Her father took hold of her mother’s hand, and his gaze drifted to the headstone that was inscribed with both his parents’ names. “At least they’re together again. I’m sure Mom has missed him.”
Grandma had been the only one that could soften Grandpa, who could tease him into better moods or change his mind. Things might have been different if she hadn’t succumbed to her stroke. If only Grandpa had found her sooner or been able to get her to the hospital faster. He’d been out checking on fences, though, and Coyote Glen was a twenty-five-minute drive from Bisbee.
The stupid ranch. It had caused nothing but problems for her family.
When the graveside service finished, the family drove back to the church where the entire congregation held a luncheon. One more thing to get through before Kate could go back to the house and help her parents sort through her grandfather’s things.
While the family sat at their table eating, Libby leaned over to Kate. In some ways Libby was a younger version of Kate. She had the same strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, but she was never awkward or unsure of herself the way Kate had been at her age. “Don’t look now, but Mr. Hot Cowboy is checking you out.”
Kate doubted that. She ventured a quick glance. Landon was indeed looking at their table. She was so used to him in jeans and a cowboy hat with two days growth on his jaw that it was odd seeing him clean-shaven and in a suit. The clothing transformed him from rugged and windswept to sleek and sophisticated.
Kate finished up her last bite of potatoes. “Landon probably just wants to talk to Mom and Dad about the ranch.” She’d told her parents he’d stopped by and offered to buy Coyote Glen. She’d also told them about the Wyle Away Ranch’s water issues. As she expected, her parents were sympathetic, but not sympathetic enough to change their plans.
Her mother’s gaze flicked over to the Wyles’ table. “Landon is the blond one, right? I can never keep all those brothers straight. Is he the oldest?”
“Ethan is the oldest,” Kate said. “When he went to college, Landon took over the ranch.” Ethan, Kate noticed, hadn’t come home for the funeral.
Her father cut through a piece of ham. “Landon is the one who’s been raising Preston, the youngest.”
Libby’s eyes widened. “What happened to their parents?”
“Car accident,” her father said. “Five years ago some drunk college students hit them while they were coming home from a horse show.”
Libby had been too young to be affected by or apparently remember that piece of news, but Kate had felt sick for days. Preston was only twelve at the time, so the state granted guardianship to Landon, who’d been all of twenty-one.
During the next Christmas video chat, Kate’s grandfather vacillated between grief and fury in the Wyles’ behalf. He’d given a stern treatise on what should be done with teenage drunk drivers. Kate had wondered if he’d aimed those lectures at her since she was already an established person of ill-repute.
“That’s so sad.” Libby glanced at the Wyle’s table. Her attention immediately snapped back to her family. “He’s coming over here.”
So he was. As Landon drew closer, Kate noticed that his eyes were red-rimmed. She forgave him then, at least mostly, for his comment about her grandfather turning in his grave. Whatever else she thought about Landon, he’d genuinely cared about her grandfather.
He tilted his head in greeting to Kate. “Kitty.” Hearing her grandparents’ nickname for her was oddly comforting, a good memory from the past.
Landon turned to her parents. “I wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss. Cal was a great man. After my parents passed away, he checked in on us daily to see if we needed anything. We came home from their funeral, and his men were fixing our fences. He did things like that for us all the next year. He even went to Preston’s basketball games.”
Kate was glad to hear this, glad that her grandfather was generous to his neighbors, but another part of her asked, Why didn’t he ever come to see me run track?
Really, Kate had to stop feeling this way—jealous and resentful. Being in Arizona seemed to bring out the worst in her. She would be glad when this week was over and she could go back to her old life where she didn’t feel like a petulant fifteen-year-old.
“If there’s anything you need help with,” Landon added, “just let me know.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her father.
Her father slid the card into his pocket. “I appreciate that.” He probably would have said more, but Landon’s brothers decided to join him. The group of them walked over, looking like the new spring line in someone’s suit catalog. One had to appreciate their genetics. All of them were tall and muscular.
