by Linda Warren
Blanche twisted her hands again. “Because…that’s the only way anyone noticed I was here.”
The emotion in Blanche’s voice startled Cord, and he was at a loss for words.
“You horrible, horrible woman.” Edie broke in, unable to stay quiet any longer. She glanced at Cord. “Is it true? There’s another will? Pa left me half the ranch?”
Cord handed her the will.
“Oh God. Oh God,” she said, and started to cry. “I thought he’d forgotten about me. But he didn’t. He knew how much this ranch meant to me. Oh God, I can’t believe it.” She sank unsteadily into a chair and stared at Blanche. A sly smile tugged at her lips. “Well, the tables have turned. And you’re right, Blanche. I want you out of here as soon as possible.”
Blanche got to her feet. “Gloat all you want, Edie,” she said. “I could’ve kicked your ass out of here when Claybourne died, but I respected his wishes. I gave you just as much money as my boys, and I put up with your holier than thou attitude not out of the kindness of my heart, but because I knew Claybourne wanted it that way. All these years you’ve alluded to the men in my life. Well, after I married Claybourne, I was faithful to him, and there hasn’t been anyone since his death. Hell, I not only gave him a son, I gave him three. So believe all the bad things you want. You’ve always looked at me as the enemy, as someone who took your place with your father. You never looked at anything from my point of view. I was young and a stranger in your house. I knew I had to be strong to survive. I did a terrible thing with the will, and I’m not apologizing for it.” She took a breath and continued. “You’ve taken far more from me than I’ve ever taken from you. So gloat if it makes you feel better.”
“What do you mean, I took from you? I never took a thing!”
“You took my babies,” Blanche said quietly.
“Because you didn’t want them.”
“I wanted my babies, but I just never knew how…” Blanche blinked back a tear and Becca could see she was fighting not to cry, still struggling not to show any emotion. “Christmases were the worst. Claybourne just assumed I didn’t want to be part of the festivities. I always watched you boys open your gifts from the hallway.” She looked at Cord. “I gave you your first saddle—the one with the silver on it. I had a hell of a time dragging it into the house. Claybourne thought Edie bought it, and Edie thought Claybourne bought it. One never questioned the other. I also bought Clay and Colton their first computers. There were always presents from me under the tree, but no one ever knew and I—” Her voice cracked and she shook her head.
She’d bought him the saddle; that was all Cord could think. He remembered how excited he’d been when he saw it. He’d loved that saddle. He’d used it until he got too big for it, and Nicki used it now. Blanche bought the saddle for him. He’d never even dreamed his mother thought about him. His emotions were overwhelmed by so many new feelings.
“I’ll pack my things and get out of here,” Blanche added in a rush.
“No one’s going anywhere,” Cord said, and Becca couldn’t have loved him more than at that moment.
“Sit down, Blanche,” he added. “We have to sort this out.” He looked at Edie. “I know how you feel and I also know you’re not hard-hearted. Blanche has a lot of explaining to do and we’re both going to listen.” He turned back to Blanche. “How did you get Pa’s lawyer to keep the second will a secret?”
Blanche moved uncomfortably. “After Floyd Dawson drew up the will, his job was done. Claybourne didn’t ask him to keep it or to see that his wishes were carried out. Then Claybourne put the original in the safe, but he didn’t destroy the old one. I didn’t know what I was going to do when your father passed away—and then I saw both wills. Claybourne and I had made a deal, and I decided to stick to our agreement. It wasn’t something I consciously planned. I was desperate and I did it before I could really think about it. I was home free until that stupid Anette started snooping around.”
Cord closed his eyes briefly. “At this point, Blanche, it would be in your best interests to make an effort to stay on my good side. Snide remarks about Anette aren’t accomplishing that.”
“I want her out of here, Cord,” Edie said, her voice hard.
“Let me handle this, please,” he said to Edie. Then he addressed Blanche. “So Dawson knew about the second will and said nothing.”
“It’s not his job to enforce it.”
“Morally, ethically, it’s his job! Hell.” He shoved a hand through his hair.
“She needs to be in jail,” Edie said. “She’s committed a crime. I know she has.”
“Edie,” Cord said sharply, his eyes never leaving Blanche. “We made this easy for you, didn’t we, Blanche?”
“Yes. After the funeral, Clay and Colton were eager to get back to their jobs. They looked at the will and said to let them know when I’d taken care of everything.” Blanche let out a long breath. “And you were so broken up over Claybourne’s death, you didn’t want to talk about wills or anything else. You let me handle all the details.”
“Do you know why that was?”
Blanche shook her head.
“Because we trusted you,” Cord said. “I trusted you not to do something like this to me.”
Blanche bit her lip, and Cord could see she was wrestling with her conscience. He was glad to learn she had one.
“We all knew about the first will,” he went on. “We’d heard the story all our lives. And we also knew how much Pa loved you. It never crossed our minds that he’d change his will.”
Blanche pushed back her hair nervously. “He never believed I loved him. He thought someone so young couldn’t love a man his age. I didn’t love him at first, but I grew to love him more than I’d ever thought I could. I wouldn’t have stayed here, otherwise.”
