by Mary Leo
“Good. Good. We look forward to it,” Mr. Lando said. “Well, we’re on our way to the diner for lunch. Would you like to join us?”
RuthieAnn couldn’t think of a worse way to spend an hour. Not that the Landos weren’t charming people. It was more that RuthieAnn had no intention of reminiscing about Wild Creek.
“Thanks, but I have an appointment. Lovely seeing you again,” she told them then began walking towards the law office again.
She didn’t take two steps when she met up with Jessie Smith, a seventy-something cowboy who shared his condolences, then three feet after that, she met up with Gracie Hopkins, Judy Doyle, and Mary Lou Kowalski, all women she’d known through her mom . . . women who had to stop and give her a hug and express their condolences.
By the time RuthieAnn walked into Avery Templeton’s front office, she felt emotionally drained and didn’t know if she could physically withstand any bad news. For all she knew, her dad owed back taxes on the land or there was some kind of lien on it and the only thing she could do was sign it over to the bank.
At this point, RuthieAnn would welcome it. Then she wouldn’t have to ever see that house or this town again, or Chase for that matter.
The office was decorated in dark woods and tan walls. An older woman, with bright red hair that dusted her shoulders, sat behind the front desk answering phone calls and typing. She looked up when RuthieAnn walked in.
“RuthieAnn Dolan?” she asked, obviously expecting her.
“Yes. Sorry if I’m a little late,” RuthieAnn said, as she looked around the comfortable looking area for a seat she could take. The room was devoid of people. However, a super-sized fish tank lit up the room with exotic colorful creatures that RuthieAnn was suddenly drawn to. She hoped that watching the fish swirl through the water might calm her nerves.
“She’ll be right out,” the woman said and before RuthieAnn could sit down, a much younger woman walked out of an open doorway.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” the red-haired woman coming towards her said. She was in her late twenties or early thirties, and wore a light gray suit with a red blouse under the open jacket. “Chase Cooper is already here.”
RuthieAnn’s stomach did an immediate flip, as if the mere mention of his name had an effect on her. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“What? I mean, I didn’t know . . .”
As if RuthieAnn wasn’t already anxious about this meeting, now Chase was there to make it even more intense.
“You’re both in your dad’s will, along with your brother Kevin. I spoke to your brother this morning, and he’ll be stopping in after the memorial to pick up his copy. Which is this weekend, I believe?”
RuthieAnn was too stunned to speak, so she merely nodded.
“Good, then if you’ll take a seat in my office, we can get started. Can I get you something to drink? My mom loves to use her espresso machine if you’d like one.”
“Thanks,” RuthieAnn said. “Just some water.”
“I’ll bring it in,” Avery’s mom said.
Chase stood as RuthieAnn walked into the large office. She threw him a quick smile, then took the chair next to him directly in front of Avery Templeton’s desk.
Avery handed each of them several pages of what had to be her dad’s will. Holding the papers gave RuthieAnn a shiver, as if her dad had kissed her cheek. A memory shot through her of her dad tucking her into bed, kissing her cheek and running his rough hand over her forehead to push her hair back off her face. She felt safe. She felt love. A gentle touch. A warm kiss. She was young, maybe four or five, and she loved her daddy.
RuthieAnn touched her cheek, feeling flushed.
“Everything okay?” Chase asked, gazing over at her.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Fine. Just a little tired.”
But the damage had already been done. RuthieAnn had flashed on a good memory of her dad, a memory she had pushed so deep into her subconscious that she had stomped out the emotions to go with it.
And yet there they were, bubbling up inside her, reminding her of a better time, a tender moment.
A completely different man than the one she’d argued with at the hospital only days before. That was the dad she knew, the dad she had run away from, the man she hated. This other dad had died off years ago, if he ever really existed at all.
