Chapter Text
Toni’s beat up Toyota rumbled along the dirt road, giving a sigh when Toni finally pulled it into a park in front of the house. It had clunkered down hours of highway sounding like a horse with two broken legs. The gas mileage would make even the worst climate change denier bite their nails.
She looked at her hands, the scars on the knuckles familiar now, and took a deep breath before stepping out.
The house was beautifulーof course it was. One of those colonials that shone out of a fantasy movie, more of a palace than a castle, and Toni could practically see the golden retriever running around the front yard. It was precious, warm, and cavernous. The house Toni used to dream about building for herself and Martha.
She walked up the stoop onto the wraparound porch and there wasn’t a creak in the steps.
Once, Toni had snuck back into a foster home after a party, and the stairs creaked when she stepped up them. She was grounded for three months, all of summer, and was trapped in that home for another six months after that before she was moved.
The key Dennis gave her slid into the lock as easy as butter, and the door swung open.
Golden hour light gleamed through the front entrance, illuminating a deep wooded grand staircase, a living room with a massive flat screen and huge leather couches. The dining room set had been recently reupholstered, the mahogany furniture polished until it shone, and a glass cabinet revealed shelves of antique china.
Toni shrugged off her shoes and wandered.
She knew what she’d find, of course.
The living room walls were coated in taxidermy, at least half were hunted by the previous owner himself, and were probably worth something.
- Get an estimate on buck heads.
The china would be easier to sort through. Most of it was probably worthless, with the likely chips and wear and tear, but she could pack it up and shove it in some storage locker or something.
- Maybe find someone on Ebay who needed a complete set.
The furniture would likely go for something.
Then, of course,
- Sell the damn properties.
Who the fuck needed a ranch, a mansion, a beach house, and a mountain house?
Toni grew up in foster care.
The envelope was where Dennis said it would be, left on the desk in the study for Toni to find, pressed clean and unopened. Her name was written on it in cursive. It was odd—seeing her own name in cursive—unnerving.
His study was gross too: all dark panels and dusty bookshelves, antique bibles and encyclopedia collections. Some were even signed.
- Get an estimate on the bibles and encyclopedias
- Find out if some museum wanted them for free
- Preferably one of the less bad ones that didn’t steal from people?
The letter had a wax sealーwhat the fuck.
Toni,
When I first laid eyes upon you I knew—
Who gave a shit.
My biggest regret was that I couldn’t—
Boring, tired, overdone.
I have just one request. Our land, this ranch, your home, has been in the family for generations, please Toni, please. As your father, I’m begging you, keep it that way. It’s the only thing I ask, the only thing I’ve ever asked, will ever ask. Take care of her.
Yours, always,
Stephen Gilroy
Toni snorted. Always? Always, when she was bouncing around from house to house? Always when she was driving her mother to the hospital after an overdose? Always when she was homeless for three weeks and living in the woods?
Always, when Dennis told Toni that Stephen changed the will to include Toni only recently?
Of all the manipulative, stupid fucking lies, this had to make the top ten. The worst part? He was too dead for her to scream at.
She crumpled it up and shoved it off the desk, taking a seat on the long, straight backed chair.
Wasn’t this a thing for daughters? Sitting on their father’s office chair feeling like a grown up for the first time? That had to be a thing.
God, what a fucking asshole. She grew up in foster care. She should give everything away, just to fuck with him.
“Keep it in the family” was probably the funniest part of the letter. Like Toni was part of the family. Like she even knew she had a family to be part of until he died.
She sighed, looking around the desk. Speaking of the family, there they were. Toni recognized his late wife, Linda, from some of the pictures at the memorial. She had passed away about twenty years ago now. And there was Stephen of course, with his arm around her. Sharon, his ex-wife who Toni had seen at the memorial, wasn't given a place on the wood. The break had been amicable as far as Toni was concerned. Sharon delivered a lovely eulogy.
She leaned forward and furrowed her brow. And there was a girl who looked like a teenager. Wait a second, did Toni have a sister? Was she eighteen? What did she get if Toni had the ranch and his savings?
Calling Dennis…
“Ms. Shalifoe,” Dennis’s southern drawl came through loud and clear. “Everything alright? You find the place okay?”
“Who the hell is this girl on Stephen’s desk?” Toni rushed out.
“I can’t say I’m familiar with—”
“Teenager, dark hair, blue eyes,” Toni said. “She’s holding a bowling ball.”
