Wander Canyon Courtship

Kelly hugged her. “Hang in there, okay? It’ll work out.”

Yvonne nodded and said, “Sure,” but she didn’t feel any confidence that it would. At least not anytime soon.

Chapter Five

Cecil gave a low howl as he wobbled around the cabin’s little kitchen.

“I hear you, buddy.” Chaz frowned at the sad mug of instant coffee produced from the bottle he found in the cupboards. He dumped sugar into it and tried not to think of the much better coffee Yvonne must be brewing at Bliss Bakery. She made fabulous coffee. He took another sip and grimaced, thinking he’d had better from gas station vending machines. Still, caffeine was caffeine, and he needed it in any form. “At least you’ve got chow.” He poured the packet of kibble out and set it down next to the bowl of water he’d just refilled. “Eat up. I’ll head out and get some better stuff and gear in a bit.”

Big grateful eyes looked up at him before Cecil ducked his nose into the food and began chewing noisily. Chaz considered the dog again, still a bit dumfounded he’d done what he’d done. I own a dog. One I’ve got to figure out how to get back to Wander. What just happened?

It struck Chaz that he’d found reason to ask that particular question often since being in Matrimony Valley. Right now he didn’t have strong enough coffee to answer it. He wasn’t sure strong enough coffee to answer that question even existed.

Cecil’s 8:00 a.m. appointment with Dr. Mullins was in fifteen minutes, enough time for even Cecil’s limping, comical gait to make it the three blocks to Puppy Love Veterinary Care. Honestly. The name made Chaz cringe more than the terrible coffee.

The whole town’s romance gimmick stumped him. Yvonne and even Bruce Lohan had told him how Mayor Jean had forgone her family’s name to rechristen Matrim’s Valley to Matrimony Valley in order to bring it back to life. It was an admirable—and clearly successful—idea, but too cheesy for him. Was Yvonne’s cheerful, energetic personality fueled by living in such a constant state of hearts and flowers? Or could only someone with her outlook tolerate living here? And what was driving his curiosity about her, anyway?

Cecil wolfed down the last of his food, licking his chops with a satisfied slurp. Chaz downed the last of his coffee with nowhere near such enthusiasm, then slipped the makeshift leash over the dog’s head and grabbed the cabin keys off the counter. “Off we go.”

He took note—again—of the romance-themed business names as he and Cecil made their way down Aisle Avenue. There was a Love in Bloom Flower Shop, and a Sweet Hearts Ice Cream Parlor, among others. Even the fishing outfitters he’d visited yesterday was called Catch Your Match, and, of course, the place where he’d been staying until last night was called Hailey’s Inn Love.

The only store to evade a gooey name was Watson’s Diner, which smelled delicious enough to make his stomach growl as he walked past. A hand-lettered sign gave him the welcome news that $3.99 would buy him two eggs, toast and coffee. The words No Takeout in red letters underneath, however, warned him it would have to wait. “I might need to head over there after we get you squared away,” he told Cecil.

He’d give the town one thing: it was quiet and beautiful early in the morning. The mist hadn’t yet burned off the mountainside, and the hints of spectacular fall colors were just starting to show.

He tried to ignore the fact that Yvonne’s shop was already open. He told himself the urge to stop in was just because she would probably welcome Cecil inside for a minute while he got some great coffee and a doughnut.

It certainly couldn’t be because of how he kept recalling her wide, frightened eyes those first few moments after the crash. Or the heartsick, mewling sound she’d made when they first came upon injured Cecil. Most of all, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the warm, baffled look of surprise she gave him when he declared Cecil was coming home with him. What just happened? indeed.

Dr. Mullins was a nice enough guy, friendly and supportive of Chaz’s impulsive dog acquisition. “Good-looking animal,” he said, running his hands over the dog. “Underfed, so I expect he’ll be grateful to you. And loyal.”

Loyal. Now, there was a word that stuck in Chaz’s throat this morning.

“I want to draw some blood, take another X-ray, give him a thorough once-over and put a microchip in.” Mullins flipped a page on his clipboard. “Let me keep him for an hour or two. You look like you could use breakfast and coffee. You probably passed Watson’s. Wanda fries up a good egg.”

Chaz gave Cecil a good pat. “I’ll swing back for you in a bit.” He took the wag of Cecil’s tail as a sign of cooperation and promptly headed into Watson’s Diner to wolf down a breakfast of his own.

