The Will #3
“Sterling wins,” I said, expecting to see shoulders slump and disappointment spread across my family’s faces. I should have known better. I was met with an array of expressions that ranged from Sterling’s smug grin of triumph to Parker’s amused head shake.
“I told you no one would care,” Hope said, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“Not even a dime?” Forrest asked. “Damn, he was a bastard.”
“You’re not wrong,” I agreed, remembering how furious I’d been the day the will was read. My father had always known how to twist the knife he’d stabbed in my back. “But I wouldn’t take it personally. A lot of the will was a big fuck-you to me.”
“Vintage Dad,” Sterling said. “That’s why I was so sure the trusts were empty. Because in that dumbass video will, he told you to drain our trusts if you needed money. But he was trying to punish you, too. So why would he give you access to a pile of cash?”
“He didn’t,” I confirmed. “He gave me the Manor and the company, but almost every penny of his personal funds went into the trust to maintain Heartstone Manor.”
I looked to Harvey, who slid a folder my way, his face bright with anticipation.
I held up the file. Prentice’s will might have been intended as a fuck-you to me, but finally, I got to make it right.
“Now that the terms of the will are up, Harvey was able to execute a few things on my behalf as the head of the family. I decided to make a few changes to the way things are run. Harvey has some paperwork that some of you will need to sign, but we can do it tomorrow. Today is for fun and celebration. I’ll keep it short.
Tenn and Royal—the Inn at Sawyers Bend is yours.
Quinn, your guide business is yours,” I went on.
“And Avery, you and Finn need to discuss how you want to handle the building the brewery is in, considering his restaurant takes up almost as much space as your brewery these days. But whatever you decide, it’s yours. ”
Avery sent me a blinding grin and said, “I think we can work it out.”
I looked down the table to where Daisy sat beside Royal. “The building that Sweetheart Bakery is in now belongs to you and Grams equally.”
“Griffen,” she said, her dark brows flying up in surprise, “you didn’t need to do that. I’m not your family—”
“A sister-in-law is as good as a sister,” I said, meaning it. “And Grams would have bought the building years ago if Prentice had been willing to sell. I couldn’t do anything about it until the terms of the will were up, but now I can. And I did. So, it’s done.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her dark eyes misty.
“We’ve also made a few other changes. Dad did create trust funds for all of you, though he failed to fund them.
Whether or not he would have added to them later, we’ll never know.
But I did. Nobody’s running off to buy an island in the South Pacific, but there’s enough in all of them to give you some padding.
And if you’re smart with it, it’ll be plenty to cover your growing families.
We also created an educational fund so none of the kids need to worry about tuition for college, trade school—whatever they want to do. ”
“Griffen,” Sterling interrupted, “This is too much. If Dad didn’t leave anything in our trusts, how are you paying for all of this?”
I should have known Sterling would want the details.
I wasn’t going to tell her of the sleepless nights Hope and I had shared as we tried to get a handle on Sawyer Enterprises, our only source of income.
Things had been easier once Royal had come on board, and slowly, we’d not just stabilized the family business, we’d made it thrive.
“That brings me to the next thing we need to talk about,” I said, sending Sterling a wink. “Dad left me Sawyer Enterprises, but no ready cash, assuming I’d run it into the ground when I took over.”
“He was such an asshole,” Quinn muttered, shaking her head.
“True.” I grinned at her. “And, in this case, he was wrong. Sawyer Enterprises is thriving, and Hope, Royal, Harvey, and I put a lot of thought into how to handle the profits. Ultimately, all of you have a share of the company. There are hoops to jump through for anyone who wants an active role, but in terms of profit sharing, everyone gets a cut. A portion of that cut will be diverted into your trust funds and into the educational fund. The remainder of your share goes straight to you. It’s a family business, so it should be a family business. ”
Royal sat back, his arm around Daisy, and shook his head. “Damn, brother, when you go big, you go big.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. I looked around the table, seeing my family—my siblings, their spouses. We’d gone from mistrust and betrayal to this. These people would have my back, no matter what, and I’d do anything to protect them, every single one.
My father had raised us to hate each other.
I hadn’t truly known love, not completely, until Hope.
For me, she was the beginning. And this was what we’d made together.
A family. Not just Stella and Alexander, the sleeping baby strapped to her chest, but everyone here—my brothers and sisters, their husbands and wives and children.
With Harvey, who, with one act, had taken our father and set us free.
“Before we pop the cork on this bottle of champagne,” I said, tipping my head to the bottles chilling in ice that Savannah had set up before we began, “I just want to say how much I love you all.”
My throat got tight, and I swallowed. Keep it together, I ordered myself, because before we celebrated this day we’d been waiting for, I had something to say.
“I know some of you are moving out, and I guess I’ll learn to live with that.
” I smiled, trying to soothe a very real sting at the idea of any of them leaving.
“But I want you to know—all of you, you and yours, will always have a home under this roof. No matter where you go and what you do, this is home, and we’re family.
When I came back here five years ago, I never imagined that we would have this.
” I spread my arms, encompassing the room.
“And as much as I know we’ve all cursed the terms of this will many times over the last five years”—laughter scattered around the table—“I’ve come to think of that will as a gift.
Without it, I never would have come home.
I never would have married Hope.” I looked down at my wife’s beautiful face and smiled.
“And I wouldn’t have all of you. So, on this day—the day we’re all set free—I’d like to make a toast.”
I popped open the champagne bottle, grinning as the cork flew to strike the ceiling far above. I passed the bottle and popped another, sent it down the other side of the table, and waited until every glass had been filled.
“I’d like you to raise your glasses. To our family. Together, we can do anything.”
“To family,” every voice rang back.
And all of a sudden, I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.