Page 44 of Roaring Fork Rockstar (Roaring Fork Ranch #3)
Flynn
M y heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the manila envelope on Richard “Six-pack” Langley’s conference table.
I’d seen one just like it four times before.
Once for each of my siblings. And the documents inside had irrevocably altered their lives, uprooted their plans, and forced them to follow directives from an anonymous trustee we now suspected our mother had appointed before she died.
I glanced around at my brothers, watching as they traded meaningful looks.
All had taken their turns, sacrificing a year of their lives to save our family’s ranch—our inheritance—by fulfilling the obligations set forth in the Roaring Fork Trust. When their respective time was up, we’d been called to gather in this same office, hoping it was over, only to learn it wasn’t.
With Holt’s three-hundred-and-sixty-five-day stint recently completed, we’d been summoned again. I couldn’t help but wonder if the trust had one final test—for me.
I absentmindedly twisted my wedding ring, thinking of Irish—the love of my life. While I waited to learn my fate, he was at home with our twin boys, Paxon and Rooker, and our four-month-old baby girl, who we’d named Rowan Patricia.
Six-pack cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Thank you all for coming.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Buck snapped. “Are we here because we’re done or to learn what impossible task our sister will be forced to do?”
The attorney’s expression remained neutral as he pulled out a single sheet of paper. “I’ve received instructions from the Roaring Fork Trust LLC regarding the final codicil.”
“Goddammit,” Buck swore under his breath while I held mine, watching Six-pack’s lips form the words that would dictate the next chapter of my life.
“It reads as follows, ‘The Roaring Fork Trust further stipulates that Flynn Marie Wheaton Warrick, along with her husband, Paxon Warrick, and their children, must travel to Sangre Vista Guest Ranch in Taos, New Mexico.’”
My brothers tensed around me.
“Unlike the previous stipulations,” Six-pack continued, “Flynn is required to arrive by December 23 of this year and remain until January 23.”
“A month?” Porter echoed, disbelief in his voice. “That’s it?”
I frowned, waiting for more. “What am I supposed to do there?”
“The codicil only specifies that you and your family must stay at the ranch for the specified period. No additional requirements are listed.”
“This is suspiciously simple,” Holt muttered, echoing my thoughts.
“Who owns this ranch?” Cord asked, leaning forward in his chair.
Six-pack shook his head. “I don’t have that information. All I know is that it’s a guest ranch and you’ve been instructed to travel there with your family and spend the holidays.”
The familiar threat hung unspoken in the air. The entire Roaring Fork Ranch—50,000 acres, the legacy of generations—gone if I didn’t take a month-long vacation. It seemed absurd.
“Is there anything else we need to know?” I asked in a voice steadier than I expected.
“Only that all expenses for your stay have been arranged. You’ll find a confirmation email with the details in your inbox.”
Buck stood abruptly. “Then, we’re done here.”
“Thank you,” I said to Six-pack before filing out of the office and onto the sidewalk, where my brothers formed a protective circle around me. Snow had begun to fall, the flakes catching in my hair.
“This is weird,” I said once we were out of earshot. “Why would I only need to stay a month when all of you had to commit to a full year?”
“And why New Mexico?” Porter added.
Cord rubbed his chin. “When I had to spend my year in New York, it turned out there was a family connection through Mom that none of us knew about.”
“You think there’s someone at this ranch connected to us?” I asked as we walked to our vehicles.
“Let’s talk about this at home,” said Buck, motioning for me to ride with him and instructing Cord and Porter to go with Holt.
I was ten when my oldest brother left Colorado—then believing it was for good.
So it wasn’t until three years ago, when he received instructions from the first codicil, demanding that he spend a year living on our ranch, that he and I really got to know each other.
Now, I couldn’t imagine very many days going by without talking to him.
Especially since his son and my twins were the same age.
“What are you thinking?” I asked a few minutes into our drive.
“The Roaring Fork Trust was registered in New Mexico.”
“I forgot all about that.” I gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. “Do you think my being summoned there has anything to do with the mystery trustee?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Six-pack did say, ‘the final codicil.’ It could mean they’re ready to reveal themselves.”
“I’d like to think so,” said Buck. “Not that anything else to do with it has been that simple.”
When we reached the ranch house before our brothers did, Irish was waiting on the porch, holding Rooker while Paxon toddled around his feet. My heart swelled at the sight of them.
“What happened?” he asked.
“It’s almost too good to be true,” I said as the four of us went inside. “We have to spend an all-expenses-paid month on a ranch in New Mexico. Oh, and we have to leave in two days.”
My husband’s eyebrows flared. “Two days? That means we’ll be there for Christmas.”
“And New Year’s.”
“What’s the name of the place?” he asked, opening his laptop.
“Sangre Vista Guest Ranch.” I looked over his shoulder when he pulled up the website. “Wow,” I said at the same time Holt, Cord, Porter, and Buck walked in.
“Wow, what?” Cord asked.
We all huddled around Irish as he scrolled through the photos. The property was nestled in the mountains outside Taos and had luxury cabins, gourmet dining, spa services, and horseback riding—it looked like something from a travel magazine.
“Well, sis,” Buck said with a warm smile, “I don’t know what this is all about, but at least the place looks nice. I guess it’ll be up to us to hold things together here while you’re gone.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Like any of you would have complained about a month-long vacation.”
“Would have been nice,” Porter agreed with a gentle laugh. “But we’re just glad yours seems shorter than what we went through.”
Despite their teasing, we all knew one thing for certain—this wasn’t just about a vacation. The trust had been orchestrating our lives too carefully for that.
Later that day, my sisters-in-law joined us for a family dinner. The thought that I wouldn’t be with them Christmas Eve or Day, made me weepy. Last year was the first time we’d all celebrated together, and it was the kind of family celebration I used to dream about as a kid.
“So, New Mexico,” said Irish. “Has anyone in your family ever mentioned connections there?”
Buck repeated what he’d said earlier about the trust being registered there. “That’s the reason the trustee can legally remain anonymous. It’s one of the only states that allows it.”
Irish nodded thoughtfully. “We should check with Ashford and see if he can dig up anything on this ranch.”
I’d met the man a few times but hadn’t really had many conversations with him. All I knew was that if you wanted information about anyone or anything, he could usually get his hands on it.
“Already on it,” Buck said, phone to his ear. “Hey, Deck. Need a favor…”
While he talked, I opened my laptop to check the email Six-pack had mentioned. Sure enough, there was a reservation confirmation for a two-bedroom luxury cabin at Sangre Vista, all-expenses paid, from December 23 to January 23.
“We don’t have much time before we have to leave,” I murmured.
Irish rested his hand on mine. “We’ll be ready. I can pack the boys and me tonight.”
I turned my hand to squeeze his, grateful for his unwavering support. Three years ago, when the trust first revealed itself, I never could have imagined being married, with twin boys. Now, I couldn’t imagine facing this without them.
“What do you think is waiting for us there?” I asked softly.
Irish’s eyes met mine. “I don’t know. But your brothers all found something they needed while fulfilling their obligations. Maybe you will too.”
“Well,” I said, standing and lifting Rooker from Irish’s arms. “Whatever’s waiting for us at this swanky place, I’ve got a day and a night to prepare. And, honestly, if all I have to do is spend a month at a luxury ranch with my family to save our inheritance, I think I can manage that.”
My brothers laughed, but their eyes held the same question I knew was in mine.