Chapter Twenty
Once she’d calmed down, Brett had left Trish back at the cemetery alone. He felt like she might have needed a little more time with her father. And maybe with herself and her thoughts.
He’d needed some time and distance away from her, too. Seeing how upset she’d been, he’d gotten angry. Not with her but with Frank. His friend had definitely made mistakes with his daughter. He’d let his pride and stubbornness keep them apart.
That pride and stubbornness were two traits that Brett had in common with Frank, and which had helped them to understand each other so well. But what did that mean for Brett? Would he miss out on things because he was too stubborn to change his mind once he’d made it up?
He needed to think about that with a clear head. And he never had a clear head around Trish. He needed to get back to the Four Corners and on the back of his horse. A ride in the fresh air might clear his mind.
But when he arrived at the ranch, he found an unfamiliar vehicle parked in it. It wasn’t as big as the lawyer’s Hummer, but it was a long black town car. A limousine at the Four Corners? It looked even more out of place than the Hummer had.
Everyone else must have been out working the ranch or away because the town car was running. Once he jumped out of his truck, the chauffeur stepped out and opened the back door.
A man came out first. He was probably only ten or fifteen years older than Brett, but he had a lot of silver in his hair and lines in his face. He reached in and helped out a woman. She was slim and blonde with a face stretched taut, but she was definitely older than the man.
“Where is my daughter?” she demanded of him.
He arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Where is Patricia?”
He glanced back toward the road, but he was really hoping that Trish was taking her time in town. He didn’t want her coming back to deal with her mother after how emotional she’d been at her father’s grave. It would be too much for her.
“She’s not here,” he said. “So you have no reason to be.”
“What did you do to her?” her mother asked, as if he’d murdered the woman that he…
He what?
He couldn’t finish that thought. He wouldn’t let himself.
“Trish is fine,” he said. Or at least he hoped she was. He cursed himself now for leaving her alone.
“Where is she?” the man asked. “She’s my wife.”
“Ex-wife,” he automatically corrected him.
And the man’s pale face flushed. “That was a mistake. She must have realized that by now.”
Brett laughed at the man’s arrogance. He reminded Brett way too much of the neurosurgeon Livvy had dated. “She knows her only mistake was in marrying you in the first place,” he told him.
The guy clenched his hand into a fist, and Brett braced himself for a blow. But the guy didn’t swing.
“And who are you to Patricia?” her mother asked.
“Her partner,” Brett said.
Her mother snorted. “She knows better than to fall for a ranch hand ever again.”
“He’s not a ranch hand, Aunt Belinda,” Frankie said. She must have come from the barn because she’d walked up without anyone noticing.
Belinda looked Frankie up and down, and her mouth twisted into a sneer. “I am not your aunt,” she said. “And he is not Patricia’s partner.”
“You’re right about us,” Frankie said. “And I am grateful we’re no longer related. But you’re wrong about Brett. He is Trish’s partner, and he’s mine, too.”
Trish’s mother gasped as if horrified.
“You’re thinking the wrong kind of partner,” Brett said, taking pity on the uptight woman. “Frankie, Trish, my brothers and I are all equal partners in the Four Corners now.”
“Well, I’ll have you know that we will be taking legal action to change that.”
Dust billowed as a truck barreled down the drive toward them.
It stopped abruptly behind his, and Trish clamored out.
He stepped closer to her mother and ex, trying to shield her from them.
Dealing with them was the last thing she needed right now.
And he was worried about her talking to them in the state she’d been in when he’d seen her last.
Frankie had thought she was vulnerable before, but she was especially vulnerable now. Before she’d needed protection against him; now she needed it from him.
“Go in the house,” he told her. “Frankie and I will get rid of the trespassers. I’ll call the sheriff if they won’t leave.”
“Call the sheriff,” her mother said. “You should be arrested for the con you pulled on my daughter and on my gullible ex-husband.”
“Stop!”
* * *
Trish uttered the one word like she had the day that Nolan Stokes had been fighting with her partners. And like on that day, everyone fell silent with shock for a moment. Her shouting had to be even more of a shock for Harold and her mother than it had been for the others.
“My father was not gullible,” Trish said first. Her heart still felt raw from her visit to his grave. She glanced at Brett. “He was stubborn and proud but not stupid.”
