Page 38 of A Mile of Ocean

“He always did clean up nice. It’s been a while since I’ve seen these guys so spiffy, though,” Tate replied as she carried two dozen lilies she planned to leave at her parents’ graves. “I got a bunch of flowers for you, too.”

“Thanks. I completely forgot to pick up any. I should go there every week like you do. By the way, Brent’s re-enacting the shooting after the service. You and I will play the Duchess and Granddad.”

Tate frowned. “Okay. That’s not at all weird. I saw Savannah at the church with her students. She didn’t have to do that. And yet, she did. I said she was smitten.”

Before Trent could respond to that, Brent’s text popped up. “Get this. The cops think we’re looking for a guy wearing fancy cowboy boots.”

“You mean like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy?”

“Someone who isn’t a ranch hand and doesn’t work for a living.”

“He certainly knows how to shoot and blow things up,” Tate stated. “How weird is it that the Duchess acts as if nothing happened between us? She even smiled at me during the church service.”

“She squeezed my hand after the eulogy,” Trent divulged. “That’s her way of saying she approved. The Duchess Callum was never one for apologies. She’d let you ride an extra hour or stay out later than usual rather than say she was sorry.”

“Isn’t that the truth? She approves of us, but not enough to share what happened to our parents.”

“Oh, Colt read their case file. He told me they didn’t die coming back from town. The accident took place at the bridge south of town. Mom was at the wheel, driving north toward the ranch. The gunman hit the tire and caused her to flip the truck before landing upside down in the lagoon.”

“My God, why is it so hard to get the truth from anyone we trusted?”

“Maybe she was told they were coming back from town. Maybe she doesn’t know.”

“Oh, come on, that’s bull. You don’t believe that, do you?” Tate wondered aloud. “Jeez, here she comes with Dolly. It’s time to escort them down to the cemetery. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Trent mumbled.

While the two siblings escorted the older women to the gravesite, they each carried a bouquet for their parents. Once they reached the double heart-shaped headstone in red granite, Trent laid his lilies halfway in the middle of the two names, Travis and Linley Callum. Tate followed, repeating the gesture, placing her flowers next to his. The only difference was that she put her fingers to her lips and then used them to plant a kiss on the red stone before moving on.

The final resting place of their patriarch would be at the front and center of the cemetery, where there would be another double headstone with room for the Duchess Callum later. Theirs was in black granite, stood taller by a foot, and already had an inscription with the name Callum spelled out in gray lettering at the top. She had ordered and paid for the massive headstone years earlier. Today, it served as a focal point until the bench she wanted could arrive next week.

Trent stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to Tate as the ranch hands formed a half circle. United in their grief, Seth read the final words as Woody and Cecil lowered the casket into the already dug hole in the ground.

The sound of the casket settling was followed by a profound silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle from the mourners. Each person felt the weight of the moment, the finality of farewell hanging in the air.

After the casket touched the bottom, Woody and Cecil stepped back, giving space to those who wished to pay their last respects. Trent took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs before he spoke, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Granddad, you were the rock of this family. We’ll carry your legacy with us always.”

Standing beside him, Tate softly added, “Your love was our guiding light.” She dropped a single lily from her bouquet onto the casket.

As the service ended, her grandmother, her face etched with grief, dropped a single red rose onto the casket as she whispered a prayer, her voice barely audible. Dolly’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she let her hand rest gently on the headstone.

The mourners began to disperse, each lost in their thoughts, but the family lingered a moment longer, drawing strength from one another. Trent and Tate exchanged a glance, a silent promise to uphold their grandfather’s commitment to the ranch and its people.

With heavy hearts but a shared sense of duty, they turned away from the grave, ready to face the challenges ahead, united by the love and memories of their departed grandfather.

Chapter Eleven

While the Duchess Callum greeted everyone at the main house who wanted to offer their condolences, Trent and Tate changed out of their clothes and met Brent and his team at Turtle Ridge.

“Eastlyn is filming the re-enactment,” Brent announced. “While everyone thought the shot came from due east, directly behind Mr. and Mrs. Callum, the autopsy suggests that he turned his head at the last minute, and the shot actually originated from a more northerly angle. Using all the evidence available four days after it happened, the ballistic expert believes it traveled about two hundred and fifty yards from a northeast location. The red laser beam you see follows the trajectory of that one bullet. We intend to fan out and walk every inch of ground along this laser path to see if we can find any other evidence the shooter might’ve left behind.”

With Trent sitting atop Phoenix and Tate riding Mermaid, the twins exchanged uneasy looks. “He was definitely out in the open,” Trent said, looking around at the flat terrain.

Tate nodded. “They were both sitting ducks.”

As Brent continued his assessment, he added, “The gunshot wound entered the back of his head at the center in a perfect shot that’s difficult to make. Yet it happened. We hired an expert from Sacramento who will use Eastlyn’s footage of the sightlineto recreate an animated version of events. We should have that back within a couple of days.”

Brent walked toward where Trent and Tate sat on the horses. “Mr. and Mrs. Callum were looking west, watching the sunset. But for him to turn his head, he must’ve heard something to his left that caught his attention.”

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