CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ALEX WOKE TO a dry mouth, a splitting headache...and something soft and fluffy and sweet-smelling pulled up to his chin. He opened his eyes to a dim, narrow room. It wasn’t his apartment, and yet there was something familiar about it, and about the red comforter covering him.

He shut his eyes. He tried to think, but his head wasn’t working right. The last thing he remembered clearly was finding a twenty-foot tow chain in his grandfather’s machine shed and taking it to the gate, along with what was left of his bottle of tequila. After as much as he’d consumed, the idea of chaining himself to the gate had seemed brilliant. He’d had a vague notion of bulldozers on their way to knock down his grandparents’ house and rip out the fencing and tear up the fields, and the only way to stop this was to fasten himself to the gate.

After that things went all swimmy. He thought he remembered headlights and taillights up and down the road, and shouting out challenges at the drivers—or were they the Mexican army?

He also thought he might have done some singing.

There was something else in the hazy part of his memory, something about Lauren. But that part was a dream...wasn’t it?

He opened his eyes again. Thin wintry sunlight outlined shapes that could only be magnetic window covers. This was definitely Lauren’s van.

He held very still—partly because of his head, and partly because he wasn’t sure even now what was real and what wasn’t. Whether this was real or not, it was nice. And once he got up and started talking, things would not be so nice or so simple. Dream or not, he wanted to keep this part going as long as possible.

“Good morning.”

Alex’s heart leaped into his throat.

“Wh-where are you?” he asked. His voice was like metal wheels on gravel.

“Over here. In the passenger seat.”

She stirred a little. In the semidarkness, covered by a blanket, she’d blended right in.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He sat up cautiously, enough to prop himself on one elbow. “Not great.”

She got up, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and went to the little fridge.

“Um...” Alex cleared his throat and made a back-and-forth motion with his hand between the two of them. “Did, uh, did anything...?”

She smiled as she took out two bottles of kombucha. “No, Alex. I did not take advantage of you last night while you were drunk.”

“Oh. Okay.” He felt stupid for asking. “I didn’t think so. I mean...well, I’m guessing I was not at my most attractive last night.”

Lauren chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. You do have a lovely singing voice.”

Oh, no.

“That ‘Ballad of the Alamo’ song—was that Johnny Cash?”

He cringed. “Marty Robbins.”

Welp, that was it, then. The last nail in the coffin. If she hadn’t already rejected him soundly however many hours ago, she’d for sure be done with him now.

Only what was he doing now, on the mattress in her van? What was she doing here at all?

The questions must have showed on his face, because she said, “We can talk later. Right now you need to get some fluids in you and rest some more. Do you think you can sip some kombucha?”

“Yeah.”

She found some pill bottles, poured out some pills and handed them to him, along with the kombucha.

“Take these.”

He swallowed them down. “What are they?”

“Ibuprofen and prenatal vitamins.”

“Hey,” he protested, but weakly.

“Don’t knock it. Right now you need all the help you can get. Now lie down again.”

He did. She sounded very in control, and that was comforting.

Then she pulled the comforter back up around him, laid a hand on his forehead and smiled down at him. Her hand felt soft and cool.

“Go to sleep, Alex.”

He shut his eyes. For a moment he thought she kissed his cheek, but that couldn’t be right, and, anyway, he was already half-asleep again.

He had a lot of questions, but his head hurt too much to bother about them right now. He did feel better, though. Taken care of.

It was a nice change.


WHEN HE NEXT WOKE, his head no longer throbbed. He was even hungry. And he could smell something foodlike.

In fact, he could smell mesquite fire and...wait, no. That couldn’t be right.

He sat up cautiously, then stood. He was a little weak in the legs, but his head and stomach were okay. Lauren was nowhere in sight.

A toothbrush still in the package was lying at the edge of the sink, along with a small tube of toothpaste. Alex brushed his teeth at the little van sink and felt better still.

He opened the door of the van—

And stopped in his tracks.

Outside, a camp was set up. White twinkle lights sparkled on the outside of the van, and a mesquite fire was indeed burning in a portable firepit. Two camp chairs sat close to the fire; a quilt was spread out on the grass. Lauren was setting up some dishes at an enamel folding table, which also held bags and cartons. An extension cord ran from the van to his grandfather’s workshop.

Alex recognized the table and firepit from Lauren’s Instagram. He also recognized the logo on the food packaging.

“Cocina de Pecarí! I knew I could smell their fajitas, but I thought I was having some sort of aroma hallucination. Oh, man. My mouth is literally watering right now.”

