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Elena was smiling, her arms folded, and her stance relaxed. Her hat was on a side table next to her. She looked happy. Again, I wondered if she and Hunt were...? No, it was not possible.
Mac flipped to the next page. “Nash left a letter for you, Duke, but he wants it read aloud.”
My throat went tight. Fiona grabbed my hand, and I let her—but it was Elena I looked at. She met my gaze and offered me a small, steady smile. And somehow, that quiet reassurance settled something in me more than Fiona ever could.
Hunt rose and came to stand next to me, his hand on my shoulder. Nokoni nodded at me. Cal and Roy puttheir hands on their heart to let me know they were with me. All these people who I was going to unemploy soon were supporting me.
Mac cleared his throat and began, "Duke, I know you’re listening to this hating me. Maybe you got a right to. But I hope that somewhere in you, you remember that I am, and always have been, your father. And I love you. You don’t have to believe it, but that don’t make it less true."
The room blurred. I locked my jaw and kept my face blank. I pulled my hand away from Fiona. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t want Fiona. I wanted Elenato hold my hand. I wantedherwith me.
Mac kept reading. “I don’t know what you’ll do with the ranch, my son. Maybe you’ll sell it, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll leave, and maybe you’ll come back. But I hope you come back. I hope you see this place for what it is, for what it was always meant to be—yours.”
I breathed out unevenly. My chest ached.
"I wasn’t a good father. Hell, I was a lousy one. But if there’s anything left of me in you, I hope it’s the part that knows when something is worth holding on to."
I closed my eyes, and then Mac read the last part—the words that split my heart clean in two. "Take care of your mother. She’s always loved you. You’re all she’s got now."
Goddamn him!Goddamn him for saying that, asking that of me when he knew I’d do it anyway—Goddamn him for letting me know that he thought of her, making me hate him less.
Mac flipped through the remaining papers, adjusting his glasses. He picked up an envelope and held it up. “There’s a letter for you, Elena. You’re to read it alone.”
I didn’t let myself react, didn’t let the shock show. He’d left her nothing—at least, nothing monetary. And I knew why. If he had, I would’ve lost my shit because Mama would’ve lost hers. Yet, this woman—the one sitting quietly across from me—was the reason Wilder Ranch still stood, the reason I had something to inherit, something worth millions. She had taken care of my father like a daughter, even when he didn’t deserve it, even when he’d been an ungrateful, bitter bastard to her.
The unfairness of it clawed at me, but I shoved it down.
She doesn’t deserve more.
She didn’t.But the words rang hollow because the truth was, I was being petty, just like Mama. And I fucking hated myself for it.
“What do you think is in the letter?” Fiona mused aloud.
There were a few gasps.
Everyoneturned to look at my girlfriend—some in disgust, some in shock. Out here, you branded your own cattle and minded your own damn business. Asking about a dead man’s private letter wasn’t curiosity—it was nosing where she didn’t belong.
Mac set the envelope aside. Elena didn’t move. Her stance didn’t change. She was stillregaland controlled. Fucking stunning!
Finally, Mac said the last thing that needed saying. “Everything else—every last thing—goes to my son, Duke Patrick Wilder.”
This was my right as his heir, but it felt wrong, bitter, acidic.
“Well, thank God for that,” Fiona mumbled.
“For Christ’s sake.” I glared at her. “Stop talking.”
Some snickers went through the room because, by this point, everyone wanted my woman to shut the fuck up. She didn’t get the ways of ranch country.
But she doesn’t have to, Duke. You’re selling the place.
CHAPTER 19
elena
Once the reading was done, everyone left. As Mac had said, people had stuff they needed to get to.
This was a busy working ranch; we didn’t have the time to sit around and have fucking afternoon tea and finger sandwiches, though Itzel had set up a table, apparently at Fiona’s insistence. Itzel hadn’t bothered telling Fiona that we didn’t do things that way and had just gone along with it.