by Ginna Gray
"That's your right, of course. But you should know it will be expensive and it could take years. In my opinion, in the end you'd lose. I'm telling you this as a friend, Willie, not as your stepfather's attorney. Trust me, the will is air-tight."
"I see." Her full mouth folded into a bitter line. "Then I guess I have no choice but to accept the conditions."
"Maybe you don't have a choice, but we do," Zach said.
"Oh, please." She shot him a look of patent disbelief. "Surely you don't expect me to believe that you would actually turn down the bequest. Yeah, right."
"This may come as a shock to you, Ms. Simmons, but we had lives of our own prior to Seamus's death."
"That's right," Matt snapped. "I say to hell with it. And Seamus. I'll be damned if I'll let that old tyrant dictate to me how and where I live my life."
"I agree," J.T. chimed in.
Zach nodded. "I'll admit, that was my first knee-jerk reaction, as well."
"You fools!" Fear that she might actually lose all claim to the ranch wiped away every other consideration. "Do you city slickers have any idea what such a rash decision would cost all of us? What we'd be giving up? I don't like what Seamus has done any better than you, but only an idiot would toss away a fortune of this size. Tell them, Edward."
The attorney rattled off the appraised value of the ranch and last year's revenues.
Matt let out a low whistle, but J.T. was more vocal.
"Holy cow! This place is worth a freakin' fortune!"
"The Rocking R is one of the largest ranches in this part of the country, and our firm's most important client." Edward paused.
"You have exactly two weeks from today, both to make up your minds and to do whatever you need to do and move in. Once you do that, the year begins."
"Mmm. Two weeks isn't much time. We need to talk it over before we make a decision," Zach said.
"Of course. I understand."
"Well, I don't," Willa snapped. "What is the matter with you people? You can't seriously be thinking of refusing? No one throws away a chance like this."
"Miss Simmons, if we do this, it's going to change all of our lives. Yours included. The least we can do is talk it over calmly and take a vote. So why don't you sit down."
"I don't need to talk it over. I can give you my vote right now. I detest the very idea of sharing the Rocking R with you people, but this is my home, and I'll do whatever I have to to keep it. Even if that means putting up with a bunch of greenhorn freeloaders." She stormed out and slammed the door behind her.
Edward winced. "I'm sorry about that. I do hope you'll excuse Willie." Standing, he slipped his reading glasses into a leather case and put them and the will into his briefcase and snapped it shut. "I know it doesn't seem so now, but she's really a nice person and normally quite good-natured and easy to get along with."
"We understand. She's upset, and apparently with good reason."
Matt rolled his eyes at his wife's comment. "Spoken like a psychiatrist. You ask me, she's a spoiled brat."
"That's not fair," Maude Ann protested. "From the sound of it, Seamus has been stringing that poor girl along for years."
"You don't know the half of it," Edward said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be going. It's a long way to Bozeman. When you've reached a decision, give me a call. If I'm not at my office you can reach me on my cell phone," he said, handing each of them his business card.
He turned to leave, then hesitated. "Uh … it's true that the Rocking R Ranch is a sizable inheritance, but I feel I must warn you, if you decide to stay you'll earn every penny you get from it. Running a ranch this size is far from easy, and nothing is guaranteed. A poor calf crop, a string of bad luck, a few slaps from Mother Nature can hurt even a place this size. It won't be a piece of cake."
Zach didn't need anyone to tell him about the hardships and perils of ranching. He knew them firsthand. In college he'd earned degrees in ranch management and business and before going out on the rodeo circuit he'd been general manager of the Carter Cattle Company, better known as the Triple C, a huge spread near Ridgeway, Colorado. Zach, however, saw no need to mention that to the attorney.
"Well, this is certainly an unexpected turn of events," Kate said when Edward had gone. "From what you told Maude Ann and me about Seamus, I thought we'd attend a funeral, then go home with five dollars or some such slap-in-the-face bequest."
