She nodded reluctantly. “Let Garrett know I’ll make a statement if I need to.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he can fill in the blanks, and he’ll ask if he needs anything else.” He looked up over her shoulder and smiled. Leah followed his gaze to Shakota waddling quickly in her direction.
Leah practically fell into her arms, and they cried together. Then, Leah pulled back and swiped at the tears on her cheeks, taking the tissue Shakota offered and blowing her nose. “I’m sorry. The last thing you need is a bunch of emotional turmoil.”
“Oh, Leah, it’s not your fault. We all loved her. No one was prepared to lose Ms. Daisy.” Shakota put an arm around her shoulder and guided her to where Gillian stood outside the circle of officials. “Are you ready to go?” Shakota asked her, drawing her away from a conversation with the local funeral director.
Gillian nodded and held up a finger. “I’ll call you in the morning, Allen. I’m sure we’ll know more about what she wanted by then.” She stepped away from the man and took a deep breath. “You know, I do this because it keeps me from getting too emotional, but sometimes, making all the plans and arrangements for everything, even in a small town, gets overwhelming.”
“But we appreciate everything you do,” Leah sniffled. “Ms. Daisy doesn’t have any family she’s close to, and I don’t know the first thing about funerals and all. Not that I believe for a second I’m strong enough to get through it all, even if I knew what to do.”
They walked slowly toward Shakota’s SUV, and Gillian asked quietly, “You do know her lawyer, don’t you?”
Leah nodded. She dealt with the guy fairly frequently when it came to business handlings, but Bertram Sanderson was also Daisy Brooks’ personal attorney. “I’ll call him when we get back into town and let him know what’s going on. I’m sure he’ll have the right paperwork and all the answers.” Of course, she’d probably have to let Gillian do all the talking. She didn’t even know what to ask. There should be a will, and he should have something drawn up of what burial arrangements Ms. Daisy had or wanted.
In the meantime, Leah would have to break the news to all the employees at the diner, and she’d have to take over the place. With no one else to take it, Ms. Daisy had probably left the café to her, and Leah was determined to do the old woman proud.
Chapter 3
“You can’t be serious.” Easton drove the rented sedan past an old wooden sign with a painted mountain reading, Welcome to Courage. He knew his grandmother lived out in the middle of nothing, but he’d expected the county seat of Treasure County to consist or more than some dusty old buildings lining the edges of a main road in such disrepair it might as well be dirt.
At least he wasn’t driving his S63 AMG Mercedes Coupe. The dirt alone in this place would have ruined the ruby black metallic paint in a matter of minutes. He cringed at the thought of having to repair the coat on the brand new car he’d just spent over one hundred sixty thousand dollars on.
The diner wasn’t hard to find; it was the only building that didn’t appear quite like it should be condemned, though it was close. He glanced around and realized that his choices for accommodations were beyond slim. There was a shoddy motel down the way that had probably been built in the early twentieth century and had no insulation against weather or insects. He could stay at his grandmother’s house, though he pictured it as a sad little wood cabin, stuffed with trinkets and knickknacks by a hoarder who never threw anything out. Or he could get this over with, drive back to Billings, and stay in a halfway decent hotel that at least had a sorry but free continental breakfast.
He could be back in New York by tomorrow evening.
Gritting his teeth, he parked in the midst of about fifteen cars, several as ancient as the town looked and more in the same state of disrepair. He scoffed at the old Bronco parked right in front of the café. Despite being a northern town, it seemed to Easton like there were more rednecks here than at a barn raising in Texas on a Sunday after church.
He stood from the car and straightened his tie, then grabbed his suit jacket to pull on. It was bright and sunny here, and he’d been sorely mistaken to equate sunshine with warmth. He should have known better. What part of Montana would be above freezing three days before Christmas? He thought of his beach house in California to try to warm his bones, but it did no good with the brisk wind blowing from the north.
