The Texas Rebel [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  “Do you know what happened to Steven Webber? He was in the Jeep with me,” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but I will get the doctor. Maybe he knows,” he replied and was almost out the door when his attention seemed to be diverted by the television. “You mind a sec. I kind of want to hear this,” he asked, turning the volume up.

  She turned to look and listened as the reporter talked.“The Texas Rebels have done it again. In the last five minutes of the game, coming back from a fourteen-point deficit, Armstrong miraculously led his team to another amazing win. After talking with coach, Jimmie Salts plans to have the team prepped and ready for the upcoming game against the Wolverines next week in Washington. With all eyes on quarterback Mark Armstrong, everyone is wondering if he can do it again.

  Also, this reporter has just learned that for the first time in football history, the national championship game is going to be played abroad. The Commissioner just handed down his decision, and with the vast amount of fans already buying up tickets, heading to England, I can assure you that this reporter will soon be following for the game of the century. So for now, the Rebels are looking for their third win against the Wolverines next week in Washington. All eyes are going to be on the maverick quarterback. This is Crystal Blaywell reporting back to you, Ken.”

  “Well, I guess that settles that. I hope the Wolverines kick the Rebels’ butts,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear. Sarah turned to look at him, and he smiled and quickly apologized for his language.

  “Soccer fan?”

  “Football.”

  “Ah, sorry,” she said, turning her attention to the sun that was appearing outside her window.

  The sky had cleared up, and it wasn’t very often, but the sun was shining brightly. It looked to be a beautiful day. Sighing, she began to think of him. God, how she missed him. She started to think of everything. She didn’t know what she was going to do. There was the house, the cars, his part in the business, and her job. There was just so much that still needed to be taken care of. She thanked God that Steven would be around to help her. She knew she would be completely lost if he wasn’t.

  Lost in thought, she didn’t hear when he entered her room. It was the clearing of his throat that brought her back to the present. She turned to find a tall, thin man with gray hair looking at her. She smiled.

  “Hello,” she offered kindly.

  “Ms. Mitchell, how are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “I am Doctor Rothstein. I attended to you when you were brought into the emergency room. You survived pretty well. You have a concussion and several bruises, but other than that you fared better than most. The paramedics told me it was a horrible accident. The Jeep rolled several times. You did a good job by wearing your seat belt. I plan on keeping you in here for a couple more days for observation, but other than that, you’re fine. Do you have any questions?” he asked formally without emotion.

  “Can you tell me what room Steven Webber is in? We were in the Jeep together,” she asked.

  “I don’t have any information on the driver, Ms. Mitchell. Maybe he was taken to another hospital. I am sorry I don‘t have any more information than that.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks.”

  “Well, if there isn’t anything more you need from me, try and get some rest and I will check in on you later.” Sarah just nodded and hoped that Steven was okay.

  As soon as the doctor left the room, she picked up the phone and called Pop. Listening to the phone ring and ring, she waited anxiously. Then when someone picked up the phone, it was not who she wanted to talk to.

  “Hello,” said the stern voice.

  “Catherine, it’s Sarah. Is Pop around?” she asked as nice as she could.

  “You bitch! You have some nerve calling my house, after what you have done. It’s bad enough that you killed my son. Now you have to try and kill Steven. Don’t you ever call this house again,” she shouted vehemently at her and slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

  Sarah was numb. Steven was hurt.

  * * * *

  Spending the next two days in the hospital, Sarah was not surprised when no one came to visit, no one called. She received no get-well cards and no flowers. Her only visitors were the staff of the Elk Plain Hospital. By the end of day two, she received her release and dutifully listened to her home care instructions. She was escorted out of the hospital to a waiting cab.

  The drive home didn’t take long, less than fifteen minutes. As it pulled up into the drive, she refused to look at her empty home. Gathering her things, the cab driver opened the door for her and bid her a good day.

  Once inside, she placed her keys on the small table near the front door. Slowly walking upstairs to her bedroom, she closed the door behind her. Looking around her at all of her familiar things, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

  She fell to the floor and cried.

  There she stayed for the next three days.

  * * * *

  It was a knock at the door that finally woke her. She mustered all her energy and walked downstairs to find a short, stocky man in his late forties smiling at her.

  “Sarah.” He smiled kindly.

  “Gerald? What are you doing here?”

  “I have been trying to get a hold of you for days now. Is this a good time?” he asked.

  “Time for what?”

  “I have some documents for you to sign.”

  “What documents?”

  “Ms. Mitchell, your fiancé, William, contacted me a while back and asked me draw up a will for him. He was very adamant about it. He gave you five days after the funeral to sign the documents, or his estate will go charity. If you have a moment, we can take care of this and I can be on my way,” he replied.

  Sarah had to give it to Gerald. He never did beat around the bush.

  Ever since she met him seven years ago, he was stiff and firm, always stuck to a schedule, and didn’t play games. He took his job seriously. That’s probably why she hired him, especially after her last attorney bled her dry.

