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aren’t you? That’s why you’re hiring contractors and buying lumber. So you can nick some Hollywood type for a few million?”
    Ah, the grapevine,
Logan thought. Dylan knew he was fixing up the ranch house, because he still had sources in town. Asking where he was had been a formality.
    “I’m not selling,” he said evenly. “I’m here to stay. And if you’re thinking of liquidating your share of the place, I’ll match anybody else’s offer.” That train of thought led to Briana Grant, since she was living in Dylan’s house, and following it got Logan into trouble. He was a beat late realizing he’d said the wrong thing.
    “If I was going to sell my ten thousand acres—and I’m not—I sure as hell wouldn’t let you buy me out.”
    Here we go,
Logan thought. “Why’s that?”
    “You
know
why. Because of the things you said about Dad.”
    “I was wrong, okay? I should have been more respectful—kept my opinions to myself. I’m sorry, Dylan.”
    More silence. Dylan would have been prepared for a counterattack, but the left-field apology probably threw him a little.
    “Dylan? Are you still there?”
    Dylan sighed audibly. “I’m here.”
    “And ‘here’ is where?”
    “L.A.,” Dylan said. “I had a meeting with my agent and a few studio people—I’m doing some stunt work for a movie. They’re filming up in Alberta, starting next week.”
    “You like that kind of work?” Logan asked. He couldn’t imagine why anybody would, but then it couldn’t be any more dangerous than rodeo, and they’d both taken a turn at that.
    “It’s a living,” Dylan answered. “Pays my child support.”
    Logan took the plunge, though he knew the water would be cold. “I’m thinking of running some cattle on the ranch. Buying some horses, too. Maybe you’d like to be a partner?”
    “We wouldn’t get along for ten minutes,” Dylan said, but there was something wistful in the way he said the words.
    Logan laughed. “We never did,” he replied. “But we had a lot of fun in between brawls.”
    More silence.
    Then Dylan laughed, too. “Yeah,” he said.
    It was the first thing they’d agreed on in a decade.
    “You going to call Ty?” Dylan asked.
    “At some point.”
    “Well, tread lightly when you do. And don’t give my name as a reference—he’s seriously pissed at me right now.”
    “Why?” Logan asked, though he could imagine a thousand reasons—not the least of which was Tyler’s tendency to be a hothead.
    But Dylan shut him down. “Too personal,” he said coolly.
This is between Ty and me. You’re on the outside,
    looking in.
“Look, Logan, it was good to hear from you, but I’ve gotta go. Big date.”
    “Right,” Logan replied. He and Dylan had been civil to each other. When he saw Cassie the next morning, he could honestly say he’d tried. “Good luck with the movie.”
    Dylan said thanks and hung up.
    Logan looked down at Sidekick, who was gazing soulfully into his eyes.
    “One down, one to go,” he told the dog.
    Sidekick whimpered.
    Logan consulted Cassie’s note again, then dialed the number scrawled next to Tyler’s name.
    One ring.
    Two.
    Three.
    Then, the recording. “This is Tyler Creed. I’m busy right now, but I’ll call you back unless you’re selling something. In that case, you’re SOL. Wait for the beep, and spill it.”
    Logan chuckled, waited for the beep.
    “This is Logan,” he said. He recited both his cell number and the new one for the ranch phone. “Call me. I’m not selling anything.”
    Like hell he wasn’t.

CHAPTER THREE
    S OLEMNLY, Alec presented Briana with a tattered piece of notebook paper. The pencil marks forming Vance’s number were pressed in hard, as though Alec had been afraid they would fade if he didn’t copy them down with all his might.
    The sorrow Briana felt in that moment weighed down her heart. Even Alec, Vance’s most loyal supporter, knew that the precious digits in that phone number were elusive. Like his