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duke
The ranch house was silent, heavy with the knowledge that a storm was rolling in, and you knew it was going to be big because the herd was spooked, and the land was holding its breath.
Everyone was gathered in thegreatroom—which was what everyone called it because, no points for guessing, it was massive—for the reading of the will.
It was the formal living room, the one that mostly sat untouched, reserved for parties, wakes—like the one we’d just had—or, in this case, the reading of a will. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the view beyond, leading out to the garden that stretched toward the river, its waters running swiftly. Beyond, the Colorado mountains stood tall, their peaks still dusted with snow despite the early stirrings of spring. A breathtaking, untamed backdrop for a moment that was as natural as death, the one guarantee we all had in life.
People were spread out. Some sitting, some standing.Elena stood by a tall window, away from everyone else. Her back was turned to the desk from where Nash’s lawyer would read his will and last testament.
Fiona put her hand on my thigh. We sat on a love seat, just the two of us, facing the desk: King and Queen, the royal couple. I was going to be anointed officially, after all. I knew there weren’t any surprises. Nash hadn’t changed his will and given everything away to someone else; no, I knew it was coming to me, all of it bar the bequests made to his long-term workers, for sure Hunt…maybe Elena?
I looked around the room as the fireplace warmed the greatroom. It was a ragtag group of people. Family, friends, cowboys, ranch hands—the people who cared for this land—and the interlopers, Fiona and me.
Mama had declined to attend the reading, saying it was too stressful for her, and I’d been relieved. I’d have had to kick Elena out again, and I couldn’t because Jack McCready, who went by Mac, one of my father’s oldest friends, part cowboy, part lawyer, the only man Nash Wilder trusted to handle his legal affairs, had been clear that Elena, Hunt, and Imustbe present.
“Why are there so many ofthemhere?” Fiona murmured.
“By them, you mean the people who work with their hands to keep this ranch running?” My patience was wearing thin. Her disdain for the men and women who put in the sweat and hours to make this place what it was pissed me off—more than it should have. And that was a whole other kind of fucked up because, not even a weekago, I’d been just like her. I’d looked at this place as numbers on a page, a problem to solve, a deal to close. But the second I set foot back on this land—reconnected with it, felt the earth beneath my boots, smelled the horses and the hay—respect poured out of me like it had just been waiting for the chance.
“Why are you so sensitive?” Fiona smiled as she said the words sharply.
No one would know she was pissed, but she was. She’d tried to have sex last night, and I’d told her I was exhausted. Iwas…with her. And the truth was that I didn’t want any other woman. I wantedmy Elena. Talk about needing a therapist! I was all kinds of messed up.
Mac took a seat, and the quiet became quieter somehow. He looked down at the papers in front of him, his expression somewhere between a pissed-off bull and an old hound eyeing a rattlesnake—wary, tired, but ready to strike if need be.
“Alright, let’s get to it.”
“That’s blunt.” Fiona leaned into me and whispered.
Mac wasn’t one for platitudes; hell, no one around here was.
"Pretty damn sure y’all got a heap of work waitin’ on ya." He looked around the room, and then his gaze dropped on me. He gave me a head bob in acknowledgment.
The old coot wasn’t happy with me. He’d told me I was afuckin’ jackassfor selling the place my daddy and his daddy and his….
I told him I got the point and that unless Nash hadgiven the ranch to someone else, the choice was mine. He’d agreed but let me know he thought I was adisrespectful asshole.
Mac let loose Nash’s last words. As he went through the list, I realized that Nash had thought of everyone, showing them respect.
A pocket watch for Cal, the one Nash always carried. A saddle for Roy, the same damn one he’d always borrowed and never returned. There were several others, all gifts and bequests thoughtful, full of affection.
"To Nokoni Red Clay, I leave my Winchester rifle. I always told you I’d outshoot you with it, and I was right. But since I ain’t here anymore, I guess you’ll finally get a shot at being the best."
A few chuckles rippled through the room.
Nokoni smiled, his eyes moist. I knew he missed his friend.
"To my wife, Gloria, I bequeath full ownership of all assets that were previously held in joint tenancy, including but not limited to her residence, personal bank accounts, and vehicle. Any outstanding debts associated with these assets have been satisfied in full. Furthermore, the monthly stipend she has been receiving shall continue in perpetuity, funded through a trust established in her name and managed by our son, Duke Wilder."
I knew Nash would take care of Mama, and I was glad he had. She had worried even though I’d told her that if Nash wouldn’t, I would—and I could, considering my trust fund and the success of my business—but sheworried all the same. I hoped this would help her sleep better at night.
“To Hunter Blackwood, I bequeath a parcel of land consisting of two thousand acres located in the southeast range, inclusive of quality grazing land and a reliable water source. Hunt, you always said you wanted a place of your own—now you have it.”
Hunt didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just stared straight ahead. Finally, he spoke, his voice rough. “That son of a bitch.”
Mac smirked sadly. “Yep, that he was.”
Hunt nodded, swallowed hard, then looked down at his hands. He hadn’t known, I realized, and he was touched because this was Nash’s way of acknowledging him as his kin because my father had given him what Hunt would never have asked for, no matter how much he wanted it.