In fact, after spending more hours mentally rehashing his argument with Ally Brooks than sleeping, he was madder still as he stood in the spray of a steamy shower. He had half a mind to post Lady, Go Home signs all through the house. His house. And Linc’s and Beth’s if they ever wanted to come back to live in it. But not some damn Denver woman’s house. About two in the morning he had conceded a couple of things. He believed she hadn’t been Shag’s lady friend, because his father just wasn’t the type to play footsy with a woman young enough to be his daughter. Which led to Jackson’s second concession—that he might have been out of line to accuse Ally Brooks—or anyone else—of sleeping their way into the old man’s will. Jackson of all people knew that Shag Heller had never in his life done a single thing he hadn’t wanted to do, regardless of what anyone else tried to maneuver or finagle, and no matter what the relationship. But it did sound like Shag to try to provide for the woman he’d been involved with for ten years, a woman he’d clearly had feelings for.
