Morgan-Grace (REVAMPING)

CHAPTER 6

STRIP IT DOWN—LUKE BRYAN
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September 18th, 2015
High Valley Farm
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Morgan didn't get much sleep and had tossed and turned for much of the night. Her thoughts never stopped racing, knowingly tormenting her from the fall of dusk to the break of dawn.

With the early shafts of marigold throwing light on parts of her room, she knew that sleep would continue to be evasive and drug herself out of bed.

Plodding into the kitchen, she warmed up the brewer and covered a half yawn. She listened to its low thrum as it drowned out her father's wistful snoring in the other room.

Deciding to check-in on him while the coffee spurted into the carafe, she walked halfway into the living room before stopping in surprise.

Sprawled over her father's back were their two sheepdogs, both practically burying him underneath their shaggy fur. Huck lifted his head and gave her a blank stare before nestling his nose back under her father's armpit.

Shaking her head out of amusement, she went into the kitchen to grab her coffee and made her way back to her room. She quietly closed her door behind her and took a seat on her heirloom rocking chair, slurping from the chipped mug.

Morgan sat there for some time, thinking and contemplating her next step. She was never one to disobey her parents' wishes, but it seemed as though she had no other choice. They were backed between a rock and a hard place and there was only so much leeway.

She was set on her decision. She wasn't going to allow anyone to take their farm. Not now and not ever.

Putting her empty mug aside, she tugged her cell phone from off its charger and went to her recent call list. A couple of deep breaths later, she pressed the speaker against her ear and waited as it rang.

"Mr. Mackay? It's Morgan Blaire. I'm sorry for callin'  ya so early."

"That's alright, Ms. Blaire." Though her call was impromptu, his voice was clear and collected on the other end. "I'm assuming you didn't just call to apologize."

She repressed a breath and went for it. "No, I'm-uhm, I'm acceptin' yer offer."

With an unarticulated grunt, there was some distant shuffling. "That's great to hear. I will have Wren draw up your paperwork. It will need a few of your signatures, but we can complete that and discuss any other legal formalities during the flight down."

Morgan's face changed into a confused rumple as she grew quiet on the line, her eyes staring out blankly to her collage of vintage Johnny Cash posters.

She could hear his drawn-out sigh before he spoke again. "I mentioned the fine print, Ms. Blaire."

Wedging her cellphone between her ear and shoulder, she hurriedly went about searching her room for the folder. The only sound that seemed to permeate their silence was the rumbling of her drawers as she sifted through the junk.

She eventually located it and flipped through the pages two at a time before finding the contract. Raking her eyes over it, they zeroed-in on italics at the footnote of the page.

"Las Vegas, Nevada," she whispered, wide-eyed.

Morgan hadn't meant to voice her words aloud and she would have forgotten of Atlas had he not deliberately cleared his throat.

"Does your decision still stand?"

Feeling disquieted, she wasn't so sure of her answer anymore.

A couple of days ago, she would have declined Atlas' offer from the outset. But, with the discovery of their dire financial problem, they were now in desperate times.