“You were the only people mentioned in Beau Marshall’s will,” Steve began. “Colt, you were named, as well as his grandchildren. After Josh’s death, Beau updated his will so that their mother would be conservator of their inheritance if he were to die while they were still minors.”
“He knew about them,” Colt said woodenly.
“Yes,” Steve confirmed. “He did. He spoke to me about them after they were born.”
“Josh told him about my pregnancy,” Jane said. “Josh died when I was about six months pregnant and he was deployed. Anyway, I emailed Beau with a couple of pictures once they were born. I think Josh would have wanted that.”
“Did anyone else know?” Colt asked, still trying to make sense of all of this in his head. How much had his uncle been hiding from him?
“Not that I know of,” Steve replied. “Beau was a man who kept his own counsel. I think you know that.” Steve opened a file folder and looked between Colt and Jane.
“A conservator—what does that mean?” Jane asked.
“It means that you will be able to manage your daughters’ inheritance as you see fit and split the remainder of it between them when they turn eighteen.”
“Oh...”
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Steve said.
Colt looked over at Jane, and she glanced toward him at the same time. She looked nervous—her lips were pale and she was fidgeting with that plastic bag of crackers. He knew what Beau had promised him, but he also knew exactly how far Beau could be trusted. Somehow, after Josh left because of this will and all the pain the family went through surrounding it, Colt hadn’t considered the idea that Beau might change the will completely. But it was possible.
“To Colt Hardin, my nephew, I leave the ranch,” Steve read, his voice calm and quiet, and Colt felt a wave of relief. “I leave him all of the land, the buildings and the debt that has accrued over the years. Of anyone, Colt will be able to make something of it. I’m pleased to keep this ranch in the family.”
The ranch. Thank You, God. He knew the land was mortgaged to the hilt, but if everything just continued as it was, he could work his way out of debt. The ranch was his. Uncle Beau had done as he’d promised, and Colt could go on running this ranch like he’d hoped.
Steve turned toward Jane. “And to my grandchildren, the children of my only son, Joshua Marshall, I leave the herd to be split between them equally.”
The lawyer’s words hung in the air, and Colt felt like his breath had been knocked out of his chest. Beau had left Colt the land, but he’d given his toddler granddaughters the cattle? How on earth was he supposed to run a floundering ranch when he didn’t own the actual animals? Beau had kept his promise, all right. Colt had the land. But without that herd, without the income at market time, Colt could lose it all.
Jane stared at the lawyer as the moment seemed to slow down and stretch out in front of her. She’d had no idea what Josh’s dad had left to her girls, but the fact that he’d named them in his will had felt like an answer to prayer when she’d gotten the call. Jane didn’t know what she’d been hoping for, besides some family connection for her daughters. She had some death benefits from the military, but most of that had been soaked up in paying off debt. Josh had been a spender—when he got home, he didn’t want to worry about “bills and stuff.” He just wanted to enjoy the American Dream. So now she was proudly debt free, but very little was left over besides the monthly payments that came to her. And twins were expensive to raise. She had to find a way to provide for her daughters because her job with a maid service had just ended. But cattle?
“What does that mean, exactly?” Jane asked hesitantly. “He gave my daughters cows?”
The lawyer nodded. “Yes.”
“How many cows are in the herd, exactly?” she asked.
The lawyer smiled indulgently. “Currently, it consists of four hundred and eighty cows.”
“What am I supposed to do with them?” she asked feebly.
Micha put a sodden cracker into Jane’s hand, and she instinctively closed her fingers around it.
“That’s where you have some decisions to make,” Mr. Davis replied. “You have a few options. Once the paperwork is finalized, of course.”
“Of course...” she breathed. “But what options?”
“You could sell the herd back to Colt here, for one,” Mr. Davis replied. “Or you could move the herd to another ranch, if you own one.”
“I don’t,” she murmured.
“Or you could work out some other deal with Colt.”
Jane looked over at Colt, but his expression was granite. He was staring at a spot on the carpet between his boots. Right now, she didn’t even know where she was going to stay. She was homeless with two little girls and nothing but the hope of an inheritance to sustain her. She could feel the tears rising up inside her.
“First things first, though,” Mr. Davis said cheerily. “It’s going to take a week before all of this becomes finalized. Then you can both talk to your banks and decide upon a course of action.”
“The inheritance is for my girls, though,” Jane said. “You said I’m allowed to sell the cattle?”
“Beau has his will set up in such a way that you, as their mother, can manage their inheritance—the cattle or the money gotten from the sale of them—until they are eighteen. At which point, whatever is left will be divided between them. He wanted to make sure that you could provide for them in their formative years.”
“Okay...” That was particularly kind of her late father-in-law. Jane didn’t want to deprive her girls of their rightful inheritance from their grandfather, but she did need to care for the girls in the
