Shameless(21)

Besides, I need it for the farmers’ fair.

Oh, dear Lord. The farmers’ fair.

Mel and Cal were planning to host this big event next month. Since the winter is slow around here, everyone thought it’d be fun to do something to promote all of the nearby farms. The neighbors are bringing some of their goods to sell, and Mel wanted to set up a little petting zoo for the kids.

I rub the throb in my temple. Like Brady needs one more thing to deal with.

Worst-case scenario, he can cancel. Or maybe one of the other farms can host.

Clicking over to my other email account, I check to see if I have any more responses from the newspapers about the event.

I can still hear Mel’s voice, teasing me that I’d spend hours on her press releases when I wouldn’t take the time to apply to the opening on Congressman Mitchell’s staff. But I’m not sure I want to return to the lion’s den.

Is it wrong that I love working on the farm? I enjoy everything, from harvesting the crops and distilling the essential oil to perfecting Mel’s products and finding the best way to sell them. But if I tell my parents I love doing the very thing they loathe—farming—would they understand? They’ve always wanted something different for me, a better life, because farming represents a lifestyle that just beat them down.

I know they want me to give Austin another shot, but I don’t think I can deal with seeing my ex around every corner, which is bound to happen because those political circles aren’t that big.

Glancing at my worn jeans and flannel shirt, I can’t imagine what Eric would say if he saw me “slumming it” again.

When I hightailed it out of Austin, I left everything behind that came from him—my clothes, my phone, my job. He can keep it all. Because when the going got tough, he bailed.

That’s not what I need. Who wants a man who doesn’t fight for what he wants? For the woman he supposedly loves? No, Eric got cold feet at the worst possible time. When I was alone and scared. Who can respect a man like that? Look at Brady. He’s obviously knee deep in family responsibilities and you don’t see him running for the hills.

I barely know the man but already I respect him so much. He might be kind of grumpy sometimes, but who wouldn’t be with this much stress? He’s busting his butt to take care of his parents and his niece.

You need to tell him.

My stomach nosedives. God, I need to get this over with.

After the funerals. Maybe on Sunday once we’ve gotten through the worst of it.

But I vow to tell him soon. Although I hate keeping secrets, I think if I told him now, it would be more to ease my guilty conscience than anything. I can handle the nightmares if it means he has less to deal with this week. I just hope he understands.





14





Brady





“You’re kidding me.” This isn’t right.

Davis DeGregory, my brother’s attorney, clears his throat. “I can assure you this is correct. You’re the beneficiary of the farm, all businesses relating to the farm, and all of the family’s assets, assuming you take custody of Isabella.”

I press my palm into one eye and then the other before I mumble into the phone, “So the will doesn’t list my parents or maybe one of Melissa’s relatives? I just don’t see why they’d consider me.” Cal and I weren’t talking. He knew I was pissed. “Is it possible the forms are outdated?”

“No, we spoke last month. Your brother found out Melissa was pregnant again, and he wanted to make sure she’d be cared for in the event something happened to him, so he executed a will. Had he been the only one who passed, his wife would have been the beneficiary. But in the event something happened to both of them, everything defaults to you. Both signed the documents.”

My head is reeling. “He didn’t think our parents would be a better choice?”

“He said your father had health issues.”

“And Melissa didn’t have any relatives?”

The sound of papers shuffling in the background comes through the line. “Not that I’m aware of. Except…”

“Except what?”

“They mentioned a friend. Someone who lives on the farm. I think they considered her as a potential legal guardian should you decline custody.” He pauses. “Here it is. Katherine Duran. She’s the woman who cared for Isabella in your absence, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You’re lucky she was there to care for the child. Dealing with Social Services is a nightmare, and that's where Isabella would've gone without a family friend to intervene. In any event, Cal and Melissa decided you were more appropriate since you’re related, but they thought Katherine was a strong candidate to get custody of their daughter, which is why I didn’t object to her caring for Isabella until you arrived. However, if you decide to decline conservatorship, the state then looks toward a child’s grandparents as the next suitable option.”

Why the f*ck would I decline custody? And they considered giving Izzy to Katherine over our parents?

“You’re saying the state of Texas is just going to hand me a child?”

“You’re a blood relative, and you’re listed on the will. So, basically, yes.”

“And Child Protective Services doesn’t need to make sure I’m not a bank robber or anything?”