“Only five,” I answer meekly.
“And if you’re being realistic, there will be more. Correct?”
I glare at him. I know he’s only doing his job, but the words sting. Of course, as the saying goes, the truth hurts, right? “If I were to guess, I think maybe two more,” I answer honestly. But that would still leave me with fifteen yearlings to train next year and we still have the horses we board. Besides, there’s a little cushion money left over after I pay
the inheritance tax to tide me over until I can get the clientele built back up again.
The suit gazes at me a long moment. I can’t really identify the expression on his face. “Bud anticipated this reaction from your clientele, Edie. Not because he doubted your abilities, but because you’re a young woman and he feared the clients would take your youth as a sign of inexperience.” He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. “His will states that within six months you must have at least seventy-five percent of the total business the farm had when he passed. Also, one of your newer horses must place in the top three in a maiden race in those six months as well.”
I stare at him blankly. Is he serious? Placing top three in a maiden race is possible, definitely a realistic goal, but gaining back the full percentage of the business in six months might be a challenge. “And what if I can’t?”
“The farm will be sold and the money will be set in a trust for you to live off of comfortably for the rest of your life.”
“What?” I shriek. This can’t be happening. “Why would he do this?”
“I haven’t read his letter to you, but I’m guessing it explains his reasons and also explains my involvement.” The suit stands and begins placing papers back in his briefcase. “I’ll see you
first thing tomorrow morning and we can go over any questions you might have.”
“Okay,” I reply numbly with a nod, not thinking to ask why he would be seeing me in the morning.
“Very well,” the suit responds and then proceeds to hurriedly pass by me on his way to the front door. When he’s gone, I stare at the envelope that’s still on the table. I know whatever Daddy Bud wrote, it’s important. He wasn’t a man that liked to make a big fuss over anything, so he must’ve been worried about what would happen after he passed.
My grandfather, Bud James, otherwise known to me as Daddy Bud, raised me since I was nine when my mother was killed in a car accident. I’ve lived with him on his two hundred acre farm just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina in a little town called Holly Springs.
My grandfather has owned land here since before my mother was born and it’s where I first learned to raise and train horses with him. Horse training is a legacy in my family, a birth right passed down from generation to generation. My grandfather took the land and the skill from his father and so on. I’ve loved every minute of my life here, but when I was younger I wondered if there was more. Was I destined to be the next generation’s horse trainer or had the stars written something else? So, when I graduated high school, I ran away with all of my friends to college in the big city, determined to see what else the world had to offer. I only made it two years before I came home. With Daddy Bud’s health deteriorating and my newly broken heart, coming home was an easy decision. Besides, Daddy Bud needed me. And I realized I didn’t mind coming home. In fact, I was happy to. I love working on the farm; training horses. It’s my passion.
And that’s what makes the thought of losing it so hard to swallow.
With trembling hands I open the envelope.
Edie
Bug,
I know you must be surprised now that you’ve met Mr. Wilson. My conditions for you to keep the farm are simple. Although they are listed in more legal terms in the documents Mr. Wilson will present to you, I shall explain them in this letter so that you might understand better why I require these things of you.
First, you’ve always been so grateful to me for taking you in. Let me just say that it is I that is grateful, love bug. You have been a blessing beyond words. A grandfather never had a better grandchild. I know when it was time for you to do things in your life, like go to college, you came back. You thought I’d go down in flames without you. Maybe I would have, and it was selfish of me to let you give up on dreaming bigger than this farm. I’m glad you’ve come to cherish this farm as much as me. It’s a life not suited for everyone.
So it is with my will that I implore you. Think bigger than the farm. With your inheritance and the sale of the land, you could live comfortably for the rest of your life. You could travel, see the world. But if you wish to keep it, I have set requirements. It’s not enough to love this farm, Edie. It owns you in every way. The inheritance tax will take a huge chunk out of the money I’ve left you and the remainder could easily dry up if you’re unable to maintain enough income through training. That is why I have set my will this way. Six months for you to prove you can do this and decide if you truly want to do this.
Mr. Wilson is the grandson of a dear friend of mine that passed away a few years back. As a favor to me, Mr. Wilson agreed to come stay on the farm with you for three months after I passed to help make sure everything runs smoothly. Don’t take this as me thinking you couldn’t handle it alone. This three month stay has been planned for some time, this letter was only written in case the unforeseen happened, like my death. Johnny Wilson and I have an agreement and he must fulfill his end for our affairs to be in order. I know you’ll be grieving and having an extra hand may be more helpful than you think. And don’t worry. You’ll still be in charge.
Mr. Wilson will stay on the farm with you in one of the guest bedrooms.
Now don’t be stubborn, bug. Do as your Daddy Bud says. It’s my dying wish.
Remember, this farm is home. Your home. But home can also be somewhere else. Home is a place where love resides and rests easy. Love should always be easy.
Be careful and know you made me a happy old man.
Loving you from heaven,
Daddy Bud
Tears roll down my face as I fold his letter and return it to its envelope. I pick up the forms and begin reading through them. I still can’t wrap my mind around what arrangement the suit would’ve had with my grandfather. None of this makes any sense. Did it have something to do with money?
Daddy Bud was a tight ass—his words, not mine. Other than a few things like my horses, keeping his farm house, that has been in his family for generations, up to date, and equipment for the farm, he didn’t spend money frivolously. In fact, he drove a 1982 Chevy S-10 until the day he died. By far the crappiest looking truck I’ve ever seen, but like I said, he wasn’t one to indulge. It’s sitting in my driveway half rusted out, but I’ll never sell it. It was his and that means something to me. I had no idea until he passed how much money he actually had. His overall wealth included two million plus the farm. The sharecropping from tobacco farming has treated him well not to mention inheritance from his own father. But he was right. The inheritance tax alone will take over half of the money by the time they determine the value of the land. I huff realizing this man struggled his entire life to build this farm to what it is and the government just gets to come in and take half of it away. What a joke.
