Betting on Hope - By Kay Keppler Page 0,2

my father lose the ranch?” Hope asked. “My parents bought it outright twenty-two years ago. There wasn’t a mortgage. Just tell me what happened, Mr. Sharp. That’s what we’d like to know. Because you’ve told us to get out in a month, and after twenty-two years, that’s just a little sudden.”

Joseph Sharp cleared his throat. “Mr. McNaughton lost the property in a card game.”

Hope closed her eyes. Of course that’s how Derek lost it. She should have guessed. Her father wasn’t the worst card player in the world, but he never knew when to quit. When his chips were gone, he’d bet anything—the car, the house, his kids’ college educations. He just kept playing, expecting his luck to turn.

And now he’d made his family’s luck turn, as well.

“The title was transferred in my office two days ago,” Joseph Sharp said now.

“Who is the winning party?”

“I don’t know with whom Mr. McNaughton played. The owner on the transfer agreement is a Delaware corporation, Passaic Holdings.”

“Can we make an offer on the place?”

Joseph Sharp sighed. “I don’t think the ranch is in your price range.”

“My parents paid a hundred thousand for it twenty-two years ago,” Hope said. “How much does the winner want for it? It must be worth more now.”

“A lot more.” The lawyer’s voice was ripe with satisfaction. “At least two million.”

Two million? Hope glanced around the funky, old-fashioned kitchen, the battered kitchen cabinets and worn linoleum. For this, well, okay, not dump, exactly—the barn was a luxury hotel with room for eighteen horses—but they’d let the house go to pay for the barn, and the land itself was one hundred fifty acres of shrub.

“Two million,” Hope said. They could never afford that. They just barely met their expenses on the ranch as it was.

“Passaic Holdings has a potential buyer, which expressed interest in expanding into that area of Nevada.”

“A buyer?” Two million and the winner has a buyer already.

“I believe a global corporation that specializes in destination entertainment,” Joseph Sharp said.

Destination entertainment? The buyer wants to build a Disneyland in the middle of the Nevada high plain?

“Of course, you are welcome to make a counter offer. Mr. McNaughton insisted that you have first right of refusal.”

Hope felt sick. The bad news was moving much too fast, running her over. “Well, thank you, Mr. Sharp. I’ll just have my lawyer draw up those purchase papers.”

“Let me know if I can help. I also know an excellent moving service.”

They talked about it over supper. Faith had come in from the greenhouse and made the meal—a big carrot salad, the carrots shaved to cut out all the dark spots and bug nibbles—and a comforting chicken casserole. Amber, Faith’s daughter, who would turn eleven in a few days, sat silently, her food untouched on her plate, watching them.

“I don’t understand this, Mom,” Faith said now. “I thought you owned the ranch.”

“Well, no.” Suzanne still looked pale. Amber had a glass of milk in front of her, but the rest of them were drinking beer. Suzanne took a long swallow of hers.

A little extra grain for the humans, too, Hope thought.

“When we divorced, Derek got the ranch and I got what cash there was. I needed the money to support you girls until I could get on my feet. At the time, the value was about the same. Your father said we could stay here for as long as we wanted, or he’d give us a chance to buy him out. He’s been more than generous. The rent has been very reasonable over the years.”

Dad welshed on the deal, like always, Hope thought.

“He wasn’t more than generous,” she said flatly. “We paid rent. We paid utilities. We paid upkeep and repairs. We’ve done a ton of improvements. The greenhouse. The barn.” She knew all about the expenses they’d paid. She’d written the checks herself.

“Well, we live here, Hope, sweetie. We should be paying for those things.”

Hope was silent. She didn’t want to argue with her mother. It wasn’t Suzanne’s fault that Derek, king of the losing hand, hadn’t kept his end of the deal.

“But why is he forcing us off now?” Faith asked.

Simple, Hope thought. Derek had gambled and lost, and now the land, the house, the horses, the greenhouse—everything would have to be sold, their home would be sold.

The McNaughtons were welcome to buy it all back, of course.

For two million dollars.

The McNaughtons, who couldn’t afford to put a new roof on their old house, were offered first refusal on a two-million property—their