The Cowboy Next Door
Autore
Cheryl Harper
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21
CHAPTER ONE
SARAH HEARST WAS certain of a few things when she slipped into a cushy leather seat in the boardroom of Winthrop, Marshall, and Fine, attorneys at law.
First, her great-aunt Sadie had staged her final scene perfectly. Hiring the premiere law firm in Los Angeles came with perks, including a richly paneled conference room, efficient assistants who distributed coffee and water unobtrusively and the hush of hallowed old money that had never once managed to subdue the Hearsts.
Second, Sadie would have appreciated the size and energy of the crowd. The whole family had answered the summons to hear the reading of her will and the atmosphere was more low-key family reunion than true mourning. She had always called the people in the room her “favorite do-gooders, no-gooders and charming rapscallions” and loved every one of her four nephews—Sarah’s dad included—and seventeen great-nieces and great-nephews even when they were “messier than a bag of nails.”
The boardroom’s view of the city was unimpeded on the beautiful late summer day, but inside, they might as well have been gathered around the island of Sadie’s comfortable kitchen. Bluegrass music provided a backdrop for the various conversations. Instead of a publicity shot of a perfectly turned-out Sadie, TV chef and personality, a candid shot of her in her element, with flour dotting her red-and-white-gingham-check apron and a big grin on her face, filled the screen at the head of the table.
Sarah also knew without a doubt that some of the Hearsts would be surprised at Sadie’s decisions. Her great-aunt had been unpredictable and relished every minute of watching people scurry to catch up with her. As a girl, Sarah had admired Sadie’s over-the-top style; she’d come to understand the strategy behind Sadie’s zigging when others expected her to zag after she’d started working her way up in the family business, the Cookie Queen Corporation.
“If they don’t hurry up and get this started, the executor may need his own executor. None of us are getting any younger,” her baby sister, Brooke, muttered. She smoothed her perfectly knotted blond updo and twitched a heel. “I’ve got to make my flight this afternoon. Paul’s campaign manager is meeting us for dinner. This came at the worst time.” Brooke and her husband were making plans to move into the mayor’s mansion someday. Winning this election to the New York City Council was the critical first step.
“Too busy in New York to properly pay respects to Aunt Sadie,” Sarah’s middle sister, Jordan, said softly. She jostled Sarah as she crossed her arms with a huff.
Brooke and Jordan had been together for a full ride from the airport without an argument, so the cease-fire was clearly winding down.
Sarah didn’t roll her eyes. She counted that a victory.
The lawyer executing Sadie’s will, Howard Marshall, was both impressive and elderly, and the two qualities together meant he kept no schedule other than his own. Sadie had always done things as she liked and on her own time. This gathering would be no different. Fussing wouldn’t change a thing, and Jordan’s fidgeting suggested she agreed more with her younger sister than she’d ever want anyone to know.
As the peacemaker of the group, Sarah bit back the urge to shush her sisters, but if Brooke reminded her one more time how important it was that she get back to New York that evening, Sarah was going to...
“Thank you for joining us,” Howard Marshall said as he opened the folder in front of him. “I’ll be forwarding a copy of the letters Sadie left for each of you after this reading. Today we’re here to cover the bequests Sarah Abigail Hearst outlined in her will.” He cleared his throat, licked his finger and turned the page slowly. Hearing the lawyer call her great-aunt Sarah illuminated how clearly the world had changed. If Sadie were here, she’d smack him wherever she could reach, head or arm or chest, and remind him she only answered to Sadie. Being named after Sadie had always made Sarah proud. Today she was proud and heartbroken all over again that Sadie was really gone.
“Sadie did her own writing, so you will excuse the...” Howard sniffed. “Ahem, casual tone and hear these words in her voice, if you please.”
Jordan bumped her shoulder again. “You okay?” she whispered.
Sarah nodded and wrapped her hand around Jordan’s on one side and Brooke’s on the other while they listened to Howard Marshall outline the bequests connected with the Cookie Queen Corporation, including the small corporate headquarters near Los Angeles, and the fortune Sadie had amassed over a lifetime as top baker, television chef and name brand for kitchen appliances and a line of Western wear.
A Los Angeles home and New York apartment and other large assets would be sold and the proceeds divided equally between Sadie’s list of heirs after the final sale. Simple enough. There were keepsakes left to each member of the family, and Sadie hadn’t made any rules on keeping, selling or trading. As always, her gifts were true gifts, no strings attached.
As the lawyer’s reading slowed, Sarah felt the weight of her sisters’ stares. Their names had been conspicuously absent from the list of keepsakes and special notes.
“The final items are rather...delicate. Thus, Sadie wanted to handle telling you herself.” Howard Marshall lifted his chin in a sharp motion to give his assistant a signal. Behind him, Sadie’s photo became a video.
