suddenly came to his feet. He was an inch shorter than Luke, but just as broad. “I don’t like that I had to borrow money against the ranch. I don’t like that Grant died and left me in a bind. But the fact is, I got the money I needed for Leo,” he said, pointing to the front room, where they could both hear Leo shouting at his game characters. “That’s what matters. Leo’s problem ain’t going away, either. He’s not getting better, he’s getting worse, and the ranch… the ranch takes a lot of work.”
    Luke glanced at the doorway and hoped to hell Leo wasn’t hearing this. “I get it,” he said low. “Hell if I know how you do it all, Dad. But Leo isn’t always going to be here. Homecoming Ranch is his home—not
this
place. More than that, it’s
your
home—you’ve lived there all your life! So did your parents, and their parents. Ranching is what you
do
. What are you going to do when you don’t have Leo anymore?”
    Luke’s father clenched his jaw. He put his hand on Luke’s shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s time you faced the fact that things have changed for us. And what’s done is done. Now, I’ve got to give Leo his medicine.” He turned away, stepped to the counter next to the fridge where three rows of dark brown pill bottles were lined up. A chart was taped to the front of the fridge, which his father consulted.
    What about me?
Luke thought. What about
his
life at the ranch, his memories, his hopes for it? He felt the hard kernel of resentment sprouting in him—resentment at how life had turned out for his family, all of it. “It’s not done,” he said tightly, but his father ignored him.

SIX
    In a village where flannel ruled and elkhorns seemed to be mandatory décor, Jackson Crane looked as fresh and as Hollywood as he had the first time Madeline had met him. She’d found his office easy enough in this postage stamp of civilization that was Pine River. It was a low gray building that looked like a bomb shelter.
    Jackson—who did not have a receptionist, Madeline noted—showed her into his office. He had a gunmetal gray desk, a squeaky office chair. On the