Ralston's Way

Copyright © Talia Carmichael, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Excerpt From: Ralston's Way

“I hired an office manager.”

Morgan Ralston stopped and turned. He ignored the squelch of the mud that caked his clothing and boots.

“What did you say?” He eyed Gibson.

“I hired an office manager to take over the office operations, big brother.” Gibson Ralston smiled, unperturbed by Morgan’s disbelieving look.

“What are you going to be doing, then?” Morgan asked mildly.

“Many things.” Gibson’s grin widened.

“Get to the point.” Morgan took a step forward.

The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor made him look down. He winced at the mud tracks he had made from the door.

“Let me clean up first. Then“—he narrowed his eyes —“you will explain.”

He turned and continued up the stairs.

“Abby’s going to tan your hide for messing up her floor.”

“Clean it before she sees it,” Morgan said, without looking back.

“What the hell is this? My floors!” a voice roared.

“Too late.” Gibson sounded amused.

Morgan glanced back at him, scowling. Gibson chuckled. Morgan glanced past him at the woman standing with her hands on her hips.

“I’ll clean it up when I get back, Abby.” Morgan knew better than to displease his housekeeper.

“You’d better,” she warned.

“I’ll make sure he does,” Gibson promised.

“Always trying to get your brother in trouble.” Abby smacked him with her towel, then walked away muttering about messy floors.

“Go on. I’ll clean up. Meet me in my office so we can talk.” Gibson grinned.

Morgan nodded and went up the stairs. Gibson being so amused, not to mention so helpful, did not bode well for their upcoming conversation. He was pretty sure what Gibson had to tell him would be something he would not like. His mood was grim as he stripped, showered and changed. Afterwards he returned downstairs to his office and grabbed some papers from his safe. He opened the door that connected his brother’s office to his, strode to the couch and took a seat. His brother glanced up at him from where he sat behind the desk. Gibson stood, picking up some papers, and came over, sitting in the armchair closest to the couch.

“Explain.” Morgan was succinct.

“Do you remember Thomas Ward?”