“Well, now, if this isn’t the sorriest bunch of rascals I ever saw gathered in one place. Not a solitary tear to be seen.” Sadie tsked and shook her head. Sarah tried to guess when it had been recorded. Her aunt had never gone gray, thanks to the best salons money could reserve. Until the end, she’d preferred a red lip and dark mascara. She might have recorded this video last month or last century, honestly.
Sadie waggled her finger. “I better not see any tears when I gaze down from my comfy cloud at you all. I’m celebratin’ today, and you better be, too. I’m guessing Howie’s almost finished reading my will. Let’s tie up business, shall we? Wilson, raise your hand.”
Wilson Douglas, Sadie’s chief financial officer, followed Sadie’s order.
“Aw, put your hand down, Wil. Everyone at this table knows who you are.” Sadie chuckled. “First. My four darling nephews will form a new board of directors, with Wilson Douglas serving as the fifth member. During my last contract negotiation with Wil, I included a clause about what should happen if I died before the end of said contract.” She held her hands out as if to say, “and here’s where we ended up.”
“Wilson will step up to lead The Cookie Queen Corporation. His position is guaranteed for one year. At the end of that year, either Wil or the board of directors may make a change there, but he will continue to serve on the board for a period of at least five years. Nobody knows the business better than Wil. I trust him with my baby.”
Sarah studied Wilson Douglas’s face. He was not shocked. He and his boss must have discussed her plans for the board of directors in advance. His firm jaw indicated he was prepared to honor Sadie’s wishes even if her family bucked the decision.
Sadie cupped a hand over her eyes. “Michael, you better be at this table.”
Sarah watched her oldest cousin straighten in his seat. “I’m here.” A flush covered his cheeks when he realized he was responding to a video. Michael was the first of all the great-nephews and as such, took his position as eldest seriously. Michael took everything seriously; he marched through the Cookie Queen headquarters as if he were the official hall monitor. His “management by walking around” had earned him his own nickname; Sadie compared him to a stray calf.
“Okay, my little dogie,” Sadie said, “you’ve been gunning for the top spot for years. Here’s your chance. You also have one year, serving under Wil, to learn the ins and outs of the job. At the end of your trial period, Wil decides whether to recommend you permanently as CEO or to toss you out on your ear.” She waggled a finger a second time. “I believe you can do this, Mikey, but try not to incite a riot in my employees. I love them more than a bear loves honey.”
Michael relaxed against his chair, and Sarah immediately understood that her own position at the company had changed and not in a good way. He was going to be her boss. Her cousin had never understood Sarah’s role as the single person in the customer relations area. It wasn’t about answering phones or resolving complaints; Sarah and Sadie had brainstormed ways to keep her connected to her fans. Sarah’s job had been about building strong relationships through appearances, social media posts, special fan messages and big and small ways to draw people to Sadie Hearst for recipes, advice and entertainment.
When Sadie continued on without addressing her position within the business, Sarah started to worry.
“Everybody study that wall. Those are my mountains, remember?” On the video, Sadie pointed to the right. There in the boardroom, a large painting filled the wall exactly where Sadie had ordered it to be put, no doubt, showing soaring mountains covered in tall trees and with white-capped peaks.
Sarah noticed everyone in the room followed her great-aunt’s directions and stared hard at the painting. They’d all learned not to ignore her wishes. Sarah didn’t have to. She had the painting memorized. It had hung behind her great-aunt’s desk in her messy office until today.
“Home. Where I grew up. Some of you might even remember before I was the Cookie Queen, when I was only a local talent on public broadcasting, that I lived in a place called Prospect. My daddy’s fishing lodge, grandly titled the Majestic Prospect Lodge, you recall? We used to get together during the summer, fish and swim and generally enjoy every blessing Mother Nature has tucked away in the prettiest locale in creation. Been a long time since I’ve been there, but the memories are sweet.” Sadie cleared her throat. “Sarah, Jordan and Brooke...well, you might have hoped for something less troublesome, but I know you’ll figure out what to do. After fifteen years, the Majestic may be nothing but weathered wood and cobwebs, but it’s all yours. Renovate it and run it, sell it as quick as you can or let the mountains claim it again after the buildings turn to dust. You girls decide. But do it together and remember this legacy we’ve built.
“We all had such good times there. When I think of your mama, I picture her in the old hammock by the lake, remember? Place never was the same after she was gone, was it? That lovely girl could bake like a dream, too. I despair that not a sorry one of you children caught the bug, but those days sure were special. I could never let the lodge go myself, but it’s a puzzle that needs a solution. You girls were always my favorite troublemakers, and that is saying quite a lot with this crowd. I couldn’t trust the Majestic to anyone else.”