“Well, that’d be Becca,” Dennis said. Toni’s breath caught. “She’s your half-sister, but I’m afraid she passed away when she was sixteen, almost ten years ago now.”
“What?” Toni asked. Becca would’ve been about her age, then. “How? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“I guess it didn’t cross my mind that you wouldn’t know. I’m sorry, Ms. Shalifoe.”
“Yeah, fuck you,” Toni shot back. It was probably the eighth time she had cursed the guy out in their three days of knowing each other, but it was certainly the most deserved. “How’d she die?”
“She took her own life,” Dennis said. “Listen, why don’t you come on over, my wife is making a casserole, we could use the help to eat it all. We can talk it over, I’ll tell you everything I knew about her.”
“No thanks,” Toni bit out. She took a breath. “I have too much to do around here. Can we talk another time?”
“Of course,” Dennis said. “Just shoot me an email and we can chat whenever you’d like.” It was as close as he’d ever get to saying, ‘Don’t call me out of the blue again.’
“Thanks Dennis,” Toni rubbed her eyes. “Enjoy your casserole.”
“Alright then,” he said. “I’m gonna let you go. Have a good evening.”
Toni sighed when she put the phone down.
- There was the guitar collection she’d need appraised. Somewhere in the basement.
- Would the animals on the ranch need to be sold separately, or would someone buy the ranch with the animals?
She should be writing this down, the notes app or something. Was this desk mahogany too?
Dinner was a power bar she had in her glove box and with no cleaning up to do, she went to bed at eight. It took her thirty minutes to find the linen closet—there were so many closets in the goddamn house, and so many empty rooms. The blanket was one of those too-soft and too-big ones they sold at Walmart and Toni had to sleep in her day clothes, staring at the impossibly tall ceilings her grandfather had built before she was born. Keep it in the family, Stephen had begged her.
Yeah, fuck that. What family.
The birds woke her up, and the sun streaming through the curtains she forgot to close, and when she glared at her phone it was only six-thirty.
No new messages
She hopped in a random shower, washing her clothes while she did, and took great pleasure in being able to walk around in just a towel. She felt like a squatter, or a ghost.
By 7:30 Rachel would be up, and Nora too. Fatin wouldn’t be up until eleven but Martha liked to get up early on Tuesdays, get a run in before her long-ass commute. Toni almost called her, just out of habit, before her hands remembered what they did and put her phone back in her pocket. She needed coffee, and a more concrete to-do list.
How to sell a home?
According to Zillow she'd need it appraised too, Jesus fuck. What was the point of being one of the richest people in Texas if she couldn’t use it to not do tasks she didn't even know how to start?
She should drive around, at least figure out what she was working with. Not the whole thing, the ranch was too big for that, but maybe just the choice bits? What are the choice bits in a ranch?
What the fuck even is a ranch? How is it different from a farm?
Some googling led her to believe the difference was probably animals. Fatin would’ve known how to sell the properties, or she could’ve gotten her mom to.
“Divorce perks,” Fatin would’ve said with a smirk. “I’ll be nursing that till I’m eighty.”
Toni sighed and prepared herself for the shit day she was about to have.
Dennis at least told her she’d be best off getting in touch with Shelby Goodkind. She was, apparently, running things in Stephen’s absence. Dennis hadn’t said the word death, which had almost made Toni crack up then and there in office. Like Dennis was being delicate with her. He’d be the first.
But Toni would start with her, see if she could get some tour or something, and then figure it out from there. Maybe Shelby would even know.
She got into her car and drove to where she passed the barn the night before, surprised there were already cars in the lot—most of them nicer than hers. She was all for socialism, and nothing being too good for the working class, but she was richer than the working class now and wanted a better car than them.
The grass was still dew-wet and Toni’s shoes were a crappy pair of knock-off Adidas she’d had for two years.
- Buy new running shoes
“Who are you?”
Toni looked around, finally looking down at some snot-nosed kid.
“Who are you?” She asked back.
The kid screwed up its face. “Cooper.”
“Is that a name or a job from the sixteenth century?” Toni asked.
Cooper kept its face screwed up. “What’s the sixteenth century?”
“Dinos,” Toni said.
This time its face lit up. “I love dinosaurs!”
“Coop!” A woman with dark hair called from the barn. “Who ya talking to?”
“Some lady!” Cooper responded.
The woman came over, eyes squinting in the Texas sun, “Hi there, I’m Christa. Sorry about my kid, he’ll talk your ear off.”
“Its fine,” Toni said. “I’m looking for Shelby Goodkind?”