“Good! I had dinner there last night, so knew they were nearby, and it turns out they deliver. I’m glad you like the place. I thought you might.”

“It’s my favorite restaurant. It’s actually where I wanted to take you.”

She looked embarrassed, and he wanted to kick himself for mentioning their date that never was. It was mean and ungrateful, especially after she’d gone to so much trouble to look after him. It wasn’t like she owed him anything.

“Thanks for getting the food,” he said. “And for the toothbrush.”

“No problem. I always keep a few spares. Would you like to use the outdoor shower? It’s easy to set up.”

“Thanks. I do feel pretty gross. I’ll have to put the same clothes back on, though, so I don’t know how much of an improvement it’ll be.”

“I have a shirt you can wear. And I found a pair of jeans hanging on the clothesline. They look like your size.”

“Oh, those are mine. I left them here last week.”

“That sounds like an interesting story.”

“Not really. I drove straight out here after work to feed cattle. I brought an older pair to change into and forgot to take the nicer ones back with me. Oh, and that reminds me—I didn’t drive drunk last night. I brought the tequila out here, and I had my reenactor clothes with me in the truck, so I didn’t have to go home for them. I was gonna have them cleaned, after Béxar. So, yeah. Just wanted you to know that. I was an idiot, but I wasn’t a reckless idiot.”

She set up the shower between the opened back doors of the van. A shower curtain protected the inside of the van, and another ran across the back.

The water was surprisingly hot. It felt good against his skin, but he didn’t linger. The air was mild enough, but not so warm that it was comfortable being naked for very long. Anyway, he could smell the fajitas, and his stomach was rumbling by now.

He made a quick but thorough job of it, then toweled himself off and pulled on his jeans.

The shirt she’d left for him was lime green, with a picture of a van driving on a ribbon of highway underneath the words Van Life. It looked like something Lauren would buy, but it was man-sized, way too big for her.

He carried it back to the camp area.

“Is this Evan’s shirt?”

She made a face. “Ew, no. It’s mine. I bought it big to sleep in.”

Her glance trailed down his bare chest and abs. It soothed his hurt pride a little. He might have made a drunken idiot of himself, but at least she thought he had a nice body.

But he couldn’t go around stripped to the waist like some punk. He put on the shirt.

“There. Do I look like a hipster?”

She laughed. “Oh, yeah. Like a real van-traveling man.”

It felt good to be hungry. It felt even better to eat. They didn’t talk about last night, not yet. They talked about a hundred other things—Alex’s memories of the ranch, places Lauren had traveled. Alex had feelings of deep contentment, and simmering excitement, and unreality. Weirdly enough, this was pretty much what he’d planned for the date he’d wanted to take her on.

Why had she come back? He was burning to know, but he didn’t want to mess up the good feeling by asking. He was content to...well, live in the moment. He wasn’t going to trouble himself with what it all meant, or even with what lay in store for the land. Right here and now, he was with Lauren at his ancestral home, and that was something to cherish.

But when the food was all eaten and the fire was dying down, his loss hit him full force. It felt like grief, like someone had died.

“I’m sorry about the land,” Lauren said, and he realized he’d been staring out over the fields. He must have told her what happened last night—how coherently, he didn’t know. But he thought he remembered something about it, and about crying like a baby in her arms.

“I can’t believe it’s gone,” he said. “I can’t believe I lost. I told Claudia I was prepared for the possibility, but I wasn’t, not really. I always believed somehow that if I just stalled the judge long enough, and worked hard enough, things would somehow be okay. Faith would have its reward.” He picked up a stick and tossed it into the fire. “Stupid.”

“There’s nothing stupid about it. You loved the land and you wanted it. That’s perfectly natural. And you did your best, so you have nothing to regret. So...what happened exactly? I’m a little short on details.”

He dropped onto the quilt and stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head. “There aren’t many details to be had. Yesterday, after we...after you drove away, I got a call from Claudia. The judge has decided to end the probate. It’s over. My dad gets the land, the ranch gets razed, the nearest casino gets a fresh infusion of cash and Tony and I get screwed.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

He didn’t know if she meant she was sorry about the land, or sorry about breaking his heart, or both. He was afraid he might have made himself sound kind of pitiful.

“I know I’m acting like an entitled brat,” he said. “It’s not like anything was actually taken from me. The land was never really mine to begin with. It was my grandfather’s. And he had a right to do what he wanted with it...even if what he wanted was to give it to my father to be frittered away. It’s just not what I expected, and not what my grandfather said he would do. He always said he’d take care of me and Tony, and I believed him. That part hurts as much as the loss of the land itself, the fact that he didn’t do what he said.”

