Chapter 11
aria
The formal living room, which Mama called the piano room, was her showpiece—exposed beams, iron chandeliers, and oversized windows that framed the distant ridges like artwork.
The fireplace is cold, though the embers from a morning fire still scent the room faintly of ash and pine. But we don’t need it right now, as the afternoon sun streaming through the windows is warming the room nicely.
There’s an antique serving cart set with coffee and petit fours. Mama’s favorite China. White with blue florals. Delicate.
I settle into an armchair, so as not to cram myself between Earl and Nadine, who have taken a couch.
Mav and Celine sit across from them on a matching couch, the picture window behind them.
He’s in dark jeans, boots, and a navy button-down. My sister is in black with glittering diamonds. She tilts toward him. His dark to her light.
They look like a couple. They probably are, considering I just saw them in each other’s arms.
I decided to dress for Longhorn in black jeans that still fit me and a maroon silk blouse I’d planned to wear for the wedding reception with a flowing black skirt.
Since my suitcase only has pumps and sandals, ideal for a bridesmaid, I put on a pair of my old cowboy boots, which are still ridiculously comfortable.
For the first time in years, sitting in this ridiculously decorated room, I feel like myself.
I’m at Longhorn. I’m home.
Hudson is not here. I feel relief. I don’t want to deal with him. What I’ve noticed and learned from Nadine and Vera is that he’s an alcoholic. After Papa fired him for stealing, it looks like he went on a downward slide.
Mac is setting up at what Mama called her writing desk—a delicate French secrétaire with tapered legs and a roll-top cover that never quite closed all the way.
It wasn’t built for business or books but for the quiet elegance of handwritten letters, perfumed stationery, and a crystal inkwell that once held more sentiment than ink.
It looks out of place now, covered in legal folders and Mac’s leather bag.
When he came in he’d pointedly asked Maverick, “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
Celine had clung to him, a single tear shimmering down her cheek like she was auditioning for the role of tragic heroine. “I need him here. Mav’s been so supportive. Emotionally, I mean. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Hudson storms in and looks around the room. He leers when he sees his wife with Maverick. He flops down in the chair next to me, which is close enough so I can smell the bourbon on his breath.
“Shouldn’t you sit with your wife?” I suggest.
I don’t want him here, stinking up my space.
This man is unrecognizable from the man who discarded me.
“There was a time when you wanted me around,” he mocks.
Mac looks up from what he’s doing. I shake my head to let him know I’m okay. He shrugs and goes back to his papers.
“Alright, so, let’s get this started, yeah?” Mac gets comfortable in a desk chair Earl dragged in from Papa’s office, when he refused to sit on the pink velvet one that paired with the secrétaire.
A cowboy has to draw a line somewhere!
Celine makes a sound. It’s a sob. Then she dramatically leans her forehead against Maverick’s arm.
Earl snorts.
Nadine shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
What in God’s name is going on?
I glance at Maverick. He doesn’t seem perturbed at all as he bends his head and whispers something to Celine.
Hudson chuckles softly. “You not gonna say what goes around comes around?”
I turn to face Hudson, not sure what the hell he means.
His lips curl into a mockery of a smile. “She’s doin’ to me what I did to you.”
I just managed to calm my migraine down. This kind of bullshit is not what I need to be driven into my own personal pain house again.
“She’s fuckin’ him in front of God and everyone,” he says with scorn.
His tone is low. Even he doesn’t want to announce to the world that he knows he’s a cuckold.
“She got what she wanted,” he continues, staring across the room at Celine and Maverick.
I lean back in my chair and hope that Mac will get started so Hudson will shut the fuck up.
“I made a mistake.” He leans closer to me, his lips all but brushing against my ear. Before I can move, he adds, “I married the wrong sister.”
I get up.
Fast.
The heavy armchair’s legs scrape loud against the wooden floor.
Both Nadine and Earl shift to either side of the couch to make room for me.
Celine’s glare follows me, but I ignore it. I don’t even bother to look at Maverick. I can only imagine what he’s thinking, not that he has a higher moral ground, considering he’s sleeping with a married woman out in the open.
Disgusting!
“Everyone settled?” Mac asks dryly, looking around the room. “If anyone needs to tinkle, now’s the time.”
“Tinkle?” I raise an eyebrow, amused.
He smiles. “I got grandkids.”
He looks around to see if anyone wants to speak or tinkle. Then he adjusts the stack of papers and clears his throat. “As per the decedent’s explicit instruction, I am to read the entirety of the last will and testament verbatim, without summary or omission.”
I lick my lips and exhale, feeling acid churn in my stomach.
What if Papa didn’t remember me at all? Forgot I existed? This will be the ultimate rejection. He’ll be sayin’ that even on his last breath, I didn’t mean much to him.
“I, Rami Ignacio Delgado, being of sound mind and body, and acting of my own free will, do hereby declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, revoking all wills and codicils previously made by me.”
He finishes that by reading the date out loud when the will was signed and notarized.
Silence falls in the room, only disturbed by some heavy breathing, the clearing of a throat, and some excessive sighing by Hudson.
