“And who decides which one of us gets it?” she asked.
Exhaling in exasperation, the lawyer squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he said, “It goes to the winner of a trivia contest.”
“I’m pitted against a hockey boy in a contest? Please help me understand what’s happening here.” She looked helplessly to Declan.
He was no help. He was just as shocked.
“The competition will be held thirty days from today, on July twelfth in the Music Box. Kurt wrote the questions himself, and I’ll be reading them.” The lawyer exhaled in defeat. “The event is open to the public.”
“Whatever good memories I had of him, this…this has wiped out every single one.” She rose out of her chair. “Thank you for your time.”
“Where are you going?” Harrison asked.
“I thought he’d already hurt me as badly as a father could.” She yanked her purse by a handle. “I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of participating in his cruel game.” With a nod, she turned and started out of the room.
“The ranch has been in your family since the eighteen-hundreds.”
If the lawyer thought that would catch her interest, he was wrong. “The Grevers are not my family.” She reached the door and twisted the knob.
“It’s the single largest property in Wyoming and the most profitable ranch in the country.”
She gave him a flat look.
“And it’s valued at seven-hundred-million-dollars.”
Seraphina stopped, her purse dangling from the bend of her arm. “Pardon?”
“And all you have to do is answer more questions correctly than Declan.”
“What kind of questions?” She asked quietly. “World affairs? Hollywood trivia?”
“Uh, no.” Harrison looked uncomfortable. “Questions about your father.”
“Of course. The original narcissist.” She blew out a tired breath. “I really wish you’d mailed me this information. I didn’t need to fly all the way out here for this.”
Declan shot her a look. “You’d have missed your father’s funeral?”
“My father lives in London. The sperm donor hasn’t spoken to me in twenty years. That’s how important I was to him.”
“I’m sure you understand there are two sides to every story,” the lawyer said. “And I believe Mr. Grevers’s intention was for you to hear his. To that end, if you choose to participate, he requires both of you to live and work on his property for a month. He believes that will give the two of you an equal opportunity to learn about him.”
“Why does he need to know my father?” She tipped a chin to Declan. “He’s not a blood relative.”
“No, but Kurt often referred to Declan as the son he never had.”
All the years of living on his own, being fully responsible for himself, melted like shaved ice, exposing the howling child that still waited at the end of the driveway for his parents to come home. Who clung to his grandfather’s hand so he could fall asleep at night.
To hear that acknowledgement from Kurt undid him.
And no lie, he wanted the ranch more than anything. Not for the money or the training center he’d always dreamed of running there, but because the ancestry, the history on that land, had meant everything to Kurt.
But I’m not a Grevers. Seraphina is.
Which meant he had to do the right thing. “The ranch is yours. I have no claim to it, and I wouldn’t take away your legacy like that. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll wait to get the will in the mail and figure out what to do about my share of the Renegades.”
“Oh, thank God. I’m terribly sorry for the attitude I’ve been throwing around. It’s just all so overwhelming and, frankly, hurtful.” Giving him a warm and unbearably sweet smile, she reached for his hand. “I can’t thank you enough. You’ve no idea what this means to me.”
Sure, I do.
I’d give my left nut to have a family legacy like yours.
He gave her a nod and headed for the door. He wondered if she’d mind if he went inside the house one last time. He’d like to take one last look around. “Actually, there’s one thing I’d like.”
“Name it.” She flashed her dazzling smile.
“In the kitchen, top drawer next to the stove, there’s an old-fashioned potato masher. I’d like it.”
“You want a kitchen utensil?” She must’ve realized how rude she sounded because she waved her hand. “I’m sorry. Of course, you can have it. How about I leave it here with Mr. Goodman?”
With a curt nod, he headed out of the office. Maybe he’d hike the property down to the river where they used to fish. He needed time alone to process Kurt’s death. Passing the receptionist, he nodded. “Thank you.”
And then, right as he reached the door, he heard Seraphina ask, “Can you give me the name of a good realtor? I’d like to get it on the market as quickly as possible.”
Declan stopped in his tracks. Swiveling back around, he barreled into the office. “You’re selling Kurt’s ranch?”
“Of course. I live in London. I…” She looked to Harrison for support, as if he’d side with her.
He didn’t. The lawyer gave her a hard, flat look. “As I just said, that land has been in your family for generations.”
“Yes, but it’s not really my family, and I’ve no use for a cattle ranch in Wyoming. I’m sure you understand.” She gave Declan an earnest look. “I’d be happy to send you a token of my appreciation.”
Okay, he’d heard enough. He slapped his palm on Harrison’s desk. “I’m in.”
“Excuse me?” the woman asked. “You just said you’re not entitled to Kurt’s land. I’m his only child.” Seraphina sounded distraught.
“And if all you’re going to do is sell it, then maybe I’m more interested in it than I thought.” Declan focused on the attorney. “You said we have to live and work on the ranch?”
“Correct.”
“I’ll have to take a leave from my job, so don’t bother mailing the will to my Pittsburgh address.” He snatched the lawyer’s card out of a granite holder and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans. “You know where to find me for the next month.”
Chapter Two
The taxi had left Phinny in front of the massive wood and iron gate guarding Kurt’s property. She should ring the buzzer, ask to be let in, but she didn’t want to go into that house yet.
She didn’t want to be here at all.
How could he do this to her? What had she ever done to cause him to be so cruel? She’d been six years old when she’d thrown a fit about visiting him. Of course she hadn’t wanted to leave her mummy and fly across the world to spend time with a man she barely knew. Why would he punish her for that?
And, really, what effort had he ever made to get to know her?
The sun beat down on her head, and cars roared by on the four-lane highway connecting the Tetons to the town she’d just left behind. A cool breeze rustled the sagebrush bushes and carried the scent of wildflowers.