“Ha,” Edie interjected.
Cord ignored Edie, trying to take in everything he was hearing. This Blanche was throwing him. This Blanche had feelings. He was angry with her, yet he found he couldn’t maintain that anger. Still, through all the tumultuous emotion, he had to be clear on one thing.
“I’m not sure what to believe right now, but I want you to tell me the truth about Anette.”
Blanche gave him a puzzled frown. “What about her?”
“The letter. Did you have anything to do with it?”
“No! I wouldn’t lie to you now. Whoever Anette wrote that letter to, it wasn’t me.”
Cord was unsure and needed more detail, more corroboration. “You’re the one who found her. What made you go to her room?”
“When I got in that day, Della and Edie had Nicki in the kitchen and Nicki was crying, wanting her mother. I asked where Anette was, and Edie said she’d been in her room most of the day. I decided the lazy bi—” She paused and changed her tone. “I decided she wasn’t getting away with that. She was gonna take care of her kid. I found her on the floor with the whiskey bottles and the pills. I immediately called you, and you rushed her to the hospital. That’s all I know. I never realized she drank so much.”
“Maybe because you made her life a living hell,” Cord snapped.
“She wasn’t the saint you thought she was,” Blanche shot back. “What do you think she did when she found the will? Did she tell you? No. She held it over my head, threatening to tell you, and she enjoyed every minute of it. Finally I told her to go ahead—that would put an end to her dream of leaving. She knew I was right and she didn’t have to write me a letter to tell me that. Whatever we had to say to each other, we said face-to-face.”
Cord sighed tiredly. “Where did the liquor come from?”
Blanche blinked. “What?”
“The liquor that was in our room is not the kind that’s kept in this house. Where did it come from?”
“How would I know? She did have the ability to buy things. Wait a minute—” Blanche’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I bought her the liquor?”
“I’m not saying anything. I just want answers.”
&n
bsp; “Well, I don’t have them.”
Silence. Cord stared at his mother and tried to piece everything together, but nothing was fitting, nothing made sense. He sighed again. Before he did anything else, he had to sort out the will.
“Edie and I have to talk,” he finally said. “And I have to call Clay and Colton. Everyone has to know the truth, and we have to deal with it.”
“Fine,” Blanche said. She turned and left the room. Becca followed her.
BECCA FOUND HER SITTING on her bed, twisting the rings on her fingers, a broken expression on her face.
Blanche glanced up as Becca stepped into the room. “If you’ve come to add your opinion, sugar, you’d better hurry because I’m not gonna be around much longer.”
“You don’t know Cord very well if you think he’d make you leave,” Becca said. Blanche had done a terrible thing, but Becca understood her motive and she knew Cord did, too. Her whole life, Blanche had been fighting to survive, and keeping the will a secret was just another instance of that.
“Yeah, well, what I know about my sons could be stored in a thimble.”
“Then stop trying to alienate yourself from them.”
Blanche gave her a puzzled look. “What are you doing here, sugar?”
“I’m not really sure. I’m so angry at what you’ve done to Cord. He’s suffered so much over Anette’s death and he doesn’t need this. But somehow…” Becca paused, unsure of her next words. “Somehow I understand why you did it.”
“Oh, please.” Blanche laughed scornfully.
Becca let that pass. “Just tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“Do you know anything about Anette’s death?”
“I told Cord I don’t, and I’m not lying about that.”
For some reason Becca believed her. She’d had a lot of doubts about Blanche and she wanted to resolve them. “Ever since I’ve been here you’ve been trying to get me to leave. You’ve even made insinuations about something happening to me. Why?”
Blanche stared at her rings, then raised her head, her eyes holding Becca’s. “Cord and I have had our disagreements, but he’s the only son I have who even knows I’m alive. As long as I had control, I could keep him here. But the moment I saw you together, I knew you had a different kind of power over him. A kind Anette never had. You could take him away from here—away from me. He didn’t deserve another city woman screwing up his life. I wanted to protect my son from any more pain.”
Becca had already guessed most of this, but she was relieved to hear Blanche admit it.
“Yet you’ve hurt him.” Becca couldn’t help saying it.
“Yeah.” Blanche flipped back her hair. “That proves what a good mother I am, doesn’t it?” She spoke in a careless tone, but her attempt at indifference didn’t fool Becca.
“Three little words could solve all your problems.”
“And what would those be?”
“I love you.”
Becca expected a comeback, but none came. The broken look returned to Blanche’s face, and she seemed to be struggling for composure.
“Let your sons know you love them,” Becca urged. “Love can work miracles.”
When Blanche didn’t respond, Becca walked out. She was sympathetic—surprisingly so—to the older woman, but her main concern was Cord and what he was going through. How would he handle this? Whatever he decided, she knew she’d be there for him—no matter what.
CORD SAT FACING HIS SISTER, searching for the right words. Before he could find them, Edie spoke.
“I want her gone.”
“I know you do, but please understand that she’s my mother.” Cord didn’t know why he was pleading Blanche’s case, but that biological bond was there and he couldn’t ignore it.
“She was never a mother.”
