Chapter Fifteen
A cat pounced on Catherine’s chest Friday morning, instantly waking her. “I’m awake.” Little Buddy purred and rubbed her soft furry head on Catherine’s chin. “I know. You’re happy to have me home.” But was she happy to be home? As angry as she was, she missed the farm.
Tossing the covers to the side, she sat on the edge of the bed for a moment. The dogs’ ears perked, and their heads popped up. “Okay, everyone. Breakfast time.”
With the animals fed, it was her turn to eat. No milk in the house, or much of anything else, she poured cranberry pomegranate juice over her granola cereal. She crunched through breakfast and decided to confront her mother today about the will. She thought about Josef. The marriage. The land. Their love.
“Oh, hell no!” Her hands slammed on the table. “I do not love him.”
Three dog heads lifted from their food bowls. With heads tipped to the side, they looked at her as though they had done something wrong. The dogs stuffed their faces back into bowls, probably thinking their human was crazy and talking to herself.
What was she thinking? Love? She couldn’t love Josef. Love was a powerful word. After last night, love no longer existed. He deceived her.
The last bite of cereal disappeared, and she put the dogs outside. Looking out the patio door she glanced around at the surroundings. Rows of townhomes lined up. Backed up to one another. No privacy. She had a small grass area the builder association called a yard, with tall white maintenance free privacy fencing to separate her patio from the neighboring patios. Trees and shrubs sparsely spread out for shade and ambiance.
She missed the farm’s wide-open space and turned from the view. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall, envisioning the big mature oak tree in the center of Aunt Elaine’s circle drive and the wide open spaces between the buildings and barn. It was all gone now. Everything destroyed by the tornado. The tornado destroyed dreams of a new home for her horses. Yet she could still have it if she wanted. Two years and she could build her dream on the old farmland.
Time to save money and read the fine print of the contract Elaine had with Josef. Her contract. She would start right away building a small house and barn. And make her own memories.
Several messages popped up when she turned on her cell phone. Her mother wanted to know how things were going. Catherine would let her know soon enough. Four from Josef asking her to come back so they could talk. The next time they talked, construction would begin on her land.
* * * *
“Mom?” Catherine sung out, entering her childhood home. “Are you here?”
“Catherine,” Margaret exclaimed, walking from the kitchen wearing her grapevine covered apron with the statement, Cooking with wine is like cooking with chocolate. Sometimes you have to try a sample.
Catherine grinned at the wine apron. The wording always made her smirk.
“When did you get home?” Her mom embraced her. “We were worried about you and Josef when the weather turned nasty.” Concern shone on her mom’s face as she released the hold. “Is everything okay?”
“No. We need to talk.”
“Sounds serious. Is the kitchen okay? I’m making sauce for tonight.”
“Fine.” She followed. “It smells delicious as always.”
“I’m so lucky your grandmother took the time and had the patience to teach me the family recipe. Otherwise, I don’t know what your father would’ve done. He-a needs-a his-a authentic –a Italian-a sauce-a.” Catherine chuckled at her mom’s attempt at an Italian dialect. “Yous-a laugh. That’s-a good.”
“Enough, Mom.” She sat at the marbled kitchen ledge on a black iron high-backed chair. “How involved were you in the writing of Aunt Elaine’s will?”
“Catherine.” Her mom stood at the stove and stirred the tomato sauce.
“I’m serious. I want to know.”
Margaret stepped to the plastic cutting board and worked on an onion. She wasn’t answering.
“Mom?” Her firm voice gained no response.
Her mom sliced the onion and chopped the slices into small pieces.
“So you did have something to do with it?” Her voice hitched several octaves. Catherine let her mom finish with the onion, stirring it into the sauce mix, before speaking. “I want to know. I need to know. Damn it, I have a right to know.”
“Catherine!” Margaret said with a firm voice.
She had overstepped her vocal boundary as a daughter.
Catherine took a moment to compose herself. “Were you and Aunt Elaine hoping Josef and I would get married? Do you have money invested in the trust fund?”
“What would make you even think such a thing?” Her mom turned from the stove, returned to the cutting board and cut fresh herbs. Margaret wouldn’t look at her.
“It doesn’t answer my question, but then again maybe it does.”
Silence filled the spacious kitchen. Her mom’s non-answers were answers enough.
“What is the story behind the farm? Josef said something about the land belonging to his family. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“Your great-grandfather and Josef’s great-grandfather were playing in a poker game one night. Josef’s great-grandfather bet some of his farmland.”
“Oh my God. It’s true then.” She leaned forward with an elbow resting on the counter while the fingers on her other hand twisted a section of hair as her mother continued.
“No. It rightfully belonged to your great-grandfather and so on down the line. It does not belong to Josef or his family. Josef’s great-grandfather owned the land Josef lives and farms on now. Your great-grandfather built the farmhouse, where it sits today, to flaunt his winning in front of Josef’s great-grandfather.”
Her mom stepped from the stove, approached the marble counter where Catherine sat, reached out and held her hand. “I did talk at great length with Elaine about her wishes and the will. Yes, it was her hope you and Josef would see things through and get married.”
“That’s why she gave us the opposite of what she knew we wanted.” Catherine sat back, contemplating the information. She wasn’t mad. She couldn’t be mad. It was her aunt’s will. Catherine didn’t have to do anything if she didn’t want to.
“Yes. She also hoped for the marriage because then the land would become Josef’s and be back in his family. She knew how much the land meant to him, but I don’t think she was aware he knew the history of the land.”
“Why the marriage trust fund though?” The hair wound around her finger as her mom tended to the pot on the stove.
“I have nothing to do with the trust fund monies. Elaine felt it would work as an incentive.”
“Where did she get the money? Before she … We were talking about the house and all the work she had done. She mentioned not having to take out a loan and using the money made from leasing the land to Josef. How could she afford that large amount?
“I don’t know. She was smart with her finances.”
“But why put a time restraint on it then?”
“Elaine knew if she didn’t put a time frame on the marriage request, then it might never happen. She wanted the money to go someplace where it would be put to good use. She believed in you and Four Hooves and Paws. She thought the money could help you.”
Quiet filled the room. Catherine’s mind twirled like a spinning top, out of control with the new information. But did it change anything? No, because Josef’s marriage proposal was based on what he wanted. He didn’t care about her. Or did he?
“What happened with Josef?” Her mother broke the silence and her thoughts.
“Josef proposed, I said yes, we went to his parents for the holiday, the tornado came and destroyed everything. I broke off the engagement and came home.”
“What?” Margaret exclaimed. She dashed to the counter and yanked Catherine’s left hand from her hair twisting. “Josef—you—engaged?”
“Not any longer.” She reclaimed her hand and resumed twisting. “I have no reason to marry him. Aunt Elaine’s farm is gone. The tornado destroyed everything. I overheard a phone conversation and that’s when I found out he wanted to marry me only because of the land.”
“I think you need to answer the question of why you said yes, Catherine.” Her mom took on that motherly consoling tone and faced Catherine with questioning eyes.
Before she could answer her mother, her phone rang. Josef.