Parker (8 page)

Hell, had his father thought about that.

Suddenly, the fork of eggs he’d brought to
his mouth didn’t seem so appetizing. His stomach turned at the
thought of another man horning in on what was his and his sisters’.
But how could he stop that from happening?

Get a grip, McKenna.
Just wait until
you know the facts before going off all half-cocked.

“How’s Reba?”

Callie’s question pulled him back into the
conversation. “I haven’t spoken with her this morning, but I assume
she’s fine.”

Mercer reached for a piece of toast on a
platter. “I heard it’s a broken elbow. Ouch.”

“Yes. She’s in a splint for a couple of days
until she can get to a bone doc.”

“Ugh. I bet that gets in the way.”

“I’m sure it does.” He pushed his plate away,
not hungry. “And an inconvenience. She was worried about a blog
post and some sort of editing… Not sure how she could do it.
Something about work. I have no clue what kind of work she
does.”

And he needed to find that out. He just
wanted to know more about her.

He glanced to Callie, who shrugged. “Maybe
I’ll see if she needs some help. Blogging and posting and all that
sort of thing are up my alley.”

Parker smiled at his sister. “I’m sure she’d
appreciate it, but that woman is damned stubborn. I’ll bet you a
dollar she won’t take you up on your offer.”

Callie smiled sweetly and picked up her cell
phone. “I’ll take that bet, Brother.” She started scrolling for a
number and then pushed.

“What are you doing?”

Callie put up one finger and mouthed the word
Wait
.

Parker waited.
Hell.

“Reba? Hi! It’s Callie McKenna. I’m just
checking in to see how you are doing and if there is anything you
need. We are all having breakfast over here and just wondered.”

She paused and looked into Parker’s eyes as
she listened. “Oh, that’s great. I’m glad you are feeling better
and that you finally got a good night’s sleep.” Callie gave a
thumbs-up to Parker. “Are you drinking your water, and did you
eat?”

Parker glanced off, feeling a little like a
voyeur to the conversation yet hanging on to every word.

“Good,” Callie continued. “Oh yes, Parker is
here too. Yes, I believe he got rested up.” Callie listened for
another minute. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

Callie flashed a grin and another thumbs-up
his way. Parker looked to the faces around the table, his cheeks
heating up in embarrassment.

“Reba, you sound so much better than you did
yesterday. I’m glad.” Callie picked at a cuticle, listening.
“Umhmm. Yes. Of course.” Another pause. “I see. Oh Reba, yesterday
you said you had a lot of work to do. I’m not sure what you do, but
can I help with that? I need to put my degree to work or I’ll get
rusty.”

She laughed then, and Parker heard Reba’s
giggle come through from the other end. Reba and Callie had become
good friends?

“Excellent! I can definitely help you with
that. I’ll see you Tuesday morning then. Bye, Reba!”

Callie clicked off the phone and laid it face
down on the table. Slowly, she turned a smug face toward Parker.
“That will be one dollar please.”

Parker rolled his eyes, reached for his
wallet, and held out a dollar bill.

Grinning, Callie said, “She’s not so
stubborn.”

“She sure the hell is with me!”

Still smiling, Callie rose and snatched the
bill out of his fingers. “Then that’s your issue, big Brother.
Stubborn is as stubborn does.” Callie headed off to the kitchen
with her plate.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Figure it out,” she called over her
shoulder.

Parker repeated, scanning his siblings faces,
“What the hell does that mean?”

“Parker,” Liz said, “there are little ears
here. Watch your mouth.” She nodded toward Livy.

“Sorry. Heck. What the heck…”

Mercer punched him from his right. “I think
big Brother has a crush on our new neighbor.”

“I don’t do crushes, remember? We’ve already
been down this road. Stop.”

He rose, picking up his own plate to take to
the kitchen.

“Parker, you haven’t eaten. Are you
okay?”

That came from Liz. He glanced her way. “I’m
fine. Just not real hungry right now. I’ll cover it and save for
later.”

Liz waved him off. “Oh goodness, no. There is
enough food there to feed an army. Just get a fresh plate when
you’re ready.” She paused as he headed for the kitchen area. “But I
do want to talk to all of you, so come back and get a seat once you
are finished there.”

Callie nudged his shoulder playfully as she
headed back to the table. “Oh, and by the way, Reba wanted me to
tell you thanks again for everything you have done for her and that
she’s made arrangements for the insurance company to come and look
at her SUV tomorrow. She said she hopes that will be okay with you.
She wants to get it taken care of as soon as possible.”