“She’s inside,” Christa nodded at the barn. “Are you one of the seasonal hires?”
“Nope,” Toni said. She walked past her towards the barn. As she got closer she heard a young woman handing out orders and, peering inside, a group of people stood around a leggy young blonde woman. Stephen must’ve kept her around for the eye-candy. Fucking creep.
“Thom, Alex, I need you two doing fence repairs on our northwest fields, alright? We’re gonna open it up to grazing soon and we can’t have any runaway cattle. Speaking of cattle, Henrietta’s foot is acting up again. Dot, can you take another look?”
“Yup.”
“Great, alright, we got that rodeo coming up in two weeks, so I want—where the heck is Christa?”
“Here! Sorry, Cooper got away from me,” Christa called from behind Toni. “And this woman says she wants to talk to you.”
Shelby Goodkind smiled a wide bright toothed smile at Toni, “Howdy there, I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
Toni nodded at her, flicking out her phone as the blonde continued assignments. There was at least service out here. Stephen was only stuck in the dark ages politically.
“Christa, I need a look at the bank statements from last quarter. I’m finalizing the budget for this rodeo.”
“Uh, is anyone gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Someone asked. Toni kept flicking through her phone.
“Dottie…”
“Have you gotten a response from Dennis or what?”
Toni tried not to perk up, scrolling through her social media that was drier than Arizona in July.
“We can talk about this later,” Shelby said. “Now off ya’ll go. Christa get me those statements by end of day alright?”
“You got it, Shelbs,” Christa said and headed back out to wherever she had abandoned the kid.
Toni put her phone in her pocket and tried to square her shoulders as Shelby approached her.
“Shelby Goodkind,” Shelby held out her hand, “Pleasure.”
“Toni Shalifoe.”
“I’m sorry about all that,” Shelby gestured behind her where she’d just been handing out work orders. “We have a way of starting our mornin’s. Early bird and all that. What can I do ya for, Ms. Shalifoe?”
Toni rooted in her pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper Dennis had given her the day before. Showing off Stephen’s signature, and her own below it, dated weeks apart. Shelby’s eyes widened, staring at the notarized seal.
“I was hoping you would help give me a look around,” Toni said. “So I know what to tell the real estate agents or appraisers or whoever.”
Shelby gaped at the seal, at Toni and then glanced around the mostly empty barn, “Why don’t we go talk in my office?”
Toni shrugged and followed her through the barn to a room off to the side. Shelby’s office was small, cramped, with papers haphazardly strewn over the desk. It reeked of privilege to Toni, who’d never had the choice to mishandle her things, lest they be destroyed or taken from her.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Shelby said. “It’s a busy season for us.”
“Sure,” Toni agreed.
Shelby moved a stack of files off of what was eventually revealed to be a desk chair for Toni and took a seat across from her, still holding onto Toni’s deed.
They stared at each other for a moment before Shelby shook her head and sighed, “I’m sorry I just—it’s been a long couple weeks.” Her voice choked up and Toni stiffened, staring at the woman in front of her who seemed to be on the verge of tears. “Stephen was like a father to me, you know.”
“Cool,” Toni looked out the one grimy window in the office. She wondered if Shelby knew about Stephen’s mahogany.
“I just—you two must’ve been close. For him to leave you the ranch.”
“He knew my mom,” Toni said. “Listen. I should probably get a copy of whatever those bank statements Christa was making up for you or whatever. I’ll probably have you look at whatever the appraiser says too. You’ve worked here awhile right?”
“You’re—you’re selling?” Shelby asked. “After everything? You’re selling?”
“After what?” Toni asked. “I don’t want this place.”
“What about what Stephen wants?” Shelby asked.
“Stephen doesn’t want anything,” Toni said. “That’s the whole point.”
“Well don’t you think that’s just a little insensitive?” Shelby asked. “That you have a responsibility to honor his memory?”
“No,” Toni said. “Dennis said you could give me the lay of the land, are you gonna do that or should I ask Miller?”
“Miller?”
“Blacksmith, whatever the kid’s name is.”
“You mean Cooper?” Shelby asked.
“Yeah, Cobbler, that’s what I said.” Toni crossed her arms. “Am I gonna have to ask Cobbler?”
“I’ll give you a tour,” Shelby said.
They took an ATV through the grazing fields which Toni had never ridden before, and never wanted to again. Shelby went on about growing seasons, cow statistics, and how much they make from the pigs on average. Toni took notes as best she could but it was clear a lot was going over her head. Shelby seemed smug about it too, which pissed Toni off.
