When I walked in, Whitaker’s secretary, old Mrs. Dobson, who’d been working there since the dawn of time, nodded toward the conference room. “They’re waiting for you, Cole.”
They. Like Jesse and Whitaker were a team now, conspiring with my late father to ruin my life. Fuck, I just wanted this over with so I could get things back to normal.
I squared my shoulders and pushed through the door, finding Jesse slouched in a chair opposite Whitaker’s desk. He looked different in the daylight. Definitely less drunk now and more put-together in a way that screamed city life. His jeans probably cost more than I made in a week, and that watch on his wrist definitely wasn’t bought at the Hell Creek general store.
Despite my irritation, I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he’d become. He was well-groomed, stylishly scruffy, and had a jaw that could cut glass. It seemed life had treated him well, keeping him lithe and functionally fit. And those eyes of his… those hazel eyes that caught my attention far more than they should have. Well… they were looking at me now.
God, I wanted to fucking punch him.
“Cole,” Whitaker stood, extending his hand. “Thank you for coming.”
I shook it briefly, taking the seat furthest from Jesse without acknowledging him. “Let’s get this over with.”
Whitaker cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. He was a small man with thinning hair and a perpetual smile, which was odd for a lawyer. Then again, working in a small town with ranchers wasn’t exactlyLaw and Order, so he didn’t lead a very stressful life.
In front of him was a manila envelope with a stack of papers inside. He placed his laced hands on it, looking between the two of us. As he glanced down at it, I saw his perpetual smile fade a bit and his brows furrow.
That was probably not a good sign.
Chapter 3
Cole
“I’ve read over the will,” Mr. Whitaker began, nodding his head slowly as he spoke. “I was the one who helped the late Mr. Nelson complete it and file it with the state. Everything contained within is legally binding, and should one of you wish to fight it in court, I’m afraid you will be in for a losing battle.”
Well, that filled me with fucking terror. “What do you mean?” I asked, knitting my brows together. “Why would you start with that?”
The lawyer held up a hand. “I’m just letting you know the facts, Cole,” he replied. “Your father was…thorough. He had himself evaluated by a doctor and papers signed to prove he was of sound mind. Then he filed everything before his death so that there would be no mistaking what he wanted and no grounds to dispute the will should either of you disagree with its contents.”
My dread grew with every passing moment. “How the hell did he manage that? He’s been bedridden for months!”
“Some doctors and lawyers still make house calls,” he replied, adjusting his glasses. “Regardless of how old-fashioned you youngsters think that sort of thing is. Evelyn was also very helpful, running errands for your father when he needed them.”
Evelyn. Of course. That explained her incessant need to warn me before I left. Between her and Mr. Whitaker, I already knew I wasn’t gonna like what was contained in my father’s will. It seemed everyone, not just Jesse, was out to betray me.
“Dad was always a step ahead when it came to legal stuff,” Jesse added nonchalantly, picking at his fingernails. “Just like that time when those men tried to claim?—”
“Shut up,” I spat, shooting a glare at Jesse.
He just stared at me, one eyebrow raised. “Are you this much of a dick to everyone, or am I just lucky?”
I hated that fucking sarcastic tone he always used with me. He knew how much it irritated me. It was like talking to a teenager.
“Why don’t you?—”
“Gentlemen,” Mr. Whitaker barked, interrupting what would’ve probably been the start of another fight. “If you can withhold your animosity toward one another for the next five minutes, I’d like to deliver this will to you both.” He glanced down at his watch. “As entertaining as it would be to listen to you two fight like children, I have a lunch date I would like to keep with another client.”
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. The lawyer was right. I was acting like a child. But something about Jesse always brought out the worst in me. Always had.
“Apologies,” I muttered. “Go ahead.”
Mr. Whitaker nodded, carefully opening the manila envelope and extracting several official-looking documents. “As you know, your father owned the Nelson Ranch outright, approximately five thousand acres of land, the main house, and all structures and livestock therein.” He glanced up at me. “A substantial estate.”
My heart pounded in my chest. This was it. This was the moment when everything I’d worked for would be confirmed as mine.
“Jack Nelson’s will is... unconventional,” Whitaker continued, adjusting his glasses. “But as I said, entirely legal and binding.”
Jesse shifted in his seat, suddenly looking less smug. Good. He should be nervous.
