Heartstrings (10 page)

She used her free hand to wipe at the tears. “John was ten years older than your mother. The Harrises never had much, and I think Steven hoped marrying her off to someone like John would calm her down. John was determined to make something of this ranch and have a family. He knew she was a wild one, but he loved her. So, he married her.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t have been so wild if he’d allowed her follow her dreams.”

She slowly nodded. “John, I’m afraid, was a fool. He thought if he kept her here, she’d learn to love him.”

“Instead, she hated us both,” he murmured and lowered his head. How could this all still hurt so damned much?

She shook him and glared at him with a blue fire of conviction. “Don’t you dare talk like that. I was never a fan of your mother. Quite frankly, I hated her. Suzie hurt my brother, but she loved you. If she hadn’t, she would’ve left.”

She did. She committed suicide
. He glanced at the wood-paneled door of the study. Moving out of her embrace, he opened the door. “Let’s get this over with. I have a meeting with the nursing home director later.”

The study was as he remembered it. The shelving along one wall held various books about ranching, leather- and paper-bound ledgers and journals of the ranch, dating back to 1878. The family Bible was displayed on a table beside an old leather wingchair that had sat in front of the tall window for a hundred years. The unforgiving space reeked of musty books and Cuban cigars–just like the man who had lived and died in this room.

Frank Ritter stood behind the desk and held out a shaky hand to him. The judge had come down with Parkinson’s Disease during Seth’s senior year of high school, which hadn’t helped the Ritters’ financial situation.

He greeted Frank, then turned to Tucker and Vince Cowley and shook their hands in turn. Their parents had lived and worked on the ranch while they were growing up. Presently, Tucker was the acting manager of the place, and Vince was a foreman.

“Shall we get started?” Johanna took her seat beside Seth’s chair.

“Yes.” Frank adjusted his reading glasses and cleared his throat. “As all of you know, John Kendall was one of my oldest and dearest friends. Not much unlike you, Seth, and my son, Mike.”

The judge gave him a sad smile, and Seth looked away as bitterness swamped him.
No, you wouldn’t have betrayed Dad the way Mike did me.

“So, years ago when John asked me to read his will, I said I would but never dreamed it would happen so soon. I’ll miss him.” Frank’s hand violently shook as he opened the folder before him, and he swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He readjusted his glasses and read the will.

“To my son, Seth Christopher Kendall, resident of Brentwood, Tennessee, I hereby bequeath stock of which the current market value equals over two million dollars. He may take any items he desires from the residence.”

Clearing his throat, Frank pushed his glasses into place again after his shaking jiggled them down his nose. He furrowed his brow as he read.

“
The property known as the Double K ranch, including the livestock, equipment, and business assets, is to be sold at fair market value.
”

Frank looked over his wire-rimmed glasses at Seth.

“
The moneys from this sale will be set up into a trust fund for the minor child hereafter referred to as Minor Child.
”

Johanna grabbed his hand, but Seth didn’t feel her touch. He was too numb. Although Frank continued reading, his words stopped registering.

His father had made sure he could never come home. Unless he paid for it.

“Who?” Johanna asked, interrupting Frank’s reading and breaking into Seth’s thoughts. “Is the identity of this minor child ever named?”

“I’m sorry, Johanna, all John indicates is that this beneficiary will remain unidentified until such time the minor reaches the age of eighteen.”

“He doesn’t say who it is? How can that be? You wrote the damned will! This land should go to Seth.”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t write it. John had a lawyer over in Amarillo write it up. I’m as curious as you are about his secrecy, but John never did anything without a good and sound reason.”

“Is this binding?” Seth fisted his hands where they lay on his thigh. Why the hell did he care so much? “Can I contest the will because of this unusual secrecy about the minor?”

“Sure, but I think it will be fruitless. The lawyer in Amarillo holds the identity of the anonymous minor benefactor in counsel. It is completely legal. Unorthodox, but legal.”

Frank turned back to reading the rest of the will, bequeathing a portion of John’s wealth to Johanna. The Cowley brothers were to each receive a year’s severance pay and a sizable inheritance for their loyalty.

As soon as the judge concluded the reading, Seth was on his feet and heading for the door. Only Frank’s calling his name stopped him.

He lifted the leaf of the folder before him and held a sealed envelope over the desk. “Your father wanted me to give this to you.”

Dad, you’re as much a prick now as you’ve always been.
Seth contemplated the letter a long moment before taking it. “Thanks, Judge. I’ll be seeing you around. Aunt Johanna, I’ll see you back at your house.”

Without looking back, he donned his Stetson and left. Once in the SUV, he tossed the letter onto the passenger seat.

He pounded his hand on the steering wheel. Of course, his father would do something like this. Anything to keep him from his birthright.

Johanna rushed off the porch and stopped at the open window of his SUV as he turned the key in the ignition. “Seth, wait! Where’re you going?”

He sucked in a breath between his teeth and cut the engine. “First, to my meeting and then home. I’m going back to Nashville. Maybe there really isn’t anything here for me.”

Johanna waited until the Cowley brothers passed by. They tipped their hats at him and his aunt, but none of them said anything. What was there to say? As soon as the place sold, Tucker and Vince would be out of a job–and homeless. This place was as much their home as it was his.