"Yeah, we all did," Matt agreed. "I wonder what made the old man change his mind?"
"My guess is, during our first visit here he somehow picked up on the strain between us," Zach said. "The old coot probably took sadistic delight in that. Like Manning said, he cooked up this whole thing to stir up trouble and make claiming the inheritance as difficult as possible."
"Right," J.T. agreed. "Wherever he is, he's probably laughing himself silly right now."
"He's got us in a bind, that's certain. If just one of us refuses to go along with the conditions, we all lose." Matt swept the others with a regretful look. "Much as I hate to, I'm afraid I'm going to have to be the bad guy. Maudie and I can't just abandon Henley Haven and pick up and move here. The kids we foster need her care."
"Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, I can't ask Kate to give up the Alpine Rose, either. Her parents spent years restoring that house and she's turned it into a profitable business. Added to that, she grew up in Gold Fever. It makes no difference to me where I live. I can write anywhere, but I won't rob her of her home."
"Before you two start making any noble sacrifices, don't you think you should ask Kate and me what we think?"
"Maude Ann's right. What kind of wife would I be if I stood in the way of your inheritance? Besides, I wouldn't have to sell the bed-and-breakfast. I'm sure I could hire someone to run it for me. And while it's true that I love the Colorado mountains, have you looked around? It's not too shabby here, either."
"The same applies to Henley Haven," Maude Ann stated emphatically. "I can get another psychiatrist to take over for me, and Jane will stay on. And there's no reason why I can't continue to work with abused children. I'm sure there are some here in Montana who need my help."
"But what about our own kids? They—"
"Will love it here," Maude Ann insisted before Matt could finish. "Can you think of a better place to raise five rambunctious children than on a ranch? Or to shelter others? The wide-open spaces will be good for them. And the drier climate will be good for your leg."
Matt frowned at the mention of his disability. It had been seventeen months since he taken that bullet that had ended his career as a detective with the Houston Police Department and left him with a permanent limp.
"Still … I don't know."
According to J.T., Matt had become more flexible since marrying Maude Ann, but it was still his first instinct to resist change of any kind. Watching him, Zach could see the struggle going on inside his taciturn brother.
"We're talking about a complete change in lifestyle and careers," Matt argued. "I don't know anything about ranching. Neither does J.T."
"No, but Zach does," J.T. said in a thoughtful voice, beginning to warm to the idea. "And you and I can learn."
"Maybe. Still, we all have to live together in this house," Matt said.
And that, Zach thought, was the real crux of the problem. He, J.T. and Matt might be brothers, but they didn't really know one another. A year ago they had made contact again, but a lifetime apart had created a chasm between them that they couldn't seem to breech.
Kate said they didn't try, and maybe that was true. At best, their relationship was distant, with currents of disquiet and wariness, even an undefined resentment running just below the surface, making them guarded with one another. For whatever reason, the fact remained that they were strangers.
"It will be awkward, I guess," J.T. agreed. "But it's not as though it'll be forever. Let's not forget that we're talking about a fortune here. And regardless of what Willa Simmons thinks, we are the rightful heirs. W
e'd be fools to turn it down. Surely we can manage to rub along together for a year. At the end of that time if anyone is miserable, they can sell out."
Matt looked at Zach. "You've sure been quiet. What do you think?"
"I think I should stay out of this discussion and let the four of you decide. All of you know that owning a ranch is my dream. I'd put up with anything, even Ms. Simmons, to own a part of this place, but I don't think it would be fair for me to try to influence you."
"Yeah, but do you think we could live and work together for a whole year?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I'm sure Seamus figured if he threw us together we'd be at one another's throats inside of a week. But one way or another, we won't know unless we try. One thing is certain, though. It's what Colleen would have wanted us to do."
* * *
Chapter 2
« ^ »
Sadie's furious barking and the sound of vehicles approaching caught Willa's attention. Tossing aside the curry brush, she gave her horse an absent pat and walked over to the barn door, arriving just in time to see a caravan of vehicles – a pickup loaded with boxes, three SUVs towing rented moving trailers and a minivan – pull into the ranch yard at the back of the house. Instantly her whole body tightened.
