By now you know of my intention to leave my place to you. I understand that if you marry Butch Dixon, it will be partially his, too.
I want you to know how much working for you these past few years has meant to me. When you’re old, it’s easy to get thrown on the scrap heap and forgotten. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Jenny and watching her grow. She’s a sweet kid in a way my own daughter never was.
I’ve seen how you are with High Lonesome Ranch. I know how much it means to you, and how hard you’ve had to work to keep it. If I were to pass my place along to Reba, she would take the first offer to sell it and wouldn’t care what became of it later. She may say this isn’t fair and she may try to make you feel sorry for her, but don’t fall for it. She treated her mother and me like scum. If she gets anything at all, it’s more than she deserves.
I wish you and yours the best, Joanna. You and Andy and Jenny have always been good neighbors.
Sincerely,
Clayton Rhodes
Joanna’s eyes had blurred with tears as she finished reading the text of the letter. After that, Burton Kimball had read aloud the applicable passages in Clayton Rhodes’ will. Since being given the letter, Joanna had read it through only twice—once in Burton Kimball’s office and presence, and again, aloud, when she returned to the Outback, where Butch and Jenny were waiting. Even so, sitting there in the church pew, Joanna could have recited the entire letter from memory. The words were etched on her heart.
“He can’t mean this” was the first thing Joanna had said to Burton.
“He meant it all right,” the attorney had returned calmly.
“But what about Reba? She’s his daughter, after all.”
“She’s also a complete bitch, if you’ll pardon the expression,” Burton said. “The will was properly drawn and witnessed a year and a half ago. And, as I told you on the phone, it isn’t as though she’ll be left with nothing. After taxes, she’ll still have a fair chunk of cash which, as far as I can tell, is all she’s interested in anyway.”
“A year and a half,” Joanna echoed. “But the letter is dated . . .”
“There was another letter,” Burton Kimball said kindly. “One that was written at the time we drew up the will. Clayton threw that one away and wrote this one after you and Butch Dixon announced your engagement. He told me he didn’t want Butch to feel left out. This isn’t in the letter, but Clayton told me he thought Butch was a fine young man. I guess the two of them had a long talk about the advisability of removing mesquite and trying to reintroduce native grasses.”
Joanna nodded. “It is something we’ve talked about, but there didn’t seem to be much point to doing it on a paltry little forty acres.”
Burton Kimball smiled. “Now you’ll have three hundred and sixty. That’ll be a lot more work.” The lawyer paused and smiled. “By the way,” he added, “congratulations from Linda, and me as well. On your engagement, that is. When’s the big day?”
“Next Saturday.”
“Well, then. I’m sure Clayton would be happy to know that he’s giving the two of you a terrific wedding present. The place will have to be appraised. The IRS will want us to establish current market value for estate-tax purposes. And, of course, that valuation will give you an official basis in the property should you later decide to sell it.”
“What about the will?” Joanna asked. “Is it contestable?”
Burton’s smile disappeared abruptly. “Every will is contestable if someone wants to go to the trouble, that is. However, Clayton stipulated that all costs related to contesting the will are to be deducted from the cash portion of the proceeds. In other words, if Reba tries to go against the will, she’ll have to pay her attorney’s expenses and mine as well. That’s assuming, of course, that you want me to handle it. That would also apply to the expenses of any other attorney you might choose to represent you.”
“Is that why Reba thinks I murdered her father?” Joanna asked. “State law dictates that people found guilty of killing someone aren’t allowed to profit from their actions. If she can somehow cast enough suspicion on me, she’ll be able to destroy the will without actually having to contest it.”