Chapter 8
Lacey
“Hey, Mrs. Gillard. Has my brother arrived yet?”
“Good morning, Lacey. No, he has not, but Marcus is waiting on you in the conference room upstairs. Go ahead and go on up, sweetheart.”
I smile, “Thank you.”
Taking the staircase to the second floor of the duplex, I try to calm my nerves as I reach for the doorknob of the room to my left.
Thankfully, no one is inside yet. Finding a seat on the opposite side of the room where the other head of the table is, I take a seat, lacing my fingers together to keep myself from shaking so badly. It’s cool in here, but I am not shaking because of the temperature in this room.
Our mother did not discuss her will with us. She promised us that it was all taken care of, and Marcus would handle it all when it was given to us. She wouldn’t go into any detail, and she would always change the subject when I would say, ‘Mama, I need to know.’
So why do I feel like there is something going on that I should have been warned about beforehand? I knew my mother well enough to know she did something she knew my brother, or I, wouldn’t like.
The door jerks open and my brother looks like he could knock someone out.
“Carson, what is it?”
“Beckett won’t leave this town.”
I think about telling him he has been staying in the cottage, but the way my brother looks right now, I think better of it.
“Maybe he is going to leave soon,” I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with. I need to get back home. Lexie’s bringing the filly today.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot that filly is being dropped off today. I didn’t even think when Marcus called about today.”
I nod. “It’s fine. Hopefully this won’t take long.”
I wanted to get back into breaking horses. Something I loved to do when my father was still alive. He used to say I was able to tame an animal better than any of his ranch hands.
Before our mother got sick, I bought this filly before she was even born. Now she is old enough to break, and the owner is friends with a friend of mine from high school, so she is dropping her off with me today.
“Morning Carson and Lacey.” Marcus, our lawyer and Carson’s friend from high school, comes in the door with a folder full of papers.
He shakes Carson’s hand before he takes a seat, and Carson takes one beside me.
“I want to wait a few minutes if that is okay,” Marcus says and then smiles. “Can I get either of you some water or something to eat?”
“No, thank you,” I tell him.
“Why are we waiting?” Carson asks him with a raised eyebrow.
He opens his folder, shuffling through some papers and envelopes. “We are expecting one more person.”
Carson looks at me. “We are the only children. Who else could possibly have stake of our mother’s will?”
His question is answered when Beckett King walks in the door.