“Trish, surely you see that coming here was a mistake,” Stokes persisted. “Why don’t you come back to my place, and we’ll hash this out in probate court as we intended.”
She shook her head. That had been his intention, not hers. She’d always intended to talk to Maci and Frankie. But she hadn’t been in the greatest physical shape until recently. And she hadn’t wanted to risk losing these babies as she had the others by putting too much stress on herself.
“You’re still contesting the will?” Maci asked the question.
“Let them try, Maci. You’ve got this,” one of the Lemmon men remarked. Trish had only met Brett, so she didn’t know which one was Blake. The one who looked like Brett and had spoken, or the younger man with the baby? Then she remembered that Liam had the wife and baby, so that was Blake who’d championed Maci, who clearly loved Maci. He stared at her with a look of such awe and pride and affection.
Trish couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her that way except one man—her father. He had loved her. And she had loved him, even though she hadn’t seen him as much as she should have, as she’d wanted to.
Tears stung her eyes over all her regrets. She blinked furiously in an attempt to keep them at bay, but at least two of the men had seen them because both Stokes and Brett took a step closer to her.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Stokes said.
“I’m sorry,” Brett said, his deep voice gruff with regret. “I didn’t see you there…”
“So you’re sorry that I heard, not that you said it,” she concluded.
He sighed, then nodded.
Appreciative of his honesty, she smiled. Then she turned toward Stokes, uncertain of his honesty. He’d helped her with her divorce, but she wasn’t sure if he was acting in her best interest regarding the will. Maybe he thought she deserved to inherit the entire ranch, but, like Brett Lemmon, she wasn’t sure that she really deserved any of it, let alone all of it.
But she didn’t want any of it for herself. She wanted it for her children. She wanted to give them the childhood she wished she’d had. And that idyllic childhood was here, at the ranch. She patted her belly, drew in a breath and told Stokes, “You can leave. I don’t need you here.”
She was going to make sure that she didn’t need anyone ever again. She was going to take care of herself and her babies.
“Trish, this is a mistake,” Nolan persisted. “You can’t trust these people.”
“She can’t trust you!” Frankie exclaimed. “You’re a sleaze, spying on us, threatening us—”
“I have never threatened anyone,” Stokes interjected, his voice sharp with defensiveness and outrage.
Trish smiled at how offended he was and probably rightfully so. He was well-known and respected for being a champion for the weak and the poor. That was why he’d stepped in to help her all those months ago, or so he’d told her. But Trish didn’t want to be weak. And thanks to the divorce settlement Stokes had helped her get, she wasn’t poor either. She wasn’t rich, but she would have enough to support herself and her babies.
If she could live here at the ranch, if she could make it what she wanted it to be for her kids, she might even have enough to buy out the Lemmons, if they would let her.
“You’re not denying the spying,” Frankie pointed out, her face close to Nolan’s as she argued with him. “Go ahead and try to take us to court. Maci will be sure to expose you as the sleazeball fraud that you are.”
“I am not a fraud,” Stokes said. “You’re the one who has been conned, and you’re not astute enough to realize it.”
“Are you calling me stupid?” Frankie asked, her face flushed with anger.
Stokes didn’t deny it. He added, “And disloyal. You’re betraying your cousin for strangers.”
“You’re the only stranger here,” Frankie said.
“And your client told you to leave,” Brett said. “But then you don’t care about respecting other people’s wishes…”
Stokes glared at Brett. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Brett shook his head. “No, I don’t. And I don’t want to, and I don’t need to. Trish, your client, asked you to leave.”
“But you’re the one who really wants me to go,” Stokes said, “so you can take advantage of her like you took advantage of her dad.”
Exclamations of outrage came out of the mouths of everyone in the room. Even the baby began to cry. And Trish’s head started to pound with the pressure and stress of the confrontation. She hated conflict; it was why she’d always caved to her mother’s and even Harold’s wishes. It had been easier than fighting them or even worse yet, disappointing her mother.
But, like the baby, she’d had enough.
“Stop!” she shouted, flinching at the volume of her own voice.