Chaz devoured his food, bought a leash, collar and feeding bowls from the Have N Hold Home and Garden store, and then stared across the street. It was time to face Dad.

* * *

Yvonne stared out the window at Chaz. He was standing on the sidewalk, staring at the inn. Even from here, she could see his clenched fists.

She and Mama didn’t really get along, but it had never been anything on the scale of what she’d seen last night. Mama never really voiced her vague disappointment. It just sort of leaked out.

She loved Janice and Rita, but Mama’s boasts about how well they were doing had begun to bother Yvonne. She was ashamed at how tales of their shiny, admirable families and their successful husbands grated on her. I chose to stay here. I love the valley and these people. I’m not sorry I didn’t marry Neal, and I’m not incomplete just because I’m still alone. How is it Mama and my sisters can make me feel as if I’ve been left behind?

She couldn’t yet explain the unfamiliar need to do something else, go somewhere new. It made no sense given Bliss Bakery’s moderate success. Still, the thought of gearing up next spring for another wedding season left her feeling weary rather than excited. And, when she was honest, entirely too single.

Was that why Chaz managed to capture her attention? Yvonne watched Chaz’s tall frame square itself for father-and-son battle. He looked strong and stomped on at the same time.

God, bless that curmudgeon and his new dog. The prayer surprised her. Pauline was a woman of faith and would never marry Hank if he wasn’t, as well. Did that mean Chaz believed in God’s sovereignty over a thorny situation like this? I don’t know where Chaz is going to go from here, so I hope You do.

* * *

Even though part of him wanted to put a hundred miles between himself and his stepfather, Chaz crossed the street and headed up the stairs to Dad’s hotel room. His anger seemed to boil back up with every step closer. They were going to have this out. Might as well do it here and now.

The door opened even before Chaz raised his fist to pound on it. Dad had bumped his head on the van’s door pillar, and now a long black bruise arched over Dad’s eye. It clashed with the wary look in the old man’s eyes.

Dad shrugged as he caught Chaz’s stare. “You should see the other guy.” It was a standard crack they’d made anytime Chaz or Wyatt or anyone came home with a black eye. While Chaz had done it only a couple of times, Wyatt made it a regular habit.

The use of the family joke just made everything worse. “I am the other guy.” Chaz made no attempt to lighten his words as he walked into the room.

“Would you have really socked me?” Dad’s question needed no further explanation.

“Might’ve.” It wasn’t really true. It’d be lying to say the urge to haul off and punch his father hadn’t risen up—he was that angry about the ranch’s succession to Wyatt—but Chaz would never have actually hit the man. Even a betrayal this large couldn’t untangle years of respect.

Well, not yet, at least.

“You sore?” Dad asked.

“Some.”

“I expect so.”

Suddenly Chaz wasn’t sure why he’d come here. Dad had clearly made up his mind. What was the point in talking about it further?

“I kept the dog.”

Dad scoffed. “You what?”

“I kept the dog. I have him here. Well, out in a cabin at Bruce Lohan’s place because the inn doesn’t take pets.” Pets. He had a pet. Another wave of the What just happened? storm surrounding him lately.

Dad looked at him as if that was the most startling thing that had happened last night. “What are you going to do with a dog?”

Out of nowhere, a spurt of anger that Dad failed to recognize he’d always wanted a dog burned through Chaz’s chest.

“Clearly not keep it on Wander, now, will I?” he shouted.

It was a stupid statement. Dad hadn’t said a word about putting him off the land. As far as he knew, he was perfectly welcome to continue living in the house he called home. And Cecil, too, for that matter. As of last night, however, Chaz felt irrationally homeless. As if the land beneath his feet had been yanked out from under him—which wasn’t so far off the truth.

“Settle down, Chaz. You’re taking this wrong.”

How else was he supposed to take this? Dad offered no explanation or defense. His silence told Chaz what he already knew: it was done. “Why?” He didn’t bother to soften the edge of his tone.

Dad met his glare with a hard stare of his own. “It was time.”

Chaz tossed the bag he’d been holding down on the coffee table. The bowls and leash clanged as they met the wood. He didn’t apologize for the loud noise. He walked past his stepfather and stood in front of the windows that looked out over the town. The street scene was what most people would probably call charming, but right now Chaz found the whole place suffocatingly happy. His eyes wandered to the cheery window of Bliss Bakery. Matrimony Valley may be fine for the likes of Yvonne, but he couldn’t stomach such an onslaught of happily-ever-afters. This place would only ever be the spot where his future imploded.

