Demanding All Of You Read online

  He laughed. “No. Your grandfather was a very wealthy man. He sold it off to help out a young man. He sold it for far less than it was worth.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because, like I said, he wanted to help a kid out. He didn’t need the crops.”

  “What do you mean wealthy? I don’t remember him ever being wealthy.”

  He laughed again. “About twenty years ago, he bought some shares in a tech company. It was on a whim. Needless to say, it paid off. He made a few more investments and let the money sit, collecting interest and keeping him a wealthy man.”

  “But he never told me!”

  “He wanted you to learn the value of hard work. I guess he must have felt you learned that lesson. The money is yours.”

  I licked my lips. “I don’t want to sound crass, but can you give me a ballpark figure?”

  “Let’s just say it hovers around the eight to nine figure range.”

  My mind did a little math. “Wait, what?” I asked.

  He slowly nodded. “You heard me. Like I said, your grandpa, he was one smart son of a bitch. I tried to do what he did and lost money. He just had a knack for knowing what was a good bet and what wasn’t.”

  “Wow,” I breathed. “I never knew. He never mentioned investing. You knew him. There was nothing about him that said he knew the first thing about investing.”

  “He liked to keep his cards close to the vest.”

  “Shit,” I said, my mind still trying to process everything. “He left it to me?”

  Harvey waved the stack of papers. “It’s all right here.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say. Do I thank you? I feel like a shithead. I didn’t go to the man’s funeral. I don’t feel worthy.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think he expected you to go to the funeral. He planned it all to keep you from having to relive that experience.”

  I gulped down the lump in my throat. When Ann had died, I had been a wreck. My grandfather had flown out to be with me. I didn’t even remember the first few days after her death. Thankfully, Oliver was in the hospital. There was no way I could have taken care of a newborn in those days. My grandfather had been with me through all the funeral planning, made decisions when I didn’t have the strength.

  “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” I whispered. “Part of me still thinks he’s back on the farm, just waiting for me to show up.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it had to have come as a shock.”

  I scoffed. “You can say that again.”

  He handed me the papers. “You’ll need to sign those to transfer the property.”

  I nodded, picking up a pen. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe the farm was mine. I needed time to let it sink in. I signed my name, flipping through each page and skimming before signing. One caught my eye. It wasn’t the standard paperwork.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  I looked up to see him smiling at me. “Ah, that. Well, your grandfather was happy to leave everything to you, but he had one minor stipulation.”

  I groaned. “I knew it sounded like a hoax.”

  “It isn’t a hoax. The money is real. He doesn’t want you to sell the farm—at least not for six months. He has stipulated that in order for you to inherit the bulk of the inheritance, you’ll need to live on the farm for six months.”

  My brows shot up. “What?”

  “He wants you to live on the farm. He’s provided enough money for you to keep the farm going for the next six months, including an allowance for food and other necessities. A rather generous allowance, I might add. If you choose not to live on the farm, the bulk of the money will be donated to the charities he has picked out.”

  I nodded. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. He wanted me back there. This is his way of doing it.”

  “It isn’t spiteful,” he assured me. “I think he’s doing it because he wants you to be happy. He wants you to be sure of your path in life.”

  “He told you he didn’t like me being in the city?”

  He laughed. “Hell, son, none of us want our kids in the city. We chose to live where we do because it’s good, clean air and away from all the hustle and bustle of the city. It’s a great place to raise kids.”

  “Now you sound like him.”

  “I sound like every other father I know.”

  “It’s a lot to take in. When do I have to decide?”

  “I think you can take a day or two to make up your mind.”

  “Will you be in town?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Hell no. I’m on the next flight out. You’ve got the paperwork and my number. The farm isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Thank you for coming all the way over here. I don’t mean to be difficult.”

  He smiled. “Not difficult at all. Truthfully, my wife wanted to see the Big Apple. We came into town last night. We rented a fancy hotel room and had room service. I’ll be in her good graces for quite some time.”

  I laughed. “I’m glad it wasn’t a wasted trip.”

  “Not at all. Take care of yourself, Damion. I know you’ve had a rough go. Call me if you need anything. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  I walked him to the elevator. By the time I made it back to my office, my mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts and memories. I didn’t know what to do. I took a seat at my desk and looked around the office. It wasn’t exactly the nicest office and it definitely wasn’t in one of the exclusive buildings.

  Could I walk away from a job I loved? Rather, a job I used to love. I wasn’t sure I loved it any more. I loved my son. I needed to think of his needs. He wasn’t thriving. He was getting by. My grandfather’s last words to me were child-rearing advice. It had been good advice.

  I wished I could call him and ask for his advice. I rubbed my hands over my face. It would be a huge change. Maybe it was the change I needed. I could admit I felt stifled, like I was locked in a cage. Montana and the farm could change everything.

  It wasn’t about the money. The money didn’t mean shit. I knew his bribe was only meant to get me to the farm. I needed to breathe the air. I needed to feel the Montana sun on my face. I needed Oliver to experience all those things. It would be hard to go home and not see him, but it needed to be done. I had to face the grief.