Dillon introduced himself and gave his condolences. Preston said a few words and then Jaxon did the same. He held a little girl’s hand who looked to be about six years old. Her long dark hair was held back by a headband, and she had an angelic face.
When Landon told her that Jaxon had a daughter, Kate had imagined a toddler or a baby. Now she couldn’t help but do the math. Jaxon was twenty-four. If he had a six-year-old, that meant his daughter was born when he was eighteen. Eighteen. So young to be a father. And his girlfriend must have gotten pregnant not long after he’d given her kissing lessons.
Her grandfather hadn’t ever mentioned that Jaxon had a daughter, but then, besides the news about Mr. and Mrs. Wyle’s death, her grandpa never said much about his neighbors’ personal lives. He considered that sort of thing gossip. His updates had been more along the line of who helped him vaccinate cattle.
“We’re going to miss Cal,” Jaxon said. “He was a good friend and an even better neighbor. Whenever I was in a pinch, he was the first to help out.”
Kate always assumed her grandfather gave Jaxon the same scolding he’d given her and figured Jaxon held the same resentment. But no. Grandpa had been a good friend and neighbor to him.
Had it just been Kate? Had he been loving toward everyone else but her? Her head was starting to hurt. She wanted to go home, but she and her parents still had to meet with Grandpa’s lawyer to go over his will. Kate was a beneficiary, which meant she had to sign documents. She hadn’t given a lot of thought to what her grandfather left her. It was hard to think of profiting from death.
Landon nodded at Kate’s parents. “We won’t keep you. I know you need to get to the lawyer’s office.”
Her mother smiled politely. “How did you know that?”
“I’m going too,” Landon said, as though surprised they weren’t aware. “I’ve been named in the will.”
On the drive to the law firm, Kate’s mother said, “It’s nice that Dad left something for Landon in his will.”
Kate was peering out the window at Bisbee. Houses perched on the sides of the city’s steep hills like mountain goats, balancing precariously. Above them, patches of lonely green brush dotted the red mountains. This scenery had been a familiar part of her childhood, and this was probably the last time she’d ever see it. The thought brought a lonely pang to her chest.
“I bet he’ll get Marigold,” Libby said. Marigold was Grandpa’s favorite horse, a prize-winning cutter who was pregnant by another champion. Grandpa’d had high expectations for the foal.
“He probably left Landon the farm equipment,” their father said. “And that’s fine. He’ll put it to good use, and we won’t have to worry about selling it off ourselves.”
Their mother relaxed a bit. “That’s probably it.”
Libby perked up. “Then can I keep Marigold?”
“No,” her parents said in unison. Her mother added, “We’ll find a good home for her.”
Their father nodded. “A horse with her pedigree and skills should go for at least fifteen thousand. Maybe closer to twenty-five.” Under his breath, he added, “That’ll pay for Libby’s first semester of college.”
Libby scooted up in her seat, pulling her seatbelt with her. “I don’t graduate high school for four years. Can we keep her
until then?”
“Boarding horses is expensive,” her mother said.
Libby’s shoulders fell in dramatic disappointment. “But you said that once you inherited the ranch, you’d have enough to pay off your debts with plenty left over.”
Kate took hold of her sister’s elbow, motioning for her to sit back in her seat. “It’s disrespectful to talk about spending Grandpa’s money right after his funeral.”
Libby returned to her seat with a thud. “I’m not being disrespectful. Having grandpa’s horse would help me remember him.” Her bottom lip quavered. “He loved Marigold, so every time I rode her I’d think of him.”
Kate immediately regretted snapping at her sister. “Sorry, Libs. That’s a sweet thought. I wish we could keep her.”
Libby didn’t reply. Apparently, she’d decided to sulk about her horselessness.
“I’m glad you want to remember Grandpa,” their father said, “but we won’t actually see any money until we develop the land. Until then, we need to put away what we can in your college fund.”
Libby sighed, still dramatic. “How expensive is college?”
