Maria Bay rose. “We’ve all been through the wringer, Jeff. Please just tell us why you’re here.”
“Simmer down and I’ll get to that.”
Maria sat back down and sighed. Angie regarded her mother’s pale cheeks. None of them needed this stress, especially Maria.
“Now, for my tale of two brothers. Once there were two brothers, the good son and the bad son. I think you know who the good son was. The esteemed Wayne Alan Bay. As you know, Wayne and I were orphaned when he was ten and I was eight. We were raised by our grandfather, Norman Bay, on the western slope ranch that your father now owns, Bay Crossing. This”—he held up the document again—“is the last will and testament of Norman Bay.”
“So what?” Harper said.
“You’ll see its importance momentarily,” Jeff said. “Grandpa ruled us with an iron hand, and Wayne, the good son, was held in high favor. Jeff, the bad son, was a rebel. He shirked his duties around the ranch, got in trouble with the law on more than one occasion, but finally found the will to turn his life around when he met the woman of his dreams.”
A choking sob came from her mother’s throat. Angie looked over, and Maria had buried her face in her hands.
“Mama? What is it?” she asked.
Maria shook her head.
“Our mother’s been through hell,” Harper said. “Now what is this all about?”
“Alas,” Jeff continued, “the woman betrayed him in the worst possible way.”
Maria lifted her head. “Please, Jeff. Don’t do this.”
“His sweet angel betrayed him by sleeping with his own brother!”
Angie gasped. She looked at her brother and her sister and Chad. All looked equally shocked.
“Mama?” Catie’s soft voice echoed through the room.
“Why? Why now, Jeff? We thought you were long gone. No one has heard from you in decades. We assumed you’d died in prison.”
“Prison?” Harper’s voice was shaky.
“Yes, prison,” Jeff said. “I was sentenced to life in prison for a crime I did not commit.”
“Then why did you plead guilty?” Maria shook her head. “You mean you didn’t murder that man?”
Jeff shook his head. “Of course I didn’t. I’m not a killer. I pleaded guilty because I had nothing left to live for. The evidence against me was overwhelming, and my own grandfather had already disinherited me. He had already tried and convicted me. When I found out you had slept with Wayne and were carrying his child, I had nothing left at all.”
“Then what happened? How did you get out?”
“Three years ago, a man approach
ed me in prison. Said he could no longer live with the lies. He told the truth, and DNA evidence further proved my innocence.”
“Hold on, hold on,” Harper said. “There’s a whole lot to this story you’re not telling us.”
“Go to the library and look it up,” Jeff said. “It’s a chapter in my life I’d rather forget, and it has little to do with why I’m here.”
“Then let’s get to that, please.” Harper stood. “Why are you here?”
“Sit your ass down, young man. This has little to do with you. We are here because of this document.” He rustled the papers. “Grandpa Norman’s will.”
“Your grandfather’s been dead for over twenty years,” Maria said. “You said yourself he disinherited you. Bay Crossing went to Wayne, and now it belongs to Angelina and Caitlyn. You can look at Wayne’s will.”
“Only the girls? What about your handsome son, there?” He motioned to Harper who was still standing, gripping the back of his chair, his knuckles white.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Maria said, “but I inherited this ranch from a childless relative. I transferred it to Wayne, and he made the decision to bequeath it to Harper and Bay Crossing to the girls. He felt a man should have his own ranch, and this ranch is roughly equal to half of what the other is worth, so it all came out fairly.”