Still... there was something about reading personal letters belonging to someone else that felt wrong.
I didn’t want to do this. But it was necessary. I had to go through this stuff, see what was worth keeping and what should be tossed. Clay had told me everything had been scorched beyond saving. Everything except the safe and what was in it. The safe had been fireproof. Although the outside was covered in ash, the stack of papers inside was perfectly preserved.
This was all I had. All that had been spared. I hoped Aunt Sandee had thought to put some photos and other mementos in there for safekeeping.
I started with the biggest envelope. It wasn’t thick, just large. I flipped up the flap and slid the papers out. They were some kind of legal document, printed on an attorney’s letterhead but not James Hardin’s.
My eye caught on the first line: My Last Will and Testament.
Wait? There was another will?
I flipped to the last page to see when it had been dated. August, 2001. That was several years before the final one. Okay. She’d changed it. Interesting. I turned back to the beginning, wondering what was different.
Roughly fifteen minutes later I sat there, stunned, the old will scattered on the floor. Turned out a lot had changed. This will was nothing like the later version. There was no residency requirement for me to earn my inheritance. And my share was substantial. But the majority of the property, including the ranch itself, had been left to Clay.
Why Clay?
And why had she changed it?
Hoping to find a copy of the more recent will, I sifted through the safe’s contents until I found a second large envelope. Sure enough, it was the current will. I pulled it out and read it front-to-back. One thing struck me, something I hadn’t noticed before because I’d been too focused on the terms of my inheritance.
The new will was dated two days before my aunt’s death. Two. Days.
What had made her decide to change it? Clay had to know something. I packed both copies back into their envelopes and headed to the barn, where Clay was working.
Immediately his gaze caught mine as I stepped into the cool, shaded interior. “The horses are all in their makeshift stalls. It isn’t ideal, but it’ll be good enough until we can get the rest of the barn rebuilt.” He glanced at the envelopes in my hands. “What’s that?”
“The wills. There were copies in the safe.”
He nodded. “Wills.”
“Yes.” I lifted the earlier document. “My aunt made some big changes. Right before she died. Do you know why?”
He nodded again.
“Will you tell me?”
He reached his hand out, asking for mine. I accepted, allowing him to lead me outside the barn. We sat on a stack of straw bales waiting to be stored. “Sandee came to me just after you left the last time you’d visited and told me she’d written me into her will, giving me this property and some money to keep it going. I asked her why she didn’t leave it to you, and she said it was because you weren’t happy here and wouldn’t want the responsibility of a failing ranch. She had always treated me well, knew about my struggles with my father, and my hopes to someday have a ranch of my own and she saw it as her chance to make someone’s dreams come true.”
I could totally see her wanting to help Clay. That was my aunt Sandee. Always offering a hand up to anyone who needed it. “Did she really think I hated it here?”
Clay arched a brow. “You didn’t hate it?”
“Okay, maybe I did hate some parts. I was young. And I wasn’t used to the hard work. I mean, it is hard work. I wanted to do what all my friends were during summer vacation. Hang out. Spend all day at the beach. Go to Cedar Point and ride roller coasters until I threw up. I didn’t want to spend all twelve weeks out here, working.”
He acknowledged my honest answer with a nod. “Later, after I’d successfully turned my father’s ranch around, she hired me to help her with the Silver Sage. I could see she was getting weaker. After watching my father die, I recognized the signs. By then I’d already reached my dream. I couldn’t stomach the thought of taking this property, not if there was a chance you might want it. So I asked her to change the will. At first she refused, saying there was no chance you would want to make Dawson your home. But eventually she agreed and the new will was drafted, with that caveat, allowing you to walk away if you wanted.”
“So it was you? Your idea?”
“Do you hate me now?” He chuckled nervously. “Or should I say do you hate me again?”
“No.” I picked up his hand and placed it in my lap, weaving my fingers between his. “I’ve hated you long enough.” Our gazes met and a wave of emotion crashed through me. “Besides, why should I hate you? It’s because of you that I’m here now. In this wonderful town.” I swung an arm, like one of those models on the old game shows my aunt used to watch. “Living the dream.”
Clay’s scowl was totally adorable. “You’re teasing.”
“Maybe a little. Dawson isn’t exactly my dream town.”
“I doubt it’s anyone’s dream town.” He cupped my chin and searched my eyes. “But anywhere you are is my dream town.”
My heart swelled so big it almost cracked my ribs. Clay’s love for me was so plain in his eyes. Anyone would see it. From a mile away.
How could I have been so blind?
All this time Clay had been helping me. Always thinking of me, coming to my defense, protecting me, and looking for a way to solve my problems. What a fool I’d been, misreading any of his actions, assuming the worst and treating him so badly.
“I’m sorry,” I confessed. “When I first got here, I treated you horribly.”
His thumb grazed my lower lip. “I wasn’t an angel either. We were both hurt and taking out our pain on each other.”
“It’s a wonder we got past that,” I whispered on a shudder. Little currents of electricity were buzzing through me, igniting mini-blazes everywhere.
No man had ever made me feel this way. He didn’t just care about me. He breathed every breath for me. He didn’t just think about me. His every thought was for me. I was the luckiest girl in the world. And if it took me my entire life, I would let him know how much I appreciated him.
“It is. A miracle. Which is why...” He slipped off the straw bale, settling on one knee. His gaze locked on mine and all I could do was stare into those beautiful eyes and cry. “I can’t live another day without knowing you are mine. Mine to love. To protect. To cherish. Marry me.”
I couldn’t see him; my eyes were so full of tears. I blinked, fat droplets plopping on my legs. Clay’s love had been steadfast through everything. All my doubts and fears and anger. Was there any reason to think he would stop loving me? Absolutely not. He put me first. Always. Before himself. What more could I ask of any man? “Yes,” I said. “I would be proud to be your wife. Yours. Forever.”
He gave a loud whoop, leapt to his feet and scooped me into his arms, smashing his mouth on mine.
Immediately the world started spinning. Was that because of the kiss? Or was he twirling us around in a circle? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I knew was that I loved Clay Walker and he loved me. And now that he’d taught me how to trust, how to love, nothing would get between us again.
I must have done something right in a previous life. Because I’d somehow earned the love of the most wonderful, loyal, loving man on earth. And I knew he would do anything for me.
He would move mountains. He would take a bullet. He would dive into an inferno.
He would even run a ranch that was manned by a bunch of giggling, cellphone toting, selfie-snapping teenage girls who couldn’t tell the difference between a cow and a sow.
Now, that was true love.
The End
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Jerk: A Bad Boy Romance Page 20
