She paced the front porch of the farmhouse as she tried to reason through her choices, wiping angrily at her eyes with every pass. Honestly, though, what choice did she have left?

Not a one. Not with Stetson the Stubborn pulling stupid stunts like this.

Hmmm…maybe she would change that to Stetson the Stubborn Shithead. It had a nice alliteration to it, even if it wasn’t a nickname she could use around Carmelita.

Finally, her shoulders drooped in defeat. What she’d told him was true – he really was backing her into a corner. She couldn’t sell his wheat for him; she couldn’t find a group of real estate investors in the next thirty minutes who were willing to back a ski resort; and she sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to dig up a wheelbarrow full of semi...

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