Kissed By The Country Doc. Melinda Curtis
of law.”
Daniel, the younger lawyer, jumped up. “I’ll remind everyone of the clause we read before the break regarding challenges to the will. If you challenge and lose—” he stared at Shane “—your share goes to charity. If you refuse to abide by the terms of the will—” his gaze swept Harlan’s four sons “—your share goes to charity.”
Daniel’s expression was no longer kind. It was firm and lawyerly. He was suddenly the most hated person in the room.
As one, Harlan’s sons, ranging in age from fifty to seventy, stood. They were men who loved their children. They wouldn’t cut them loose. And yet, they surveyed their progeny with odd looks—shocked, saddened, resolute—similar to how Ella imagined she’d stared at Bryce’s face before they’d closed the coffin one last time.
Ella began to doubt.
The four brothers exchanged glances. Nodded. Stepped clear of their chairs.
Ian raised his chin. “You’re all fired, evicted and all contracts with the Monroe Holding Corporation and its entities are revoked.”
The chaos that erupted had the old lawyer cringing and everyone talking at once.
This wasn’t her fight. Ella scooped up her daughter and then immediately retreated to their small house at the rear of the family compound, where she put Penny down for a nap, checked the weather report to see how much snow was expected and did a quick inventory of her refrigerator and pantry to make sure she had enough food to last the storm.
The younger lawyer and her father-in-law found her an hour later.
She made Ian a Scotch on the rocks and asked Daniel repeatedly if she could get him something to drink. He refused every time.
Daniel was probably a good lawyer. He had a calm voice and a placating manner that softened the blow of his words. “Mrs. Monroe, the stipulations of the will apply to you, as well.”
Ella sat down on the arm of her sofa. Hard.
She’d planned to return to the main house and check on the cousins once Penny woke from her nap. The terms of the will were shocking to say the least, and she wanted to be a shoulder to lean on. But apparently, she had a shock of her own to deal with.
Her gaze drifted to a high table by the door and a glass bowl that contained a scuffed baseball, a silver dollar, a turquoise tie tack and a smooth, flat rock. Every time she was cast aside, she took something to remember the place, the home, the people she’d loved. Familiar questions bombarded her: Why can’t I stay? What can I do to change your mind? What will I take to remember you by?
Surely, it hasn’t come to that. I’m a Monroe.
The fact that they were here talking about Harlan’s will stipulations proved it.
Small consolation.
“I don’t understand.” Ella forced her gaze back to the lawyer. “I don’t work for the Monroes and I’m only Harlan’s grandchild by marriage.”
“The clause that applies to you is about your daughter living in a Monroe Holding Corporation property.” How could Daniel look so kind and deliver such devastating news?
“This cabin is owned by the family’s holding company?” Ella glanced around the log-cabin home Grandpa Harlan had built with modern amenities after a trip to the mountains over a decade before. Her gaze landed on the smiling photo of Bryce on the mantel.
Ella’s cabin was a simple rectangle with two bedrooms and one bath, one of four homes in the Monroe compound. She’d been living here rent- and utility-free since Bryce had died. Staying in the house had made her feel like one of the family. She’d been surviving on Bryce’s life insurance, which she was trying to make last until Penny started school in three years, at which point she’d return to work as a real-estate agent. She could afford to live elsewhere. It was just...
Her gaze connected with Ian’s. “You knew about this beforehand.” Not a question. He’d had that look.
Ian set down his drink and stood, drawing Ella to her feet. “Eleanor, I’m sorry, but you have thirty days to figure out what to do.” His bright green gaze was reassuring and reminiscent of Bryce’s, even if his smile wasn’t.
He’d said nothing about her remaining a part of the family, now and forever.
She felt a sense of panic rising in her chest and wished she had the courage to run. But he was family. Her family. Bryce had promised her she’d always be a Monroe. She had to ask the question. “Am I still a part of this family? I...”
Ian’s smile hardened. “You’re the mother of my grandchild.”
So she had her answer. Her temples pounded. Daniel looked away.
“I know you’ll land on your feet. Probably somewhere in the vicinity of a new man.” Ian no longer sounded like the caring father-in-law. His expression was once more reminiscent of regretful goodbyes. “You won’t inherit anything if Penny doesn’t move out.”
Ella sat down again. Harder this time. The wood frame jarred her backside and fear jarred her insides. She should have realized she was just as expendable as the blooded Monroes.
If he was willing to fire and evict his own children, or do whatever needed to be done, she never stood a chance. “I’ll be fine. I’m fully capable of supporting Penny.” Of holding on to her dignity if she couldn’t exactly hold on to her status as one of the Monroes.
Orphaned again? She wanted to cry.
She’d lived in four foster homes in six years. When she’d married Bryce, she’d thought she’d never lose a family again. She’d invested herself in the Monroes, let herself love and trust. And now this.
Someone knocked on the door.
Without waiting for an answer, three of the Monroe cousins trundled in, stomping their boots and shaking their winter jackets to shed the snow that had fallen on their way over.
Sophie pushed her glasses up her nose and scowled at the lawyer. “Has he told you the details regarding our property?”
Ella had been about to offer them food and drink, but... Our property? “The town in Idaho?”
“Two thousand mostly undeveloped acres in the middle of nowhere.” Sophie’s twin, Shane, filled in Ella. Their branch of the family had light brown hair and dark brown eyes. “Fifty or so structures mostly built before the 1950s.”
“Some of which are leased,” Laurel added, distracted by Ella’s gray knit poncho hanging by the door. The Hollywood Monroes had bright red hair and blue eyes. Laurel had been a costume designer at Monroe Studios in Hollywood up until an hour ago. She held the poncho up to the light, inspecting the stitches.
“Leases mean income.” Ella tried to sound optimistic as she wondered what the cousins wanted from her.
“Not in this case.” Shane scowled at the lawyer now, too. “Grandpa Harlan offered leases for one dollar a year.”
Holden barged in without knocking. He hadn’t bothered with a heavy coat and wore only his black wool suit, which was dusted with snow. “We didn’t get your vote, Ella. You have to vote for Penny.”
“Oh, for the love of...” Sophie shook her head. “She’s a single mom, like me. She’s not going to support you.”
“Part of a town is better than nothing.” Laurel turned away from the poncho. “Isn’t that right, Ella?”
Everything was coming at Ella at a dizzying pace. Everyone was looking at her to follow their lead.
“Let Ella make up her own mind.” Holden stood with his hands on his hips and fixed Ella with a firm, obey-me stare. He was cut from the same cloth as Ian and his brothers. “I’ve got six votes for challenging the will. If you vote with me, the tide