  “Fine, come in,” she said and moved to the side, allowing him to come in. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.

  “No thank you, I have another appointment in an hour.”

  Sarah led him into the kitchen while she ran water in the kettle for some tea. Sarah had no earthly idea why he was here, since their quarterly meeting wasn’t for another two months. Gerald found a seat at the table, laying his briefcase in front of him, and began, “Ms. Mitchell, I first want to begin with how sorry I am for your loss. Furthermore, I would also like to say how pleased I am to hear that you have healed. This shouldn’t take very long.”

  “Okay.”

  “I must say, you have weathered yourself very well.”

  “Thanks, I think.” She turned to smile at him.

  “I don’t mean any disrespect, it’s just with everything that you have had to endure, you seem to be handling yourself very well.”

  “That’s me—a rock.” She hated it when people pitied her. It made her feel like she was on display for all to gawk at. That was why she had left the business over five years ago, dropping out of sight and looking for her solitude. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to do just that once again, but right after she found out what Gerald Cromwell wanted with her.

  “Ms. Mitchell, the terms of William Webber’s will were very specific,” he began.

  “Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “William didn’t have a will, at least not one that I knew of.”

  “Let me assure you, William Webber does have a will,” he reiterated. “As I was saying, the will is very ironclad. You have till five p.m. today to decide what you want to do. He has left no room for a contest. So if by five p.m. today you decided you do not want anything, all of his estate goes to a home for impoverished children.”

  “Excuse me?” she asked, stunned.

  “William Webber picked that particular charity due to
the fact that this particular home houses and accommodates teens who have lost their parents. The home allows them a fresh start, easy access to public schools, food, clothing, housing, and scholarships if they decide to attend college. It tries to keep these kids off the streets,” he explained and continued on, “As for his will, it states, I, William Ross Webber, being of a sound mind, do bequeath all my worldly possessions to Sarah Renee Mitchell upon my death. All that I have and own is hers. She has exactly until 5:00 p.m. on the fifth day after my burial to decide her own fate. If she chooses not accept my worldly possessions, all that I own will immediately go to the Home of Saints and Angels in Seattle, Washington. As for the land in England, I bequeath it solely to her. She has no choice but to accept this, my last gift to her. She must accept the land even if she chooses to forfeit everything else.”

  The will was short, yes.

  Simple…hell no!

  It was just like William, too. He never could just sit and think about anything, everything was, now, now, now! For once, she wished he would drag something out. Sarah just sat there and watched Gerald lay the legal document in front of her.

  “Ms. Mitchell. You must make your decision,” he said firmly.

  Sitting there with a cup of hot tea between her hands, she sighed. She turned to the clock hanging on the wall near the stove and saw that William had literally only given her ten minutes to decide her own fate.

  In her whole life, she had never asked for anything, not even once. She grew up on the streets of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Her parents died when she was twelve, and after being shuffled from one foster home to the next, she finally gave up and ran away at the age of sixteen. She managed to finish high school and sang at a local club down on Bourbon Street. It was just after her seventeenth birthday when a famous music agent by the name of Sean “Sparky” Traveler found her and talked her into moving to Los Angeles. From there she started cutting CDs and even starred in a film or two. But after a couple of years she had had enough and wanted more, so, leaving it all behind her, she enrolled herself at Washington State University.

  After graduating with honors in literature with a minor in French, she found a job working with a local publishing house. She loved her job, and she excelled at it. It didn’t take long before she wrote her first book. Her new job also gave her the freedom to enjoy her leisurely pleasures, like the outdoors.

  An avid runner and hiker, she always pushed herself toward her next feat. It was when she entered the Boston Marathon that she met William. They hit it off from the start. He was excited when he learned she was also from Washington, and after the race, he never let her out of his sight. They spent all their free time together, and six months after they met they were engaged.

  She just didn’t know what to do. She looked at the clock again.

  Seven minutes left.

  Could she knowingly accept his possessions, with the knowledge that she would be denying kids a fresh start in life? If she didn’t accept it, she would have nothing. She needed to be sure.

  “Gerald, how much money do I have in the account?”

  “Which one?” He smiled.

  “How many do I have?”

  “Well, there’s the one I call ‘Rainy Day Fund,’ you know, stuff like if you need to pay a bill or you’re low on grocery money. Then there’s the‘Oh, Crap Fund.’ That’s for bigger things, like a new car, or something to get you resettled comfortably in a new place when you feel the need for a change. Finally there’s what I like to refer to as the ‘Thank You, Gerald, Fund.’ That’s for when you come to your senses and decide to start living your life again, instead of hiding out like a hermit,” he informed her blatantly.

  Looking very suspiciously at him, her eyes narrowed as she coolly asked, “Just exactly how much money do I have, Gerald?”

  “7.3 million and some change, but that was when I checked last month. I haven’t got your updated portfolio yet.”

  Sarah was in a state of shock. She didn’t know how to respond. Just how in the hell had she amassed so much money in such a short time? Well, five years really wasn’t a long time, but seven million, holy crap!