“I’ve been telling you it’s time to handle the succession for years.” Chaz turned back toward his stepfather. “So you pick here? Now?”

Dad’s back stiffened. “You’re telling me this would have been easier back in Colorado?”

The man had a point. Still... “In front of her? In front of both of them?”

Dad scratched his chin. “I doubt you’ll understand this, but maybe I wanted to hand down the hardest decision of my life with the woman I love by my side.”

Somehow that idea just made the whole thing worse. It connected him to Yvonne because he’d heard the toughest news of his life with her next to him at the table. The idea made his skin prickle.

Dad defiantly held his gaze. “You’re stronger than how unfair you think this is.”

Unfair? It was unfair that the man he had come to love like a father didn’t know what that land meant to him. Unfair that Dad failed to realize that he wanted Wander Canyon Ranch more than anything else in life. Or—even worse—did know it and denied him ownership of the ranch anyway.

Out of nowhere, Chaz’s mind raced back to the Sunday-school story of the prodigal son and the fit thrown by the loyal son at the party thrown for the wayward one. Unfair was absolutely the right word.

Chaz jabbed a finger at his stepfather. “Wyatt can’t do it, Dad.”

He waited for Dad to argue that, but instead Dad sighed in agreement. “Not without you he can’t. Not yet.” To Chaz’s surprise, he added, “But you could do it without Wyatt, couldn’t you?”

What on earth was that supposed to mean? As far as Chaz was concerned, he’d been running the ranch half without Wyatt from the start. He wanted to shout “Absolutely!” Only that seemed to be exactly what Dad wanted to hear, and Chaz wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction right now.

“I could,” he muttered instead.

“I know that.”

Chaz glared at him. “This isn’t right. None of it.”

“I know you see it that way.”

Dad’s simplistic answers were infuriating. “I should just get on a plane back to Wander right now.”

“I hope you don’t.”

Chaz wanted a fight. He wanted to have it out with his dad right now, to yell and argue and maybe even throw something. The low boil that had started in his chest last night at dinner was itching to spill over and do damage. There was probably a very good reason Hank put a thousand miles between him and Wyatt right now—Chaz couldn’t say what he’d do to his infuriating half brother if he was within arm’s reach at the moment.

Chaz paced the room, flexing and fisting his hands while his breath came in pants worthy of Cecil.

Dad planted his feet in the center of the room. “Go walk it off, Chaz.”

How dare Dad spout advice like that? Treat this massive injustice like a temper tantrum in the horse corral or some minor spat between him and Wyatt? You don’t just walk it off when someone yanks your future right out from under you, he wanted to shout.

To Chaz’s amazement, Dad opened the hotel room door and motioned him out.

“Seriously?”

Dad stood his ground. “I’ve made my decision. I know you don’t like it, and I didn’t expect you to. So go walk it off.”

Chaz glared right back.

Dad said nothing, only met Chaz’s angry eyes. He was being dismissed. Chaz was thirty years old and he couldn’t remember the last time Dad told him what to do with that tone in his voice. The old man was changing in ways that bugged him beyond comprehension. Chaz knew the stubborn set of that jaw, and knew that when Hank Walker made up his mind about something, you might as well carve it in stone.

So while he was steamed, and wanted to yell half a dozen things no son should ever yell at his father—stepdad or not—Chaz simply bit down on his tongue until it hurt, grabbed the bag off the coffee table and stalked out the open door.

He didn’t bother to say goodbye for fear of what else would come out behind the word.

Chapter Six

Yvonne held her breath as she stood beside Ziggy. Together they stared at the crumpled vehicle that had once been her bakery van. Ziggy resettled his baseball cap and gave a low whistle. “Nope. She’s a goner.”

Ziggy’s Valley Garage was one of the few businesses no one even considered renaming in the transformation from Matrim’s Valley to Matrimony Valley. Not only was Ziggy’s a memorable name, but no one had yet come up with a decently marriage-related garage name—although Mayor Jean had bemoaned a few horrid contenders. Not one person on the town council could ever stomach suggesting “The Marriage Carriage” to Jerome Zigler, so Ziggy’s Valley Garage stayed Ziggy’s.

Yvonne would have swallowed any ridiculous name if it had meant Ziggy gave her better news about her van. “You’re sure? You know I only had four more payments.” She moaned. “I was so looking forward to buying a new one in the spring.”