“I’ll spare you both all the legal jargon and try to break down what he wanted. First,” she stopped to slide a small key across her desk to RuthieAnn. That was when RuthieAnn noticed the rather large blush-colored diamond on her left finger, in a rose setting. Apparently, Avery Templeton was engaged to Chase’s brother Reese, but Chase had never mentioned it. The ring was gorgeous, and for a moment RuthieAnn envied her.
Then she came to her senses, knowing that a ring and a husband weren’t her priorities at the moment. Jayden was, and until he was grown, she had no time for such silly daydreams.
“This is a key to his safety deposit box at First National Bank here in town. All the contents belong to both RuthieAnn and her brother Kevin to be divided up the way they see fit.”
RuthieAnn took the key and slipped it into her change purse.
“I have another key,” RuthieAnn told her, “a key that my dad gave me at the hospital. Do you know what that’s for?”
“No, but he mentioned it and told me that he left a letter addressed to you inside the box at the bank,” Avery said. “I’m assuming the contents of the letter will tell you what that key is for.”
“Thanks,” RuthieAnn said, still feeling a little dazed over how efficient and detailed her dad had left things. Looking at the chaos of his house, she figured that his affairs were in the same state. This was a complete and total surprise.
“There’s a bank account with both your name and your brother’s name on it. I’m assuming you had no knowledge of this account, so that’s why I’m telling you. That said, I was not made aware of the amount. The account is also at First National. Then there’s the matter of the house and the original three acres that it sits on. That goes to RuthieAnn alone. This house and land originally belonged to your mom, who always intended for you to have it, but she didn’t have a will when she passed, so everything automatically went to your dad.”
“But didn’t they divorce?” RuthieAnn wanted to know. She thought for sure they had.
“Not legally, no. They may have stopped living together, and from what I could tell they started divorce proceedings, but they never officially filed.”
“All that time . . . and she left me the house? It’s uninhabitable. It needs to be condemned.”
“It’s yours to do whatever you want with it,” Avery told her.
“The barn, the corrals, the outbuildings and the five acres that surround it, including all mineral rights, go to Chase Cooper.”
“I can’t imagine what he was thinking. That will must have been written years ago. I don’t need . . . well, can I just give my share to RuthieAnn and her brother?”
“The will was written about three months ago, and to my knowledge, this is his only will.”
“But why would he leave me anything when he knew my family just came into a lot of money?”
“Let me see if I can find his exact words.” She combed through the document in front of her. “I’m leaving the barn, etcetera, okay. Here it is: To Chase Cooper, because he trusted me with his life. Something no other man would have done. And over the years, I grew to know this man and his heart. I’m leaving him my barn, and my corrals to do with what I know will bring him and this community a great deal of joy.”
“My dad wrote that?” RuthieAnn asked.
“Every word,” Avery said, grinning. “Clark seemed like a complicated man. I didn’t get to know him very well, but every time he and I worked together, he was sober. Said he wanted to make out his will with a clear head. We usually worked first thing in the morning. He was also very kind and generous. Liked to bring flowers and chocolates to my mom and me. I don’t think you ev
er met my mom before today, Chase. Am I right?”
“No. She seems lovely,” Chase told her. “She seems to be doing really well.”
RuthieAnn thought it was strange that the two never met, considering they were almost in the same family.
“All I can say is, I can’t keep up with her. She has so much energy. It’s incredible. She also applied to Reinstate to the State Bar of Arizona. I’m hoping she can join me as a partner soon. My mom was a revered attorney before my dad and Chuck got a hold of her. Anyway, we’re both working hard to sort all of that out. But let’s get back to Mr. Dolan and his will.”
“And we can start back with me,” Chase said. “I don’t want any of it. Everything he left me should go to RuthieAnn and her brother. It certainly shouldn’t be mine. What the heck was he thinking?”
RuthieAnn turned towards Chase. “I know this is going to sound crazy coming from me about my dad, but my dad was trying to do something good. Clark was obviously sober when he wrote that, and he saw something in you that you need to consider before you toss what he left you back at me and Kevin.”
“How about you three talk over the details later. Shall we move on?” Avery offered.
