Page 5 of Baker (Bastian Brothers #1)

Chapter Three

A s with most important things, the will was read around the kitchen table.

Granny had a chicken roasting in the oven, carrots and potatoes stuffed into the old metal roasting pan with the meat.

Bread had been baked yesterday to sop up the gravy she’d make from the drippings.

We’d hauled a few folding chairs in from the hall closet but left the card table stashed away.

Granny liked to host poker parties once a month with the old gals from the Lilac Hills Home for Independent Living.

Noreen Piller’s wheelchair didn’t fit through the narrow kitchen doorway, so they played in the living room.

Our old house was built way before people cared about handicapped folk.

Crippling silence hung in the air like fetid smoke as we waited for Milton to find his glasses and then stir some cream into his cup of coffee.

My siblings all looked tense. Bella, seated next to Ford, seemed at ease, but then again, she should be.

Nothing discussed here today would affect her at all.

“I can bring out more cookies,” Granny offered as Milt removed a legal document from inside a leather case that was cracked and faded from age and the sun.

“We’re good.” Linc smiled at my grandmother nervously.

“Well, shout if you want something to snack on,” she tacked on and settled back into her seat.

“Milton, you think we could get to it?” I asked, eager to clear the table—and my house—of these reminders of what a shit my father had been. They, too, seemed ready to get things rolling.

Rheumy blue eyes glanced at me over the top of smudged glasses. “You can’t rush the law.”

Dodge and Ford exchanged looks.

“Right, but maybe we can goose her? It’s going to be dark soon,” I threw out in the hopes that Milt would not want to drive home in the dark.

His eyes rounded. “Oh damn, well, we best get going. I’ve not had my cataract surgery yet, so driving at night makes me squint.” Bella gave me a tiny smile as the ancient lawyer began to read from the paperwork in front of him. The tension in the room was as thick as wood smoke.

“I, Cashman Delaney Bastian, of Rural Route 89 Box 4, Bastian Grange, Oklahoma, am of sound mind and not under duress or undue influence. I fully understand the nature and extent of all my property and its distribution.” Milton took a moment to slurp down some coffee and cough a few times before continuing.

“I am making this my final will and testament. In lieu of leaving the ranch named at the address above to any one child, I leave it to all four of my sons—Studebaker, Dodge, Lincoln, and Ford Bastian—to oversee its care and steward it into the next generation of Bastians with one proviso: My mother, Eleanor Alice Bastian, wife of William Frank Bastian, is to be allowed to live at the ranch until she passes over or wishes to move to the Lilac Hills Home in Bastian Grange.”

“He wasn’t all bad,” Granny whispered as a few tears ran down her weathered cheek. Linc handed her his hanky as Bella rubbed her bowed back. “Just mostly,” she threw out at the end.

“So there is a small personal note at the end,” Milt uncomfortably said while glancing at the four Bastian brothers sitting at the table. “If you wish to read it yourselves…”

“Nope, read it aloud. Whatever he has to say to us is probably bullshit anyway,” I blurted out, instantly feeling like a jerk as my grandmother, eyes still dewy, morosely nodded along.

The other three with half my blood bobbed their heads.

Whether it was in agreement with Milt reading the final words from Cash or to my saying whatever Cashman had to say was a steaming pile of crap, I didn’t know for sure, but the vibe was strong for the bullshit comment.

“As you wish,” Milt took another sip of coffee.

“To my four sons. I guess if you’re all gathered together with Milt, I’ve died.

Your mothers are probably dancing in the streets as are you boys.

I know I was a shit father, husband, and partner to all of you and your moms, but I hope you can understand that some men just aren’t made to be tied down. ”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dodge muttered. Yeah, that was my thinking exactly. Linc grumbled something under his breath. Ford sat silently beside Bella, his expression tight and hard to read. “What a load of utter shit.”

“Now, Dodge, let Milt finish so he can get home before it gets dark,” Granny said, and the ginger bowed his head and whispered an apology. “Go on, Milt. I know Edith is keeping your dinner warm for you.”