Ziggy nodded at the dented vehicle. “Gonna have to buy a new one now, I guess.” He shrugged. “Got good insurance?”

“I have insurance.”

Good was not the word that came to mind an hour ago when she ended her thirty-minute phone conversation with her insurance company. “But they won’t pay out enough for me to get a new one.” By the spring, she would have put away enough to be able to get a nice shiny new van.

Now the only van she could afford to buy would have to be another used one. It was hard to trust God would provide after such a double whammy of misfortune. This morning she couldn’t seem to muster enough faith to overpower the disappointed ache in her stomach.

“Tough break.” The mechanic put a commiserating hand on her shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye out for a bargain, if you like.”

All of North Carolina likely didn’t hold the bargain she’d need to meet this new challenge. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” With a resigned sigh, Yvonne held out her hand.

“Here you go.” Ziggy gave her the plastic bag she’d seen him holding as she walked up, the sight that told her the van was totaled even before the man spoke one word.

Ziggy’s strange ritual for goner cars was as much a part of town legend as the falls: when a car was declared totaled or dead, Ziggy would remove all the lug nuts from the wheels and hand them to the grieving customer like an undertaker handing over last personal effects. Valley residents would take the bag out back to the river that ran behind town and ceremoniously throw the lug nuts into the water in an odd ritual of farewell.

Everybody knew it was ridiculous, but everybody did it anyway. Yvonne often wondered just how large the pile of metal remembrances was down there at the bottom of the river. The thought that she was about to add to that pile settled hard as iron in her soul.

Her face must have shown the despair. “I can take ten dollars off the tow fee if you’ll bring by another box of doughnuts tomorrow morning,” he offered.

She had brought Ziggy a dozen doughnuts today as a thank-you for coming halfway to Asheville to pick up her van—or what was left of it—at no extra charge. That was one of the best things about the valley. Everybody looked out for everybody else. Even when her yearning for a life beyond the valley pulled as hard as it had this year, Yvonne could talk herself out of it by remembering this community. After all, how could she ever be sure the rest of the world held folks like Ziggy? Or Jean, or Kelly?

Such wondering didn’t matter because now she surely couldn’t afford to do anything but stay here. I should feel planted, Lord, but I feel stuck. Taking the bag, Yvonne left the garage with leaden steps. She turned her feet toward the river, steeling herself to toss the van’s “remains”—and what felt like any dreams of a bigger future—to their watery grave. She doubted tossing the sixteen metal pieces into the river would make her feel better. This morning her future seemed as totaled as the vehicle.

The sound of shouting stopped her a few yards back from the riverbank. Bursts of angry noise made her wonder if she was interrupting a fight of some kind, but the sound of something large hitting the water after each grunt made her curious.

She slowed down, keeping to the bushes until the curving shallow bank of the river came into view.

Chaz Walker stood there, hurling rocks into the water like grenades.

Cecil sat dutifully beside him, as if the two had been dog and owner for years instead of hours. Yvonne watched Chaz pick up another sizable rock, growl like an angry bear and send it flying into the water. While he uttered no words, she could hear the roar of his anger from her position by the trees.

There was someone else in town this morning who felt their future had been totaled. Yvonne believed lives didn’t intersect by chance, but why Chaz? Why now?

He threw two more rocks while she watched, and when he picked up a third, she turned to leave and come back another time. The sound of the rock hitting the bank with a defeated thud stopped her. She turned back toward the river to see Chaz just standing there, empty-handed, staring into the water. The set of his shoulders was pure hopeless frustration—much like hers, but then again, so much larger. After all, her loss was a van. Chaz had lost his claim to the place he called home. The lug nuts in her hands suddenly felt lighter than the large rock Chaz had let fall at his feet.

Cecil wobbled up to a stand—no easy task with the cast on his hind leg—and nudged up against Chaz. The silent show of friendship rose a lump in Yvonne’s throat, and she knew she couldn’t walk away.

“Good choice,” she called softly as she stepped out of the shade of the path and into the sunshine on the grassy riverbank. “Big rocks for big problems, my dad always said.”

Cecil turned and offered a woof of greeting. While Chaz startled a bit at her entrance, he mostly seemed too spent to care. It was just before noon, and the sheen of sweat on his face made Yvonne wonder just how long he’d been out here.

