Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(3)

I try not to snort at how ridiculous she sounds. Worse, her latest Botox rounds still don’t allow her to make proper facial expressions. But she doesn’t need to.

It’s in her tone. She’s always been petty and jealous over my relationship with Gramps.

Never when it benefited her, of course, but when it didn’t. Whenever she had something to lose by Gramps flying me out to Dallas, or in her words, 'sticking his wretched beak where it doesn’t belong.'

It wasn’t pretty. Like now.

“She’s over twenty-one,” Sheridan says. “So legally, under federal and North Dakota law, she inherits it per Mr. Reed’s wishes. All of it.” He almost cracks a smile when he looks at me. “Including Mr. Edison.”

Edison! My heart skips a beat. “Oh my...he’s still alive?”

“Alive and more trouble than ever,” Sheridan tells me with a sly grin.

Edison might be the smartest horse on earth. He has to be over thirty, which is ancient for a horse.

I smile, seeing him like it was just yesterday. Coal-black with a white streak on his forehead, the horse is practically Houdini – a born escape artist.

Gramps hadn’t mentioned Edison in any of our last phone conversations. I’d been afraid to ask, didn’t want to know if he’d died.

He loved that horse, the same as me. How else would a grown woman ever feel about her favorite playmate growing up?

“Ridiculous! What’s she going to do with a ranch and an oil company out here in the middle of nowhere?” Mother snaps.

Sheridan lifts a grey brow. “Whatever she pleases, Mrs. Reed.”

“Well, she can’t. The girl has commitments in California.” Mother’s dagger eyes drift in my direction, her lips pursed sourly, expecting me to fly to her rescue. Say something, damn it, I can almost hear her beaming.

“Actually...no, I don’t. I had obligations until last week, when I submitted the papers to dissolve my latest company.” I flinch, knowing I shouldn’t have spoken.

This is already bad enough. But Gramps would want me to have a little fun, wouldn’t he?

Dad just shakes his head and averts his eyes. He’s drained, in disbelief, thoroughly done with all of this.

“Ms. Reed, you should know there are a few stipulations, which you and I will address privately.” Sheridan then casts his stoic and somewhat tired gaze back at my parents. “That, too, is in the will.”

“I’ll stipulate you,” Mom whispers under her breath, sniffing loudly. “And after all we’ve done for her, too.”

Then she snatches her blue and white dimpled Gucci purse off the floor. It’s a perfect match for her outfit, as always. “Enough! I’ve never been so insulted in my life.” Standing, she snaps, “Come on, Gary.”

That’s Dad’s signal to follow, and he will.

The look he gives me as he stands up is almost sympathetic. For the briefest second, I see a resemblance to Gramps, mainly in the eyes. Lush green, just like mine.

He turns to the lawyer. “I’m assuming you want us to wait outside?”

Sheridan stands up, a movement that seems to take forever since he’s nearly as tall as a telephone pole and almost as skinny.

“That’s up to you,” the lawyer says. “You’re perfectly welcome to return to your hotel, or visit the cemetery.”

For a second, they freeze.

He knows they didn’t go to the grave this afternoon to watch that little bean-pot-looking urn get placed in the ground. Only I did. The only soul on earth besides the attendant who watched him being interred.

“Oh, please! The hotel...that hovel?” Mom says, already marching toward the door. “Hell is a national hotel chain. Do you have any idea what the bleach in those sheets does to my skin?”

I try not to roll my eyes. If only we could blame even half her antics on the bedding.

“We’ll be in the lobby, Anna,” Dad tells me, catching up with her just in time to yank open the door.

I nod, swallowing the lump growing in my throat because I truly wish I didn’t have to go through this alone.

“Can I get you anything?” Sheridan asks once the door clicks shut, leaving just the two of us in his office. “Coffee? Soda? A glass of water?”

I shake my head, thankful it still moves. I feel stiff, frozen, and chock-full of dread. I’ve had three failed business adventures, mostly rentals I thought I could manage and turn a profit on.

How could I ever take on the complicated monstrosity Gramps turned into his empire? How could I ever do it justice?

A flipping oil company? I don’t even know the price at the pump today!

Mom might be right. I can’t.

And I’m kinda sorta panicking.

Mr. Sheridan slowly sinks back into his chair, eyeing me slowly. “Forgive me, Ms. Reed. I recently had back surgery, so I’m not moving very fast yet.”

I nod again. Then, because I should at least acknowledge he’d spoken, I say, “I hope you feel better soon. Gramps went through something like that maybe ten years back...he was practically doing cartwheels a year later.” God. I’m really out of my element here.

“Ah, I hope to be half that lucky. And you won’t be alone in this, let me assure you. Your grandfather was a careful man and a good planner. He left generous provisions for my services as long as you need them. Additionally, you’ll have the full support of his most trusted companion, who’s also listed in the will. Mr. Larkin will provide you with everything you could ever need.”