“Yes, she is. Pork chops and applesauce,” Milt informed us. We all muttered something about yummy food and waited for him to get back to reading. “Right. Yes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Where was I?”

“Men being tied down,” Linc spoke up in that deep bass voice of his.

“Oh yes, tied down. There it is. Ahem, so, men aren’t meant to be tied down.

I did my best to be the father that you all needed, but I failed miserably, just like I failed your mothers.

I know you all couldn’t care less about a final request from me, but if you four could find it in your hearts to mend the family ranch that I left in Baker’s hands, I would appreciate it.

If you can’t bring yourselves to help make the ranch what it used to be for me, do it for my mom.

I did love you all, and I hope you can come to love each other. Goodbye, boys. Dad.”

We sat in stilted silence for a few minutes. The timer went off on the oven, spurring us to all shake off the dump truck of emotion that had been parked on our shoulders. Ford seemed the most upset, his face a mask of sadness that the rest of us seemed to be lacking.

“That’s the chicken,” Granny said after clearing her throat. “Milton, thank you for handling all of this for us.”

“My pleasure. There are some odds and ends to be attended to by the boys. Bills and such that Cash left behind, that sort of thing. I’ll leave them here in the folder with your copy of the will.” We all stood.

I escorted Milt out the door and to his car after slipping him a check for half of his legal fees.

I hated to even look in that folder to see what kind of bills Cash had left behind for me to take care of.

Just like everything else here on the ranch, he just threw his responsibilities onto me.

Mom, Granny, the ranch, and now whatever asinine bills he had run up since he had run off on Ford’s mother ten years ago.

If it were possible to hate some more, I couldn’t see how.

“Thanks for handling all of that for us, Milt. I’ll have the final half of your fee to you next month,” I said as I opened his car door for him. He sat down with a huff, his tan tie sporting a fresh coffee stain.

“No rush, Baker. I’m sorry there wasn’t more for you boys and your grandmother. Cash wasn’t good for much, but he was good at making others clean up his messes.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I gave him a wan smile, thumped the roof of his car, and then closed the door.

He took off like a bat out of hell. I watched with trepidation as he sped down the driveway, praying he wouldn’t take out the paddock fencing.

He’d been known to wipe out mailboxes now and again.

Once he was off my property, I took a moment to tip my head back to stare at the stars just starting to appear in the sky.

The horizon behind the mountains was purple and indigo, tinged with pink, the moon not yet in sight.

It was times like these that I really missed having someone at my side to hold my hand as we worked through the garbage life heaped on you.

A wife, a husband. Hell, just a boyfriend would be nice.

Right about now, I would take a dog to sleep at my feet.

It got damn lonely on this ranch with only a gun-toting octogenarian for company.

“Hey,” a man called, startling me out of at least a full year of life.

“Fuck,” I gasped as Hanley ambled out of the shadows of the stables into the soft glow of the front porch light.

“Whistle or something.” A jaunty smile pulled at his lips before he puckered.

I stood there in shock as he warbled just like an indigo bunting, one of Mom’s favorite birds.

“Very good. Maybe make it something that lets a soul know a man is leaping out of the dark at them.”

“I’m not sure I leaped, but fair enough. Next time you’ll know it’s me coming.”

“Appreciate that.” I leaned on the post, arms folded, and crossed my right foot over my left as the sound of laughter from inside leaked around the screen door. It needed new weather stripping badly. Job ten thousand two on the Baker Bastian To-Do List. “What can I do you for?”

“Ollie strongly suggested that I come visit you this evening to ensure that permission to range your lands to take pictures was given before I started snapping. To be honest, I was going to do that tomorrow after I scouted a bit, but when a lawman the size of Sheriff Ahoka recommends you do something, I tend to do as proposed. Saves me a lot of time calling my agent to get me out of a local lockup.”

“You get locked up often?” I asked, the tip of my nose and ears growing chilly as we conversed as if I didn’t have something important to do inside.

Something about this wandering wildlife photographer made me feel settled.

Perhaps it was his lazy way of speaking as if he had all the time in the world. Must be nice.