“Yes,” RuthieAnn agreed, wanting to avoid an argument with Chase. “Let’s move on.”
“The rest of the land, along with mineral rights, any livestock that’s still living there, and buildings, goes to both RuthieAnn and Kevin Dolan. However, there’s one stipulation: RuthieAnn can only inherit if she is no longer with that lying, cheating bastard she ran away with when she was eighteen. Fortunately, he doesn’t give a name of this lying cheating man, so you will inherit as long as you can verify to me that you are no longer with the lying cheating bastard you ran away with when you were eighteen.”
“I’m not. He’s in jail. How much land are we talking about? A few hundred acres?” RuthieAnn asked.
“Clark had a lot more than that,” Chase said. “Hell, there was even talk that he’d won some land from an old prospector years ago in a heated poker game.”
“You’re right,” Avery said. “He did, from a Tom Mathis who signed just over ten thousand acres to Clark about fifteen years ago. Soon after, this Tom Mathis left Wild Creek, never to be heard of again.”
RuthieAnn’s heart skipped a beat and her eyes went wide. It had to be a coincidence. It just had to be. There couldn’t be any relationship to . . . “Wait, did you say Tom Mathis? Do you know anything about this man? Did he have a son?”
Her heart raced and her palms were sweaty, not to mention the terror that now gripped her.
“I don’t know anything about him, but we might be able to look him up at County Records.”
“What’s wrong? Do you know who this Tom Mathis is?” Chase asked.
“I can’t say,” she said, standing, desperately wanting to know the truth right now. She had to know. Needed to know. “I have to find out for sure. I have to know who he is, if he had a son.”
“Why? Please tell me?” Chase sounded as if he was begging.
“I can look him up here,” Avery said. “Give me a minute.”
“If you would. Yes, please.”
Avery turned to the computer on her desk. RuthieAnn couldn’t stop herself, she walked around the desk to stare at the screen. “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Avery said, and soon Chase came around as well.
Without giving it another thought, RuthieAnn reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing hard, hoping to glean a little of his strength.
And in the next moment, a photo of Tom Mathis popped up on Avery’s screen. Tom had died a few years back. His obituary was there, along with the information that RuthieAnn dreaded with all her heart . . .
Tom Mathis is survived by his only son, Gary ‘Lucky’ Mathis.
“Is this the man? Did you know his son?” Avery asked, as Chase pulled RuthieAnn in closer, but this time she stepped away from him and pulled her hand out of his. What she’d just learned was too brutal and too raw for her to handle, and she certainly didn’t want to talk it over with Chase. Then she’d have to tell him the truth. She’d have to tell him that she was used for some sick reason of revenge on Lucky’s part.
She wanted to scream, but instead she calmly answered Avery’s question.
“Yes. Lucky is my son’s dad, the lying cheating bastard I ran away with five years ago. The man I helped put behind bars. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to pick up my son.”
“Let me come with you,” Chase said as she walked past him.
“No, but thanks. I need some space. Some time to sort this all out.”
“RuthieAnn . . .” Chase whispered, but she had already walked out of the door.
CHASE HADN’T SEEN RuthieAnn since the will was read in Avery’s office. He’d wanted to go after her that day, but Avery convinced him that she needed her space. Chase honored her request—at least for that first afternoon and the following day. But for the past couple of days, he’d more or less followed RuthieAnn’s trail—at least her home improvement trail.
He’d called her several times, texted her at least five times, and even drove over to the inn, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t seem to catch up to her. She finally sent him a text stating that she was sorry, but she was busy cleaning out Clark’s house and it was taking up all of her time. He’d driven over to Clark’s place to catch up with her, but of course, she wasn’t there. Chase wasn’t a fool. He knew the cold shoulder treatment when he saw it. Still, the woman had gotten under his skin and no way was he going to give up without a battle, besides which, he knew how much Jayden wanted those riding lessons. Problem was, Pearl would bring Jayden to the lessons instead of RuthieAnn.