The suit was right. If I sell the farm I could live comfortably for the rest of my life. Selling the farm would never be an option though.
Never
.
I knew he must’ve been something lawyer-like. Pushing the papers away I wipe at my face. I need to take a shower and tend to my horses. Maybe I should wait on the shower.
“You okay?” Dierk asks from the doorway. When I spin around he’s fully dressed in his clothes from the night before.
“You spent the night?” I ask incredulously.
He smirks. “Yeah, it was late and you said I could.”
My stomach flips. “We didn’t—”
“No, Edie. We didn’t. I’m not into banging women that are passed out, but now that you’re awake, if you’re offering I could certainly oblige.”
“Not offering.” I roll my eyes. “Uh, what was with the come in here half-naked and calling me beautiful bit? He thought you were my boyfriend.”
Dierk approaches me and runs his knuckles over my cheek. “Well, you are beautiful.” I can’t help it, I blush. When a guy like Dierk calls you beautiful, you blush. “Secondly, I saw the way he was looking at you last night at the bar.”
“How was that?” I ask, intrigued.
“Forgive me, but he was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you.”
“Jesus, Dierk!” I exclaim. “No he wasn’t. He’s some legal guy my grandfather hired. It’s all business.”
“It looked like he was interested in a little more than business when he saw me. He was pissed when he thought you and I…ya know.” He arches one sexy as hell eyebrow.
“Yeah, thanks for that by the way. And by thanks I mean, what the heck was that?” I scold him. Who in their right mind does something like that?
“Edie, you are one of my oldest friends. Nicest too. You’re like a hidden treasure. So beautiful and innocent. I just want to make sure any guy that comes along realizes you’re not an easy target.”
I stare at him blankly and wonder if he really expects me to believe the nonsense coming out of his mouth. I mean, his little bit made me
look just that—easy. Like I said, Dierk works for nothing. I’m sure if I volunteered to have sex with him, he’d gladly accept, but as it is, that will never happen. But I get the feeling maybe Dierk has been paying me a little more attention than I thought. Was his intrusion in front of the suit his way of marking his territory, so to speak? No, that couldn’t be it. Dierk and I are miles apart in life.
“Well, I appreciate that.”
Lie.
“But next time, I can handle myself.”
“Okay.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.
“I have to tend to the horses,” I sigh with exhaustion.
“Joey texted me a while ago and said they’re all taken care of. He figured you’d be feeling rough today.”
“Oh God. He saw your truck here. He thinks we—”
“I told him we didn’t. Don’t worry,” Dierk interrupts my panic attack. “No one would believe sweet and innocent Edie James would have a one night stand.” He smirks.
I don’t want anyone thinking I hooked up with Dierk, so on one hand I’m relieved, but on another I hate the words that just came out of his mouth. Like my wholesome reputation is something to scoff at. I hate that he and pretty much every other man in this town see me as some virgin princess—which I’m not—that would never or could never do anything bad. I could be bad if the right opportunity presented itself. It just hasn’t and even when it does, I don’t want to flaunt it. Why can’t I just find a guy to let loose with and keep it between us?
“Can you give me a ride into town to get my car?” I huff, pushing aside my thoughts.
“Sure thing, Edie.”
After Dierk drops me off at my car that’s still parked in front of Earl’s bar, I immediately drive straight over to Mr. Carl Wayward’s office. His receptionist tries to stop me from barging into his office, but fails miserably.
“Carl!” I say his name loudly as I barrel through his door. My steps stop abruptly though when I see the suit turn and stare at me from his seat in front of Wayward’s desk. He’s still in full suit uniform, looking amazing as usual. I’m still wearing my dirty wrinkled jeans from last night and a baggy sweatshirt. Carl rises from his seat and clears his throat.
“Edie, it appears you’ve already met Mr. Wilson.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, we’ve met.”
“Why don’t you come in and have a seat.” Carl motions to the chair next to the suit and gives his receptionist a dismissive wave letting her know
it’s okay that I stampeded into his office uninvited and without an appointment.
“Ms. James.” The suit nods to me in greeting.
“Suit.” I nod in return. I have no idea why I feel compelled to act like such a winch to this guy, but I do. They say don’t shoot the messenger, but dang it, it would feel good to. On one hand, I’m extremely attracted to him, like roll your freaking tongue up attracted, but on the other hand, I can’t stand him. My grandfather made this man present me with a will he knew would shatter me, plus made him my escort or helper for the summer and although it may not be the suit’s fault, I hate him for that.
He smiles at my nickname for him. “I’m still trying to conjure up a nickname for you.”
I give him a quick glare before turning my attention to Carl.
“Have you seen this, Carl?” I whine as I get down to business. “Please tell me we can release Mr. Wilson of any obligations.”
“I’m afraid not, Edie. It’s all legit. In order for Mr. Wilson to close out his business with Bud, he has to work and stay at the farm for ninety days.” Carl gives me a sympathetic look. “It’s what Bud wanted.”
And those words hit me dead center in my chest. Carl is right. It is what Daddy Bud wanted and no matter how much I hate this, I have to honor his wishes. I owe that to him. But it doesn’t make it easy especially when I have no idea
why
Daddy Bud set this up.
“What business did you have with him?”
The suit chuckles beside me. “It’s private.”
“Mr. Wilson,” Carl says his name respectfully. “Might I have a word with Edie alone?”