Driving a tractor, even with the radio blaring loudly, left a lot of time for thinking, and that’s what Kate had been doing all morning. The fact that she’d been selfish with the knowledge in Iris’s letters and will kept circling back to haunt her even when other things took top priority.
She liked this mindless work of plowing a field. She liked being outside in the sunshine and wearing sandals or going barefoot. But what she liked most of all was the freedom in her soul when she smelled the fresh-plowed dirt or looked at a barn full of hay that she’d helped harvest.
Kenny Chesney was belting out “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” when she made the final loop around the field.
“Oh, yes, I do.” She grinned. “And my mother would have me committed for saying that.”
She picked up her phone from the console beside her and poked in the speed-dial number for the lawyer as she drove the tractor back to the barn. They’d located Darcy’s will only to learn she’d left all her earthly possessions to her mother’s church—Hattie’s church. Now it was a matter of getting things legalized and seeing what the church wanted to do with the cabin and the money they’d found in the bank box.
She turned off the engine and slung open the door. It was time—past time, really—to let everyone know about the will and the letters.
Today!
That would take her one step closer to getting all this closed and out of her mind. Waylon reached up, put his arms on her waist, and brought her to the ground like she weighed no more than a bed pillow. “Ready to get some lunch?”
“The way I’ve been eating, I’ll have to live at the gym when I get home.” Her heart fluttered around like a butterfly in her chest. Yes, his touch had that effect on her, but she had to tell him about the will and the letters, and it had to be today, and that was as much to do with the jitters as his hands on her waist. The past few days she’d started to feel guilty for not telling him or the other two. Right now she just wanted it out in the open, even if it caused a fight with Waylon or with Amanda and Jamie.
He laced his fingers with hers, and they started toward the house. “Darlin’, you will always be beautiful in my eyes.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” She took a deep breath and said, “I’ve been holding back on you. I have some information that could help.”
He put a finger on her lips. “If you held something back, then I believe you had a reason. What is it and why are you going to tell me now?”
“I found letters that Iris wrote to her daughter, Darcy. There is a will—she left everything to Darcy, and in Darcy’s will, she left everything to her mother’s church,” Kate said. “That means it could be tied up for a while if either Jamie or Amanda contest it, I guess.”
“Let’s go in and have some chili. I put a pot on this morning before we got started, and it should be about simmered down real good. You can tell me everything over lunch,” he said. “But I don’t know what a will has to do with his murder or a bunch of old letters, either one. Did you read them?”
“Of course. The will was sealed, so I didn’t open it, but the rest of them were in unsealed envelopes. Can I be arrested for that?” She opened the cabinet doors and took out two bowls while he stirred the chili and then put silverware on the table.
“I wouldn’t think so.” He grinned. “They didn’t go through the US mail. Besides, if Iris wrote them, she left them for someone to find, and since Darcy is dead . . .” He dipped up the chili.
She started talking, too fast, but she had to get the load off her chest. “The first letter told Darcy about Iris’s last will, so I knew what was in it. She left everything to her daughter and nothing to Conrad. She had hired a private investigator to look into him after they were married, but she was so ashamed of herself. Besides, he was threatening her in some way if she didn’t give him control of her money and assets. She was not his first wife, Waylon. He was married twice under a different name—Swanson. One of those women died in a suspicious car wreck. The other one divorced him, and I’d bet dollars to cow chips that he got a lot of money at that time,” Kate said.
“You sure do remember details well.”
“You can see the letters if you want to cross-check my information,” she said.
“That would be good, but go on.” He set the bowls on the table.
“Okay, then,” she went on. “His birth certificate name is Cain Smith and he was born in New Orleans, Louisiana. Mother is Linda Smith. Father unknown. He was raised in foster homes because his mother was or maybe still is an alcoholic. The detective could not find the mother.”
“This is just the lead I needed.” He grinned. “I can trace back now and maybe figure out what happened.”
“Slow down,” she said. “Where does that leave us?”
“Us?” He looked up with questions in his eyes.
For God’s sake, did he think that, just because they’d exchanged a few kisses and she was finally telling him what she’d known for days, they were in anything other than a working relationship? Or maybe a friendly one if she stretched out the matter?
“Us as in me and Jamie and Amanda? Were we really married to him? Is my marriage even legal? What happens to the cabin now or his van and his bank account? I have no idea what he had, but it’s sure not mine.”
She’d unloaded the burden, and now she wanted answers—right now!
“I’d say you’ll have to get in touch with your lawyers on that one, but I suppose that all his belongings will probably be divided among his children—depending on the story with Darcy. Do you know what’s involved in his assets?”
Kate shook her head. “I’m not sure. His accountant took care of his business, both personal and professional. I despise his accountant. She’s probably as crooked as Conrad was. You might start there. When I called him about the utilities on the cabin, he said that since Conrad wasn’t there to authorize the payments, no more would be made. They were probably in cahoots in all kinds of scams.”
“And that is another good lead. I’m going to Dallas after we get done eating. Want to go with me?” he asked as he picked up his phone. “Give me a minute here to call Johnny.”
The back door opened before he finished hitting a speed-dial number. “Hey, Waylon,” a man called out.
“Come on in, Johnny. I was about to call you.”
A tall, well-built guy with close-cut hair and a square jaw came into the kitchen. “Is that chili?”
“Help yourself. Meet Kate, our new hired hand. This is Johnny, my right-hand man.” Waylon made introductions and then turned back to Johnny. “I’m going to Dallas this afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Johnny filled a bowl with chili and carried it to the table. “It’s nice to meet you, Kate. You’d be one of those women that Conrad married, right?”
“Yes, I am, and it’s nice to meet you, Johnny,” she said.