“People always think they have more time, so they put off important things. And it can’t have been easy, disinheriting his only son. It’s understandable that he dragged his feet. Still, it sucks for you and Tony. You must have felt pretty beat down. And not just yesterday. Your whole life you’ve been let down by people who should have protected and provided for you.”

His eyes stung. “Pretty much. But not you. You put your own plans on hold, and showed up when I needed someone, and took care of me. I had no right to expect that of you. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He turned to face her. “How did that happen? How did you even know?”

“Well, I didn’t, at first—or at least, not about the land. While I was at Cocina de Pecarí, those two cops were there, and they got a call about some whack job in costume chained to a ranch gate, shouting ‘remember the Alamo’ at passing cars. Who could that be but you?”

He writhed.

“How’d you get me unchained? I thought I did a pretty good job securing myself to the gate.”

“You left the key to the padlock around your wrist, genius.”

He laughed, and the laugh turned into a groan. Then he rolled onto his stomach and hid his face with his arms, like he used to when he was little and playing with his dogs.

“Well, it’s a good thing you did,” she said. “I got you unchained, and that was the end of it. The cops didn’t even cite you. They seemed relieved the whole thing was over.”

They weren’t the only ones. He might easily have ended up in jail if she hadn’t intervened. He could just picture his mug shot, with his Tequila-ravaged face and rumpled Siege of Béxar outfit.

“I’m sorry, Lauren.”

“For what?”

“Everything. Making a spectacle of myself, being a sanctimonious jerk. All those things I said to you about responsible behavior, and a few hours later I’m a sloppy drunk on the verge of a public-intoxication charge.”

He heard her stirring, then felt her sit beside him on the quilt. She laid a hand on his back.

“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” she said. “You were right about me. I was running away because I was scared—too scared to see what an amazing thing you were trying to do for me. You were willing to take this major detour in your life for my sake, willing to take me with all my baggage—with my baby. And I panicked. I threw it all in your face. I blamed you for Evan’s mistakes—but you’re nothing like Evan. Everyone who knows you knows that. You’re good and hardworking and conscientious—you care about people. You’re passionate about everything you do. Whether it’s Texas history or family land or old furniture, or me. When you care about something, you’re all in.”

His heart pounded against his ribs. What was she saying?

Her fingers combed slowly through his hair, making his whole body tingle.

“I love you, Alex.”

He rolled over. She was looking down at him, her eyes dark and huge in her heart-shaped face, the long waves of her hair trailing to his chest.

“Y-you do?”

She laughed, and he did, too.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just... I can’t quite believe it.”

“Believe it.”

He closed his hand over hers and held it to his lips. “Well, I love you, too. But you already knew that.”

“Yes. And if your offer still stands, I’m in.”

“Which offer?”

“To move forward and see what happens.”

“Oh.”

She frowned. “What do you mean, ‘Oh’? Is that not okay?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I mean it’s more than fine. Only... I thought maybe you meant my other offer. I thought maybe you were going to say you would marry me.”

She laughed again and dropped her head to his chest.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“You are. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”

“Well, then. Marry me.”

“I can’t marry you—not yet. I barely know you.”

“You know me plenty. What about all those things you just said, about me being such a solid guy and a good provider and all?”

“That doesn’t mean I can marry you just like that.”

“Sure it does. Just like that.”

She shook her head.

He raised her chin, making her look at him.

“At the very least,” he said, “you can kiss me.”


SHE KISSED HIM.

It was like falling down a well. His arms went around her, surprising her with their strength and speed. Then everything spun, and she was on her back with Alex on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows.

His lips grazed her jawline.

“Marry me.”

Her breath caught in a gasp, and tears started in her eyes.

“I love you, Lauren. I need you. Marry me.”

“Okay.”

He rose with a start, gazing down on her with his hair hanging loose and his arms braced on either side of her and a look of startled joy in his face.

“Really?”

The tears spilled out the corners and down her temples.

“Really.”

He put his head back and let out a yell.

It was the kind of yell that might have been suitable for celebrating at a rodeo, or ringing in a new millennium, or going into battle, or celebrating victory at San Jacinto.

He yelled again.

Lauren shrieked with laughter, holding on to him. “Quiet! The neighbors are going to call the cops.”

