Page 63 of Higher Ground
Emory heard the pattering of footsteps near the door.
“Mummy will be out soon,” Byron continued. His voice faded away as he guided Clayton back down the hall.
Something new joined Emory’s bubbling cauldron of emotion. It turned thick in her stomach and pulled at hershoulders. No matter how excited she was to leave Gardner Creek, it was really going to suck leaving Byron. If she stayed here any longer, she was going to chicken out of leaving the town altogether.
She knew what she had to do.
Reaching above her head, she pulled her hair out of the respectable bun and scratched at her scalp.
How on earth was she going to tell Byron it was time for her to move out?
Chapter 32
Byron
Byron tipped back onto the ground, swinging his legs up and lifting Clayton above his chest. Clayton giggled in the air, rocking side to side on Byron’s feet as he hummed exaggerated aeroplane noises. It was a silly game, but Clayton loved ‘flying’ through the air almost as much as he loved pretending to drive the quad bike.
He was such a playful kid, and Byron could get lost in his imagination with the boy. It didn’t matter where they were, the two always seemed to find fun.
It didn’t matter where they were.
Byron reminded himself, even though his decision had already been made. Looking back, Byron had known for a while now that his days on the farm were numbered. He’d known it long before the flood came through, and recent events had only solidified his decision. It was time for him to move on to his next big chapter.
When his legs began to ache, he lowered Clayton to the ground. “Papa needs a drink. Can you get the trucks out?”
“Race track?” Clayton asked, pulling the tub of trucks from the shelving unit under the TV.
“Yeah, start building the biggest one we’ve ever made, okay?”
Clayton didn’t answer. He tipped the tub on its side and started pulling out all the bits of road from the bottom. Hopefully, building such a big track would take him a while.
Now that Emory was secluded in the study for her interview, Byron had a call to make. One that he didn’t want her knowing about. Not yet. Not until it was all final and she couldn’t try to talk him out of it.
It had been a long time since Byron had called his lawyer. Back when Jaxon had arrived in town with Emory by his side and the two needed somewhere to stay. He’d transferred the cottage into Jaxon’s name and adjusted his will, and he’d thought that would be the end of it. But he needed legal advice now. Needed to make sure he could do what he wanted. Standing from the floor, he grabbed his phone and moved towards the kitchen. Close enough he could still keep an eye on Clayton, but far enough from the study that there was absolutely no chance Emory would hear if her interview finished early.
The old lawyer’s secretary picked up after a few rings, and upon hearing Byron’s name, she transferred the call. It helped, coming from the family who founded the small town. A small pang fluttered through Byron’s chest, but he ignored it.
“Byron, I’ve been waiting for your call,” the lawyer said through the phone.
“Really, why?”
“People always tend to call when an estranged child comes back. What do you need?”
Straight to the point, no pleasantries. I guess that’s how life goes when you bill by the minute. Byron didn’t care, he would give up everything in his bank for his plan to work.
“Actually, I want to transfer the title of the farm now. Instead of waiting until I cark it.”
“To who?”
“Tucker.” He had to swallow down the itching at his throat.
The old lawyer sighed through the phone. Byron imagined him leaning back against his chair, maybe crossing one leg over the other. “That’s … not what I was expecting.”
“You thought I would give part of it to Jaxon?”
“I thought with Jaxon back in town, you’d consider your options and make him consider his. You wouldn’t be the first rich man to put caveats on an inheritance.”
Could you do that? Leave conditions on your will to ensure your benefactors acted the way you wanted? Byron supposed you must be able to, if his lawyer was suggesting it. It wouldn’t matter, though; Jaxon was Jaxon, and Byron doubted any amount of money would change that. With a huff, he told the lawyer as much. “I don’t even think the promise of an inheritance would turn Jaxon into a good father.”