“It’s been in the family for four generations,” Shelby said. “I know he was planning on passing it along to his daughter.”
Toni tensed, waiting for the accusation. To be fair, she hadn’t lied. Stephen and her mother had known each other once upon a time.
“I think Becca woulda done this place proud,” Shelby continued.
Toni relaxed. “Did you know her?”
“Not well,” Shelby said. “We were close when we were kids. She went to private school though.”
And then, because Toni couldn’t help herself, “What was she like?”
Shelby looked over at her, and back at the fields. “Well, I didn’t know her real well but she was—she was fun when we were kids. Great at bowling.”
Toni swallowed hard, remembering the picture.
“Dennis told me—that’s Stephen’s executor—he said she had—she took her own life?”
“That’s what I heard,” Shelby nodded. “The world is a hard place for teenage girls.”
“Yeah,” Toni said. She watched Shelby, watched her careful eyes on the road, the subtle clenching of her jaw, the readjustment of her hands on the wheel.
Shelby wasn’t being honest with her. Toni couldn’t tell about what, but knew there was something Shelby was leaving out. And that was fine. It just meant Toni didn’t have to be honest either.
They finished off the tour with a couple of introductions to various employees. Alex and Thom did a lot of manual labor, mending fences, repairing leaks, hauling manure and the like. Thom didn’t seem like the type, but he was methodical about it and never said no to Shelby which explained most of it.
Dot did a lot more of the hands on work with the animals, keeping an eye on the cows, the pigs, the sheep and the alpacas. She was a big animal vet, Toni learned, which inflated her salary.
Christa worked in the office with Shelby, keeping an eye on Town-crier and working mostly on the upcoming rodeo.
“What does that mean?” Toni asked, back in Shelby’s office. “Working on it?”
“Well, we might want to buy some sperm, get a couple new calves around here,” Shelby said. “Quite a bit of preparation goes into it. Financially speaking.”
“You don’t have to worry about it this time, then,” Toni said. “Don’t spend any money there. Like I said—I’m selling.”
“No you aren’t,” Shelby said.
Toni clenched her fists, “Excuse me?”
“You aren’t selling,” Shelby continued, her tone calm. She was sorting through the files on her desk, ignoring Toni even as Toni stood right in front of her.
“Like hell I’m not,” Toni said. “It’s my property.”
“Ms. Shalifoe,” Shelby said. “You seem very smart, but you’re also new in town, so let me paint you a picture.”
She looked up, folding her hands on her desk.
“A beloved member of the community dies suddenly, someone holding up half the local economy and never missing a Sunday service, and his will has been recently edited to leave out any of his remaining family. Instead it goes to you, some—excuse my language—northerner no one has met or heard of before. And the first thing you want to do is liquidate the assets his family spent generations building.”
Toni blinked, and Shelby’s eyes were steely.
“Are you accusing me of murder?” Toni asked. She couldn’t even bring herself to be angry, she was too impressed with the audacity.
“Of course not,” Shelby said. “But this is a small town, people are close, and what was your relation to Stephen? Your mom knew him? People are gonna talk, the people at the rodeos are gonna talk, and no one is gonna buy.”
“Yeah this is Texas,” Toni said. “This place is probably sitting on millions worth of oil. Or wind, even. Exxon will buy if no one else will.”
“You’ll sell to Exxon?” Shelby asked.
Toni grit her teeth. “Yes. Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You won’t sell to Exxon,” Shelby said. She nodded to herself. “So I’ll keep this place going, as I have for the last couple years, and you can run along back to California. I’ll send you a cheque every month with the earnings.”
“You’ve think you’ve got it all figured out,” Toni said. “What, you look at my plates?” Shelby shrugged.
“The Texas ones are rather plain. Yours stick out.”
She said it all nonchalantly but Toni remembered the woman this morning, panicking at first glance at the deed.
“All it took was a loop around the ranch huh?” Toni asked. “And you know everything.”
“I know this land. I was born on it.”
“You’re overestimating your own community,” Toni told her. “Or fuck, underestimating the market. You know how many ‘northerners’ would kill for a plot of land in the south to vacation in once every three years?”
“You’d make more money keeping it than selling it to them,” Shelby said.
“Who gives a shit? I just don’t want the responsibility.” Toni got up, putting a hand on the doorknob, “That should convince you I didn’t kill the asshole too.”
Shelby didn’t have any parting words and Toni’s car clunkered back to the house.
- Get a new car.