“If you leave, you really are a damned fool. Listen to me. I know this hurts. Get out of there and let’s talk about what I think is going on.”

He pounded the steering wheel again and opened the door.

She moved back as he got out, and pointed toward the yard. “Let’s go back to the gazebo and get out of this blasted sun.”

He followed her through the recently mowed grass to the grove of pecan trees and the gazebo. The fresh scent of cut buffalo grass mingling with the heat of the day normally would have relaxed him. Not today. He was wound so tight he thought he’d explode.

Once inside, Johanna sat on the swing and patted the space beside her.

Seth shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned a shoulder against a post. “What’s there to say? Dad hated my guts.”

“No, he didn’t.” She slapped her jeans-covered thigh. “Who do you think this minor is?”

He shrugged and stared out over the pasture. “Maybe he has a bastard out there somewhere.”

“Jesus, you are every bit your father’s son!” Her sharp tone along with her use of the Lord’s name in vain caused him to snap his head toward her. “Think!”

He puckered his brow, until the answer hit him square in the chest so hard he flopped down on the bench beside her. “Emily?”

“Yes.” She sighed and patted his hand where it rested limp on his leg. “He probably figured out the truth the same way I did. She looks like our momma.” She smiled and shrugged. “Which probably also put his mind at ease about you being his son, by the way.”

He met her gaze, and she squeezed his hand. “John couldn’t put Emily by name in his will. Hell, maybe he wasn’t even sure Abby knew you were her father. Or that you knew. And he wouldn’t want to hurt the Ritters, but he wanted to provide for his granddaughter in some way.”

She sighed again and looked down at her hand on his. “He couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t sell the ranch just to spite him. At least this way, the profits go to Emily. She’ll need the money more than you do.”

He looked past her at the pasture. Cattle lazily munched on grass, swishing their tails at flies. He felt like one of the flies–unwanted and unloved. “What should I do?”

She patted his arm and stood. “If I have to tell you that, you’re as useless as teats on a bull.”

Chapter 5

“Wow, this place is hopping tonight,” Jenny Lynn said as she smiled at Earle, the bouncer, after she and Abby and entered Gatlin’s Friday night.

Earle shrugged a big shoulder and spoke loudly to be heard over the band and the crowd. “It’s always busy Friday nights. You ladies know that.” He smiled at Abby. “You gonna do some dancing?”

“If the right cowboy asks, I will.” Abby gave him her best flirty smile. “See you around, Earle.”

Jenny Lynn leaned over and said near her ear, “He’s sweet on you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Jenny Lynn, Earle Murphy is my second cousin. I’m an Indian. I’m not from West Virginia.”

Jenny Lynn looked over her shoulder at the bouncer. “Shoot. He’s cute.”

“And big and twelve years older than me. If and when I decide to start looking for a man, I won’t need any help. C’mon. There’s a table near the dance floor. I know you want a clear line of sight to the band.”

Jenny Lynn waved at the drummer, who winked at her.

As they sat, she looked at the band. She set her phone on the glossy top and pulled her hair over one shoulder. “So, Wayne Cover is the reason you just had to come to Gatlin’s tonight. I can’t believe you’re dating him again.”

Jenny Lynn shrugged and waved at a waitress dressed like a cowgirl in tight jeans, red western shirt and boots. “What can I say? He’s got so much going for him. He’s a Texas Ranger and hot as a devil. Besides, it’s not as if we’re serious. He likes me for my blond hair and big boobs, and I like him for his big... Well, I think you get the picture.”

Abby couldn’t fight the blush burning her cheeks. She’d known Jenny Lynn for eleven years and shouldn’t be surprised by anything the woman said. She glanced at the man she’d never wanted to imagine without his clothes. His buzz cut seemed at odds with the way he played the drums. “Yeah, I get the picture better than I’d like to.”

Jenny Lynn ordered them both longnecks. Once the waitress left, she leaned over the small round table. “So, when was the last time you were on a date?”

“I’m not interested in dating. I have Emily to consider. The divorce was tough on her.”

The waitress dropped off their beers, and Jenny Lynn thanked the girl. She took a sip and set the bottle on the table. “Yet, not six months after said divorce was final her father remarried.”

She picked at the label on her bottle. “It’s different for a man. You know that.”

“All I know is you are in some serious need of loosening up. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to get laid while we’re at it.”

Before Abby could wrap her tied tongue around an appropriate comeback, a commotion at the front drew her attention. Seth Kendall stood inside the door talking to Earle, while a dozen or so people–mostly women–flocked to surround him.

“Now, there’s a man who’s dream worthy,” Jenny Lynn said just loud enough for Abby to hear. “I still can’t believe you know him.”

“Yeah, I know him.”
And yes, he’s definitely dream worthy. Just don’t fall in love with him because then he becomes a nightmare.

“He sang here while he was in high school, didn’t he?”

She chugged half her beer and nodded. “Every Friday night for about five months before his father found out. He was only seventeen at the time. Earle would let Mike and me sneak in just to watch him.” Her heart raced at the memories. “He sure was something.”

Still is
.

A woman pushed her way to the front of the pack to stand before Seth. Her tight, orange tank top barely covered her large breasts.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I’m finally meetin’ you!”

Abby winced at the shrillness of the woman’s shriek.

Jenny Lynn laughed. “Leave it to that floozy to make a scene.”