“Neighbors? Baby, ain’t nobody here but you, me and a herd of Brahmas.”

“Well, the next county, then. People can probably hear you there.”

“I hope they do.”

He yelled a third time, louder than ever. Lauren was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Alex dropped beside her on his back, breathing heavily. “When is the baby due?”

“The fourteenth of May.”

“Awesome! That’s the same day the treaties of Velasco were signed.”

“Well, then! You’ll never forget her birthday.”

“Her birthday? It’s a girl? You know already?”

“Yes, I found out at my first appointment.”

“When was that?”

“Monday. Yesterday.”

“Whoa, is this just Tuesday? So much has happened.”

“I know.”

“All right, then. We’re having a girl. When’s our next appointment?”

He sounded so crisp and businesslike, so natural and self-assured with his “we,” that Lauren had to kiss him again.

“What was that for?”

“For being adorable.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right adjective for me.”

“Oh, it is. Believe me.”

He laced their fingers together.

“Five months,” he said. “Five months from now I’ll be a husband and a father.”

“Five months ago, could you have believed we’d be together now?”

“Heck, no. And I know you couldn’t have. Hey, does Evan know about the baby?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Let’s just say I don’t think he’s going to be beating down my door anytime soon for parental rights.”

“Good.” Then, deadly serious, he added, “I want my name on the birth certificate.”

The words warmed her through.

“I want that, too.”

Then she sighed.

“But?”

“But I’m scared. What if Evan starts getting random fatherly fits and showing up and being disruptive? I almost wish I hadn’t told him at all. But that wouldn’t be right. And even if he keeps away, what if the baby wants to meet him someday? I mean, don’t get me wrong. You will be such a better father than Evan could ever be. But still—”

“Blood is blood,” Alex interrupted. “Yeah, I get that. Well, let’s just let it be for now, and then take it year by year. As far as I’m concerned, that baby is mine. But her feelings should be respected as well, once she’s mature enough to handle the situation. At some point, if she’s curious about Evan and wants to find out about him or meet him, I won’t stand in her way. But there’s no need to clutter up her childhood with him. I mean, really, it’s not like we could keep it from her even if we tried. Sooner or later she’ll be able to do the math on our wedding date, and notice that she’s a whole lot whiter than our other kids. But as far as when to deal with that, and how, we’ll just wait and see.”

This was all so calm and sensible that Lauren immediately felt better.

Alex started to get up, but Lauren held on to him.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m just gonna put more wood on the fire. I’ll be right back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She watched him build up the fire. He was so beautiful, he made her throat ache.

“This whole camping-with-the-van scenario is not bad,” he said. “We’ve got all our stuff right here in a rain-proof storage and transportation unit. And when we’re ready, we just pack up and move somewhere else.”

“Am I hearing right? You’re praising the van life?”

He sat back on his haunches, gestured to his shirt and stared into the middle distance. “Don’t forget, I’m a van-traveling man now.”

She giggled. “That shirt is hilarious on you. You do fill it out nicely, though. A lot better than I do.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

He came back to the quilt and lay down behind her, cupping her back with his torso.

“But seriously,” he said. “Do you want to go on traveling, the two of us?”

“We’re getting married, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up traveling. Lots of married couples do it, you said. With babies, too.”

She rolled over and looked at him. “Are you saying you want to live in a van?”

“I’m saying that if you want to go on traveling, I’m game. Why not? At this point I have nothing to lose. Heck, maybe the timing is right. I’ve lost the land. I wouldn’t be giving up anything but a crappy apartment.”

“That’s not true. You’d be giving up a whole community of people who love and respect you.”

“Well, I’m willing to try it. I know it means a lot to you.”

“Thank you for that. But I honestly don’t want to go. You were right about why I came here. I did want to belong someplace, and this is a good place to belong to.”

She smoothed his hair and tucked a strand behind his ear. “One day I do want to go traveling with you. See some more of Texas together, and show you some of the places I’ve visited. But I think my days of actually living out of a van are done.”

“I don’t know what we’ll do about a place to live and a livelihood and all that, now that I have no land and no prospects.”

“We’ll be fine. We can stay in Vincent until we figure out something else. We both have jobs—lots of jobs. You said so yourself. You know engines and carpentry and ranching. La Escarpa is getting to be a lot for Tony and Dalia to manage. You can help them. I can, too. Privately owned farms and ranches are going to have to evolve to survive. We can all figure that out together.”

“Yeah,” he said. But he couldn’t keep a note of sadness out of his voice.

