Page 32 of Between a Rock and a Hard Cowboy

She didn’t know if the sideways glance William sent her was meant to convey respect or censure but it didn’t really matter. He did what she’d asked. He reached inside and pulled out the first bundle of papers.

“They look like letters,” Wyatt observed.

“They are.” William nodded. “Letters from John T. Wilder written to his wife Martha during the Civil War.”

“Oh my God!” Poppy exclaimed from where she stood in front of the counter next to the big kitchen stove. “I read about his time in the war while I was researching him for the history I added to the hotel’s website.”

After untying the bundle, William opened the first letter, then looked up. “This one was written about the battle at Shiloh.”

“Oh my. Those should probably be in a museum. They’ve got historical value,” Olivia said through the phone.

“Or you could make an exhibit in the Wilder with them. Attract some tourists,” Eva suggested.

She agreed the public should have access to important historical documents, but since she was the one to find these, she wasn’t keen on just handing them over to some museum who might lock them away in storage or send them who knew where.

Poppy spun to face her, mixing bowl and spoon in hand. “Oh my God. You’re right. They’d be perfect in that hallway off the lobby. Wyatt? We could get them professionally framed with like archival matting and UV protective glass so they’re protected.”

“Sure. Fine,” Wyatt agreed, in what had become a familiar refrain since Poppy had proven herself worthy of her master’s degree in hospitality management.

Abandoning the letters on the counter, William dove back into the contents of the box.

He began unfolding the next paper which turned out to be quite large. He smiled. “It’s the original deed for the first piece of property he bought on Roan Mountain.”

“Yes, Poppy, we can display that at the Wilder too.” Wyatt answered the question before Poppy had a chance to ask it. “Or at least a good color reproduction of it. We might want to keep the original in the safe. I’ll ask the lawyer.”

Ethan let out a long whistle. “Jeezus, I hope that deed’s not something we’d ever need to prove ownership. Not only has it been missing for well over a century, but can you imagine if the cabin had caught fire? Would our claim on our family land have gone up in smoke?”

As Ethan speculated, William had remained silent as he read through whatever he’d taken out of the box next.

When a frown appeared on his father’s brow, Linc asked, “Dad, what is that?”

He drew in a breath and raised his gaze to meet his son’s. “It’s the Last Will and Testament of John T. Wilder.”

“Like a copy of the original one that left everything to his first son John?” Wyatt asked.

William lowered the paper to the table, drew in a breath and let it out slowly before he said, “I don’t think so.”

“So it’s an older version then?” Wyatt stepped closer.

The blood had drained from William’s face as he said, “No. It was signed in 1907 and leaves fifty-percent to his son, John Stewart Wilder, and fifty-percent to his son Paul John Wilder, his portion of the estate to be administered by his mother Dora Wilder until he reached the age of twenty-one.”

“Dora?” Ethan frowned. “I thought his wife was Martha.”

“Hold this.” Eva thrust her cell with Olivia still on FaceTime at Linc. Swinging her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor, she grabbed her laptop and was typingJohn T. Wilder wivesinto the search field before William could answer his middle son.

“Martha died in 1892. In 1904, at the age of seventy-four, John married his nurse, Dora Lee, who was twenty-six years old. They had one son. Paul, born in 1907.” Eva glanced up and saw that all three Wilder men were now as pale as their father.

“What’s happening? I can’t hear anything and now I can’t see anything.” Olivia’s complaint came through the cell phone in the hand that Linc had let drop to his side.

Eva reviewed what she’d just read that had made the Wilders go catatonic. She continued reading aloud, trying to reason what was going on. “According to this, John and Dora’s son Paul had a son Peter, born in 1947.” She glanced up at the still silent men in the room.

William came out of it first. He cleared his throat and said, “Peter also had a son.” He raised his gaze to meet Eva’s and said, “Emmett.”

As Eva tried to absorb what William had just revealed, Wyatt said, “And according to this will, he’s due half of everything.”

Holy shit.

ChapterSixteen

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