“What are you doing here?” Sterling hisses when he sees Tucker.
“I invited him,” Abbie says. “I’ve got nothing to hide, and I’m hoping this helps prove our innocence.”
“You should’ve spoken to me first,” Sterling insists.
“Why?” Abbie asks with a frown.
“Mrs. Gilbert let’s take a seat,” Artley suggests and guides Abbilene to a corner seat near the door, and away from Sterling.
Artley claims the seat beside Abbie, forcing Sterling to sit on the other side of her lawyer. “Mrs. Gilbert, I will explain the process to you, so you will understand what is happening.”
Tucker sits directly across from Abbie and listens carefully as they wait for Mr. Cochran.
While Artley goes through the process of the reading of the will, Tucker’s eyes trace her figure. The dark blue dress is a change for the better. At least a change from the black that seems to paint her world right now.
Abbie shifts an angry glare to Tucker, and she frowns when he smiles softly at her.
“I see we have a full house,” Mr. Cochran says as he walks into the room. Silver hair and kind eyes put Abbilene at ease when he first offers his condolences to the family.
“This is an unusual case, Mrs. Gilbert. I’m glad you brought your own lawyer.” He sits at the end of the table and places a folder in front of him.
“I will begin by stating that I am reading the last will and testament of Burton Gilbert. Is any of Burton’s family coming?
“Both of his parents are deceased. Abbilene and I are all that’s left of his family,” Sterling replies softly.
“Very well.” Mr. Cochran flips open the folder and lifts his spectacles to his eyes to start reading. “I will begin.”
“In the event of my death, I, Burton Gilbert, being of sound mind, gift all of my holdings to my wife, Abbilene Gilbert.”
Artley nods when Mr. Cochran pauses and looks at him. “That’s excellent. The word gift is important. It ensures that your ownership can’t be challenged.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Cochran continues reading all of Burton’s substantial holdings including an insurance policy for two hundred thousand dollars on Gilbert Mill.
Sterling gasps and Abbilene pales. “I don’t understand,” Abbilene says, “he never mentioned a life insurance policy.”
“The policy was taken out in case of fire. Apparently, Burton was concerned with the number of accidents that have been happening in other parts of the country as he traveled.”
“Why didn’t he say something?” Sterling demands. “We could have changed…”
“Let me finish, son. He was working intensely in San Francisco with a designer to create the plans for a new Mill. Here is a copy of the plans.”
Mr. Cochran slides the plans over to Abbilene and looks up at her. “Inside you will also find copies of the Mills who have experienced issues with fire and explosions similar to what your Mill experienced.”
Abbie flips through the papers and slides the copies to Tucker across the table. “Will this be sufficient to clear us of any wrongdoing, Sheriff?”
“It should. I will happily pass along this information to the Mayor,” Tucker replies. “I will make sure this is printed in the next newspaper and have the Pastor explain it as well.”
“Thank you,” she replies.
Mr. Cochran clears his voice, “Mrs. Gilbert, there’s a stipulation to the will.”
“What kind of stipulation?” Sterling asks.
Abbilene watches the lawyer, and when he glances away from her to the other people in the room, she grows nervous.
“You are to be gifted everything, as long as you agree to one thing.” Mr. Cochran glances nervously at her.
“What, exactly?” she asks softly.
“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. He requested that you are to adopt and raise his son as your own. He is five years old and living in a San Francisco orphanage.”
All the color fades from Abbie’s face, and she gasps in horror and shock. No one speaks for a moment, and Abbilene begins to tremble from head to toe.
“His name is Mason. I had some difficulty finding the child after the mother died,” all the noise fades from the room, and a ringing sound erupts in her ears.
Abbie jumps to her feet, “Excuse me,” she runs from the room and grabs the secretary’s trash can just in time to vomit.
Sobbing an excuse to the shocked woman, Abbie runs. Sterling is shouting at Tucker who is trying to get around the table and past him to stop Abbie.
They are too slow. She’s gone.
“Well that went well,” Artley says to a shocked room of men.
Chapter 12
Abbilene sits in the pews and stares up at the small wooden cross hanging behind the pulpit. Rage is rippling through her body, and all she can think is that he lied to her for years! Why wasn’t she enough for him? Why did he have to seek refuge in another woman’s arms? She grips the wooden pew in front of her and bows her head to her hands.
“Please help me,” she pleads.
“You’ve come to the right place for that,” Pastor Jacobs says. Pine floors creak beneath his feet as he moves into the pew beside her.
Abbie looks up and doesn’t bother to wipe the tears that flow. “I’m so confused,” she whispers. “Please help me,” she pleads louder.
“Mrs. Gilbert…”
“Don’t call me that!” Fury has her leaping to her feet. “I shouldn’t have come here!” She rushes to the end of the pew determined to leave. “He hasn’t helped me all of these years. I should know better.”
“Wait! Please don’t go,” Pastor Jacobs pleads.
Abbie stops and looks at him. “I’m so lost,” tremors rack her body, and she hangs her head. Pastor Jacobs approaches her slowly, afraid to startle her. He takes her gently by the