Sadie cupped a hand over her ear. “What’s that? Can’t be complaints, not from this lot. A bunch of questions? Well, my time is up. I love you all. Don’t forget to miss me but not too much.”
The screen went dark.
Howard Marshall stacked his papers efficiently and waited. “May I answer any questions?”
Stunned silence filled the room. Not even Sarah could recover quickly enough to get her mouth in gear.
Eventually, Jordan asked, “Is there more information about the fishing lodge? A budget or...”
Sarah understood why Jordan trailed off. The questions were too big to chew unless they bit off small pieces at first.
The lawyer slid a second folder down the table. Heads turned as it slipped past to land in front of Sarah. “Instructions are here. There are funds to cover this year’s taxes and any minor incidentals, but the rest of the funds will come after the sale of all other assets are final and distributed among the heirs. Nothing additional has been set aside for upkeep. The property manager in town has only secured the physical building, so the repairs may be extensive and all utilities will need to be restored before improvements begin.” His lips were a tight line, as if he expected this to present a problem.
He could be right. Without upkeep, what state would the lodge be in after all this time?
The longer Sarah and her sisters took to decide about this remote piece of land they hadn’t seen in years, the greater the threat of losing the lodge or their own savings to hold it.
“When should we expect to see the rest?” Brooke asked. “The funds...”
“The sales won’t be rushed. Sadie had particular wishes.” Howard Marshall sniffed. “My office will see to the disposition of any assets. Make sure your current address is on file with my assistant. We’ll be in further contact when funds are ready to be disbursed.” Howard Marshall stood. He didn’t wave them toward the door, but his expression suggested he was ready for them to clear the boardroom. “If the new members of the board could remain, I have paperwork for you to sign.”
Sarah and her sisters moved out into the hallway and followed the silent pack of Hearsts to the elevator. They waited for the next car to go down.
“Well, Sarah, not sure how you managed to get the family land,” Michael said, sidling up next to her. “You and Sadie spent a lot of time together at the end, I guess.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and jingled his change.
The urge to return a snarky comment about worming his way into the top position burned, but Sarah shoved it down.
“Congratulations, Michael,” Sarah said, holding on to her position as the peacemaker with a tight grip. “I know you’ll do a great job as CFO.” Did she, though? Maybe not. She was certain he expected her to say so and there would be trouble if she didn’t. Since Sadie hadn’t done anything to protect Sarah’s job, making nice with the new boss seemed prudent.
“Sarah worked with Sadie, the same as you did,” Jordan snapped, ready to step in front and go to war as usual.
“Not exactly like I did.” Michael ran his hand down his tie. “I worked all the way up to the head of marketing. Sadie had to create the customer relations director role, which...” Michael tapped Sarah’s shoulder. “That’s marketing, isn’t it?”
It was more than that but explaining it to him again would be a waste of time.
Jordan’s exasperated gust of air was enough of an answer that Sarah let the whole thing go.
“Good thing your position isn’t essential day to day,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of time to sort out the lodge. Not sure there’s much of a decision, though. You three have the money to reopen it? Lack of experience wouldn’t stop you from trying.”
“What’s it to you, cousin?” Jordan drawled.
“Nothing, I guess.” Michael jingled his coins again. “I look forward to your decision on what to do with the lodge and Sadie’s legacy in Prospect. Sarah, when you’re back at your desk, let me know. I’m going to make a presentation to the new board, a realignment of staffing and duties that makes good sense now, and I’d like to include your position in my plans.”
He walked away before she could demand any details.
“Does that mean you’ll still have your job or...” Brooke asked, her forehead wrinkled in concern. It was a valid question. His tone made Sarah think she wouldn’t survive any personnel changes.
“Let’s stop at Lark’s on the way to the airport,” Brooke muttered. “We need to talk.”
Since her sister was right and she’d finally stopped harping about not missing her flight back to New York, Sarah was happy to agree. They were seated around a cramped table with the pizza they’d ordered ahead of time before anyone spoke.
“How quickly do you think we can sell?” Brooke asked before she took a bite.
The fact that Jordan paused and chose not to fire back convinced Sarah that both of her sisters were on the same page. “We won’t know until we see what shape it’s in,” she said. “Since my job is apparently...open-ended now, I’ll head up to Prospect this weekend.” She wiped her fingers on her napkin. “We could make it a girls’ trip, go together and make the decision as one.”
They hadn’t successfully traveled together ever, but certainly not after the summer her mother had died. Sarah had spent every family trip in the middle of the backseat, the wall preventing her sisters from brawling and her father from turning the car around.
“It could be fun,” she added.