“Article One. Specific Bequests. To Celine Frances Delgado-Williams, my youngest daughter, I bequeath full ownership of the Aspen apartment located in the Crandall Building, as well as all personal property and furnishings therein. I also bequeath to her the entirety of her mother’s jewelry collection, stored in the safe at Longhorn Ranch. ”
Celine gasps, hand to her heart. Her fingers curl around Maverick’s sleeve. “Mama’s things,” she whispers. “Oh my God.”
Mac doesn’t pause. “To Aria Soledad Delgado, my eldest daughter, I bequeath the primary residence known as the Longhorn Ranch house in full and without encumbrance. I also leave to her my collection of ranch ledgers, journals, and historical documents, which I hope she will find helpful—or at the very least, honest.”
I swallow.
Celine hisses something, but I don’t pay attention to it, can’t hear over the ringing in my ears.
He didn’t forget me.
Papa didn’t forget me.
Nadine pats my hand, and when I look at her, shocked, she smiles.
“I told you,” she breathes.
Mac doesn’t wait for us to digest the information he just delivered.
He keeps going, “To Earl Cotter, my lifelong friend and foreman, I bequeath the north bunkhouse, along with five acres of land surrounding it, to be held in fee simple. He is entitled to full ownership, and no heirs or assigns may contest this gift. Earl, may this patch of earth give you rest and pride in your remaining years.”
Earl grunts. His eyes go soft. “The sumbitch said he’d take care of me. Didn’t think he would…but….”
I grab his hand and squeeze, happy that Papa did this for Earl.
“To Nadine Brewer, who has stood beside this family with grit and grace, I bequeath the orchard cottage and five acres around it, to be held in full ownership. Nadine, may you live the rest of your days with the dignity and independence you’ve more than earned.”
Nadine squeals, which is a remarkable sound, considering what a hard ass she is.
I grin. “I should’ve recorded that.”
She smiles sadly.
Mac’s voice goes low and ominous. “To Hudson Williams, I leave nothing. You are not my blood, nor have you honored my name or my daughter.”
Hudson chortles. “Son of a gun! Even after his death, the old man has it in for me.” He raises his glass as if in a toast. “To you, old man, I hope you’re burning in hell.”
“Stop it,” Celine cries out. “Stop it.”
“Oh, cut the act, Celine. He didn’t leave you the ranch house, and God knows you tried to make him.”
“Moving on…,” Mac grumbles, silencing anyone else who thinks they want to give Hudson a piece of their mind.
“All remaining assets—including the farm, equipment, vehicles, livestock, accounts, and debts associated with the Longhorn Ranch operation—are to be divided equally between my two daughters, Aria Soledad Delgado and Celine Frances Delgado-Williams, in equal shares.”
Celine sobs again. “No! How could he? I’m the one who’s been here, takin’ care of him and—”
“I don’t have time for this.” Mac cuts her histrionics off.
Nadine huffs out a laugh.
He glares at Nadine, who gives him a ‘what can you do’ shrug.
I don’t even peek at Maverick. I don’t care that he’s with Celine. More power to both of them. Two awful people getting together means that they won’t be ruining someone else’s life.
Excellent!
“They are also,” Mac raises his voice, “equally responsible for any remaining debt, liens, or tax liabilities incurred by the estate.”
I start calculating—inheritance tax, asset value, and what this split really means.
“Aria and Celine,” Mac’s tone softens, and I give up the numbers swirling inside my head to listen to my father’s last words.
“I have made mistakes, and I know them now, even if I didn’t always admit them when I should have.
Celine, I promised your mother I’d always protect you, and in doing so, I failed to protect your sister. ”
The gasp from Celine is loud, and is followed by some loud crying.
Mac sighs but doesn’t stop. “Aria, I never stopped loving you, even when pride kept me from saying it. Your ability to feel, your sensitivity, your empathy—I once called those your weaknesses. I was wrong.”
I hold the tears back—years of practice at work. The ache inside me is enormous, and regret is like poison running through my veins.
I should’ve come back earlier.
I shouldn’t have stayed away.
I didn’t do it out of pride. I did it because I was afraid he’d reject me.
I was a coward. I wish I’d been braver.
“Aria, Celine, I hope Longhorn remains in the Delgado name as it has for five generations, but I do not bind you to it. What matters most is that you live with purpose. I hope you both live full lives, learn the right lessons, and it is my fondest wish that you come back to each other as sisters.” Mac pauses, looks at me intently, and holds my gaze.
“Aria, my cowgirl, forgiveness is the hardest thing I’ve ever asked for, and I ask it now of you, with hope, not expectation. ”
I put my hand on my heart because it’s about to leap out of my body.
Silence settles over the room like dust.
I look around the room, feeling like a lost child once again.
The last time was when Papa demanded I leave. This time it’s because he’s asking me to forgive him and stay.
My eyes fall on Celine, who is sobbing, her face buried against Maverick’s shoulder.
He doesn’t hold her.
His blue eyes seek mine. His jaw tightens. He looks like a man for whom something important just clicked into place.
There’s none of the judgment or irritation I’ve come to expect in his expression. He’s looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
I want to gloat, but I can’t. So, I look away, my throat thick.
Because what just happened is not a victory; it’s a reckoning.
And it’s only just begun.