I smiled at the sheriff and then turned to watch as the crowd parted to allow the man who had won the winning bid make his way to the front of the room. My smile faltered, and I froze. It was Donovan. What the hell was he doing here? I glanced at Jerry, and then at the sheriff, and gave a slight shake of my head.
"No," I gasped. I was filled with disbelief and stunned amazement. Within a matter of moments, Donovan stood before me, grinning. "No," I muttered again, shaking my head.
Donovan pulled out his wallet, removed some cash, and handed it to the sheriff. Then, he turned to me. "Memphis," he said, offering his hand.
He was fucking loving this.
"No," I said again, shaking my head, not loud enough for anyone but him to hear. "You can't be serious"
"I'm perfectly serious," he said. "Remember, it's for charity."
I turned once again to Jerry and the sheriff, who abruptly gestured for me to leave the so-called stage area to make room for the next waitress to come out.
“The next lovely lady doing her part for our charity is none other than Miss Sally Mae Jenkins!” Again, excited cheers and laughter greeted her emergence from the kitchen area.
Donovan gently grasped my hand and guided me through the crowd toward the front door. "Donovan, this isn't—"
"I bid fair and square," he said. "So you're not going to renege on your deal, are you?"
"But Donovan, really, this isn’t necessary!" I stammered as we walked out of the bar and grill, the bidding going hot and heavy for Sally Mae. "You could’ve just called on me—"
"How was I supposed to do that?" he asked. "I haven't seen you since the funeral, and you haven't been by the ranch."
"This is a private time for you and your family," I insisted. "I'm not about to intrude on such a personal thing."
He led me toward the side of the building, still within sight of the well-lit windows facing the parking lot. "Shane told me that you've been doing the books for my dad for the past few years."
"That's right," I said. "Again, that's something that could have been discussed without you having to bid on me for this charity auction."
He shrugged. "I consider it money well spent. I'm going to be in town for at least a few more days and heard about the auction. I thought it might be fun."
"Fun? For you maybe, but not for me," I muttered.
"Where's your community spirit?" he teased.
"Don't you tease me about community spirit," I snapped. "In fact, I doubt if you even know the meaning of the word anymore."
His smile disappeared. "Memphis, I'm here now, so can we try to make the best of it?"
I shook my head. "We could've done that without you bidding for dates, for crying out loud!"
It was his turn to shake his head. "I kind of doubt that. Besides, we need to talk."
"Talk? No. It's kind of late for that, don't you think?"
He sighed. "Look, Memphis, I realize I've made a lot of mistakes—"
"Mistakes?" I broke in, my eyebrows lifting. "Is that what you call your disappearing act and breaking off contact for the past eight years? A mistake?"
"I didn't break off contact," he insisted. "I talked to my mom a couple times…but I figured that the rest of family didn't want to have anything to do with me after—"
"After you just walked out on everyone's lives?" I couldn't help but ask. "After you walked out on me?" He didn't answer but continued to look down at me, an unfathomable expression on his face. "Look, Donovan, I don't mean to make you feel bad, especially right after you've just buried your father. But to be quite blunt, there's nothing more between us. You left and I moved on. You've made a life for yourself, and so have I."
"You get married?" he asked.
I paused, wondering if I should even answer his question. Then, I decided it wouldn't serve any purpose not to. "No. What about you?"
"No," he said.
I had a million questions but didn't want to voice them. After all, we were over, weren't we? He had moved on, and I had just told him that I had. No sense in dredging up old wounds, opening old scars, and reliving the hurt. "I've got to go back inside," I said finally.
He sighed and nodded. "Can I see you tomorrow?"
I thought about it, and returned the nod. Better to get these "dates" over with as quickly as possible and then he would leave. I started to head back into the bar and grill, and then paused to look over my shoulder. "Call me in the morning. My number’s the same."
Chapter 7
Donovan
I walked into the attorney’s office behind my mother, with Julie and Shane close behind. Cameron and Tammy were to meet us here, but Shane, Julie, my mother and I had come together in Mom’s car. Damien had gone to his hotel room in town where he was going to stay for a few hours, making phone calls and using their business center to take care of some business.
The secretary nodded and smiled as we entered.
"You’re the Sandersons?"
"Yes," my mom told her. "We're still waiting for two others."
The four of us situated ourselves in the comfortably furnished waiting area but no one spoke. Several minutes later the door opened and Cameron stepped in, standing back to allow Tammy to enter, and then he closed the door softly behind him. While Tammy stepped toward the settee where Mom and Julie sat, Cameron remained standing by the door. I sat in a chair by myself.
"I'll let Mister Bowman know that you're all here," the secretary said. She stood, knocked once on the door, and then entered the attorney’s office, closing the door softly behind her.
Several moments later she emerged. "Give him one more minute," she said. "He's finishing up with a phone call."
We all waited without much conversation. My mom and the girls murmured softly among themselves. It wasn't as if my mom didn't have a copy of Dad’s will, but apparently there were some other items that the attorney had wanted to discuss with her, as well as the family. Even though I was a latecomer to the entire situation regarding the ranch, I was interested in knowing how the ranch was doing, and if Mom would be okay financially, depending on Dad's life insurance policy coupled with the income the ranch would bring in.
