Stop
thinking about her kisses and focus on something else. Like perhaps
what Liz wants to talk about.
The squeeze hit his gut. Taking a deep
breath, he scraped his plate, rinsed it, and left it in the sink.
Before he sat back down again, he topped off his coffee. Finally,
he settled in and waited.
Liz began. “Kids, as you all found out a few
days ago, your father had been ill before he fell off the horse,
although he never told any of you. He knew his time was short, and
he started to make plans.”
“So you knew what his plans were?” Mercer
questioned her mother.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not really.
He talked with me and we discussed options, but ultimately I left
any decisions about the ranch up to him. It’s all his land—land
that he bought or acquired long before I came into the picture.
Your father made decisions for me, for all of us, for a very long
time. I trusted him to make his final decisions, without my
interference.”
Parker stared at the top of the cherry dining
table. Liz was right. James McKenna had been the true patriarch,
and he prided himself on providing for his family. There were a
number of times throughout his life Parker had wondered why his
father had made a decision to do something in a certain way and had
been concerned he was making a mistake—only to come to realize down
the road his father was right all along.
I need to trust that he has made the right
decisions for all of us.
“He met with Tom a few weeks before he died
and filed a last will and testament. He amended what was previously
there. He told me that much but did not go into details. He did
give me this,” she held up a plain white, sealed envelope, “and
asked me to read it to you a few days after his death. So that is
what I am going to do now.”
Parker interjected, “Has Tom seen this?”
She shook her head. “No one has seen this,
and to my knowledge, only your father knows what is written here.
I’d like to keep it that way. Just between us.”
Parker took a deep breath and glanced about
the table to each of his siblings. The faces staring back at him
were stone sober. “I’m good with that,” he said.
The others seemingly agreed, for they all
relaxed.
“All right.” Liz took a letter opener and
slipped it under the flap, breaking the seal. She removed and
unfolded the single piece of white paper inside and began
reading:
To my dear Liz and my wonderful
children—Parker, Callie, Brody and Mercer:
You all are my light and my love. You each
gave meaning and purpose to an old man’s existence—all in your own
unique ways. There is no way I can express individually what you
have meant to me over the years—because my life would have been
incomplete without all of you collectively in it.
And to my beautiful Claire, my first love,
and the mother of my firstborn children. I have never stopped
loving you. I never shall. I long to see you on the other side…
In a few days you all will learn of my
wishes regarding the ranch. But before that happens, I want to talk
to you directly and share what is in my heart.
It has always been my desire to provide a
safe, secure and happy home for my family. I have dreamed of a
ranch that would support us, sustain us, and provide for us for the
long term. I pray that it is your wish to carry on my dreams and
desires. This is your home. Always remember that. This is where
some of you were born, and this is where some of us will die.
It’s McKenna land. Before that, some of it
was Parker land. It shall remain our land, no matter how it
manifests itself in the future.
My request is that within the next few days,
all of you embrace each other, your family, and realize that we all
want the same thing. Love each other and take care of each other in
my absence. I’m not there, not in body anyway, but I’m there in
spirit. I’m in the breeze, in the dirt, in the hay, and in every
animal that lives and breathes on our land. I’m there in your
thinking about her kisses and focus on something else. Like perhaps
what Liz wants to talk about.
The squeeze hit his gut. Taking a deep
breath, he scraped his plate, rinsed it, and left it in the sink.
Before he sat back down again, he topped off his coffee. Finally,
he settled in and waited.
Liz began. “Kids, as you all found out a few
days ago, your father had been ill before he fell off the horse,
although he never told any of you. He knew his time was short, and
he started to make plans.”
“So you knew what his plans were?” Mercer
questioned her mother.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not really.
He talked with me and we discussed options, but ultimately I left
any decisions about the ranch up to him. It’s all his land—land
that he bought or acquired long before I came into the picture.
Your father made decisions for me, for all of us, for a very long
time. I trusted him to make his final decisions, without my
interference.”
Parker stared at the top of the cherry dining
table. Liz was right. James McKenna had been the true patriarch,
and he prided himself on providing for his family. There were a
number of times throughout his life Parker had wondered why his
father had made a decision to do something in a certain way and had
been concerned he was making a mistake—only to come to realize down
the road his father was right all along.
I need to trust that he has made the right
decisions for all of us.
“He met with Tom a few weeks before he died
and filed a last will and testament. He amended what was previously
there. He told me that much but did not go into details. He did
give me this,” she held up a plain white, sealed envelope, “and
asked me to read it to you a few days after his death. So that is
what I am going to do now.”
Parker interjected, “Has Tom seen this?”
She shook her head. “No one has seen this,
and to my knowledge, only your father knows what is written here.
I’d like to keep it that way. Just between us.”
Parker took a deep breath and glanced about
the table to each of his siblings. The faces staring back at him
were stone sober. “I’m good with that,” he said.
The others seemingly agreed, for they all
relaxed.
“All right.” Liz took a letter opener and
slipped it under the flap, breaking the seal. She removed and
unfolded the single piece of white paper inside and began
reading:
To my dear Liz and my wonderful
children—Parker, Callie, Brody and Mercer:
You all are my light and my love. You each
gave meaning and purpose to an old man’s existence—all in your own
unique ways. There is no way I can express individually what you
have meant to me over the years—because my life would have been
incomplete without all of you collectively in it.
And to my beautiful Claire, my first love,
and the mother of my firstborn children. I have never stopped
loving you. I never shall. I long to see you on the other side…
In a few days you all will learn of my
wishes regarding the ranch. But before that happens, I want to talk
to you directly and share what is in my heart.
It has always been my desire to provide a
safe, secure and happy home for my family. I have dreamed of a
ranch that would support us, sustain us, and provide for us for the
long term. I pray that it is your wish to carry on my dreams and
desires. This is your home. Always remember that. This is where
some of you were born, and this is where some of us will die.
It’s McKenna land. Before that, some of it
was Parker land. It shall remain our land, no matter how it
manifests itself in the future.
My request is that within the next few days,
all of you embrace each other, your family, and realize that we all
want the same thing. Love each other and take care of each other in
my absence. I’m not there, not in body anyway, but I’m there in
spirit. I’m in the breeze, in the dirt, in the hay, and in every
animal that lives and breathes on our land. I’m there in your
Similar Books