He picked up his step, taking out his cell phone and checking his signal as he hurried to the café. “Hallelujah,” he mumbled, seeing three of his four bars. At least he wasn’t completely cut off from civilization. He couldn’t handle the idea of losing business because he’d been called out here for the reading of his estranged grandmother’s will.
There were a dozen people in the diner, and he couldn’t tell if they were just patrons or if they were all there for the reading. Either way, they stared at him as if he came from outer space. Apparently, a gathering like this didn’t warrant dressing up, and these people were all dressed casually, which only made his suit seem even more out of place.
One woman stood out—an American Indian woman so pregnant Easton thought her water might break if she was startled at all. But she wore a nice dress, and he had to assume she was the attorney.
He looked around for the sheriff, imagining an older, heavyset man with jowls and a surly disposition. When his eyes landed on the badge and found it was attached to a thin, fit man who couldn’t be much older than Easton himself, it came as a shock. The guy seemed to be grieving, and Easton sighed. Apparently, the Sheriff Garrett Woodward that the legal assistant had told him to contact was a sentimental pushover.
And he seemed awfully snuggly with the pregnant attorney.
As he squared his shoulders and approached the sheriff, Easton decided he was going to head back to Billings. He couldn’t stay in this tiny little town one minute longer than he had to.
He ignored the eyes on him, the mutterings around him. He didn’t give a damn what these sheltered people thought of him. “You’re Sheriff Woodward?” he asked by way of greeting.
The guy nodded once, his expression somber and wary at the same time. Easton noted intelligence behind those eyes. At least one of the authorities here was just as much brain as brawn. “Garrett Woodward. This is my wife, Shakota,” he said, motioning to the pregnant woman.
So, they were married. How quaint. And parenthood was imminent for them.
He held out his hand to introduce himself, but a pretty little bleach blonde woman in tight jeans and a low cut blouse came hustling forward. “I’m sorry, sir, the diner’s not open to the public today. I wish I could seat you, but I’d be more than happy to offer you a cup of coffee to go with a cupcake to get you through to the next stop.”
Easton was amused. She thought he’d come in here to eat at this grease pit. He couldn’t imagine putting something so vile into his stomach, and he had trouble reconciling his mother, the vegan, having a mother that owned a place known for southern homestyle cooking.
“I’m not here to eat.” He turned back to the sheriff, though he kept her in the corner of his eye. She would have been absolutely gorgeous with the right makeup and a better sense of style. As it was, she was intriguing, and he couldn’t completely ignore her. Still, he needed to speak to the sheriff, the only authority figure around. “I’m Easton McLendon. Daisy Brooks was my grandmother.”
He heard the sharp intake of breath to his left and he turned back to the blonde. Why was she surprised? He supposed he’d get answers later. Now, he pasted on a practiced smile he didn’t feel and shook the sheriff’s hand. “Welcome to Courage,” his wife said with a kind tone.
The sheriff gestured to the side with his head. “Could I have a word with you?”
Shrugging, Easton followed him to a quiet, lonely corner of the space. In a low tone that he suspected was meant to keep everyone else’s ears from listening in, Woodward said, “You’ll have to excuse the nosy onlookers. We don’t get a lot of outsiders here.
Most everyone is passing through to somewhere else. Our community is very close and a little too interested in other people’s business.”
“It’s fine. Living in New York has its perks. I’m used to ignoring other people.” It sounded rude, but it was true. Easton didn’t have time for anyone who wasn’t useful to him in some way. “I’m not going to hang around for very long. I’m here for the reading of the will and whatever legal stuff I have to deal with. Once that’s taken care of, I’m on the first plane out of Billings.”
* * *
Leah watched Easton McLendon walk to the back of the café with Garrett. He didn’t fit with the legacy Ms. Daisy left behind, but then, he wasn’t from Courage. Daisy’s daughter had moved away before she’d married, and Leah had only seen her once or twice since.
From head to toe, Easton was gorgeous, with an athletic build beneath his tailored suit, and he stood just over six feet tall. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled, and the angles of his cheeks were accented by a bit of a shadow. He hadn’t taken the time to shave before coming in, and it was the only thing that took away from the sleek city boy image he portrayed.