Pete Brewster left the tack he'd been repairing and came to stand beside her. "Looks like they's here."
Gritting her teeth, Willa folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. She watched Zach hop out of the pickup cab and go over to one of the SUVs and say something to Kate as she climbed from behind the wheel.
"Made it just in time," the old man continued, undaunted by Willa's hostile silence. He paused to squirt a stream of tobacco juice into the ground to one side of the door, then added, "Be two weeks t'morra since the funeral."
"Oh, there was never any doubt they'd make the deadline," Willa muttered. "I'm sure they couldn't wait to get here and claim the lion's share of the ranch."
"'Pears to me you oughta be glad 'bout that, 'stead of standin' there looking like you just swallered a lemon. The way I heard it, if they hadn't'a accepted the inheritance, you'd be out on your ear."
Willa glared at the old man, but he paid no attention. With a huff she returned her gaze to the line of vehicles.
Pete had worked on the Rocking R for almost sixty years, even before Seamus had inherited the ranch. He'd taught her to ride and rope and brand, how to string barbed wire, build a campfire, inoculate and castrate cattle and the other myriad skills that ranch life entailed, skills Seamus either had not had the time, patience or inclination to teach her. When Willa had been a child Pete had been the one who bandaged her cuts and scrapes and dried her tears if her mother or Maria wasn't around. He'd also given her backside a wallop a few times when he'd thought she deserved it. Willa's temper didn't faze Pete.
"Yes, well … that's what makes it so galling. That and the fact that they have no to right to this place."
"Well, now, I don't rightly know as how I'd agree with you there, Willie, seeing as how they's old Seamus's grandsons, wrong side of the blanket or no. You'd best accept it, girl. Blood counts fer a lot, 'specially to a feller like Seamus."
"So I've discovered." She tapped one booted foot against the hard-packed ground, simmering inside. "Maybe they have the legal right, but they don't deserve it. They've never put in so much as a day's work on this ranch. While I was pouring my blood, sweat and tears into the place all those years, where were they? When Seamus needed them, where were they? They never bothered to call him or write to him or come for a visit their whole lives. Then, when he was so old it was obvious he couldn't last much longer, they showed up with their greedy hands out."
"You know that fer sure an' certain, do ya?" Pete rolled his cud of tobacco to his other cheek and slanted her a glinty look out of the corner of his eye.
"Seamus said— Good grief! I don't believe it! Look at all those children! One, two, three – why there's five of them."
"Looks like it," Pete agreed.
"Just what we need," Willa mumbled. "A bunch of chattering kids underfoot. They'll be nothing but a nuisance."
"Oh, I dunno 'bout that. When you was no bigger than a button you tagged after me or Seamus all the time, soakin' up ever'thing like a sponge. Tell you the truth, I plum enjoyed it. Ya ask me, havin' younguns around sorta brings a place to life."
Willa made a noncommittal sound. It wasn't so much the children who worried her, it was the adults, the five strangers with whom she would have to share her home. Her gaze zeroed in on Zach again. That one in particular bothered her. Just watching him, even from that distance, made her edgy and irritable. What was it about the man?
Willa watched as Maria bustled out the kitchen door onto the back porch, wiping her hands on her apron. The elderly housekeeper hurried down the gravel walkway and greeted the adults effusively then made a big fuss over the children, persuading the oldest boy to leave the horses in the corral, but after a brief exchange the sulky child climbed down off the corral fence and stomped after the others.
Everyone disappeared inside, and Willa turned to go back into the barn but she stopped when she spotted a red pickup cresting the rise at the top of the road.
Visitors to the Rocking R were rare enough that Willa experienced a dart of surprise. Thanks to Seamus's rotten disposition, with the exception of his grandsons, about the only outsiders who ever set foot on the property were George Pierce, the local veterinarian, and Edward Manning.