Several moments later, the door to the attorney’s office opened and a portly, middle-aged, and balding man appeared. "Lisa Sanderson and family?" he said, eyebrows lifted. He nodded without waiting for an answer and introduced himself. "I'm Steven Bowman. Please, come into my office."
As a group we stood. My mom entered the office first, followed by the girls, Shane, myself, and then Cameron. There weren't enough chairs in the room to accommodate us all, so my brothers and I remained standing while my mom and my sisters each took their seats in front of the attorney’s desk. I glanced around the well-appointed office. A number of file cabinets were stacked one on top of the other in one corner, while three or four bookcases filled with law journals, textbooks, and who knew what else took up most of the other wall. Behind the attorney’s desk was a window that overlooked Main Street, still relatively quiet and calm at nine o'clock on a Monday morning. The attorney cleared his throat and looked at all of us in turn, and then at my mother.
“First, I want to express my condolences regarding Frank's death," Mr. Bowman began. "He was a good man."
"We hadn't realized that Dad had procured the services of an attorney," Cameron stated. "How long have you been working with him?"
Mr. Bowman looked at Cameron. "Frank contacted me about three years ago," he explained. "He wanted to have his affairs in order, especially in regard to the ranch. Now we need to go over all that with you, Missus Sanderson."
I glanced at my mom, who watched the attorney with a wide-eyed and somewhat surprised expression. I knew that she had been unaware of my dad’s seeing an attorney, and I could imagine that she was wondering why he wouldn't have discussed it with her.
"Well, let's get started," Mr. Bowman remarked, again clearing his throat.
He opened the file folder in front of him on his desk ledger and re
trieved a copy of what I assumed was Dad’s will. He glanced at my mom.
"He's left everything to you, Missus Sanderson with full discretion as to how you want to deal with the property. If you hold onto it, and upon your death, the property will be in turn handed down to your children. Frank did not specify how the division of the property would work out, but did mention that you and the children could discuss that if, and when the time came." He paused. "Missus Sanderson, I'm not sure if you or Frank ever discussed the state of the ranch in the event you both passed away, but I would strongly urge you to have some discussions with your family, make decisions, and put those decisions in writing so that there's no confusion regarding dispensation in the future."
While I realized that the attorney was right, I didn't want to think of my mom dying anytime soon. Then again, I hadn't thought my dad would die so young, either. I glanced at my mom and saw her nod.
"We will deal with that very soon, Mister Bowman," she stated. "Can you tell me what's going to happen now?" She shook her head. "Frank's passing was extremely unexpected. I don't even know if I have access to some of his accounts. We were joint account holders at the bank, and I know that both our signatures are on the deed for the ranch when it was handed down to us, but I'm not sure about any acquisitions he's made in the past… well, the past ten or fifteen years, I guess."
I glanced at Mom, and then at Tammy, who offered a slight shake of her head. Over her shoulder, I saw Cameron frown.
"You mean Mom might have some difficulty with any business dealings that have to do with the ranch?" Cameron questioned.
The attorney shrugged. “Probably not, at least not right now. There is documentation regarding the ranch finances, separate from the will, which like I said, leaves all of his monetary assets - and debts - to you, Missus Sanderson." He cleared his throat, glanced down at the papers before him, and continued rather hesitantly. "However, I regret to inform you that the ranch has been struggling for the past few years—"
"Exactly what do you mean by struggling?” I broke in.
"To be blunt, it's in the red," the attorney stated, studying the figures on the paper. He glanced up. "I'll be giving you a copy of everything I have. To be honest, the ranch is in dire straits—"
Mom gasped, and I glanced over to see her face drain of color. Julie and Tammy seemed just as shocked, and Shane pushed himself away from the wall where he leaned, a look of confusion on his face.
"What?" Cameron asked, a frown darkening his features. "You mean to tell me the ranch is close to going belly up?"
He glanced at Shane, the girls, and my mom, then back at the lawyer, his expression one of intense surprise. He had not looked at me.
The attorney nodded. "Unfortunately. According to the bank note, property taxes have only been partially paid in the past few years. The debts accrued by the ranch, for feed, livestock, and equipment have far surpassed the profits—"
I sat stunned. Dad was in trouble and hadn't told anyone. "How much debt?" I asked. The attorney glanced at Mom, the girls, and then at me.
"Close to one hundred thousand," he said quietly.
Mom let out a soft wail of despair and both Julie and Tammy grew wide-eyed with shock. Shane and Cameron exchanged glances and it became quickly obvious that I wasn't the only one who had been left in the dark. "Foreclosure proceedings haven't begun, have they?" I asked.
"Not yet," Bowman said. "But if some of this debt isn’t repaid back by the end of the month, the bank may very well press for foreclosure. What I need to talk to Missus Sanderson about is the possibility of filing for bankruptcy—"
"The Rocking S has been in the family since the early 1930s!" Cameron burst out. "No one is selling a damn thing, and no one is filing for bankruptcy." He moved toward the desk. "Mom, you knew nothing about the financial status of the ranch?"