But he was cocky, and his attitude made her want to punch him in the nose in the hopes of breaking it and damaging that perfect appearance. He acted like he was better than everyone who had gathered to mourn the loss of his grandmother, pay their respects, and celebrate her life. She doubted he even cared to stick around for the funeral, which was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.
She hated that he was here in the first place. “You know, if Ms. Daisy left him anything, he could have picked it up another time, or I could have shipped it to him,” she muttered to Shakota.
“Maybe he’s not so bad,” Shakota offered weakly. It was obvious she didn’t believe it herself. The look on her face spoke volumes. She was disgusted by him, and Leah trusted Shakota’s intuition about people more than her own. “Look, he’s here, so let’s just try to be pleasant and give him a chance. Stay calm, Leah.”
With a nod, Leah eyed him carefully. Under other circumstances, she’d find him irresistibly attractive. Now, though, she wrinkled her nose. He didn’t care about Ms. Daisy. He was here to see what sort of profit he could make from the trip. Leah was glad she’d talked to her boss and long time friend a few months back about the café. Maybe she couldn’t do anything about the money Ms. Daisy had put away, but she knew this diner wouldn’t go anywhere. It was hers, and Leah would continue in the same tradition that Ms. Daisy and her late husband had intended—comfortable, inviting, and inexpensive.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “I suppose I should apologize and introduce myself.”
Shakota snorted. “Let him apologize for his rudeness first. And I doubt that’s going to happen until Bertram has his say. People are getting antsy, and I’m starving.”
“That I can fix.” She hustled back to the kitchen, whipped up some toast, and poured a cup of orange juice, and took it to Shakota, practically forcing her to sit down. “Don’t tell me you’re okay. You’ve been on your feet since you got here. Your lower back has to be aching, and your ankles are probably twice their normal size.”
Taking a seat at a nearby table, Shakota tore into the toast and shrugged. “It’s the story of my life these days. Besides, if I keep standing, maybe I’ll put enough pressure on the kiddo to make him want to come out. I’d be free of this extra weight, and Garrett would be thrilled to have won his stupid bet.”
Leah laughed softly. Despite the heaviness of the situation, it was nice to feel a bit of mirth, and she wasn’t going to balk at a chance to find a little humor in life. “Hang in there. Worst case scenario, you’re two weeks out, and you have to get through Christmas and New Year’s with your care package.” She sighed. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and she’d intended to spend the evening and the following morning with Ms. Daisy. Neither of them had other family around and they’d agreed to keep each other company.
Her heart ached with the loss of her good friend and the woman she’d adopted as family. But even more, Leah mourned for herself and the newfound loneliness that was all consuming. She’d been alone before, but she hadn’t been lonely. She’d bonded with Daisy Brooks, and it had kept her going. Maybe she still had her friends, but they were different. There was no one she was as close to as she had been to Daisy, and she had to resign herself to spending the biggest holiday of the year alone with Zipper.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s gather and quiet down now. We’ve got business to tend,” Bertram called out. The diner died down, and Leah glared at Daisy’s grandson as he and Garrett came back from whatever little chat they were having. Garrett pulled a chair up next to his wife and rubbed her belly. Leah grimaced, jealous of their closeness.
Easton stood a few feet away from her, and Leah wanted to cross the room to put as much distance between them as possible. Instead, she locked down her footing and clasped her hands behind her back. She wouldn’t stand down and let him intimidate her. She was going to be strong, and when Bertram read Daisy’s wish that her café went to Leah, she would smile in satisfaction.
“Let me start by saying that losing Daisy Brooks so suddenly couldn’t have come as a bigger shock, and her loss feels like an earthquake that upsets everyone’s life and surroundings. She’ll be sorely missed by more people than she probably knows because she touched all of our lives in a special way.
