Chapter Six #2
Liz loaded the last plate into the dishwasher and straightened her back with a small pop.
Ever since that damned filly had thrown her last month, her lower back screamed at her if she did too much.
She needed to go see a doctor, but it took time away from here, which had been in short supply since Brett had died.
Conversation flowed in from the dining room, short bursts of laughter from Brady, deeper ones from Jake.
Over the course of dinner she had watched Brady happily getting to know his brother.
It was a chance to have a new sibling for both of her brothers, so she was glad it was him bridging the gap.
Brady accepted people easily, which she treasured about him.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and her mother set some glasses on the counter for her.
“He’s nice,” Liz said quietly. “But I expected—”
“Someone less like Brett or Tanner?” her mother replied. “He’s got a temper. I can see it in him. He’s a passionate man. But, yes, he’s nice. City-bred manners.”
Liz snorted in laughter and held a hand up to her mouth. “City-bred? Seriously, Mom.”
“It’s true! These men from the city, they have class, and style, and graces. They need them to swim in the shark-infested waters of the social circles. Out here, a man can be genuinely blunt in his dealings. But in a big place like New York City, well, it is eat or be eaten.”
Liz looked at her mother and quirked an eyebrow. “You have got to stop watching so much television.”
Her mother waved her hands at her, and they both laughed. She looked more relaxed, and a good meal, plus some rest, had brought color back to her face. Liz wondered if the company also had something to do with it.
“So what happens now?” Liz asked, leaning on the counter, her mother taking over putting the glasses in the top rack.
She could just see Brady, leaning back in his chair, talking about god knew what, his cheeks pink from the strong red wine Jake had somehow dug up from their small wine rack at the back of the kitchen.
Brady looked happier than she’d seen him since Brett had died, which was strange, since today had been something that would make any rancher slink away with his tail between his legs.
The will had left them nothing. Yet he seemed relieved, almost celebratory.
Maybe he was just drunk and letting the reality they faced fade away for a while.
“We let Frank do what he has to do. And hopefully, while Jake is here, he can cook for us. I can’t say I would mind,” her mother quipped, patting her stomach. “Rosy may be quite put out tomorrow.”
“But what about you, Mom? How are you going to live? He didn’t even leave you a working checking account.”
Peony, her stalwart, no-nonsense mother, turned to her daughter with one of those looks that said she was trying very hard to be strong and would not be putting up with any nonsense from anyone while she figured shit out.
Liz’d seen it before, had known it since she was a young girl, watching her mother hold it all in when they were living out of their car, moving from place to place.
The grit she pulled from deep inside herself.
Liz hated that her mother felt the need to gather herself up now, after all that had happened.
She should be given time to grieve, rather than plan for what-ifs.
Liz let out a sigh. “Mom, don’t look at me like that. You married that man and put up with him for years, took on raising those boys who weren’t yours. He left you zilch. I mean, you know the boys won’t let you starve, but it isn’t fair and—”
“Don’t.” Her mother interrupted. “I have my own accounts, and some savings safely tucked away, and my old age pension helps. It isn’t much, but it’ll be fine.”
“Fine? Define that for me, because I don’t think this is fine. We can ask Jake to make sure Brett’s personal accounts are reverted or—” Liz said, her emotions getting the better of her. She winced as she realized she sounded kind of whiny.
“I’ll be fine, and it will all work out. Jake’s a good man, and when he and Frank sort it out, we’ll figure out what to do. Brady has already insisted they’ll look at giving me cash out of the ranch revenue if push comes to shove, which is ridiculous.”
“Well, good, but—”
Her mother cut her off again, shaking her finger in her daughter’s direction. “But nothing, Elizabeth Jaqueline Baker. Honestly, Brett West didn’t owe me a red cent. I wasn’t expecting anything out of the deal.”
“The deal? What are you talking about? You married him. You were in love. It wasn’t a business transaction.”
Her mother straightened, a sad look flitting across her face, and she reached for the pile of cutlery to add to the load.
Brett had been a hard man to love, even if he was certainly a charmer of the ladies, and from all the stories Liz had heard, he had been quite popular with the women of Brightside in his day.
But Liz knew the truth of it, the two sides of him.
Once you got to know Brett, it became very apparent he never truly let anyone into his heart.
He was hard, and thought only with his head, for the good of the ranch.
The rumors swirled about a woman he’d loved once—which she realized now was maybe Jake’s mother—who’d hightailed it away from the ranch because he’d cheated on her.
From what Liz was told, he married the “other woman” quickly, and that woman was Veronica.
Veronica had been the outgoing, social partner he’d needed when he was expanding the ranch, and had given him two sons to carry on the name before she’d died.
But Liz’s mother? It had surprised everyone when Brett and Peony announced their engagement not long after Veronica passed away. Peony had been their housekeeper, lived in the small bunkhouse that Liz now occupied by herself, and no one had even known they were an item.
Her mother had been labeled a gold digger.
People wondered if it was just about the sex, or if Brett had cheated on Veronica with her, continuing the wicked pattern.
Liz had taken a lot of snide remarks at school about it—finding out more about her stepfather than she cared to know in the process—before the wedding.
In the end, as much as people gossiped and judged in small-town circles, they also eventually accepted. Her mother became the second official Mrs. West, and people moved on.
“Oh, honey, it wasn’t that kind of marriage. It was strictly an arrangement between us, a companionship, if you want to call it something more palatable. I was lonely, and it was what we both wanted at the time. I thought you knew that.”
Liz stared open-mouthed as her mother placed the last fork onto the dish rack, closed the door, and pushed the button. What? How was she supposed to answer that?
“But . . . you—” Liz said, trying to come up with something to say.
The dishwasher whooshed to life, and her mother pasted her stern smile back into place.
“But nothing. I don’t regret marrying Brett, not for one second. He took care of us when we needed it most, and I was there for him when he needed me. We were good for one another while it lasted. So, whatever happens now, we deal with it, okay?”
With that, her mother squeezed Liz’s arm and walked back into the dining room. Liz listened to the swish of the water for a few moments more.
Now it was her turn to be speechless. It had been a day of stunning announcements.