Their father adjusted the sun visor. “Expensive enough that we’re still paying off your sister’s degree.”
That’s where the bulk of her parents’ debts had come from. Kate’s tuition. During her senior year of high school, they’d found her wistfully flipping through brochures for New York School of Interior Design. They’d encouraged her to apply, despite the fifty-three-thousand-dollar yearly tuition. When Kate protested that her meager savings wouldn’t cover the rent in New York, let alone that sort of tuition, they’d told her that they believed in her talent and thought she should learn from the best. They’d agreed to pay for it all.
Kate planned on paying them back once she had her own design business. She wanted to prove to them and to herself that their faith in her had been well spent.
Mother turned in her seat to better see Libby. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find something else of Grandpa’s to help you remember him. Something that’s not alive.”
Libby shrugged. “Maybe.”
Kate only wanted a few things of her grandmother’s: one of the quilts she’d helped make, the red mixing bowls that brought back memories of baking cookies, and maybe a few books. Not things likely to be mentioned in the will.
The lawyer’s office was in the newer area of town—a brick building with arched windows and colonial posts that tried for an air of stateliness. The family went inside, and the receptionist showed them into a room with a long cherrywood table large enough for a dozen people. Only Landon sat there. He still wore his suit and looked as at home in it as any businessman. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was part of the law firm.
“Mr. Wagner will be with you in a minute,” the receptionist said and left the room. Her heels clicked off down the hallway.
Kate and her family sat across the table from Landon and silently waited. Libby scrolled through her social media. The girl couldn’t be away from it for long.
Their father leaned toward Landon. “Kate told us about your offer to purchase Coyote Glen. I wish we could help you with your water situation, but I talked to my brother-in-law, and he doesn’t seem to think there’s anything we can do. A golf course needs a lot of watering.”
A muscle twitched in Landon’s cheek, revealing his annoyance. “You know Cal wouldn’t want his home turned into a golf course. Don’t his wishes count for anything?”
Kate felt a twinge of guilt. Her grandfather would have hated the idea of a golf course. If her parents felt any of that same guilt, they didn’t show it. Her mother sent Landon a tolerant smile. “We need to do what’s best for our family. I’m sure you understand that.”
“I do understand,” Landon said. “How much will it take to buy Coyote Glen? If this is just about money, you must have a price. What is it?”
Her father let out a slow breath. “I could get back to you with a figure, but I guarantee you won’t like it.”
The door opened, and a tall elderly man with graying hair walked into the room carrying a stack of paper. “I’m Miles Wagner, Calvin’s lawyer and executor of his will. Glad to meet you folks. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
He sat down, still offering condolences, and passed out copies of the will—one for everyone but Libby. She was only here because driving back to the ranch to drop her off would have taken too much time.
Mr. Wagner finished with the papers. “Wills are written in a legal language that’s long and sometimes difficult to understand, so I’ll just give you the basics. After Calvin’s wife died, he changed his will. I’m assuming he told you of the changes?”
“No.” A hint of wariness entered her father’s tone. “Dad never mentioned that.”
“Oh.” Mr. Wagner drew out the word. He shifted in his chair, but when he spoke again it was with the same calm professionalism. “Well, the basics are that your father put his money, home, and all ranch assets into a trust which I’m to oversee for a year. He left a modest stock portfolio, the household items, and his personal effects to you.”
Her father held up a hand to stop the lawyer. “Wait, what was that about the trust?”
Mr. Wagner flipped through a few pages of his copy of the will. “The land, cattle, home, and ranch equipment were left to Kate with the provision that in order to inherit them, she must live on the ranch and keep it profitable for a year’s time.”
The news hit Kate like an unexpected splash of cold water. Her grandfather had left Coyote Glen to her? Why? It was supposed to go to her father. Shock made it hard to concentrate on the lawyer’s next words.
“She isn’t allowed to sell land, equipment, or other assets during that time. She may sell livestock, but at the end of the year, her number of cattle can’t be down more than ten percent.”