  Hopefully, it would help heal the ache in my heart.

  Chapter 6

  Alex

  I took a bite of my crispy bacon before sipping the black coffee. I had been starving when I walked into the only restaurant in town. People in town were used to me eating a lot. I burned a lot of calories doing what I did, and for now, I didn’t have to worry too much about putting on a ton of weight. I wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder, but I was stronger than most women.

  Correction, stronger than most normal women. Women that ranched and farmed were tough. I was proud to be what I considered one of the elite class of females across the country that could rein in a scared horse, load a bale of hay, and then cook up a hot meal for the menfolk. What I really loved was working my ass off on a farm and then sitting down to enjoy a meal someone else prepared. Like my breakfast. Any meal prepared by someone else always tasted a little better in my opinion.

  “Did you get those new boots you were looking at?” Sadie asked casually.

  I stuffed a buttery piece of pancake in my mouth, shaking my head. Sadie was sitting across from me and eating her ridiculous, way-too-healthy egg-white omelet while I stuffed my face with as many calories as I could get. It had been a hard morning. “No. I haven’t had time to order them.”

  “It takes less than five minutes,” she chided.

  “By the time I get home, I’m so damn tired the only thing I want to do is take a hot bath and sleep.”

  “You work too hard. You need to get a job like I have. Granted, my feet are tired after a long day of cutting and teasing hair, but I don’t have to get sweaty.”

  “I don’t mind getti
ng sweaty,” I told her. “It feels good to put in a hard day of work, although I did not sign up for this many days of hard work. I’m doing the job of three hands and my own. I’m wearing down in a hurry.”

  “You weren’t made to work that hard,” she said. “Don’t you have enough money saved up to retire?”

  I laughed. “Not quite. I figure another few years and I’ll be able to buy my own farm. The hard work won’t stop once I own my own place, though. I’m sure it’ll just get harder.”

  “But you’ll have a husband to take some of the weight off your shoulders,” she pointed out.

  “Uh, not in my fantasy. I don’t need a husband. I can run a farm by myself. I’ve proven that time and again.”

  She grinned. “A husband can rub your shoulders after a long day. Rub your feet and do things to your body that make you feel oh so good.”

  I winked. “I can do things to my body all by myself. I’m an independent woman.”

  She grimaced. “You’re dirty.”

  “I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I’m going to find me a rich man that will take care of me. I’m going to have someone else doing my hair. I’m going to be pampered and have a closet the size of a house.”

  I laughed. “Nice life goals.”

  We ate our breakfasts. We often tried to meet up for breakfast, but with our schedules, it wasn’t always easy. She owned and operated her own tiny hair salon in town, and in order to have any business, she worked odd hours.

  My mind drifted back to the problem that was weighing heavily on my mind. The same problem that had left me feeling bone tired. “What if no one shows up?” I asked, speaking aloud the fear I had.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you call the lawyer and tell him you quit.”

  “I can’t quit. I can’t just leave the horses and the farm.”

  “Then I guess you stay forever. You work your ass to the bone, and that will be that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m not sure how I can help. I’m not mucking out stalls. These shoes cost me almost my whole damn paycheck.”

  “First of all, that’s dumb to spend that much on shoes. Shoes that aren’t even practical. Second of all, you don’t wear heels to muck stalls.”

  She laughed. “You might not, but if I was going to muck stalls, it would absolutely be in heels. I am going to look good shoveling shit.”

  I laughed. “Of course, you would. You and your perfect manicure and your hair all done up. I can see it.”

  She was smiling. “Damn straight. Maybe I’d wear some Daisy Dukes too.”

  “And set women back fifty years,” I groaned.

  “A little sexy never hurt anyone.”

  “I wonder if I should put an ad in the paper,” I mused aloud.

  “And how are you going to pay the person you hire?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “I don’t know. I have to do something. Maybe Oliver was confused when he told me he had someone coming. He was very sick. What if he didn’t hire anyone? He might have thought he did. It’s been almost three weeks. How long does it take for someone to show up?”

  “Call the lawyer. Ask when you can expect the new foreman or whatever you call them. If he says one isn’t coming, ask for permission to hire someone. Maybe you can just have it!”

  I laughed. “Like become a squatter? Doesn’t that take something like seven years?”

  “I don’t know. You were the closest thing he had to family. He’d want you to have it. He trusted you.”

  I shook my head. “Even so, there’s the whole legal thing.”

  “I honestly don’t know, Alex. I think you’re working your tail off for a man that isn’t here to appreciate it. What all have you been doing out there?”

  I blew out a breath. “I’ve been doing what I do and then some. The horses needed to be fed. The fields needed to be planted.”

  “I think possession is nine-tenths of the law,” she said with a laugh. “You’re putting in the work. It’s yours.”

  “I’ll give it until the end of the week. If no one shows up, I’ll call the lawyer and let him know I need a body there or he needs to give me the power to hire a body.”