  His expression changed, and Gerald quickly raised her hand to stop her. “You hired to me to do a job, and I have done just that. Everything is all legal, so don’t worry. So I didn’t tell you all the facts, but I figured what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, plus you prefer to live by your own means. So…” he said, looking at his watch, “have you made your decision?”

  She could start over again. She knew she could. It was nothing new for her. She could just pack her bag and leave. She had money, mostly due to the fact that Gerald was apparently very meticulous with her finances. It was enough for a ticket somewhere. She could just leave and start over, a fresh start. No mistakes. Looking around at her home, her heart fell.

  Everything was here, her life with William, her memories, and her laughter. If she stayed, she could still be happy. Couldn’t she? What about those kids? They had nothing, nobody. She had nobody once. She knew what it was going to be like for them. They deserved all that William could offer. She just didn’t know.

  Four minutes.

  “Ms. Mitchell, you must decide,” Mr. Cromwell implored, interrupting her thoughts.

  “I know.”

  Why are you having trouble making this decision, Sarah? You know what you’re going to do. Just say it.Say the words and move on, her subconscious rang in her head.

  Two minutes.

  With a light heart, Sarah looked at Gerald and said, “Give it to the kids.”

  “Is that your final decision?”

  “Yes,” she said with a glad feeling in her heart. She knew she was doing the right thing.

  “Good. Now on to the other matter,” he began.

  “What other matter?” she interrupted him again. Mr. Cromwell smiled and removed another legal document and started reading. “I, William Ross Webber, do bequeath one hundred acres, north of Ipswich, England, to Sarah Renee Mitchell. It is my hope that she once again finds the magic of life that she once showed me,” he concluded. Then, reaching into his briefcase, he removed a letter and handed it to her. Sarah took the letter and read,

  My Darling Sarah,

  I knew you would do the right thing. I am so proud of you.

  Go, my love, and find happiness once again. Find your next adventure.

  And always remember that I love you.

  William

  “Thank you, Gerald,” was all she could reply.

  “I have received a call from Bucky. He wants you to call him,” Gerald informed her quietly.

  “I’m busy,” she whispered.

  “That’s what I told him, but you know Bucky.”

  “Yeah, just like I know that wasn’t all he said,” she said, smiling at him. “What did he actually say?”

  Gerald took a deep breath and sighed. “That animal said get off your lazy ass and pick up the damn phone and give him a call. Stop bitching and just do it.” Gerald finished, rolling his eyes. “Well, if that’s all, I will let myself out. Once again, Ms. Mitchell, I am truly sorry for your loss.” He spoke softly and then quietly left. Sitting there, Sarah just stared at the letter. After reading it several times, she placed the letter back into the envelope and headed upstairs.

  * * * *

  Washington, November 28th

  The line was moving slowly as Sarah stood quietly, waiting for her turn at the ticket counter to check in. With a small carry-on and two large suitcases, she had managed to pack for any type of weather. It was going to be a very long flight, so she prepared herself with magazines and two books. Her small iPod was tucked into her jacket, and thanks to Mr. Cromwell, she now owned a PSP. It was a funny going-away gift, but she loved it.

  She still couldn’t believe she was doing this.

  The news had shocked Pop, but feeling like she had nothing left in Washington, she knew she made the right decision when she saw those kids in Seattle, and she was actually
looking forward to the move to Scotland. She needed a fresh start on a fresh continent. Plus, putting a couple thousand miles between her and Catherine was a plus. Her only regret was that she was leaving Pop and Steven. They were sad to see her go, but they understood completely.

  The selling of her house in Elk Plain didn’t take too long. She was happy to hear that a family wanted to purchase the home. The thought of small children growing up there made her feel wonderful. As for William’s part of the business, it was signed over to Steven. The cars were sold at auction, and the money was donated to a children’s hospital in Seattle.

  All she had left now was the land in Scotland, where she was planning to start over. She was surprised to hear that William had built a small cottage on the property. She liked the idea of Scotland from the first. It was one of the best memories she had, and the thought of being there once again warmed her soul. She liked the idea of being in the place that made her feel closest to William.

  As she made her way down the tunnel, her heart started to race as she heard that familiar sound emanating from behind her. People were yelling, “It’s her!” and, “Oh my God!” Stepping up her pace, she tried to hurry through the small crowd, but fate wasn’t going to have any of it.

  “Ms. Mitchell! Can I have your autograph?” the voice from behind her shouted. In that instant, all eyes turned and started searching until they were all on her. Stopping and taking a deep breath, she told herself, come on, game time. Put on that brave face.

  With the biggest smile she could muster, she turned and slowly removed her sunglasses.

  It took more than thirty minutes, and with the help from airport security, they got her to her plane. She always hated making a scene, and that was one of the reasons she dropped off the face of the earth. She wanted her privacy back. She was never able to go anywhere without someone yelling her name or the bright flashes from the photographers. It all became too much for her. It was enough to drive even the mildest person mad. But living that life once came with the territory.