“Still idolizing your daddy,” her mother remarked bitterly.
“No,” Trish said. “I see him clearly for who he was.” She stepped around Brett, who’d tried wedging himself between her and the visitors. “And I see the two of you very clearly, too.” She had no doubt about why they’d shown up here.
“So you’ve come to your senses,” Harold said. “You’re ready to come home.”
She snorted. “You don’t want me back. You don’t want them.
” She patted her belly. “You’re only here because you’re afraid of my mother and you’re going to do whatever she tells you to do so you keep your job.
” She lifted her chin and studied her beautiful mother.
“And I get it, Harold, because I think I was afraid of her, too. I never wanted to disappoint her, but it was all I ever seemed to do.”
“Never more so than now,” Belinda said. She gestured at Trish’s belly. “You did this to yourself…and then you insisted on that messy divorce.”
“It was only messy because you kept telling Harold to fight me,” she said.
“But you hired that fancy lawyer, Nolan Stokes,” Belinda said. “Now I know how you were able to afford him. He knew you were due to inherit the Four Corners soon.”
“He started the divorce proceedings before Dad died,” Trish pointed out. “He didn’t know.”
“But your dad died before the divorce was final,” Harold said, “so you cheated me out of my share.”
Trish snorted. “You weren’t in my father’s will. He didn’t want me to marry you, and he was right. And he was right to split up the ranch like he did, too.”
“We’ll see about that,” Belinda said. “As a former deed owner, I should have had the rights of survivorship. This should be mine.”
“Former,” Trish said. “You’re not on the deed now.
The five of us are.” She gestured at Frankie and Brett, who’d been curiously quiet.
“It’s done. There’s nothing the two of you can do to get your greedy hands on it.
So you better leave, or I will have Brett call the sheriff to cite you for trespassing.
Sheriff Cassidy is his cousin, so he would be happy to do that. ”
“What happened to you, Patricia?” her mother asked, her voice sharp with disapproval.
Trish smiled. “I’m not afraid of you anymore, Mother. I don’t care what you think of me.”
“And this man…” Her mother shook a perfectly manicured finger in Brett’s direction. “A ranch hand—”
“He’s not a ranch hand,” Trish said. “He’s my partner.”
“He’s like your father.”
“Yes,” Trish agreed. “A hardworking, honorable man.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. He’s not. And you’re not honorable either, Patricia. How you handled the divorce is despicable. Fraud even. Harold and I will be taking you to court.”
Finally, her mother turned and stiffly folded herself back into the limo.
Harold quickly followed her like the lapdog he was.
The chauffeur slammed the door behind them and shot an apologetic glance at her before getting into the driver’s seat.
He backed slowly past them and their vehicles and back onto the road.
As the limo drove off, all the tension drained from Trish’s body.
“Wow!” Frankie exclaimed. “You were fierce, Trish.”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“You really were,” Brett said. “You didn’t need us at all.”
She only wished that were true, but she was very afraid that she needed him much too much.
* * *
“That visit was sure a surprise,” Sadie said with a smile as Bob drove off. Lem stood next to her on the porch staring after his son with such love and yearning. She squeezed his hand. “You can’t worry about the years you lost,” she reminded him. “Just about the time you have now.”
He nodded. “You are so wise.”
“That’s not exactly what you used to call me,” she said. “Wisecracker. Wisea—”
He chuckled. “You can’t worry about the years you lost…”
“No, we can’t,” she said.
He sighed. “We can worry about now, though,” he said. “And I’m worried about Bob.”
“And he’s worried about Brett,” Sadie said. “Do you think we should be doing some scheming?”
“You aren’t already?” he asked.
She chuckled. He knew her so well. “I was thinking about having another party.”
“My birthday is over,” he said. “And yours was months ago. What will we celebrate?”
“Whom,” she said. “Whom will we celebrate…”
“You obviously have some idea.”
“Of course.” She patted his arm, then she leaned down and nuzzled her cheek against his soft white beard.
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure that there is no reason for anyone to worry about anyone…
” But a little flutter of nerves passed through her stomach.
She hoped that she wasn’t making her husband a promise she couldn’t keep.