Mom looked over her shoulder, tears in her eyes, and shook her head. "No, no idea!" she got out, her voice soft as a whisper and filled with shock. "Frank never said anything about financial difficulties.”
"You never looked at the books, Mom?" I asked.
She glanced at me, eyes wide with fear. "There was never any reason to. Frank always took care of the books, though for the past few years, Memphis has been helping him with them.”
I sighed. It was obvious that Memphis and I had some talking to do, and that talking involved more than our old relationship. I glanced up at Cameron. "You or Shane didn't have any idea that the ranch was in trouble?"
Cameron glared at me for a moment, then sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. Shane shook his head as well. I felt guilty. While I was off in New York amassing large amounts of money, billionaire status actually, my dad had been burdened with the finances of the ranch, unable to tell his family what had been going on. Why he didn't do so was beyond me. Probably a misplaced sense of pride or downright stubbornness, both which suited my dad to a tee. Mom had started to weep, and though Tammy and Julie both tried to console her, I could tell they were scared too. What would happen to my mom if she lost the ranch? It was her home, her life.
Cameron was in no position to take over the ranch; and even though he owned his own automotive business, he was not in a financial position to help much. For the other members of the family, one hundred thousand dollars might as well have been a million. I knew then that I would have to step in, but in such a way so that none of the other family members knew I was helping. I was already on thin ice with Cameron, Shane seemed undecided about my presence, and while Tammy and Julie seemed indifferent, now was not the time for me to be bragging, boasting, or in any other way letting them know of my successful business ventures or my financial success. For them, it was a matter of pride. They wouldn’t accept charity, not even from me. It would be like rubbing their noses in it, and that's the last thing I wanted to do at this point.
"Can we please get a copy of everything you have regarding the ranch and my dad's finances?” I glanced at my mom. "Does she need a power of attorney or anything to access any of dad's financial accounts?"
The attorney nodded. "Yes, but Frank signed a release for her to take over his power of attorney in the event something happened to him."
I was rather surprised that my dad had not placed the responsibility for the ranch on either Cameron or Shane's shoulders. I wasn't surprised that such responsibility hadn’t been left to me either, as I had been out of the picture for quite some time.
"What's going to happen now?" Tammy broached, her eyes filled with tears and her voice uncertain.
"That I can't tell you," the attorney said. "I'm sorry that the news isn’t much better. The only thing that might delay any foreclosure process is for some kind of a good faith payment to be made against the debts that have accrued."
Julie and Tammy glanced at one another, and then at Cameron. "But none of us has even close to that kind of money. What kind of a payment are we talking about?"
The attorney shrugged. "Five to ten thousand would be a good start," he said.
Mom uttered a low moan and placed her head in her hands. I wanted to say something. "Mom, we'll figure it out—"
"And how do you propose to do that, Donovan?" Cameron demanded.
I tried to maintain the voice of calm, as everyone in the room appeared to be quickly headed to a state of panic. I forged ahead. "I've got some money put away—"
"Nobody wants any money from you!" Cameron interrupted. "Who do you think you are, just popping back into our lives after you've been gone for nearly ten years, and now here you are, claiming you can save the day? I oughta—"
"Boys," my mother interrupted. "This is not the time, nor the place."
My pride in my mother surged as she straightened her back, lifted her chin, and looked at the attorney. "We'll figure something out,” she stated firmly. “We're not going to lose that ranch."
With that, my mother stood, the girls following suit. The attorney glanced at me, shoveled some papers and handed me copies of Dad’s wil
l as well as the paperwork associated with the ranch. I would have to take a good, close look at it later on, and then I needed to talk to Memphis. She had to have known what was going on, and I needed to know why the hell she hadn't divulged the information to the family. Or me.
Chapter 8
Memphis
I was in town just finishing up some shopping when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and pressed answer without looking at who was calling, my usual habit. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized the voice on the other end.
"Memphis, Donovan here."
His voice sounded subdued. I frowned. "Donovan?" I knew the family had gone to meet with Frank's attorney this morning, and I could only imagine that they had been told about the financial status of the ranch. I had urged Frank to discuss the situation with someone in the family. If not Lisa, then surely Cameron. He had adamantly insisted that not one word was to be shared with anyone else in the family.
"We need to talk," Donovan said.
"Sure," I said, placing the last bag of groceries into my truck cab and closing the door. I walked around the back end of the truck to climb in on the driver side. "Are we counting this get-together as one of our dates?" I knew the question came out a bit sarcastically, and I regretted it, but did not amend my comment. I wasn't sure how I felt about these dates, or if I even wanted to be around Donovan anymore. To be completely honest with myself, it hurt. While part of me still longed for him, and I probably would always feel that way, I didn't want to end up some spinster who had pined for a man loved and lost for the rest of her life.
"Can you meet me at the Chit Chat tonight at seven? What’s your work schedule today?"
I didn't want Donovan to know that I was not scheduled to work today, just in case he decided to drag on the date any longer than I wanted. "I'm not sure. I'll have to check." I felt a little guilty for deceiving him, but again, I was only trying to protect myself – my heart. "I need to go home and put some groceries away and do some other things, but I can meet you at the restaurant at seven."
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