The Bequest

"The odds on you were ridiculous," Heather says. "I really hope this works, because I could really use a new car."

She's betting on me precisely because it's unlikely I'll land the contract. Fabulous. "Listen, I had an idea-"

Her voice, when she cuts me off, is garbled. "Mandy? I can't hear you."

Of course she can't. Thanks for nothing, stupid Birch Creek. "I better go search for a hot cowboy." I doubt she could hear the sarcasm in my voice before I hung up. I planned to wear my rattiest pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, but if I'm supposed to be finding a hot cowboy, I better up my game. I dress in the bandana print sundress I packed on a lark. The only shoes I have that will go with it are strappy sandals. I'll have to really keep an eye out for chicken poop.

I wake Maren and make us both eggs for breakfast, but the yolks are so orange that I worry there's something wrong with them. Luckily, my phone data works well enough to pull up a webpage that explains one great thing about fresh eggs is their bright orange color. "Apparently color indicates that they're rich in vitamins." I almost feel bad about giving half my eggs to Roscoe. Almost, but not quite.

"Huh?" Maren's leaning against one arm, still half asleep.

"How late were you up last night?"

She scowls. "I was reading, if you must know. That dumb book you gave me for Christmas. The super long one."

"You stayed up all night?" I'm not sure I believe my own ears.

"You said the author called you once, with questions about a book she's writing."

"Oh, right. She's a lawyer friend of my sister-in-law who stopped doing legal work and started writing."

"She writes siblings pretty well."

"She should. She has a ton of kids. She writes women's fiction and romance, which I love, but I thought you might like the fantasy books."

"Did you like it?"

Maren shrugs. "Eh."

It must have been good if she stayed up all night reading it.

"The next one's about the villain from the first book, and I can't figure out why. I don't want to read that."

I sigh. "Well, if you liked the first, maybe you need to show her a little trust."

"Maybe."

When I walk outside, almost tripping over the dog, I catch myself staring appraisingly at Kevin. He's way too young, and flirting with him would be terribly awkward, not to mention possibly actionable since I'm in a position to run the ranch. Would that kind of make me his boss?

Maybe I could pay him to pose for me. If we were careful with angles, it might not be obvious how young he is...

He isn't bad looking. His face is a little goofy, like a young Harry Connick, Jr., but some people like that. Not me, but a lot of people. "He's way too young. It would never work."

"What would never work?" Ethan asks from behind me.

I jump.

"Sorry if I startled you." He's sanding down the porch, which looks like it's been freshly sprayed with a hose.

"What are you doing?"

Ethan smiles. "I thought we had to move the water this morning, but apparently we can't go over a certain amount of usage each week, and we're a little too close. Closing off the main intake was quick, so I figured I'd start working on fixing up the trim and porch paint."

"Fixing it up?"

"I'm sanding so I can repaint," he says. "Mom said the house looks nice, and that it looks like the paint on it has been done recently, but the trim kind of just disappears." "You're only here for the summer, right?" I don't understand why he'd manufacture work for himself.

"Dad used to always do stuff like this." Ethan stops. "You know, Mom would make a comment, and he'd work hard to do little things to surprise her. I figured since he's not here, I could sand the trim and get it prepped and one day when she's out all day, I can paint it, as a surprise."

I can't breathe. I'm about to break down and sob.

In the fifteen years I was married to Paul, he never once surprised me with anything. I bought my own birthday and Christmas presents-Valentine's Day too. I'm not sure it ever occurred to him that it might mean more if he picked something. When I asked for something, he'd say, "Sure. Merry Christmas." Even if it was April.

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After spending one day with them, I'm already drowning in reminders that I married the wrong brother. And now her son is trying to do the same thing-surprises that his dad's not here to provide. "That's nice of you."

"You think she'll like it?" Ethan's face brightens. "Maybe you can help pick which color of navy paint I should use. I'm not great at stuff like that."

"Oh, I don't know—"

"Mom said you're leaving in a few days, and I'm not sure if they have paint in town. But Green River isn't too far. Maybe one day we could go out there? Or if you don't have time, can I borrow your van? I can give you money for gas." How can I tell him no? "I'm sure we can come up with something. But as it turns out, we're going to stay a little longer."

"Really?" His brow furrows. "When are you leaving?"

"We'll be here until at least the Fourth of July."

"We will?" Emery was coming toward the house from the barn at just the right time, of course. She starts whooping.

"What's going on?" Maren sticks her head out the window. "Some of us are trying to go back to sleep."

Ethan snorts. "Only one of us."

"We're staying a whole month!" Emery says.

Maren's hands clench the windowsill. "You're a liar."

"Now, Maren," I say. "Don't say that kind of thing to Emery. She's repeating what she just heard me say. We've decided to stay a little longer."

"Mom!" Her mouth opens and she's huffing louder than I've ever heard before. "You promised!"

Oh good grief. "Look-"

"Just fly me home. I'll stay with Erin."

"I'm not going to fly you home," I say. "And we'll still make it back in time for the school cheer camp."

"What about the Prism Elite one?"

Probably not that one. "That one's optional," I say. "It's not even put on by the school."

"But my whole team is going, and they'll get better than me!" She's wailing now, so loudly that I'm sure the neighbors can hear. "Why are you doing this?"

A large white SUV rolls up, which must be the vet. Unfortunately, the impending presence of outsiders doesn't even make a dent in Maren's emotional upheaval. Her head disappears, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

But then her entire body, still clad in plaid pajama pants and one of Paul's old shirts, shoots out onto the front porch. "Mom. You can't really mean to keep us here. We aren't prisoners. I want to go home." "Actually, we're all minors," Ethan says. "Since she's your mom, that's exactly what she can do."

"Shut up, Ethan. You're the worst part of this nightmare."

"Right back at you." He winks, which only infuriates her more.

"Don't even bother arguing with her," Emery says. "It won't help. Maren hates everything but her phone and her friends."

Maren freezes. "That's not true."

"If it wasn't true, you'd have come outside already," Emery says. "There are baby goats, and kittens, and chickens, and horses, and cows. Lots of cows."

"Believe me," Maren says. "I can smell them all, even from inside."

Emery frowns. "Maybe Mom should send you back home. You'll only ruin things for everyone else." She turns on her heel and runs back to the barn, Gabe, Izzy, and Whitney on her heels.

For the first time in a long time, I actually feel sorry for Maren. It's her own fault, but she's totally alone. I know exactly how that feels. Even if you have no one else to blame, it's still miserable.