“Maybe because she was never given the chance or maybe because she didn’t know how.” He rubbed his hands together. “Did she really give me the saddle?”
Edie shrugged. “I didn’t buy it. Like she said, I assumed Pa did. I suppose she could have.”
He gripped his hands tightly together. “I think we need some time to cope with all of this.”
The phone rang, and Cord knew Della was outside with Nicki.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I’d better get that.” Edie seemed lost in her own thoughts, so he stood up and went to the kitchen to answer it.
“Triple Creek Ranch.”
“Cord, this is Sheriff Reyes.”
Cord quickly collected his thoughts. “Hi, Sheriff. Found out anything yet?”
“Yeah, we located where Bates is living. His girlfriend said he was out taking care of business, although she couldn’t give us any details. We’re still watching the place, but I wanted you to be aware of what’s happening and to be on the lookout for him. He might show up again, because I have a feeling the business he’s talking about is you. All my sources say he really has a grudge against you.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. Don’t worry, he’s not getting near me or my family.”
“Give me a call if you even spot him.”
“I will.”
Cord hung up and walked out onto the patio. He sat down, burying his face in his hands. The world seemed to be crashing in on him. Last night his life had seemed full of potential; his future had promised happiness. He had found something so precious in Becca. But now he’d discovered that his mother had betrayed him and Bates was out to get him. He didn’t know how much more he could take, especially if Becca was hurt in the process. He’d do anything to keep her safe, and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight until Bates was caught.
He surveyed the landscape, the ranch. He had put his heart and soul into this place and now it was his—and Edie’s, too. In the end, that was what Pa had wanted. Somehow, that didn’t make him feel better. How could his mother do this to him? And Anette? He didn’t understand her part in this. She knew how much he loved the ranch. Why wouldn’t she tell him what she’d learned? Was Blanche’s accusation true—that Anette was trying to manipulate him into leaving Triple Creek?
The unanswered questions were tearing him apart.
BECCA HURRIED INTO THE DEN looking for Cord, and found Edie silently crying. Becca’s heart went out to her. Two stubborn women and both wanting the same thing—to be loved. She knelt by Edie’s chair and hugged her.
“He really loved me.” Edie choked out the words. “I thought he’d forgotten about me, but he loved me.” Edie clutched the will in her hand, so Becca knew what she was talking about.
“Of course he loved you. You were his daughter,” Becca told her softly.
“After he brought her here, things changed. I became invisible to Pa and I hated her.”
“Hate is a very destructive word.”
“It’s how I feel, especially after what she’s done to Cord.”
“But Cord will forgive her,” Becca said confidently.
Edie wiped her eyes. “You seem sure of that.”
“I am.” She placed her hand over her heart. “Because I know him in here. He’ll never be able to turn his back on his mother.”
“She’s an awful person,” Edie muttered.
“Have you ever given yourself a chance to get to know her?”
“No, and I don’t want to.”
“Let go of the bitterness, Edie. Don’t be the one to tear this family apart.”
Edie stared ahead with a defiant expression, and Becca got up and left her with her memories. The Prescott family was hurting, and try as she might, she couldn’t bring them together. Maybe she was trying too hard. She had to let it happen naturally; she couldn’t force them to love one another.
She finally found Cord on the patio. He was staring off into space with a shattered look on his face. His sorrow and confusion wrenched her heart, and she opened the door and went outside to him. When she slid into his lap, his arms gripped her tightly.
“How could she do this?” he whispered.
“For lov
e,” she murmured, tangling her fingers in the hair that curled into his collar.
“What?”
“Power and control is love to Blanche. Somehow, by having control, she thought she could keep her boys coming back here and she’d be able to keep you under her thumb. Blanche hasn’t had much love in her life, and she did everything she could to hang on to the little she had. She used devious methods, but she was desperate.”
“Don’t ask me to forgive and forget,” he said stubbornly.
“That’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”
“Becca…”
“When I found out that Emily was really my mother, I was so angry and hurt. I lashed out at everything and everyone around me. I wanted to hurt Emily and Rose like they’d hurt me, but when I saw the pain in Emily’s eyes and saw what my behavior was doing to her, I realized that bitterness was an emotion that could destroy us all—if I let it. I didn’t want that. I loved Emily and Rose and knew they were fighting just as fierce a battle as I was. Once we forgave each other, everything else fell into place.”
He stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but this is different.”
“No, it isn’t,” she insisted. “Blanche is your mother, and no matter how angry you are, you can’t change that.”
“No, no, I can’t,” he muttered. “I still can’t believe she bought me that saddle. I was with Pa when I saw it in the store. I said I wanted it, and he said I was too young for a saddle like that. I’d have to wait until I got older. Then, there it was on Christmas morning. A gift from Santa.”
“So he must’ve told Blanche about the saddle,” she mused. “And he had to have known she bought it.”
“I suppose.”
“He probably knew her better than anyone—knew how afraid she was to show her feelings.”
“She wasn’t afraid of Pa. I’ve seen her get in his face when she was displeased with something.”
“Like what?” she asked. She could imagine Blanche standing up to almost everyone, but she couldn’t see her standing up to Claybourne Prescott.