She walked toward him, holding out the bag in her hands. “Want to see how far you can send one of these?”

Chaz squinted in confusion at the contents. “Lug nuts?”

“Ziggy at the garage gives them to you to toss in the river when your car dies.”

He gave her exactly the look she’d expect from him at an oddball explanation like that. “You have to know how weird that sounds.”

Yvonne opened the bag and pulled one out. “Maybe it’s not so weird. I mean, what do rocks accomplish when you throw them?”

“Less harm than punches,” he said. There was something close to a shadow of a grin on his face. She’d never really seen him smile. He looked like he would have a handsome smile, but she doubted she’d ever get the chance to know.

“Still mad at your stepfather?” It was a silly question given the magnitude of what had happened last night.

Chaz nodded toward the lug nut. “If I told you I expect I could send this into Tennessee, does that answer your question?”

So he did have a tiny bit of humor in there somewhere. She handed the nut to him. “Let’s see.”

Chaz considered the nugget of metal for a moment. He then tossed it between his hands as if measuring its weight. With a final nod toward her, he turned toward the water, wound back his arm with a startling power and sent the shiny silver piece sailing what looked like miles upstream.

Crazy as it was, there really was a small zing of satisfaction to watching it fly in a sparkling arc. She did feel a tiny burst of closure as it dunked into the water with a resolute splash. Cecil barked and wagged his tail.

“Hmm,” she said, unsure of what comment to make. She settled for “Impressive.”

He gave her a dubious look before saying, “Your turn.”

Yvonne selected a nut, made a silly show of hefting it like Chaz had done and then sent it into the river perhaps a dozen yards away. While her throw was smaller by far in scale, the launch felt just as satisfying. She almost managed a laugh when Cecil barked an equal approval of her effort.

“What do you know?” she offered. “It does make you feel better.” She gave Cecil a generous pat before pulling another lug nut from the bag. “Have another go.”

“Oh, no.” He raised his hands as if to say I’m not getting involved in your crazy traditions. “They’re your ceremonial lug nuts.”

An actual joke. From Chaz Walker. She let herself enjoy the much-needed laughter. “But I like how far you can throw them.” She did. There was something about having the strength of him nearby, even last night, even amid his own pain. He seemed the sort to always stand steady while she felt as if she’d topple over at any moment.

She narrowed one eye at him, daring a bit of playfulness. “Think you can beat that last throw?”

There it was—the tiniest glimpse of a mischievous glint in his eye. He shifted his stance and raised one eyebrow. “Are you asking me for a personal-best dead-car lug-nut throw?”

She couldn’t help but like him. Just a bit. Sure, they were still at odds over Hank and Pauline, and the small tug she felt might be more commiseration than anything else. But for just this moment, here and now, Chaz Walker was the perfect antidote to all that was going wrong.

“As a matter of fact, I’m asking for a world-record dead-car lug-nut throw.” She plunked the scratched chrome piece into his hands, her fingertips brushing his calloused palm.

A split second of what? flashed between them before Chaz gave the nut a small toss or two. “World record?” he repeated, the mischievous look growing.

Was it odd to enjoy this? With him? “Epic,” she found herself replying. “Downright legendary.”

Their eyes connected for something that felt far too long before Chaz sent the piece of metal flying upstream a second time. An actual smile made it to his face when the nut splashed into the water perhaps a dozen yards farther than his first throw. Yes, Chaz Walker did indeed have a handsome smile. Rare, but handsome. Even Cecil offered a woof of congratulations.

Chaz turned to her. “Satisfied?”

“Surprisingly,” she replied, meaning it. She’d have to eat her words about Ziggy’s strange tradition after today. “Not that it helps with tomorrow’s wedding. Besides, I’ve got too much baking to do for Nancy’s reception to go down to Asheville to the rental car agency before then.”

Tomorrow’s wedding was another reason Pauline and Hank were in town. Nancy was a family friend, and their attendance at the event was supposed to have been an informal introduction of sorts of Hank to the family. Now her whole family would see how she couldn’t afford to replace the damaged van. The weekend just kept getting better.

“So how will you deliver the cake?”

“I only have to get everything across the street to Hailey’s inn.” She shrugged. “I’ll get some help to make it work.”

“I can give you a hand with that.”

She couldn’t have been more surprised. “You?”

“Seeing as I wrecked your car, it’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened to my van.” She nodded toward Cecil. “Or him.”

“I was behind the wheel when it happened.”