She traced his jawline with her fingers. “I know it’s not what you wanted. You wanted your own ranch. This ranch.”

He nodded. “Six generations this place has been in our family. Six generations. Do you know how special that is? And now it’s over. My dad’s going to sell the land. Men are going to come here with heavy equipment and knock down the house and level the ground and carve it into single-family housing tracts, and in a year’s time there’ll be nothing left to show that any Reyes ever lived or died here.”

She thought about that awhile. Then she got to her feet and held out her hand to him.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to do this date properly. You wanted to show me the land, right? Well, here we are. Show me.”

He shook his head. “When I said that, I still had hope. I wanted you to see the place and fall in love with it. I wanted you to be able to envision a future here, with me. Now it’ll just be sad, like saying goodbye.”

“It might be sad, but it’s time to say goodbye, Alex. The backhoe people will come whether you say goodbye or not. And if you don’t, you’ll regret it. Put on your boots, teniente. We’re going for a walk.”


LAUREN TOOK PICTURES at every spot Alex told a story about, and just about every spot they saw had some story connected to it.

“This is where the chickens scratched. This is where my grandmother used to feed the barn cats. She’d pour the cat food in that beat-up old pan. That’s where we would pen the cattle and give them their worming medicine. We used to have this one dog, Paco, that would play hide-and-seek with me, and he would always hide behind that bush right there. Even in the winter, when it was cut back and I could see his hound self sticking up behind the little stump, he’d huddle back there thinking he was all hidden. I’d always play along and act like I couldn’t see him. And this is the rock where Tony chipped my tooth when we were wrestling.”

As he talked, he grew visibly more relaxed. It was as if all the bitterness was washing away, leaving only the sweetness of the memories behind.

“I wish we had more time,” he said. “I wish I could show you the back pastures and the old creek bed where the fireplace stone came from. Every square foot of this place has a history. But we don’t have much daylight left.”

“Is that an old tractor over there by the yard fence?”

“Oh, yeah. I used to play on it all the time when I was a kid.”

“How come it got left out like that?”

“I don’t know. Seems like it was already broken-down before I ever came along. It’s been sitting there not running for as long as I can remember.”

“Is it valuable?”

“It might have been once, if it had been taken care of, or even moved to a barn. But it’s too far gone even for restoration now. Just a heap of rust.”

He chuckled.

“What is it?”

“Oh, just thinking. One time when me and Tony were out here for the weekend, my grandparents gave us some money for school clothes. It was just after my dad had lost big at an Oklahoma casino and we were pretty cash-poor. But my dad found out, and he took the money. And after that, whenever we got back from visiting my grandparents, he’d ask if they’d given us any money, and if they had, he’d take it. Well, I couldn’t just lie, you know. And my grandfather knew that. So he started leaving envelopes of cash in the old tractor’s exhaust pipe, under that little rain flap. That way he wasn’t giving it to me, see. I’d just found it. And when my dad asked if they’d given me any money, I could honestly tell him no.”

“Clever. Get up there. I’ll take your picture on it.”

He did. He looked incredible sitting there with his hand on the wheel and that far-seeing look in his eye.

Then he said, “Now you get on, and I’ll take your picture. You’ll look better on it than I ever did.”

She showed him how to work her camera, then climbed onto the seat and put her hands on the wheel.

After he’d taken a few shots, she said, “I’m going to take this little rain flap.”

“Take it? Where? What for?”

“For you to hold on to. It’s small and nifty-looking, and it has good memories associated with it.”

“Like you and your dad used to do? That’s not a bad idea. But will it come loose? The screws are probably rusted through.”

She tested it. “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe if we had some tools. Some screwdrivers and saw blades and things.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She kept working at it while he was gone. By the time he got back, she had the flap open and was scrabbling around inside with her fingers.

“There’s something wedged down in the exhaust pipe,” she said. “Some sort of tube.”

“The exhaust pipe is a tube.”

“Yeah, but this is something else. Here, hand me that big screwdriver.”

She stuck the screwdriver down the exhaust pipe, stuck the edge into the thing and started dragging it up. After a few tries, she managed to get a corner worked up far enough to grab and pull.

It was a rolled-up manila envelope.

She spread it flat on her lap. There were words written on the front. The ink had faded, but she could make them out.

The last will and testament of Miguel Reyes.


LAUREN SMOOTHED THE stiffly rolled packet flat on her lap and froze.

“Alex. Alex, look.”

She gave it to him. He saw the scrawled line of familiar handwriting, read it and looked back at Lauren.