  “Good plan. I need to scoot. I’ve got an eleven o’clock.”

  “See ya later,” I said, not getting up. I had already been to the farm, taken care of morning chores, and was going to enjoy a lazy, late breakfast.

  With the initial shock of Oliver’s death easing, I was able to focus on what came next. I had a couple of calls from potential clients. The easy thing to do would be to walk away, take a new job, and put Oliver and his farm behind me. It was how I lived my life. I didn’t get attached to people or places. I kept everyone at arm’s length.

  I checked the time. I wanted to be rebellious and ignore the farm. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what I believed about the afterlife, but I wasn’t interested in pissing off any ghosts. I had made a promise and I intended to keep that promise.

  I left the diner and drove out to the farm. My truck bumped over the gravel road that led out to the Whittle place. I passed the mailbox and out of habit, checked the mail. His attorney was handling all the bills but that didn’t stop the junk mail from clogging up the box. I tossed it into the passenger seat of my truck and drove on down the driveway. It was still very strange. I kept expecting to see Oliver out on the tractor. He’d put a hand up and wave when he saw me driving in.

  I hit the brakes when I saw a newish Nissan Alexima parked in front of the house. It sat next to Oliver’s truck. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to move the truck. It was in the same spot he last parked it. It seemed sacrilege to move it.

  I glared at the car, tempted to ram the shiny, black butt of the car with the New York plates. Who in the hell drove a car out to a farm? From New York? I assumed it was probably someone settling the estate. They were probably in the house taking inventory of the things they would auction off. He had asked me to keep the farm together but said nothing about the contents of the house.

  I shoved the truck into reverse and headed for the barn. I had things to do. I didn’t want to see what was happening inside. It pissed me off that strangers were pawing through his things, putting price tags on his coffee cups and his favorite recliner.

  “It’s not your problem, Alex,” I told myself.

  I stomped inside the barn, inhaling the scent of straw, hay, and horse. It was a unique, distinct smell that few people could truly appreciate. I walked to the first stall and opened the door. “Hey, girl,” I said in a calm voice. “You ready to go out for a bit, Fiona?”

  I ran my hand over the beautiful paint’s neck before giving her a kiss on her snout. She was a good girl and hated the bridle. Oliver never made her wear it. He always said she was too old to do anything stupid. After getting to know her, I agreed.

  I walked her out to the paddock, letting her get some fresh air. She was nursing a leg injury. I watched her munch on the stack of hay in the feeder. I headed back into the barn to clean her stall. It was tedious work, but it was oddly cathartic. I finished up with her stall and took care of the other empty stalls. I had put the other horses out in the pasture earlier.

  With the stalls taken care of, I took off my gloves and walked out of the barn to see if the unwelcome guest was still around. I heard the creaky screen door and looked toward the house. A tall man wearing dark jeans and a crisp white polo shirt stepped onto the porch.

  I hated him. I hated what he stood for. He put his hands on his hips and looked my way. He was tall, ridiculously tall. I couldn’t see his eye color, but there was no missing the black hair. The features of his face were difficult to see, but I got a pretty good idea of his physique. I guessed him to be in his early to mid-thirties and in good shape.

  I didn’t like him on principle. There was no way he could be the new manager of the farm. Oliver wasn’t that senile. He’d seemed to be in perfect control of his faculti
es. Maybe the suave dude still standing on the porch was a representative of the new manager. That seemed a little pretentious, but I was just a simple, country girl.

  I was about to walk away and leave the man to roam about on his own when I saw him take the steps down the porch. He was headed my way.

  “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. He wanted to talk to me. I didn’t have shit to say to him.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled my gaze at him. The city slicker was going to learn I wasn’t one of the delicate flowers from the city. I could kick his ass and not break a nail in the process. Mostly because I didn’t have nails, but that wasn’t the point.

  Mr. Tall, Dark, and what I could see now was very Handsome was not going to intimidate me. But damn, he was sexy as hell. I wasn’t usually the type to go for the fancy folk, but I could be persuaded.

  My eyes immediately dropped to his left hand, checking for a ring. I couldn’t see anything from where I stood, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. I could only imagine what his wife would look like. She’d probably give Sadie a run for her money in the girly-girl department.

  Chapter 7

  Damion

  I knew my grandfather had someone minding the farm, but no one had said anything about that someone being a beautiful young woman. I had seen the truck pull up and watched through the dining room window where I had just sat down to enjoy a sandwich with Oliver. When I saw the truck, I assumed it was the hand Harvey told me about. Then she got out of the truck and I was less sure about my assumption. He had told me someone named Alex was running things. That didn’t look like an Alex to me.

  I waited and watched as she disappeared into the barn. I wondered if she worked for Alex. Before I ventured out to introduce myself, I got Oliver situated in the bedroom that used to be mine growing up. I walked outside, inhaling the fresh air with the scent of freshly tilled dirt lingering. It was strange how a scent could stir up memories. I took a few more deep breaths, closing my eyes and letting myself be transported to another time.