Shading her eyes with her hand, she squinted against the glare of the sun and watched the truck descend the road into the valley. It wasn't one of theirs. All the Rocking R pickups were silver-gray. Willa couldn't see who was behind the wheel, but the truck looked vaguely familiar. Who in the world…?
Recognition came with a jolt. Before the shock wore off, her legs were moving. By the time the truck came to a stop in the ranch yard behind the line of parked vehicles she was there to meet it.
"What are you doing here, Lennie?" she demanded, making no effort to hide the irritation in her voice. Not that it mattered. Lennard Dawson was much too self-involved to notice. The man had the sensitivity of a stump.
He flashed what he fancied to be a killer grin. "Why, I came to see you, gorgeous. I figured since Seamus wasn't around to object anymore, I'd drop by and see if you'd like to go out tomorrow night."
Willa barely stifled a groan. She might have known. Eight months ago she'd made the mistake of going out with Lennie. It had been only one date, and she never would have accepted that if Seamus hadn't butted in and forbidden her to go.
Lennie was handsome and as the only child and heir of another local rancher he was probably the most eligible bachelor in that part of Montana. The trouble was, he knew it. Willa hadn't liked him when they were kids, and in her opinion he had not improved with age.
In addition, there had been bad blood between Seamus and Lennie's father, Henry Dawson, for years. Over what, Willa had no idea, as Seamus had refused to discuss the matter, but for that reason alone, had he given her the chance, she would have refused the invitation without a qualm.
Her entire life she'd gone out on only a few dates, and never twice with the same man. Somehow Seamus had managed to run off every male who had ever shown an interest in her. That night his high-handedness had been the last straw, and for once she'd defied him and agreed to meet Lennie in town for dinner.
She'd been ruing that rare act of rebellion ever since. It had taken no more than five minutes in Lennie's company for her to realize that she still could not abide the man, but he was too conceited to notice. Ever since that night, he'd been acting proprietorial toward her whenever they bumped into each other in town. She'd even heard that he'd been telling people they were a couple. Willa had taken him to task at the first opportunity, but Lennie had just laughed and brushed aside her ire, saying if it weren't for Seamus, they would be. So far, nothing she said made the slightest difference.
Lennie reached for the door handle, but Willa stopped him. "D
on't bother getting out. My answer is no."
"Look, we could drive over to Bozeman and take in a movie. Or just go out to dinner and see what happens after," he said with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.
"Nothing is going to happen, because I'm not going out with you. Will you get it through that thick head of yours that I'm not interested?"
Lennie hooked his left elbow over the window frame and gave her a coaxing look. "Aw, c'mon, Willie. Seamus kept you on a short lead from the time you turned fourteen and developed knockers. It's past time you kicked up your heels, babe."
"Don't call me babe," Willa snapped. "And trust me, if I ever decide to kick up my heels, it won't be with you."
Willa heard the back door open and close, and when Lennie glanced in that direction his cocky smile collapsed.
"Who's that?" he demanded, scowling.
She looked over her shoulder in time to see Zach lope down the porch steps and head for his pickup. He glanced in her direction and nodded, but otherwise ignored them and began untying the ropes securing the boxes in the truck bed.
"That's Zach Mahoney, one of the new owners of the Rocking R," she said, unable to hide her resentment. "He and his brothers and their families arrived just a few minutes ago."
"One of Colleen's bastards, huh. Everybody in town in talking about them. Is he married?"
"No, just Matt and J.T."
Lennie's scowl deepened. "I don't like it."
"Don't like what?"
"Him living in the house with you."
"What? You don't have the right to like or dislike anything that goes on here, Lennie Dawson."
She could have saved her breath.
"Damn that Seamus. Don't you see what that scheming old devil was up to? He figured he'd throw you and his bastard grandson together and let nature take its course."
"Seamus may have been autocratic about a lot of things, but he wouldn't go so far as to pick out a husband for me."