The Black Sheep's Inheritance. Maureen Child

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Название The Black Sheep's Inheritance
Автор произведения Maureen Child
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472049223



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the office door opened, and lawyer Walter Drake stepped inside and announced, “All here?” He swept the room with a sharp-eyed gaze and nodded to himself. “Good. Then we can get started.”

      “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Dylan grumbled.

      Sage was more than ready. He wanted this day done and finished so he could get back to his ranch.

      After settling himself behind a wide oak desk, Walter, an older man who looked like the stereotypical image of an “old family retainer”—handsome, gray haired and impeccably dressed—picked up a stack of papers and straightened them unnecessarily. That shuffle of paper and the rattle of the window panes as a cold wind gusted against it were the only sounds in the room. It was as if everyone had taken a breath and held it.

      Walter was clearly enjoying his moment in the spotlight. Every eye in the room was on him. Once again, his gaze moved over the people gathered there and when he finally came to Angelica, he gave her a sad, sympathetic smile before speaking to the room. “I know how hard this is on all of you, so I’ll be as brief as possible.”

      Sage would be grateful.

      “As you all know, J.D. and I knew each other for more than thirty years.” Walter paused, smiled to himself and added, “He was a stubborn man, but a proud one, and I want you all to know that he took great care with his will. He remade it just a few months ago because he wanted to be sure to do the right thing by all of you.”

      Scraping one hand across his face, Sage shifted in the uncomfortable chair. He flicked a quick glance out the window and saw dark clouds rushing across the sky. April in Wyoming, he mused. It could be sunny in the morning and snowing by afternoon. And right now, it looked as though a storm was headed their way. Which only fed the urge to get back to his ranch before the bad weather hit.

      “There are a lot of smaller provisions made to people J.D. thought well of over the years,” Walter was saying. “I won’t be reading them aloud today. Nor will I make mention of other estate business that will be handled separately.”

      Sage frowned thoughtfully and shifted his gaze to Walter. Handled separately? Why? What was the lawyer trying to hide? For that matter, what had J.D. been trying to hide? He braced his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward, keeping his gaze fixed on Walter as if the man was about to saw a woman in half. Or pull a dove from a magic hat.

      “That part of the will is, at this time, not to be shared with the family.”

      “Why not?” Sage’s question shattered the stillness left in the wake of Walter’s startling statement.

      The older man met Sage’s gaze squarely. “Those were J.D.’s wishes.”

      “How do we know that?” An insulting question and he knew it, but Sage didn’t stop himself. He didn’t like secrets.

      Dylan jammed his elbow into Sage’s side, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Just kept staring at the lawyer waiting for an answer.

      “Because I tell you so,” Walter said, stiffening in insult.

      “C’mon, Sage,” Dylan muttered. “Let it go for now.”

      He didn’t want to, but he would. Only because Marlene had turned in her seat to give him a worried frown. Damned if he’d do anything to upset her any further than she already was. Nodding to the woman he thought of as a mother, he promised himself that he’d keep his silence for now, but that didn’t mean this was the end of it.

      “Now,” Walter said firmly, “if that’s settled, I’d like to continue. After all, the heart and soul of the will is what we’re here to discuss today.” He paused only long enough to smooth one hand across his neatly trimmed silver beard. “I appreciate you all coming in on such short notice, and I promise to get through this as quickly as possible.”

      Sage didn’t know if the man was deliberately trying to pump up the suspense in the room or if he was just a naturally dramatic lawyer. But either way, it was working. Everyone there shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Walter read aloud the strange, coma-inducing legal phrases leading up to the actual bequests. One or two of those phrases resonated with Sage.

      Sound in mind and body. Well, in mind, anyway, Sage told himself. J.D. had been sick for a while, but the old man’s brain was as sharp the day he died as it was when he was nothing but a kid starting out. Which meant J.D. had had a reason for keeping these so-called secrets from the family even after his death. A flicker of anger bristled inside him, and Sage admitted silently that it sucked to be angry at a dead man, because you had no way of confronting him. J.D. was probably loving this, he thought. Even after he was gone, he was still running the show.

      But as soon as he had the chance, Sage promised himself a long talk with J.D.’s lawyer.

      “To my dear sister-in-law, Marlene...” Walter paused to smile at the woman in question. “I leave a ten-percent share in the Big Blue ranch along with ownership of the main ranch house for as long as she lives. I also leave her enough cash to maintain her lifestyle—” Walter broke off and added, “J.D. got tired of all the ‘legal speak,’ as he called it, and had me write the rest down just as he spoke it.” He took a breath and continued, “Marlene, I want you to have some fun. Get on out there and enjoy your life. You’re a good-looking woman and too damn young to fold up and die alone.”

      Marlene sniffed, then laughed shortly and mopped at her tears. The rest of the room chuckled with her, and even Sage had to smile. He could hear the old man’s gruff voice as if he were there with them. J.D. and Marlene had been an unofficial couple for years. More than that though, Marlene had been a rock to three motherless young kids and to a man who had lost the love of his life.

      “To Chance Lassiter, my nephew, I leave a sixty-percent share in Big Blue and enough cash to take some time and enjoy yourself a little.” Walter paused and added, “The cash amounts mentioned in the will are specific and will be discussed privately with each of you at a later date.”

      Chance looked stunned and Sage was glad for him. The man loved that ranch and cared for it every bit as meticulously as J.D. had himself.

      “You take care of Blue, Chance,” Walter kept reading, “and she’ll do the same for you.”

      “To Colleen Falkner,” he went on and Sage shifted his gaze to the blonde. “I leave the sum of three million dollars.”

      Colleen gasped and rocked back in her chair. Blue eyes wide, mouth open, she stared at Walter as if he had two heads. If she was acting then send her an Oscar fast, Sage thought dryly. She looked as genuinely surprised as he was. J.D. had left three million dollars to his nurse?

      Walter kept reading. “Colleen, you’re a good girl and with this money, I want you to go on and chase your dream down. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

      “Oh, my—” She shook her head in disbelief, but Walter was moving on already and Sage braced himself for whatever came next.

      “To my son Dylan Lassiter, I leave controlling interest in Lassiter Grill Group, and enough cash to tide you over while you take it to the top. Oh, and I’m giving you ten-percent share of the Big Blue, too. It’s your home, never forget that.”

      Beside Sage, Dylan looked shell-shocked and he couldn’t blame him. Hell, the man was now the owner of one of the fastest-growing restaurant groups in the country. If that didn’t stop your heart a little, you weren’t human.

      “My son Sage Lassiter—”

      Sage tensed for whatever was coming. He wouldn’t have put it past J.D. to take one last swipe at him from the grave. To remind him publicly of the distance that had grown between them over the years. Like oil and water, Sage thought, he and J.D. had just never managed to mix well together.

      “Sage,” Walter read with a shake of his head, “you’re my son and I love you. We butted heads too many times to count, but make no mistake, you’re a Lassiter through and through. I’m leaving you twenty-five-percent