“Open it,” she said.

The flap was sealed shut. He slit the envelope open and took out some folded sheets of yellow paper. His hands shook.

I, Miguel Reyes, of Limestone Springs, Texas, on this date—

“It’s dated two days before he died,” Alex said.

Lauren got down from the tractor. “What does it say?”

He kept reading, aloud this time.

“‘...am of sound mind, and am writing this holographic will with the intent of setting forth my wishes for the disposition of my estate after my death. I expressly revoke all prior wills and make them invalid and without binding legal force.’ Then there’s a description of the land. Then it says ‘I hereby leave this property—’” he took a shuddering breath “‘—to my grandsons, Antonio Ignacio Reyes and Alejandro Emilio Reyes. To my son, Carlos Antonio Reyes, I leave nothing.’” He swallowed hard. “‘I regret that it this is necessary, but his reckless behavior has given me no choice. I have determined to provide for my grandsons, and I am confident that they will respect their heritage and make me proud, as they always have.’”

He lowered the paper. He felt light-headed.

Lauren took the will from his hand. “Is this even legal?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I gotta call Claudia.”


BUT IT WAS Lauren who actually talked to Claudia. Alex was too delirious to make coherent sentences.

“Oh, yes, a handwritten will is certainly valid in Texas, as long as it’s done right,” Claudia said. “It has to be handwritten in its entirety by the decedent, and he has to say he’s of sound mind, and the probate court has to believe that he is. Then he has to demonstrate testamentary capacity, which means he understands the value of his property and the natural objects of his bounty—family members and such. He should expressly revoke any earlier wills, and set forth his property, and say whom he’s bequeathing it to. If someone’s being left out, he should say why—otherwise that person might challenge the will by saying he wasn’t of sound mind. He has to sign and date, and draft a self-proving affidavit, which makes it so he doesn’t have to have any witnesses to testify that the will is in his handwriting.”

“This has all that. The wording seems pretty legit, like he was following some sort of template or form.”

“He might have just looked it up online. It’s like Miguel to want to do it himself.”

All this time Alex was pacing around with his hands laced behind his head, breathing raggedly, like he was cooling down after a run. His eyes were glassy, and he had a stunned smile.

“She says it sounds like everything’s in order,” Lauren said after she hung up with Claudia. “She’ll check it out and take it to the judge. It’s not a slam dunk, but things look good.”

Alex put his arms around Lauren and held her tight.

“He didn’t forget me,” he said. “He took care of me and Tony, just like he said he would. He didn’t forget.”

“No. But why’d he put the will in the exhaust pipe? I mean, I get that that’s where he used to leave money for you so it’d be safe from your dad, so I guess there’s a certain poetic justice in it, but what the heck? How were you supposed to guess a thing like that?”

Alex released her and took a look around. “Let me think. He would have made the will at night, after supper and evening chores. Then he’d want to take it to town early the next day, first thing after morning chores. He hated going to town, and when he had to do it he always did it as early in the day as possible to get it out of the way. He’d have come down the path, out the front gate. And then—”

He stopped and looked at her. “My dad. My dad came to see him that morning. It was right after those thugs smashed my truck, and he wanted to borrow money to pay back the loan shark. So my grandfather would have seen my dad’s car coming down the drive. He didn’t have time to reach his own truck, and he didn’t want to be caught with an envelope in his hand that said last will and testament. So he stuck it in the exhaust pipe. Then my dad told him about the loan shark and how the thugs were coming after me now. And so my grandfather agreed to pay back the loan shark, but personally. He wasn’t going to just give the cash to my dad. So he went to the bank—loan sharks don’t take personal checks, I’m guessing—and took out the money. I’m on that account, and I remember the big withdrawal he made that day. Then he drove to wherever the loan shark had his storefront or whatever. It must have been a long drive. And by the time he got back, he had evening chores to do. And after that—after that, he made out the gift deed, giving his truck to me. And then the next morning is when I found him.”

He leaned his back against the tractor and stared off into space.

“He knew,” he said. “He knew he didn’t have much time left. He—he was doing the best he could.”

Lauren leaned next to him. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For saving my ranch. Don’t you realize that’s what you did? If I hadn’t come back here with you, I never would have found it. I never would’ve looked inside the tractor’s exhaust pipe. There was no reason to.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. But it was your doing, too, you know. We wouldn’t have been anywhere near the tractor if you hadn’t been willing to say goodbye.”

“That’s true. I was ready to let go. But I’m glad I don’t have to.”