Mr. Wagner checked a figure on one of the papers. “Cal had been culling his herd the last few years, so currently the number is three hundred and forty-eight. Kate will need to have at least three hundred and thirteen. She isn’t allowed to take gifts of cash, livestock, or equipment from outside sources in order to make the ranch profitable, and no one is allowed to live on the property with her except a qualified foreman. The reasoning being that she needs to be involved with the ranching herself. To be considered qualified, the foreman must have worked on a ranch for at least the previous five years.
If at any time within the year, Kate vacates Coyote Glen or is unable to keep the ranch out of the debt for three consecutive months, the trust and all its assets will go to Landon Wyle.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. The air seemed to have left her lungs without any thought of returning. “What?” she finally managed.
Her mother looked from her father to the lawyer, blinking in disbelief. “That can’t be right. How could that be legal?”
Mr. Wagner folded his hands over the table. “People make all sorts of stipulations where trusts are concerned. Technically, Kate won’t inherit for a year. Until then, my office will oversee the ranch’s books to make sure everything is in order. After the will’s terms are met, she’ll be able to keep or dispose of the land and assets as she sees fit.”
He flipped through another page. “I also need to let you know about a provision leasing water rights to the Wyle Away Ranch for the duration of the year. As listed in section seven, the cost for that transaction will be one dollar.” He slid a paper to Landon. “I’ll need to collect payment and have you sign this.”
Landon smiled brightly, pulled out his wallet, and handed a dollar bill to the lawyer. “I’m much obliged.” He took the pen Mr. Wagner proffered and clicked the top. “Turns out Cal’s wishes do count for something after all.”
Kate’s stomach turned over on itself. This was not how things were supposed to go. Her parents were already grief-stricken, and now both were growing pale with the added pain of this blow.
“Why would Grandpa do this?” she asked. �
��Why would he make me stay at Coyote Glen for a year? I have a job.” Shock turned into panic. “I can’t raise cattle. I don’t know how to do that.” It was a punishment—that’s what her grandfather had left her. Kate’s eyes flew to the lawyer. “If Grandpa planned to cut his own family from his will, why didn’t he just do it outright? Instead he wanted me to live out in the middle of nowhere, failing, so that after a year, I’d feel extra horrible about losing the family ranch?”
She thought of her position at the interior design firm, her clients, her ordered life—in the way a dying person sees her life flash before her eyes. Kate’s boss had told her that she showed so much promise, she would be moving up the ranks quickly. You could make driftwood and seaweed look glamorous, she’d said more than once.
And now Kate was going to have to quit her job in order to run cattle for a year.
Mr. Wagner adjusted his glasses, clearly uncomfortable at the tension in the room. “Normally, I don’t comment on my clients’ motivation, but Calvin told me he wanted the ranch kept in the family, and he knew his son preferred another profession. He felt if Kate gave ranching a try, she’d like it. But if she didn’t, his property should go to someone who did. In this case, Mr. Wyle.”
Kate’s father was not one to lose his temper easily, but a red flush crept up his throat. “You don’t have to move here,” he told her. “I wouldn’t let Grandpa bully me into changing careers, and I’m not about to let him force you into it.” He turned to Mr. Wagner, his back rigid with determination. “We’ll fight this. My father couldn’t have been in his right mind when he made this will. You said he changed it after my mother died. He must have been grief-stricken, and he didn’t know what he was doing.”
Mr. Wagner was nonplused, almost pitying. “It’s certainly your prerogative to contest the will. However, retaining lawyers is expensive and will most likely not end in the result you want. The documents were legally filed, and Calvin had years to change them if he wanted.”
Kate’s father waved a hand in Landon’s direction. “The way this trust is set up, all Mr. Wyle has to do is sabotage the ranch to make it unprofitable for three straight months, and he’ll inherit the whole thing. You can’t tell me that sort of arrangement would stand in a court of law.”
The Cowboy and the Girl Next Door: (A Clean, Enemies to Lovers Romance) Wyle Away Ranch Book 1 Page 4
