“Yes, we do,” Taryn agreed and held the door open for Irene, Ruby, and her cousins. She had thought about telling her grandmother about the letters but decided to wait until after the funeral.
Then Clinton took a step to one side and motioned for Taryn to go ahead of him. “My grandpa would disown me if I wasn’t a gentleman.”
“Thank you,” Taryn whispered.
They all sat on the second pew, leaving the first one for family, but when Linda and Diana arrived two minutes before the service began, they chose to sit across the aisle and a couple of rows back.
“Why isn’t Kaitlin here?” Taryn asked her grandmother.
“After what happened at the wedding and when she found out we would be here, Kaitlin refused to come to the funeral,” Ruby reminded them.
“So she talked her best friend Diana into being here to support Linda,” Ruby added.
“Guess Linda’s not going to sit on the front pew and claim her relative even in death,” Irene whispered. “Would it kill her to sit on that front pew? Ora Mae called me last night and told me about the will, but she said Jorja had to tell me her story about why they left everything to y’all and not to Forrest. That boy was like a son to both of them. I tried to drag it out of her but couldn’t get the job done. She just said that it would do Jorja good to get it out and talk about it. Doyouknow why she and Amos left everything to y’all?”
“Whatever the story is, we’re glad that you girls have the means to stay right here in Shamrock,” Ruby said with a smile.
“So are we,” Taryn said. “And the story is Jorja’s, so you need to make her tell you what happened.”
Ora Mae came in and sat on the front pew. She turned around, smiled at all of them, and whispered, “Thank you for being here. It means the world to me, and I can feel Amos in this moment, too.”
Brother James took his place behind the pulpit and cleared his throat. “I was expecting a much bigger crowd today, but knowing Amos the way I did, I’m sure he doesn’t really care about numbers. It was a blessing we got the news early enough on Sunday that we could send out an email newsletter to everyone in the church telling them they could listen to the service on their phones; so many friends of his find it difficult to get out. Now, to get on with his wishes. He gave me a letter when he learned that he didn’t have long to live. He told me that it was to be opened when he died.” He picked up a letter opener and slid it across the top of the envelope.
Taryn felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. If the letter he’d left behind to be read at his funeral contained anything like what the ones he left for the cousins had—Lord have mercy!—the crap that would hit the fan in Shamrock would be catastrophic.
She shivered slightly and glanced over at Jorja. Her cousin’s eyes were as big as saucers. When Taryn leaned up slightly to see past Jorja, Anna Rose just winked at her and nodded.
The preacher cleared his throat and said, “Amos asked that this letter be read first and that I would then read the parable about the seeds and the soils. After the reading, he wanted me to end the service with ‘Lead Me Home’ by Jamey Johnson, and then those who want to can gather around the casket to tell him goodbye one final time. Before I start, let me say that I’m glad that Amos didn’t write this in longhand but had someone type it up. If we went by his handwriting, then we would think he should’ve been a doctor.” The small crowd chuckled. “‘To everyone who’s at my funeral: I’m writing this because I couldn’t do a thing about it back then, but the time comes for everyone to pay the fiddler. Ten years ago ...’”
Taryn raised an eyebrow at Anna Rose, who covered up a giggle with a cough.
Jorja bowed her head and closed her eyes. Taryn had no doubt she was praying that Amos wouldn’t tell the whole community her secret.
The preacher had stopped, and Taryn noticed that his hands trembled so badly that he dropped the letter on the floor. “I’m sorry, Ora Mae,” he said in a hollow voice. “I cannot read this out loud. This service is being sent out all over the county.”
“I can,” she said and marched up to the pulpit. “Youcan go sit over there on the deacon’s bench.” She picked up the letter. “First of all, I see Amos’s and my lawyer on the back pew. Linda, you are invited to stay and hear about his will when the song is over. That said, here’s what the preacher can’t seem to read, but I won’t have a bit of trouble doing—and for all y’all’s information, I typed this letter word for word for Amos.”
She cleared her throat and began: “‘Ten years ago, I overheard three boys in my barn talking about a hideous thing they had done the night before.’”
Taryn heard Jorja suck in air and turned to see her cousin’s face turning bright red.
“‘They were bragging about having drugged some sweet girls and taken advantage of them the night before. I only heard one name, andI won’t name her because it’s up to her to decide whether she wants her story told. But I will name those boys. They are Ford Chambers, Donald Jones, and Billy Johnson. Even though they won’t be punished by law, since it’s been so long, they deserve to have their sins brought to light, even if it is just by making people aware that they are not what everyone in Shamrock thinks they are. They all thought it was a grand thing they had done and was even slapping each other on the backs to celebrate hurting those girls. It’s for that reason I have left my entire farm, house, and all my earthly possessions—including my two cats—to Jorja Butler, Taryn O’Reilly, and Anna Rose Duquette. This property will help them stay here near family they loved and cared for—unlike my family, who never bothered with me. If you are here, Linda, don’t try to contest the will. It’s ironclad. And now the preacher can read the parable.’” Ora Mae folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket. “But first, I’ve got one more thing to say. Linda, I want you to know that you are like that hard seed the preacher is going to read about. You have no roots in kindness or the love of family.”
With a straight back, Ora Mae marched right back to her place on the pew. The preacher stumbled through the parable and then the song began. Taryn had bitten her tongue to keep from laughing, but now, listening to the lyrics, she began to weep. That poor old man had carried what he’d heard with him, but in death he had spoken his mind. Taryn hoped that in doing so, he could truly rest in peace.
When the song ended, Linda popped up. “This is ridiculous, and I would sue him for defamation of character if he was still alive. Ford is a good man, a good father to my grandchildren, and a good husband.”
Jorja got to her feet and turned to face Linda. “This isn’t the time or place.”
The preacher held up a hand. “Jorja is right. That concludes the service. Amos didn’t want any kind of service at the grave, so when you all have told him goodbye, the casket will be moved to the cemetery. The fellowship hall is open if any of you want to gather there.”
The funeral home director moved the flowers to the end of the casket and opened it for anyone who wanted to go forward, then stood at the other end beside the preacher.
“I don’t need to tell that old codger goodbye,” Linda said. “I will want a copy of that will.” She paled and laid a hand on her forehead. “Good God almighty! Everyone in town that was listening in on their phones will have heard all that! Ford will be disgraced. My poor Kaitlin will have to bear the burden of all these lies.”
“I bet Nettie didn’t miss listening to a word and is already heating up the phone lines,” Clinton whispered for Taryn’s ears only.
“Will y’all go with me to tell him goodbye?” Ora Mae asked Irene and Ruby.
