In His Will Read Free Page B

plan, too. For you, my little one, I’ll do anything.”
    She took the business card the lawyer discreetly slipped into her pocket, picked up the telephone, and dialed. “Mr. Cheviot? This is Sondra Thankful. I’ve decided to move to the Curly Q as soon as we take care of the arrangements.”
    ❧
    Dylan dumped a bale of hay onto the barn floor. The wire snapped, just like his temper. How could Miller do this to him? He’d arranged long ago for the loan it would take to gain the greater portion of the land. He owned sufficient collateral and kept enough in the bank to swing the deal. No one knew the land better; no one loved it more. He didn’t want a handout. Hadn’t expected one. Accustomed to working hard for everything he ever got, Dylan never once presumed that Miller would simply hand over the ranch. Still, he’d said things over the years which made it clear that he fully expected Dylan to own the land when he was gone.
    The strange bequest came as such a shock. A nasty one, at that. Even worse, it went to a city-girl. She’d foul things up so badly, the Curly Q wouldn’t be worth a plug nickel in a year. It would serve her right for him to let her flounder.
    Then Dylan looked out of the open barn door. Land was too precious to be squandered, too dear to be misused. Livestock was certainly too valuable to be mistreated. . .and thirty percent of the value of that livestock waited for him at the end of the year. He couldn’t let all of that go to rack and ruin any more than he could chop off his right arm. Kicking the hay, he bitterly accepted Miller had counted on that very fact.
    Even worse, the thought of the land being leveled, cemented, and turned into row upon row of cookie-cutter tract homes made his blood curdle. He loved standing in a field and seeing nothing but God’s beautiful earth for almost as far as the eye could see. Marring this with noise, traffic, and houses— never . Sondra actually threatened yesterday that she could opt for the fifteen grand and let the land go to the developers. Whatever it took, Dylan vowed he’d make certain the land wasn’t violated like that.
    What it would take was honoring Miller’s request. He’d call and reason with her. For the sake of a dead friend’s last request, Dylan would do it.
    “Okay. I bail her out for one stinking year,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m not letting her hire someone to run the show, though. That’s asking far too much.”
    ❧
    Sondra carried in her suitcase, set it on the bed, and opened the window. Sunshine filtered through the dusty window and a breeze made the brown paisley curtains sway. She looked around with a sense of awe.
    She’d been in the house on several occasions, but most of the rooms were closed off. Taking a tentative tour, she decided to occupy the master bedroom and turn the adjacent bedroom into a nursery. The third bedroom looked to be a guest room, so it could be left alone. Miller had converted the fourth bedroom into an office, and she felt a spurt of relief at the neatly arranged books and files that would help guide her through the next year. The kitchen looked old, but serviceable. The gouges in the walnut coffee table reminded her of Miller’s habit of propping his feet up. The house felt lived-in and comfortable. God, You’ve blessed me far beyond what I ever dreamed of.
    She traipsed down the stairs into the basement and noted with glee that the washer and dryer were in good condition. The far corner boasted an iron-reinforced, cement tornado shelter. Once, last spring, when the skies turned an ugly green and hail started falling, Miller had grabbed her and taken her there for safety. Yes, safety. This house was a monument to the security God was providing for her and the baby. Sondra came back upstairs, made a few quick phone calls, then went out into the yard.
    Unsure where to start, Sondra headed for the henhouse. She’d been there dozens of times, and it shouldn’t be too hard to