Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
But anytime I needed him, he’d never show.
I blame my nerves on the glowering cowboy across from me. Who, by the way, is lazily leaning back in his chair, knees spread, forearms slung across the armrests like he’s bored.
I feel a surge of anger. I don’t wanna be here either, dickwad.
Dad and I were not close. But I still wish he hadn’t died, even if I am about to get a boatload of his cash and his ranch. In fact, I very much wish he were still here, so I could—I don’t know—try one last time.
Maybe call him one last time and say I love you, I’m sorry, can we start over?
I always assumed we’d have all the time in the world to mend our relationship. Part of me wanted him to know just how hurt I was by his absence in my daily life after my parents got divorced when I was six, so once I got older, I totally shut him out. I figured once I hit a certain level of success—once I was a real adult, one who didn’t hold grudges—we’d iron things out.
Now I’ll never get that chance, and it kills me.
Goody sets out several pieces of paper on the table, pushing them around until they line up in rows of three. “I’d like to start by saying emotions can run high during these situations. It’s okay to take a break if you need it, all right?”
I uncap a purple felt-tipped pen. “Okay.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cash sits up in his chair and rests his elbows on the table.
“Let’s dive right in.” Goody glances down at the papers. “For simplicity’s sake, we’ll divide Garrett Randall Luck’s assets into two buckets: financial and tangible. The Lucky Ranch comprises 256,000 acres and 15,000 head of cattle, along with 22 structures, several pieces of heavy equipment, and an oil operation that produces approximately 1,000 barrels a day. As of the signing of this will, the ranch employed 50 people…”
I hear the whisper of denim on denim. Looking across the table, I notice Cash’s knee is bouncing. He’s anxious too.
Why is he here? Is he expecting to get something from Dad?
“…and then we have the financial bucket, consisting of cash and an investment portfolio. Garrett requested this be put in a trust…”
Cash glances up, and our gazes collide. I finally recognize the look in his eyes.
Resentment. What? Why? I haven’t been in this town for twenty years. What could I have possibly done to him?
“…all this is to say”—Goody inhales sharply, and Cash’s eyes cut to her—“Garrett last amended his will in April of this year. In that amendment, he stipulated that Lucky Ranch and all its operations be bequeathed to his only living relative, Mary Elizabeth Luck, nicknamed Mollie.”
Cash’s hands land with a whack on the table, making me jump. “With all due respect, Goody, that’s incorrect. Garrett said the ranch would go to me.”
My head spins. A fist grips my lungs and squeezes. “Excuse me?”
“Garrett promised me the ranch.” Cash looks me square in the eye. “Many times, in fact.”
Goody frowns. “We don’t have that in writing, I’m afraid.”
I stare at Cash. “Are you delusional?”
“Are you?” he fires back. “Goody, Garrett said he’d put it in his will. I can have all of Hartsville—every single person—vouch for me. Patsy and John B. The ranch hands. Sally and Tallulah, and, well, everyone heard Garrett say it. Think about it. I know Lucky Ranch better’n anyone. My family’s been in Hartsville for generations—”
“He was my dad.” Regardless of the fact that he and I barely spoke over the past decade. “I’m his daughter. What makes you think you’re entitled to his assets? I’ve barely even heard of you.”
Cash’s blue eyes burn. “You would have if you’d called or spent any time on the ranch.”
Fuck. This guy. For life.
“You know nothing about me.” My voice wavers. “And clearly, you know nothing about my family. The ranch belongs to me—”
“Lemme guess. You’re gonna sell it.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Sure as hell is my business. I’ll be damned if our operation is sold to one of your idiot trust-fund friends who doesn’t know their ass from their elbow when it comes to ranching. You got no idea how much work we’ve put in—”
“I don’t care.” I clench my teeth. “Truly, I could care less about you or whatever work you do.”
“You couldn’t care less.”
“Excuse me?”
His eyes bore into mine. “That’s the proper expression.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“Where do I begin?” He leans forward.
“All right, y’all.” Goody raises her voice. “Let’s try and keep it civil, all right? Garrett wouldn’t want y’all arguing this way. We have to respect his wishes as he laid them out in his will. It is the law.”
“I’m gonna fight this,” Cash says.
I purse my lips. “I’d like to see you try.”