I’d pored over his deal with Marshall. The original owner of the land wouldn’t sell to Macon, probably because he’d burned a bridge with the man. But he’d sold to Marshall. Macon was going to buy it from him. I was now expected to buy it from Marshall, which was why Jed had come around in the first place.

Marshall was out millions on a piece of land he probably didn’t even want. He’d turn a nice profit based on what Macon had agreed to pay him to be the middleman. Marshall never expected Macon to up and die. Since the deal wasn’t with Macon personally but with Wainright Holdings, someone had to sign on the dotted line. And hand over the cash.

Jed had said he’d gone to the wake for Marshall, then stayed for me. His appearance at my office this morning had been part of his job. Was that why he’d shown up here tonight? To give me orgasms in trade for finishing what Macon had promised?

Was I only a transaction to Jed? There was one way to find out. I climbed from the bed, pulled my laptop from my leather satchel and sat down at my desk. It faced west and the view was impressive. The sun was setting, and I watched as it slowly slipped behind the craggy peaks. I pulled up the legal paperwork for Marshall’s deal on my laptop, signed it at the indicated places, hit the submit button.

It was done.

The contract for the land was signed. I grabbed my cell from the slim pocket in my leggings, called Julian. He answered on the first ring, as usual, no matter the time of day.

“The land contract with Marshall is signed,” I told him. “Ensure the wire for the funds goes through during banking hours tomorrow.”

“On it,” he replied, then hung up.

I watched as the color of the sky changed from orange to pink. I loved it here. The land. The house. Everything that my family had built for generations. It didn’t make any sense since Macon had tainted it all.

My brothers. Me.

Especially me.

I felt a nudge at my calf and I looked down. Eddie. I petted him and his tail bumped against the leg of my desk as it went back and forth. I hadn’t closed the door all the way and he’d nudged it open to settle into the dog bed in the corner where he slept at night.

He followed me everywhere around the house. Sometimes I took him to the office when I drove, but most of the time since I took the helicopter, he remained here and slept. Since he wasn’t a puppy any longer, that was what he did all day. Plus snore and fart.

Macon had complained about how horrible a guard dog he was.