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)
Goody clears her throat. “May I finish?”
Cash’s eyes stay locked on mine. “Go for it.”
“The monetary assets—cash and the investment portfolio, which have been placed in a trust—will also go to Mollie.”
Dad made a pile of money back in the nineties when oil was discovered on a far corner of our family’s property. Mom got some of it in the divorce, and she used it to start a real estate brokerage company in Dallas. Dad divided the rest between the ranch and the stock market. Considering the Dow Jones Industrial Average has increased fourfold since then…yeah, there’s a lot of money there.
Cash lets out a dark chuckle. “See, City Girl? You got your money. Let us have the ranch.”
I take a page from his book and stay silent. No point honoring that ridiculousness with a response. Although what does he mean when he says us?
“However”—Goody flattens her palm on the table beside mine—“there is a stipulation.”
I finally break eye contact with Cash to look at Dad’s attorney. “A stipulation? Like I have to be a certain age or something to inherit the estate?”
“Sort of.” She hesitates. “This stipulation…is unique, I’ll say that much. Your father is requiring you to reside on Lucky Ranch for one full calendar year before you can access any of the funds in the trust. He also requests you actively participate in the day-to-day operations as principal of Lucky Ranch Enterprises, Incorporated. If you do so, you’ll receive a generous monthly stipend from the trust for every month you reside in Hartsville.”
I laugh.
I throw back my head and laugh, hard, because if I don’t, I’m worried I’ll puke.
Surely, Goody is joking. Surely, my father, a quiet, practical man, would never ask me—the daughter he sent to boarding school and then to college in major cities—to live in the middle of nowhere for a year while running a cattle ranch.
But Goody just looks at me and blinks. Totally unfazed.
Oh, God. She’s serious.
“That can’t be right.” Cash leans over to glance at the paperwork. “Doesn’t sound like Garrett.”
At least we can agree on that.
Goody tilts her head. “I was sitting in this very chair when Garrett said exactly those words back in April. We drafted the new will that day.”
I blink back tears, my stomach pitching. “But why make me live on the ranch? Is that even legal? How can it be enforced?”
Goody takes a long inhale and then holds out her hands, palms up. “It’s what your dad wanted, Mollie. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you hoped to hear.”
“What if I don’t do it?”
Cash harrumphs. “Shocker.”
Ignoring him, I press on. “I have a job. Like I said, I run my company back in Dallas. And I have a condo, and—and my mom lives there, and I—my friends, everything—I can’t just—”
“Leave?” Cash raises a brow. “You could try it, right now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why don’t you take your own advice? My dad clearly didn’t leave you anything—”
“That’s not exactly true,” Goody interjects.
“—so why don’t you get the hell out of here already?”
Cash turns to the attorney. “I’m listening.”
“Can’t you just release the funds, Goody?” I ask, desperate. “Even just a portion of them? At least until I can get Mom’s lawyers to look at the will.”
She offers me a contrite smile. “Wouldn’t be right, Mollie. I’m sorry. We do this how your dad wanted it done, or we don’t do it at all. My hands are tied.”
My mind whirls. Pressing my fingertips to my forehead, I close my eyes and try not to panic. I can’t make heads or tails of what was my father’s dying wish. I haven’t stepped foot on the ranch in twenty years. Why bring me back now?
Why make me Lucky Ranch’s principal owner?
Why do I care?
Why the hell do I care?
I don’t know why. But my heart still feels like it’s being passed through a paper shredder.
“As ranch life is”—Goody clears her throat—“clearly not a passion of yours, Mollie, I suggest you establish residency here in Hartsville as soon as possible. The sooner the clock starts, the sooner you’ll get your stipends, and the sooner you’ll be able to go back to your life in Dallas.”
“She won’t last a week,” Cash mutters.
“You’re not going to last another minute if you keep insulting me.” I open my eyes to glare at him. “I don’t know what my dad saw in you, but it’s obvious he was a piss-poor judge of character. Seriously, leave.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere until I know Lucky Ranch ends up in the right hands.”
Goody rises. “How about we take five?”
Jamming the cap back onto my pen, I throw it into my bag, along with my planner. “I’m done here. Goody, you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out,” I hear Cash say as I stalk out of the conference room.