Her Holiday Rancher. Cathy McDavid

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СКАЧАТЬ in twenty-four years.

      Betrayal. It was the emotion Gabe hadn’t been able to define when he was six. It was also the emotion that gripped him now, fresh as the day on the playground with Josh.

      “See, I told you, mijo,” his mother said in a whisper, “your father did not forget you.”

      Not forget him? He might as well have. Gabe was supposed to share ownership of Dos Estrellas? With them?

      “He promised to leave the ranch to Gabe,” Cara hissed.

      “Hush,” his mother ordered.

      “It’s not fair.” Cara’s voice rose, loud enough to draw the stares of everyone in the room. “Gabe’s worked the land. He knows the cattle business and how the ranch is run.” She gestured to Josh and Cole. “They don’t have the first clue. They’re rodeo competitors, for crying out loud.”

      “We can hear you,” Josh said.

      Cole grunted and stared angrily out the large bay window.

      Gabe fumed. What was the guy’s problem? He had nothing to be angry about.

      “If we could please continue,” Hector scolded in an attempt to bring the reading back under control.

      Cara didn’t apologize. She didn’t say anything, merely folded her arms across her middle.

      With a warning nod in her direction, Hector carried on, reading August’s words. “My good attorney has advised me to cover the many details on a separate page. I’ve done that, merely to satisfy him, mind you.” A hint of amusement flashed in Hector’s eyes. “But, in a nutshell, Dos Estrellas can’t be sold in its entirety unless all three of my sons are in agreement. And while individual shares can be sold, it is my fervent wish my beloved ranch remains in the family for many future generations, and the grandchildren I didn’t live long enough to see will grow up here, fine, strong and healthy like my own boys.”

      Gabe almost choked. Was his father serious? The two men sitting across from him hadn’t grown up at the ranch. As children they’d moved six hundred miles away to Northern California and never once come back, ignoring the requests to visit their dying father and say goodbye.

      He half listened to the rest of the reading. Violet Hathaway, the ranch’s livestock manager, along with the Dempsey housekeeper of twenty-plus years, were to retain their jobs. Lastly, there was a mention of selling shares to one another and how the profits were to be distributed.

      Profits, right. What a joke. There weren’t any, and hadn’t been since August had become ill.

      “Questions?” Hector asked, sounding a lot like a parrot.

      Gabe shook his head. He would read his copy of the will later, when he was less agitated and better able to focus, though it wouldn’t make much difference.

      The empty hole inside him ached. He’d admired, respected and loved his father with boundless devotion. Now he feared he might have been wrong. Whether his father had realized it or not, he’d forced Gabe into partnership with his brothers and, by the looks on their faces, they were as unhappy about the outcome as Gabe.

      “Are we done?” Cole asked, his tone sharp.

      “Not quite.” Hector set his briefcase on the floor by his feet. “There’s the matter of the trustee.”

      “Trustee?” Gabe’s mother leaned forward. “What is a trustee?”

      “The Dos Estrellas and August’s other property are actually held in the trust he established. As with all trusts, a person or entity is designated to oversee the trust and carry out the terms of the will according to the decedent’s wishes. Typically, the trustee makes the distributions, and, in this case, will oversee the management of the estate per August’s instructions.”

      “Dad hired a manager?” Gabe couldn’t believe his ears.

      “Not exactly. You and your brothers will run the ranch. But’s the trustee’s job to make sure you’re running it according to the terms of your father’s will. For instance, your mother and Cara continue to live here as long as they choose and Cara’s mustang sanctuary is protected.”

      That sounded reasonable, Gabe supposed.

      “You should know your father gave the trustee full financial powers until the ranch operates in the black for at least one full year, and all his medical bills are paid off. The trustee’s duties will end only then or if the ranch is sold.”

      “I don’t understand,” Josh said.

      “Essentially, while you and your brothers run the ranch, the trustee will be pulling the purse strings.”

      If Gabe wasn’t already in a state of shock, this latest bombshell would have knocked him to his knees. His father had preferred for someone outside the family handle the ranch’s finances over his son? His sons?

      “Who’s the trustee?” Gabe asked.

      Hector waited a beat before responding. “The Southern Arizona Bank.”

      Mustang Valley’s sole financial institution. Gabe was familiar with them, like everyone else in the community.

      “Why?”

      “A trustee is supposed to abide by the terms of the will.” Hector shrugged. “Unfortunately, they don’t always. It can happen when family members are put in charge. Emotions run high. As a result, some individuals choose an entity, such as a bank, or an attorney, to act as trustee. They tend to adhere more strictly to the terms of the will and keep emotions out of it.”

      Perhaps Gabe’s father had the foresight to realize forcing his three sons into an unwanted partnership would guarantee high-running emotions.

      The front doorbell rang, startling several of the room’s occupants. Not Hector. He made his way to the large, ornately carved wooden door.

      “Who could that be?” Gabe’s mother moved as if to rise. “I specifically requested no visitors this afternoon.”

      “It’s all right,” Hector said. “I arranged for the representative from the bank to be here today in order to meet you all and put your fears to rest.”

      He opened the heavy door. It swung wide, revealing a feminine silhouette cast in dark shadows from the sun’s slanting rays.

      “Am I early?” the woman asked.

      “Not at all, come in,” he said. “We’re ready for you.”

      Gabe blinked as the representative stepped across the threshold, convinced he was seeing things. It couldn’t be. This had to be a mistake. Or someone’s idea of a sick joke. He wasn’t sure if he should shout in protest or laugh out loud.

      Hector took the young, professionally dressed woman by the arm and led her to the center of the room as if she were on display.

      “For those of you who haven’t met her before, this is Reese McGraw, assistant manager at Southern Arizona Bank and the trustee of August Dempsey’s estate.”

      * СКАЧАТЬ