He plucked a folded sheet of paper from the inside of his coat pocket, unfolded it, perused it a moment and handed it to Jordy. “Jordan Jackson, Rudolph Kilgore, Theresa Wyman, Tige and Juana Marshall, and Sierra Wills.”
Jordy had no idea how everyone fit into Jack’s arrangements. They had never discussed such things. It was none of his business, and Jack always held his cards close to the vest. “I will get word to them. Tige and Rudy are on a horse drive right now, but I expect them back by day after tomorrow. If not, I will just have to let you know.”
“We could reschedule, but I think it would be desirable to make the will’s contents known as soon as possible.”
“Okay, Frank. I will see that everyone is notified.”
They shook hands, and Russo disappeared.
Jordy again moved toward the clusters of people, who from their laughter, seemed to have turned the funeral supper into a festive occasion. He smiled. Jack would have liked that, too. Sort of an Irish wake. He wondered if he would always see things through Jack’s eyes.
Before he reached the group he was headed for, Jordy was intercepted again, this time by Rusty. “Boss, I need to talk to you private-like for just a minute.”
Jordy did not consider himself the boss, but he guessed he was making decisions because of the current void, so he did not correct the foreman. “What is it, Rusty?”
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything because of all the funeral arrangements and all, and I know you’ve been hit hard as hell.”
“Go ahead, Rusty.”
“I didn’t want to say anything, but when I was in town last week I stopped by Tobe’s Tavern for a sandwich and a beer. There is something there you should see as soon as possible.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Rusty.”
“Boss, I think you should just see for yourself.”
Jordy sighed. “I’ve got to go into town tomorrow to talk to Juana at the freight office. I’ll stop at Tobe’s and have a beer.” He avoided Tobe’s generally. Tobe Marx maintained a dump, and the tavern was mostly a sideline to the whoring business he ran upstairs. But his interest had certainly been piqued. Curiosity would push him to Tobe’s tomorrow.
Chapter Fifty-Six
After the last buggy headed down the trail away from the house in darkness, Sierra entered the house and went to the kitchen to thank Josephina and Consuelo for their work in organizing an unplanned funeral supper. “Thank you for all you did today,” she said to the two women who were finishing their cleanup. “I understand why Jack thought of you as a part of his family. This would have been a horrendous experience if you had not been here to take charge.”
Josephina said, “You are welcome, but we loved Jack. Our hearts are heavy.” She made no effort to brush away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “He was watching today, though, and he would have been so proud of his granddaughter. That you carry his blood was never clearer.”
Consuelo, also teary-eyed, smiled, “But I have heard Jack sing a few times, and your voice must have come from some other ancestor.”
“You both have been so kind to me.” She hugged each of them and stepped back. “And any voice I have was my mother’s doing, I assure you. It did not come from the Wills family.” She changed the subject. “Have you seen Jordy?”
Consuelo said, “He is in the library.”
“I haven’t spoken with him since the graveside service. I caught glimpses of him talking to different folks. I guess I will go see if he would mind some company.”
Consuelo said, “I promise he won’t mind.”
When Sierra went into the library, she saw Jordy seated in Jack’s leather upholstered chair, gazing at the wall of books shelved on the opposite side of the room.
“May I join you?” she asked.
Jordy turned his head and stood up. “Of course.” He nodded toward his chair’s twin on the opposite side of the lamp table, setting it at an angle more suitable for comfortable conversation before Sierra sat down.
“Are you a wine drinker?” Jordy asked.
“I am not a connoisseur by any measure, but I would try a glass.”
“Jack didn’t drink often, but if he did it was wine, and I guess he was as close to a connoisseur as we would have at the Lucky Five. He kept bottles and glasses in the cupboard behind the lamp table here.”
Jordy put two wine glasses on the lamp table, which was within reach of both. Then he plucked a bottle from the cupboard shelf. “This is red wine. Jack preferred red wines. The label is French, so I can’t tell you what it is.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything to me anyway, but if it is French it has got to be good, doesn’t it?”
Jordy shrugged, poured two glasses, and set the bottle on the table. He handed a glass to Sierra and returned to his chair. “We should drink to Jack,” he said, reaching over with his wine glass and holding it up. She touched her own to Jordy’s. “To Jack Wills,” she said. “A legend in his time.”
“To Jack,” Jordy said.
They both sipped at their wine. The liquid seemed bitter to Sierra, and she wrinkled her nose.
Jordy smiled, “The second will go down easier.”
He was right. She looked about the room. “Thor. Where is Thor? He was always by your chair.”
“He is still at the cemetery. It was the occupant not the chair that brought him here. I took him a pan of water and a big sack of food scraps earlier. He just sniffed it then. I’m hoping he will eat it later.”
“What do we do?”
“Give him time, I guess. Maybe in a day or two we can coax him over. He used to sleep with me when Jack was gone. We’ll think of something. I don’t think we could drag him over here right now. He is where he wants to be.”
“It is so
