Just when she was starting to get it under control, Mr. Bernard sat back in his oversized leather chair, as if needing to put some distance between them, and that set her off again. The laughter turned into tears, and then into sobs. For the first time since she’d gotten the call to come home and say goodbye, she lost control entirely. She was too busy focusing on her emotional pain to see how the two men in the room were reacting to her outburst, but a box of tissues was pushed into her hand and she accepted them gratefully.
She grabbed a handful and pressed them to her face. Trying to hold back the flood with the cheap tissues didn’t work well but it was better than nothing. It took longer than she liked to get herself under control, and at some point the lawyer left the room and returned with a cup of water which he placed in front of her. He hovered near her, not entirely sure what to do and the awkwardness of that forced her to pull herself out of it.
“Charlie? You okay?” Sam asked, hesitantly, as though he no longer thought he had the right to ask. She didn’t know how she felt about that.
She sniffled and nodded without looking in his direction. “Sorry, I’m not…not usually like this.” Sam knew that, or he should, but she felt like she had to assure Mr. Bernard. She hated being weak, and the fact that this had hit her in front of a near strangerandher ex was humiliating. She controlled her breathing, forcing the breaths in and out slowly as she counted just like her therapist had taught her.
It worked, eventually. It was like slapping a band-aid on a gaping wound, but she was finally able to set the box of tissues down. “I’m sorry. Do you have a washroom?” she asked in a husky voice that sounded raw to her own ears.
She was directed to a small bathroom down the hall and she locked herself in. A quick glance in the mirror made her wince. Her skin was blotchy from the tears and red from the cheap generic tissue she’d been rubbing across her face. She was just lucky she hadn’t been wearing any makeup or she’d have ended up looking like a raccoon. As it was, her swollen eyes made it obvious she’d been crying, and she hated that.
She wasn’t sure why she even cared or why it was so hard for her to show her pain. She’d just buried her father. Anyone would understand that she was entitled to cry over it, but it wasn’t that easy. Admitting you were in pain was like chumming the water. All it did was attract the sharks to the scent of blood. She’d learned that lesson early and far too well to be able to step out of it now.
Visions of her child self being teased and bullied sprang to mind. Kindergarten was the only grade where she’d been the same age as her classmates, and that had only lasted a couple of months. After that she was always the weird little kid, younger and smarter than the rest of the class and a prime target for cruel tricks and words. Funny how being back home brought up all the old memories.
But thinking about the past wasn’t going to help her get things under control. She cupped her hands and let them fill with cool tap water so she could splash her face and then immerse her sore eyes for a few seconds. It helped to reduce the red a bit. Not enough to hide the fact that she’d been crying maybe, but enough to feel calmer.
She was painfully aware that the two men were waiting for her to return, but she intended to ignore that and take the time she needed. She even pulled her comb out of her purse and dragged it through her curls. They didn’t need it, but the act was calming and teamed with some breathing exercises it seemed to help.
By the time she stepped out of the washroom she was in control again. When she settled into her seat across from the lawyer, looking calm and collected, she was ready to pin down the details on what her father had done. Both men seemed relieved to have the waterworks over, and that amused her because a few tears were nothing compared to how difficult she was about to be.
“Now,” she said, “let’s go over this again from the beginning. Read the will, please. All of it.” There was ice in her tone, and she settled back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest with a fierce look on her face. If there wasanyway out of this, she was going to find it. And if she was stuck with the situation, well, Mr. Bernard and Sam were both going to regret having to deal with her because when it came to the ranch, she was ready to fight.
If he had any thought of arguing with her, one look at her face changed his mind, and he reluctantly flipped back to the first page of the will and began to read. This time he didn’t paraphrase or explain her father’s wishes, he just read them word for word while she listened. Mostly she was silent, occasionally she stopped him to ask a question but she was busy listening for loopholes that she could use to get around the document.
By the time he reached the last page, her lips were pursed like she was tasting something sour, and there was an angry glitter in her eyes as she cut him off before he could finish. “Why the hell would he do this to me?” she demanded. She didn’t really expect an answer. It was a rhetorical question borne out of frustration, but he settled the papers in front of him and prepared to answer her anyway.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that information. Your father never confided in me as far as his reasons for the instructions. However, he did leave a sealed letter with me that was to be given to you after the reading of the will. I assume some of the answers you’re looking for will be in there.”
“Well, let’s have it then,” she said, sighing. Whatever answers were in it weren’t likely to make her happy but at least she could hope for an explanation.
“The instructions were to give it to you once the paperwork was signed. He felt you might prefer to read it privately.” He was looking nervous, and he probably thought she’d burst into tears again if she read it in his office.
It didn’t really matter where she read it, so she accepted it with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Anything else?”
“There is one last codicil. It’s a bit unusual and I’m not . . .” He stopped, and it seemed like he was trying to gather the courage to continue. One hand went up to smooth his thinning hair in a nervous gesture, and then he continued, “Thereisa way around the education clause, but I don’t think you’re going to like it. It’s legal but a bit archaic.”
She slumped back in her seat and blew out a loud breath of exasperation as she stared up at the ceiling. Of course, she wasn’t going to like it! She hadn’t liked any of this and it kept getting worse, and at this point she really wanted to get it over with so she could go home. “Let’s hear it then,” she said without straightening to look at him.
“Well, Ms. McGee, your father had some very definite ideas about your future, but he was aware that certain circumstances could occur that might make it awkward for Mr. Mason to have full control of the ranch so in the circumstance that you marry…” He paused to clear his throat. “If you should marry then that would supersede the education clause and you would then become an equal partner in the management…after a year.”
Her head snapped up and she stared at him. “What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, it’s right here on the last page. I suppose if you want the ranch, you’ll have to get your degree or get married.”
“Great. And even then, I still have to share it with him?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder in Sam’s direction, but kept her eyes on the lawyer.
“Well, not necessarily.” He looked thoughtful, tilting his head and idly flipping through the pages of the will without reading them. “It seems that once you take over as an equal partner and there are no longer any restrictions, then at that point you could try to convince Mr. Mason to sell his share to you. He isn’t obligated to do so, of course.”
Sam made a snorting sound that she chose to ignore since he wasn’t actually speaking up. If she could reach that point, she had no doubt that she could make his life miserable until he gave in and sold out. He’d probably be glad to get out of Dodge if she really put her mind to chasing him off. But marriage wasn’t something she’d considered. She wasn’t even dating anyone.
“I don’t suppose I actually have to stay married, do I?” she asked in a musing tone. Already her mind was working on a plan.
“Ah, yes, well, you are required to be married for at least one year. At the end of the year you get your controlling interest and then it would be entirely up to you. Of course, you’d need to consider what you might lose in a divorce. It could get complicated. I would definitely suggest a pre-nuptial agreement.”
“For fuck’s sake…you’ve got to be kidding me, Dad!” It was said through gritted teeth. Her fingers were digging so hard into the padded arm of her chair that it would probably show the marks afterwards. As usual Jimmy McGee was one step ahead of her, closing those loopholes before she even had a chance to step through.
He must have guessed where her mind would go. He was wily like that and she’d never managed to get away with much. Still, Mr. Bernard was her father’s lawyer, not hers, so maybe she’d have better luck if she went and hired herself someone to represent her. Possibly the will could be broken but she had a feeling the odds of that weren’t great.
