Something Borrowed

Chapter 48

The silence marched on, marked by the distant tick of the grandfather clock in the entryway. Amelia was opening her mouth to break it when, to her shock, Mr. Tucker cleared his throat, gaze dropping to his plate.

"Brent's business partners should be coming back sometime next week," he said gruffly, picking up his discarded fork and tapping it against his plate.

"Figured they would," Josh answered. "Brent was telling me about the deal. Sounds like they're in a rush to close it."

"Mmm," his father hummed thoughtfully. "He seems to think it's in the best interest of the ranch."

Amelia watched her husband's jaw tick and slipped a hand under the table, squeezing his leg. Whether she was urging him to argue or lending him the strength to stay silent, she didn't know. Not anymore, with how everything had fallen apart. She was no longer sure fighting back was the right choice, and it wouldn't matter to them, anyway. They'd be leaving once the snow melted, their livelihood no longer dependent on the whims of this half-crazed old man.

"Well?" Mr. Tucker said, after the silence stretched on for several interminable moments.

"Well what?" Josh asked.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Me?" he asked incredulously. Amelia kicked him under the table and he nodded sharply. "Yeah, I uh... I think it's a fine idea for another ranch, sir, and a good model for a business. I don't think it's right for your ranch, though."

"Why not?"

Josh shrugged, his voice easing into the familiar cadence it took up when he was talking about the ranch. He was so comfortable in his role as its head, it pained her to think of leaving. He ought to be taking the place over, not leaving it without any thanks or compensation for all he'd done to build it.

"The whole idea is predicated on instability. It's great for pioneers and frontiersmen looking to get a spread off the ground with limited manpower and revenue. Their assets aren't liquid, they're new to the challenges, and they're vulnerable to bad seasons. It's good for them to have a safety net, but it's not much good for someone like you. This ranch is self sustaining. We... you don't need help driving the herd to market, and you don't need loans to afford feed and other necessities, or even to sustain you through droughts or hard winters. If you buy into this business, you'll be sacrificing control and a portion of your profits for services you don't require and financial security that you're already providing for yourself."

Josh petered off at the end, his voice losing some of his strength as if he'd just realized how long he'd been talking. He reached for his wine but didn't raise it for a sip, his fingers wrapped so hard around the stem Amelia was afraid he might snap it. Now that would cause an eruption. The crystal had been his mother's, after all.

Mr. Tucker stared at his son, his face impassive but for a subtle clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Amelia braced herself for an outburst. If he lost his temper, they'd leave. She wouldn't even give her husband a choice. She'd make it about her and Rebecca, say she didn't feel safe, and he wouldn't dare say no. They'd go back to their quiet, cozy house and have a quiet, cozy holiday. Enough was enough.

"I agree."

At the sound of the old man's voice, Amelia's choler was already rising. It took her a second to realize what he'd actually said. She looked across the table and saw Melissa staring, wide-eyed, at her father. Josh had gone deathly still beside her.

"What?" he said dumbly, his hand still wrapped around the stem of his wine glass.

"I agree," his father said again, sounding more sure than he had before. He cleared his throat, looking down at his plate. "I wasn't certain, at first, and Brent seems... well, I think it's important to him that this deal go through. I'm worried he's already made promises to his partners."