Delaney remembered the heads he’d turned and wondered how she would’ve felt if he’d shown any interest in those women. It would’ve bothered her to see him on the dance floor with someone else, to think he wanted to take someone home with him. Billy Joe and Bobby weren’t any threat to Conner or anyone else, so she had difficulty seeing them in the same light. But Conner didn’t know them or her habits. Maybe the way he’d behaved tonight hadn’t been so strange, after all.
Rolling over, she eyed the phone, wanting to call him. But it was nearly one o’clock. Conner was probably asleep; he’d left the Honky Tonk before midnight.
When she went back to work on Monday, she’d tell him she understood how he felt and see if they could work out something they could both live with until the baby was born. The front door opened and closed, and Rebecca made her way noisily through the living room and down the hall.
“Buddy called,” Delaney said, when Rebecca passed her door.
“What’d he say?”
“He wants you to call him tomorrow.”
“Okay. Want to go out for breakfast in the morning?”
“Sure,” Delaney said. “Just don’t wake me up too early.”
“No chance of that. But aren’t you going to get up and bake pies this weekend like usual?”
“I’m not going to bake any pies for the next few months. I’m sick of baking pies.”
“Jeez, Laney. You get yourself pregnant and give up baking.” Rebecca yawned. “The world must be coming to an end.”
“The world as I know it already has.”
“SO WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Conner asked, eyeing Roy closely.
Roy bent toward the magazine Conner had spread out on the desk. “You dragged my butt out of bed to show me an article in a magazine from—” he flipped to the front cover “—two years ago?”
“Yeah.”
“This couldn’t wait? It’s six o’clock in the morning.”
Ever since Conner had learned that Josh Hill and his brother had money to invest, something had been niggling at the back of his mind. Once he’d gotten home and been able to think beyond Delaney, it had come to him. He’d been up half the night searching through every magazine he’d ever read and had just found what he was looking for. “Don’t you know what this is?”
“It’s a golf course,” Roy said, as though he wasn’t particularly impressed.
“It’s more than a golf course. It’s our answer.”
Roy picked up the magazine and read the caption. “‘Visitors travel from as far away as Europe and China to play eighteen holes on this unique and difficult course.’”
“See? Golf is huge,” Conner said. “People pay green fees of over $200 per game to play on this course.”
“That might be true. But golf courses take a lot of money to build and maintain. You’re not thinking of putting one out here on the ranch, are you?”
“Not just a golf course,” Conner said. “Look at this.” He pulled out another magazine and slapped it on top of the first. On one side was a picture of a large, rustic-looking lodge. On the other was an article with the headline “Last Bastion of the West?”
“I don’t get the connection,” Roy said.
“I’m thinking of turning a section of the ranch into a resort. We could have hunting and fishing, horseback riding, songs around the campfire, you name it. We could get into one of these vacation magazines and draw people from all over the world with the promise of a truly western experience. And we could hedge our bets by having one of the best golf courses in America.”
“Are you still drunk from last night?” Roy asked.
“I was never drunk last night. Listen to me. All it takes is money.”
“That’s what we don’t have, Conner. Your grandfather’s not going to spend any more money on the ranch. He’s selling, remember? He’d never go for something like this.”
Conner tapped the magazine. “I don’t think my grandfather will like the idea, either, which is why I’ve never really considered it until now. But didn’t you hear what Josh Hill said last night?”
“Yeah, he’s looking for some long-term investments. But this is…” Roy shook his head as he gazed down at the two magazines, then at the others strewn across the floor and around the desk. “This is crazy. For Josh, this wouldn’t be as simple as buying a piece of land, Con. This would be spending millions of dollars to change the use of the land.”
“Not completely. That’s the beauty of it. It would still be a ranch.”
“Josh is just a homegrown horse-breeder. He’s done well, but I doubt he has as much as this will require. On top of everything else, he already has a business to run. Why would he want to branch out into an area he doesn’t know anything about?”
“Because it’s smart not to have all your eggs in one basket,” Conner said. “And we’d be giving him the chance to be part of the biggest thing ever to hit Dundee. We’d run it. He’d just lend us the money.”
“But your grandfather’s already listed the ranch, which means he has to follow through with selling it if a buyer comes along. Someone could buy it right out from under us.”
“Only if that buyer meets all the terms and criteria of the listing agreement. If the Realtor procures an offer that’s even a penny short, we can reject it.”
“We? We don’t have anything to say about it. And you know how gung ho your uncles are to get rid of the place. I tried telling them about the campsites we’ve cleared, but they didn’t want to hear it.”
“So you’re giving up?” Conner said, mimicking him.
Roy rubbed his whiskery chin. “You’re serious about this?”
“I think so,” Conner said. “It would mean I need to figure out a way to buy the ranch myself as soon as possible, which is definitely risky. But it’s going to take something big to save the Running Y.”
The telephone rang, and Roy answered it because Conner was too excited to bother. What if he could do it? What if he could pull it off? He’d be able to keep the ranch in the family and start something of his own at the same time. He’d be able to provide for his child, put down some roots, belong. Best of all, he’d be a father his child could be proud of. And a resort would be good for the community, too. It would bring in thousands of tourists who’d spend their money right here in Dundee without destroying the country setting he’d come to love….