Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(48)

Mack guessed the trip was about three miles by the time the valley came into view, the remains of the town rising up in the distance under the beauty of the mountains behind it. The back forty was a strange piece of land for someone to want to buy, all rocky terrain and wild vegetation.

He stuck a question into the back of his mind to ask Judson once they stopped.

They all parked together near the biggest structure, the weathered old building that hadn’t supported Wes’s weight. He glanced at the hole in the porch floorboards, remembering how smooth Wes’s ankle had been in his hands.

Colt let out a low whistle as he surveyed the town. “This is amazing.”

“Certainly is an unexpected sight,” Arthur replied. “My word.”

Now that Mack wasn’t worrying about the safety of a guest, he took a minute to really look at the place. To try and imagine it a hundred-plus years ago, with horses on the hitching post, and people wandering the dusty street. He walked to a listing shack a few yards from the big building and shined a flashlight inside. Big iron anvil, rusty old tools on the walls. A pile of horseshoes.

“Looks like a blacksmith shop,” Mack said to no one in particular. Back then, every town had one.

Judson wandered over with the video camera and pointed it into the little shack. “This is amazing. Like they just up and left one day, no mind to take their stuff.”

“Makes you wonder what happened for people to have abandoned it.”

“It really does.”

That tucked-away thought sprang forward. “The buyer who keeps offering on the back forty,” Mack said. “Did that offer include this piece of the property?”

Judson frowned. “If I’m remembering the acreage correctly, the property line is about a quarter-mile farther north. Close, but not part of the package. Why?”

“Curious is all.”

All in all, after spending more than two hours exploring, they discovered seven buildings still standing, and the foundations of at least eight more that nature had long since torn down. Even found what had once been the town’s well, a deep hole in the ground surrounded by crumbling stones.

Colt determined that most of the buildings could potentially be restored and reinforced for safety, but he had no idea what something like that would cost. “You need to get some folks out here, draw up plans, make some bids on the work. Maybe even hire a historian to help make sure this ends up as accurate as possible, if you wanna go the tourist attraction route.”

“Not sure yet,” Arthur said, absently stroking his chin. “It’s got potential for sure, but the money’s the problem.”

“What if I told you I knew of an investor who’s willing to put into this plan?” Mack asked. “That they see the potential here to bring more money to not only the ranch, but also to the town of Garrett itself.”

Arthur gaped at him. “How did you find an investor in less than twenty-four hours?”

Uncertain how this truth bomb was going to land, Mack went all in and said, “Because it’s me. I have the money.”

“Dude, this isn’t a ten grand project,” Colt said. “This is up in the six figures, minimum.”

“I have the money,” Mack repeated. He held Colt’s gaze. “The lawsuit settled last year. I put the money in the bank and haven’t touched it.”

Colt’s eyebrows shot up. “Fuck, Mack, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone.” He chanced a look at Arthur, who was staring at him with open confusion. “After Geoff died, I sued the city and the department for wrongful death. I knew no amount of money would bring him back, but I wanted to make a goddamn point. I refused to settle out of court, but I did keep it out of the papers.

“Granddad, I want to do this. I really believe this project could rejuvenate the town. I don’t want to see Garrett die off and become another ghost town. The money is just sitting in a bank account, and I’d rather use it for something good than let it keep drawing interest. And I think Geoff would agree.”

Arthur’s eyes got shiny and wet, and he let out a loud cough. “Sounds like you’ve got your heart set on this.”

“I kind of do.” Mack grinned. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got yourself a ghost town.”

Colt whooped.

“I’ll call Barney,” Arthur said. Barney Coffey, the only lawyer left within twenty miles. “We’ll set up the paperwork the right way from the start.”

“Sounds great,” Mack replied. “I’ll do my best to work this project around my duties at the ranch.”

“Don’t worry too much about that right now. Once you get this project rolling, something tells me you won’t have much time for the ranch, and that’s just fine. Quentin and the boys can handle it.”

They’d figure out those details later. Mack didn’t want to give up working on the ranch, but Arthur made a good point. And if Mack wanted this done to his satisfaction, he’d need to give it his full attention.

His life had just taken a big turn toward something new—all thanks to a sassy city slicker named Wes Bentley.

*

“Incoming!”

Wes looked up in time to see Miller take a flying leap off the rope and hit the lake with a big splash. Wes threw a hand up to protect his eyes from the spraying water and used the other to keep himself afloat in the roiling lake.