“Why wouldn’t I?”

Figuring he’d better word this carefully, he shrugged. “Sorting through a loved one’s possessions can be difficult.” You never knew what you might find… “The fact that it’s Christmastime is only going to make it harder.”

Ally curled her hands around the edge of the desk. “I don’t plan to celebrate the holiday. I thought I’d made that clear.”

Hank wondered how long it had been since someone had engulfed her in a nice, warm hug. Or made love to her slowly and thoroughly. Or shown her any affection at all, never mind made a segue way into her heart. “In other words,” he guessed, mocking her droll tone, “your way of dealing with something painful is not to deal with it at all.”

Her green eyes flashed with temper. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.” She paused to give him a withering once-over. “Not that any of this is your business.”

Hank knew that was true. Nonetheless, it was hard to stand by and watch her make a huge mistake that she was bound to regret, maybe sooner than she thought.

Having learned the hard way that some events couldn’t be undone, no matter how much you wished they could, later on, he pointed out, “Mesquite Ridge Ranch has been your home since birth.”

A flicker of remembrance briefly softened the beautiful lines of her face, before disappearing once again. “I haven’t lived on the ranch for eleven years. My life is in Houston now.” She swallowed visibly. “Not that what I do with the property is any of your concern, either.”

Hank stepped closer. It was time to put his own intention on the line. “Actually,” he murmured, “it is very much my business, since I made it clear when I took over the ranch last summer that I wanted to purchase the land from you, if and when you were inclined to sell.” He hadn’t been sure at the time that would ever be the case.

Ally gestured apathetically, all-business once again. “If you come in with the best offer, it’s yours.”