“Now, getting down to business, I have the last will and testament of one Ms. Daisy Ellen Brooks. Bear with me because Daisy and I discussed recently the need to update her will, but we never quite got around to it. She’d just seen the doc and gotten a fairly clean bill of health, save for her arthritis, so she put off our meeting. With that being said, this will is nearly ten years old. The last changes were made shortly after the death of her daughter.”
Chapter 4
Leah frowned. She had no idea the information was so old. Not that it mattered, though. All the information should be valid. It just sounded peculiar to her that the lawyer made such a big deal of it.
Bertram continued, “We’ll start with the funeral arrangements. Daisy Brooks has a plot next to her husband at Treasure County Cemetery and insists upon being buried there. She does not want her body carried elsewhere. She purchased her casket right after her husband passed, a matching one to his, and it has been stored in a sealed metal box in her storage room outside the house since.”
He had to stop, his emotions getting the best of him for a moment, and Leah’s eyes misted, too. But from the corner of her eyes, she could see that Easton’s expression lacked any sign of emotion, with the exception of a hint of impatience. What a selfish man.
When he recovered, the attorney said, “Now, I’ll read the directives from the will regarding who is to receive the assets as per Ms. Daisy Brooks’ wishes.” He cleared his throat and read on. “‘To the public library, I leave my collection of books, movies, and music, which may be added to their own for borrowing or sold for funding that is to be used for other new material. To each of the Treasure County Sheriff’s Department and the Treasure County Search & Rescue Unit, I leave fifteen thousand dollars to assist with funding of any efforts or materials needed by the offices.
“To each of the owners of existing businesses in downtown Courage at the time of my passing, I leave ten thousand dollars for repairs, upgrades, remodeling, expansions, or other improvements upon their business, at their discretion.’”
Leah waited anxiously as Bertram detailed all of this, as well as donations to the medical facility, the Treasure County schools, and a scholarship fund for high school graduates aspiring to start a business that would send them to a four-year college to obtain a degree in business management. It was amazing what the woman had planned, the generosity in her heart, and Leah couldn’t keep the tears from falling, even as she celebrated the consternation growing on Easton’s face. His chin jutted, and his jaw muscle twitched with it.
“‘My house and property I leave to my nearest livin
g relative, Easton McLendon. My grandson may not sell it but may choose to live in it, rent it to travelers, or donate it to the state for purposes such as use for a safe house, etc. Any remaining monetary assets shall be left to Leah Evans, who manages my café.’” Leah gasped. She hadn’t expected money, but she could think of several things that small chunk would help her with. She could use it to start her business, expand the café like Ms. Daisy had forever dreamed of doing. It was incredible.
“‘The Courage Café, which was a special project embarked upon in tandem with my late husband, is dear to my heart, and I can think of only one person to whom I should leave it.’” Bertram had her full attention again, and she prepared to celebrate. “‘Therefore, I leave Courage Café in the hands of my grandson, Easton McLendon.’”
Leah instantly deflated. She stared at Bertram with her jaw slack for several minutes, as he detailed the actions and paperwork required to validate the information and for trustees to obtain their portion of the assets. When he finished, she slowly pulled her eyes away and glared at Easton. She expected a satisfied expression, but she was surprised to see his arms crossed and his brow heavy with silent anger.
If he didn’t want the café, she would gladly take it from him.
Bertram folded the papers and tucked them back into an envelope in his pocket. “That’s everything. Let me tell you, though, it’s going to take some time to get the papers drawn up for all these different things. I’ll be in touch with each of you as I get to your particular paperwork. It would be helpful if all of you with businesses here could bring me the ownership paperwork and bank information so I can set up a direct transfer to your account once I have a signature.”
Leah wanted to cry. She would rather have the diner than the money, but she hadn’t been given that option. Of course, she could probably open up a really nice bakery with what Daisy had left her, but she was worried. Easton didn’t seem happy at all, and Leah wouldn’t be surprised if he just decided to shut the place down. That would put several people out of a job, leave Courage without a café, and kill an icon that had been the center of an era in this town.
Courage To Fall (Cowboys of Courage 3) Page 2