“She needn’t worry about that.”

“I think she just needs to take care of
business.”

I want to take care of business and it has
nothing to do with her truck. Dammit, where is my brain?
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 daily
chores and at every meal.

I’m still there kissing you good night and
drinking a cup of coffee with you in the morning. I’m here, with
you, at home.

Any decisions I have made regarding my last
will and testament were made with all of these thoughts in
mind.

Your loving husband and father, James
McKenna

Liz stopped speaking and lowered the letter.
Her eyes downcast, she stared at a spot on the table in front of
her. Parker watched her from the opposite end, noticing her shaking
hands. She was suffering along with the rest of them.
Simultaneously, he took in the sniffles and soft sobs from everyone
else around him.

We’re all suffering.

It was a solemn moment. The silence was
warranted. One by one, James McKenna’s children got up and drifted
off—except for Parker. Liz finally looked up and said, “I’ll leave
this letter on the table for anyone who wants to read it
again.”

Parker would, later. His father’s voice
resonated in those words, and that was nearly his undoing. The past
few days had been so busy he had not stopped long enough to let the
grief catch up and take hold.

Well, it had now. With full force.

His chest ached with a heaviness he’d only
felt once before—when his mother died.

Now, he wasn’t worried so much about what
happened with the ranch. He was worried more about how they all
were going to go on living, without the one man in their lives who
had meant everything.

And he figured Liz was thinking the same
thing.

Slowly, he got up and rounded the table. He
approached Liz’s side and reached for her hand.

She looked up, tears spilling over her lower
lids. “I’m not sure how I can go on without him,” she
whispered.

Parker grasped her hand and pulled her to her
feet. He faced her and looked into her eyes, knowing that this was
his moment of resolution. Whatever words were in his father’s will
didn’t really matter so much anymore. “We have each other, Liz.
We’re family. All of us. And whatever Dad wanted, we’ll do with his
blessing.”

He hugged her then, and her arms went around
his neck. Liz’s body shook as she cried, and Parker held her until
she stilled, quieted. Finally, she pulled back and looked up to
him.

“Thank you, Parker,” she said. “I am so
relieved. I have felt so lost the past couple of weeks. I just
didn’t know….”

He gripped her hands tighter. “Shh, Liz.
We’re family. We’re McKennas. You, Brody, Murphy, all of us. And
there is no stronger bond than that. As long as we have each other,
we can get through anything.”

Liz sobbed a little again and squeezed his
hands back, glancing to the floor between them. Finally, she looked
up and said, “You’re just like him, you know? I may need to lean on
you once in a while.”

He nodded. “I was just thinking that I may
need to lean on you.”

Chapter Eight

Tuesday morning

“OMG. Reba, you are Bekah from
Bekah’s
Cottage
?”

Reba chuckled at Callie’s reaction. Ever
since Callie had called Sunday morning, Reba wondered how she was
going to enlist Callie’s help without actually revealing who she
was. Now that a couple of days had passed it wasn’t a big deal that
Callie knew, or that anyone around here knew, for that matter. When
her
Bekah’s Cottage
food blog first took off a couple of
years ago, Reba made the decision to be anonymous. Back then, she
used avatars and manipulated stock art to represent her in
pictures, and she just hadn’t stopped. There was a reason for doing
that, however. She had wanted—no needed—her work life and her
private life to remain very separate.

That fact had been especially important when
Jack was dying and she needed to fall back on Bekah as her escape
from reality. She’d never discussed her personal life on her blog,
or that Jack had cancer. Not once had she posted anything about her
trials, tribulations, and daily struggles. Not that she didn’t
think others could benefit from knowing what she was going through,
but she simply needed to keep her private life private.

And she needed for Bekah to project life in a
perfect world—a world where things like cancer and death do not
intrude. People needed positivity in their lives, and she strived
to provide that—along with a temporary escape. She knew that
because she craved it, too. Besides, Jack had insisted she not
discuss their lives, and his illness, in public. No doubt it was
the right decision.

Things needed to change—Jack had been gone
over six months now, and she was eager to introduce Montana as her
new home. She also wanted to share beyond her virtual life and make
the cabin and renovated kitchen known to her followers. She was
ready for it to be real. Now was as good a time as any to make that
transition.