Both of her sisters sucked in air, ready to explain how wrong she was, when her father pulled out the fourth seat at the table. He wrapped his arms around her before hugging Jordan and Brooke. “The Everything Pizza. My favorite.” He immediately pulled the mushrooms off a slice and took a bite. “What’s the plan?”
Sarah rubbed her temple. “We got here fifteen minutes before you, Dad. We’re good, but we aren’t that good.”
He nodded and waved his hand to tell her to go on.
“I’m heading to Prospect. Brooke has to get home. Jordan...” Sarah raised her eyebrows.
“I’ve got a project to wrap up, but I could make it...next week? Do you want to wait that long?” she asked. “My guess is that the internet service in Prospect may not be up to running high-speed cybersecurity tests and tech firms want everything finished yesterday. My boss will complain if I extend this unexpected break.” Jordan’s guilty expression was so familiar that Sarah immediately winced. Her middle sister had always worried so much about doing enough that she overcompensated. Not joining Sarah weighed her down.
“No rush, I guess. Once the taxes are paid, you should have a year or so.” Her father frowned. “But I’m not sure how many buyers there are for a run-down fishing lodge. It could take a while to get a decent price.” Her father made a good point. Since he and his art supply store scraped by, he wasn’t known for giving financial advice.
“But the proceeds from the sale of Sadie’s assets will help if we have to hold it longer,” Sarah said.
“Unless we need those for...life.” Brooke closed her eyes before forcing a smile on her face. “Sarah, when you go, be sure to take some pictures. Then we can all see the place and decide on how to go about listing it for sale.”
Jordan wanted to argue; the urge was written on her face, but it was a valid suggestion.
“What if we don’t want to sell?” Jordan asked. “I mean, what if we can’t agree?”
“Why would we want to keep a fishing lodge in a town in the mountains hours away from anywhere?” Brooke asked slowly and loudly. Before Jordan could reply, Brooke’s cell phone rang. Brooke snatched it off the table and scowled down at the number on the display. “I have to take this.” She was shaking her head as she stood and marched toward the door.
They watched Brooke pace in front of the window of Lark Street Pizza, the hole-in-the-wall pizza place that had kept their whole family alive after Beth Hearst had died and their father had moved them to this modest, albeit neighborly neighborhood. Leaving Denver had been hard, but Lark’s had always hit the spot.
“That was Paul’s number, I think.” Jordan chewed her bottom lip. “It was definitely New York.”
Sarah knew Jordan was worried about Brooke. They all were. Talking to her on the phone only kept her up to date with the big events in her youngest sister’s life. Seeing the circles under her eyes and the way the fancy suit hung on her thinner frame was enough evidence to support their concern.
If it was Brooke’s husband on the other end of the call, were they having trouble? What should she do about it?
“I’m going to run to the restroom so we can hit the road,” Jordan mumbled before walking away.
Sarah met her father’s stare.
“Good thing Sadie lumped you three together, isn’t it? No better way for her to leave chaos in her wake, and she loved chaos.” He squeezed Sarah’s hand. “You’ll work it all out, Sarah. They’ll follow you.”
Sarah sipped her water and wondered if it was worth mentioning to her father that Brooke was losing too much weight and Jordan was shorter tempered than usual. His sunny disposition had always made him better at celebration than problem-solving. That was her job.
“Ever notice how often they disappear when the bill hits the table?” he asked with a grin. He plopped his credit card down and handed it and the bill back to the waiter. “Like they have honed a sixth sense about it somehow.”
The tension headache forming in her temples was going to be a problem.
“Listen, don’t worry about your job. We’ve got a board meeting planned for two weeks from Friday. We’ll all sit down and discuss any major changes before they’re set in stone.” Her father squeezed her shoulder. “Try to enjoy this trip back to Prospect. Sadie was always one with ulterior motives. It wouldn’t surprise me if she planned this for you to take a break and have the chance to revisit old haunts in Colorado.”
While also saddling her with her sisters’ futures, too. Maybe. Maybe not.
“Dad, why do you think Sadie didn’t make a place for me? At the company. I work hard there.” That worried Sarah more than this lodge problem. When she got to Prospect, the problem about what to do with their inheritance would be answered, no doubt.
But what about her career and her life and all the rest?
If she wasn’t working for her aunt, then...
He sighed. “Hard to say. I wish she’d been the kind of person who made her plans clear, but there is one thing I am certain of.” He bent his head to meet her stare. “My daughters are equal to whatever Sadie dreamed up for them. She knew that, too.”
Sarah nodded to reassure him. He was right, of course. Finding another job wouldn’t be difficult.
Finding anyone else like Sadie, though, would be impossible.
Stretching her neck slowly from side to side as she followed her father and sisters out of Lark’s didn’t do a lot to ease the headache. For now, all Sarah could do was take the next step: find her way back to Prospect.
