that did not include selling out to the determined lady developer with those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes. All he’d gained for his efforts was an incessant pounding in his temples.
At last, silence descended over the room, but before he could breathe a sigh of relief, the blasted telephone started up again. He smacked the glass tabletop and shoved his chair back, ignoring the protesting screech against the tile floor. Time to rid himself of this persistent caller.
He grabbed the receiver but before he could utter a word, he head, “Cord, it’s Peter Forbes. I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
“Actually, I was just sitting down—”
“This won’t take long,” the man rambled on. “I thought I might hear from you today.”
“Why? Is there another offer on the land?” His hand clenched the phone. He willed his real estate agent to say yes.
“No.”
Cord’s pent-up breath blew out in a sigh. “Then why would we talk?”
“The woman, Alexis Greer, she stopped by the office today. She wanted some more information about the land—”
“Did you make it clear to her that it’s just the two hundred acres that are for sale?”
“Actually, she was telling me about her plans for Haggerty. In fact, she showed me the plans—you know, for the resort. They’re quite impressive.”
Was Lexi starting some sort of crusade to turn the town against him? His ex-wife had tried swaying him with public pressure—twisting his arm to sell the ranch. She’d painted such an awful picture of him that it’d been hard to brush off the whispers and stares when he ventured into town for supplies. He wouldn’t stand for Lexi making matters worse for him.
After a moment of silence, Mr. Forbes cleared his throat and hurried on. “Have you taken time to consider her proposal? She has some good ideas that would bring some much needed tourist dollars to town. If it all worked out, it’d solve everyone’s problems.”
Everyone’s problems but his. Cord’s jaw tensed, holding back a burning retort.
“Think about it.” Mr. Forbes cleared his throat. “This resort would give people job opportunities, and the economy would grow. And best of all, your ranch would be free of debt.”
How was Cord supposed to argue with logic like that? No matter what he said, he’d sound like the bad guy. No one understood his desperate need to cling to the land where he was a confident rancher—where he didn’t have to work to hide his dyslexia on a regular basis. On the Brazen H, he could just be himself.
Cord paced back and forth across the tiled floor. “She’ll have to build the resort somewhere else. I can’t sell her Haggerty.”
“Before you turn her down, you might want to hear what she’s proposing. The town really needs the jobs. It would keep the young people from leaving town in search of work. People would be excited—”
“Public pressure won’t sway me.”
Why was Mr. Forbes trying to make him responsible for the town’s welfare? It wasn’t like he was the town’s mayor. He wouldn’t stand a chance of even being elected dogcatcher. Not that he let it bother him. He got by just fine keeping to himself.
Then a legitimate thought occurred to him. “Did you ever stop to consider the resort’s employees might not be locals? They could hire anyone, people from as far away as…New York.”
“Guess you have a point.” A defeated tone filled the man’s voice. “Perhaps you should find out more about this resort before you sell to her. You’ll talk to her, right? For the town’s sake?”
A protest hung in the back of Cord’s throat, but instead he said, “I’ll listen to what she has to say, but that’s all I’m promising.”
“You know by bringing jobs to Whistle Stop, it might undo some of the hard feelings people have been harboring for so long.”
“Their attitudes are their problem. Not mine.” Cord ended the call.
He refused to be held responsible for solving Whistle Stop’s struggling
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