Her van was not his fault. “You were helping me by being behind the wheel. I’m pretty sure if I had been behind the wheel, things would have been worse.”

He kicked at a rock with his boot. “Your van is totaled. We’re already at worse.”

Chaz’s sense of obligation was sweet, but misguided. “A lot worse could have happened. Someone could have gotten hurt. Or Cecil could have—” she searched for a kind way to put it “—not made it. You don’t owe me anything.”

He stepped a bit closer, lowering his voice as if they weren’t alone. “You’d be helping me, actually. I’m in no hurry to be a guest at this thing tomorrow. Dad and Pauline dragged me into it as it is, and after last night it’s the last place I want to be. If I say I have to help you, then maybe I can beg off going to the ceremony and reception.”

Shuttling the cake and dessert table sweets would be easier with another strong set of hands, and most of the valley residents were already busy with their own roles in making weddings happen. And, startling as it was, she was finding Chaz Walker rather nice to have around. When they weren’t arguing, that was. Which, at the moment, they weren’t.

“Okay, then, mister, you got yourself a deal. Be at the shop at ten in the morning. You’ll have to leave Cecil at home.”

He nodded. “Got it. Thanks.”

She wasn’t quite sure why it felt strange to say “You’re welcome.” After a pause, she made herself say, “I appreciate the help. So,” she said as she fingered another of the lug nuts. “Now that we’ve solved part of my problem, how about you? Feel any better?”

The amusement left his face at the reference to his own predicament. He shifted his gaze to the river, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “My problem takes more than hurling lug nuts to solve.”

Maybe she could return the favor and stand by him in his own problem. “I’m sorry about what’s happened with the ranch.”

“You and me both.”

She dared to say what she’d been thinking all night. “It doesn’t seem right. What Hank did.”

His whole body tensed at the words. “I’ll say,” he grumbled. “He wasn’t like this before. I’ve tried to get him to talk about succession issues for years.”

“Why now, then?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” He pierced her with a glare that held none of the ease of their moments before. “And I only come up with one answer. Your aunt.”

She practically dropped the bag of lug nuts. “You think Pauline did this?”

“Do you have another explanation?” The sharpness in his eyes told her she’d just tipped the lid off the boiling pot of his anger. He began pacing the riverbank. “Suddenly Pauline comes into the picture and he goes off and makes this wild decision. Handing Wander Canyon Ranch down to Wyatt? This isn’t him. I don’t know how or why, but he wouldn’t do this before. So it’s got to be Pauline.”

That was a ridiculous idea. “My aunt didn’t have anything to do with what Hank decided.”

“How would you know? Things were fine before her. Maybe not perfect, but good. Headed in the right direction. Now this mess.”

Chaz’s words made Yvonne realize she didn’t actually know. She couldn’t say for a fact that Auntie P. hadn’t been somehow involved in the decision. Except for one thing: “This doesn’t sound like anything my auntie P. would ever think to do.”

“Yeah, well, my stepfather’s been doing things I didn’t think he’d ever do. He’s acting strange. He’s someone I don’t even recognize. Come on... Paris?” The edge in his tone made Cecil sit back down and the hair on the back of Yvonne’s neck stand up.

Pauline deserved Paris. She’d wanted a Paris honeymoon for as long as Yvonne could remember. “Where they honeymoon,” she said through gritted teeth as she tried to keep a lid on her own mood, “is not your call.”

“No,” he fired back, “because it’s all Pauline’s call. She had to put him up to this. She’s got to be what’s changed him. The Hank Walker I know wouldn’t...” Chaz didn’t finish the sentence, just picked up the rock he’d let fall earlier and sent it flying into the water with a fierce growl. Cecil offered no bark of approval this time, just silent, cautious attention.

Give the family ranch to your brother, Yvonne finished in her head for him. It lit fire to the doubt that had kept her awake last night as much as the demise of her car. What kind of man does that to his sons? “Look, I don’t know why Hank made that inheritance choice...”

“Succession,” he corrected without even looking at her. Neal used to correct her all the time, and it pushed her buttons as sharply then as it did now.

Yvonne stalked over to stand in front of him. “Pauline is not behind what your stepfather did. He is. Don’t you go blaming Pauline for Hank’s favoritism. And I have to say I don’t much care for the way your stepdad runs his family. The family my aunt Pauline’s about to become part of. So maybe you’re not the only one worried about what happens next.”