While he was at Clark’s house, which was coming along, but still needed a lot of work, (she’d rented a huge metal trash bin which was almost full) he checked out the barn and corrals. They were both in total disrepair and needed a ton of work, which Chase had no desire to do. He couldn’t imagine what Clark could have been thinking. He could barely pick up a curry brush, let alone a hammer or lumber, both of which were required to repair the barn. The man must have done it in a drunken stupor or why else would he have thought it a good idea?
Just as he was driving away from his inherited mess, his phone vibrated. It was Joyce Lando, part owner of Lando Hardware, the only hardware store/gardening shop in town.
“Clark’s daughter is in here arguing with Ned over those flowers you ordered for Clark’s memorial. You best get down here if you don’t want Ned to pop a vein. We’re too old for conflicts like this.”
“I’ll be right there. Thanks for calling.”
“I’m calling for my sake, not yours. I like my husband and want him to hang around a while longer. Now you get your skinny tail over here as soon as you can. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Chase immediately raced over, which only took about ten minutes when you drive over the speed limit. He was fortunate enough to find a spot right in front of the store, swung out onto the sidewalk and hightailed it into the store, trying to make it seem as if this was an accidental meeting.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said as he forced himself to back off and casually stroll up to the counter, interrupting the conversation between Joyce Lando and RuthieAnn. Ned was off helping another customer.
RuthieAnn instantly turned on him. “Look, I get that you think you owe Clark, but you can’t keep paying for everything, and you especially can’t pay for all these flowers you ordered. It’s a crazy amount of flowers. Clark doesn’t deserve all this fuss. Besides, I can’t condone all that floral waste.”
He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she was riled up, and the animation in her face. She looked positively incredible. God, how he’d missed her.
“They won’t be wasted,” he explained. “All the flowers are in pots. I thought you might want some of them for the front of Clark’s house or rather your house, now that you’re fixing it up. Th
en whatever’s left will be sent to Flagstaff to the two senior centers. Can’t have too many flowers in a senior center.”
“My dad hated flowers,” she said, a fist glued to her hip.
“That’s not the impression I got when he was talking about your mom and the flowers on her porch.”
“That was a different time. He wasn’t that man when he died.”
“Maybe not, but I’d like to think that a part of him remembered that man and tried to tap into those old feelings.”
“He was a nasty, cantankerous old fool who doesn’t even deserve a funeral much less floral arrangements. I’m only doing this out of respect for you.”
“Then if you’re doing it for me, placate me and allow me to fill the place with flowers. Please. It means a lot to me.”
She took in a breath and quickly let it out. “Fine. And somebody from O’Malley’s Funeral Home called to tell me that you had upgraded his coffin and you paid for opening his cemetery plot as well. You don’t have to do this. I can afford to pay for my own father’s funeral.”
“I’m sure you can, but I’d like to take care of this for Clark. He wouldn’t let me do anything for him while he was alive. Please let me do this for him now.”
He could tell she was backing down. “He’s dead. What does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
Her eyes misted.
He reached out and slipped a strand of hair over her ear, then ran his hand down her arm. “Let’s go somewhere and talk. Okay?”
She nodded and walked towards the front door. Chase turned to Joyce. “Keep everything I ordered on my tab, and I’ll take care of it later. Oh, and add about ten more pots of pink geraniums and please deliver them to Old Town Inn next Saturday morning. Thanks, Joyce.”
“Anytime, Chase, honey,” she said, her voice sounding like tires driving over gravel. Joyce, a proud Black woman, had to be in her early eighties and was still going strong. Her great-grandfather, Seth Lando, had settled in Wild Creek once he’d gotten his freedom after the Civil War. He’d helped build most of the town and set up this very store with the money he’d saved from construction. Seth Lando and his wife, Annie May, were some of the first residents of Wild Creek and their hardware store stood as a testament to their perseverance and hard work. Joyce, Ned, their daughter, and their granddaughter and husband intended to keep it going for many years to come.
