I let out a gruff laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. He left my brother and me to fend for ourselves as teenagers with no parents and a huge ranch to take care of.”

“Well, your father left everything to you with the exception of a small part of his estate to his granddaughter, Kate. He also—”

“Wait—he knew about Kate?” I asked as I took a quick peek over toward Whitley.

“Um, yes. He also knew about Miss Reynolds, and he asked for a handwritten letter to be personally delivered to her also. So, with you being here, it has helped me out, Miss Reynolds.”

Whitley tried to give him a smile, but I saw her hands were shaking.

She looked over at me and asked, “How did he know?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “How did my father know about Whitley? I mean, I guess I could understand maybe someone telling him about Kate. But Whitley?”

Mr. Mitchel took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Mr. Morris, your father was in constant contact with your foreman—a, um…Mr. Mitch Black. Mr. Morris would call him a few times a year to see how things were going on the ranch.”

All the air in my lungs felt like it had been sucked out. I sat back in my chair and shook my head. “That motherfucker was in contact with my father and never once told me about it?”

“Well, I’m not sure what their relationship was or why Mr. Black didn’t share this information with you, but yes, he had been in contact with your father over the last several years.”

Why in the hell would Mitch keep this from me?

“So, what is my father’s estate? I doubt he had any debt. He was always a fairly simple man,” I said.

Mr. Mitchel let out a small laugh. “Mr. Morris, your father’s estate is worth just over six million dollars. One million of that goes to Kate.”

I dropped the glass of sweet tea that I was bringing up to my mouth as Whitley and I both said, “What?”

Whitley jumped up and started to clean up the spilled tea and broken glass. After she sat back down, I looked at Mr. Mitchel and shook my head.

“How? I mean, I knew my father was always well-off, but I just figured he made enough to do okay since he still sent the yearly taxes on the ranch even though he had signed it over to us long ago.”

“Your father was a smart businessman. Most of his earnings were from stocks, investments, and racehorses. You’re also now the owner of six racehorses. Two of which are highly talked about as Derby contenders for next year.”

I sat up and just stared at him. “What are their names?”

Mr. Mitchel smiled. “Sunset Sky, Fast as a Bullet, Kate’s Date, Lay it Low, Mike’s Lucky Star, and Sweet Baby.”

I felt tears building in my eyes. I’d heard of every single one of these horses, but I had never dreamed they were my father’s. All were named after each of us. He must have used a different name as the owner.

“I can’t believe it,” I whispered.

Whitley took my hand in hers. “Layton? Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “He named them after us.”

Whitley looked confused. “What do you mean?”

I looked down at her and smiled. “Sunset Sky was the name my mother wanted to call the ranch. When he saw a horse he thought was a winner, he’d say, ‘That damn horse is fast as a bullet.’ Kate’s Date—well, that has to be for Kate. Lay It Low is what my father used to say when I got in trouble with my mother. He would tell me to lay it low until she cooled down.”

Whitley smiled. “Mike’s Lucky Star.”

I smiled and nodded. “For Mike.”

“What about Sweet Baby?” Mr. Mitchel asked.

I looked up at him and fought like hell to hold back the tears. “He called my mother Sweet Baby. I can see him now, walking up behind her as she cut up vegetables. He’d ask her, ‘How was your day, sweet baby?’ I can actually hear him saying it to her.”

My heart was breaking all over again.

Why did he leave us? Dad…why did you leave us?

Mr. Mitchel stood and opened his briefcase. He pulled out a folder and three envelopes. One had my name on it, one was for Whitley, and one was for Kate.

“Mr. Morris, you’ll want your lawyers to take a look at all of this. Your father was a major stockholder in an investment firm. All of that will be transferred to you. I’m guessing they will probably request for you to attend the next stockholder’s meeting.”

I rolled my eyes as Whitley let out a small laugh.

Motherfucker, not another investment firm. Why the fuck did my brother and father get involved with these companies?

“Where’s the firm located?”

“New York City.”

I saw Whitley suck in a breath of air. I was pretty damn sure we were praying to God it wasn’t Roger’s dad’s company.

“Miller and Pike Investments,” Mr. Mitchel said.

Whitley and I both let out the breath we had been holding. I glanced over to her, and she gave me a small smile.

“Do you have any other questions for me, Mr. Morris, before I head back to Chicago?”

I snapped my head over toward him. “Chicago?”

“Yes. That’s where your father was living when he passed away.”

“I see. Um…may I ask how he died?”

“Oh, yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t normally take care of estates like this. Please forgive me. Your father had lung cancer. He battled it for a few years, but…” Mr. Mitchel looked down and away.

“Thank you so much for making the trip out here. Let me walk you out,” I said. I leaned down and kissed Whitley on top of the head.

As I walked Mr. Mitchel out to his rental car and said good-bye, I noticed Mitch driving by, heading to the barn.

“Layton, don’t go talk to him right now. You’re upset, and now is not the time to do this.” Whitley placed her hand on my arm.

Fuck! This was supposed to be the best day of my life, and it’s turning out to be one of the worst.

“Will you go for a ride with me?” I smiled down at my beautiful girl.

She gave me that smile of hers that I loved so much as she winked and said, “I’d love to go for a ride with you.”

Whitley had been talking nonstop since we got into the truck. I knew she was trying to keep my mind off of just finding out that my father had passed away—and the fact that he’d left me with five million dollars, six racehorses, and God knows what else was in all that paperwork.

And in the letter.

I wasn’t sure I would ever read that letter.

As we got closer to the area I had set up earlier, my heart started pounding. I pulled up and parked. I looked over at Whitley and smiled. “You ready?”

“Ah…I guess so. Ready for what though?” she asked with a laugh.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” I jumped out of the truck as easily as I could. I was still in a lot of pain, but I was trying like hell to hide it from Whitley.

I walked over and opened her door. She jumped out of the truck and looked around.

As we started walking toward where I had everything set up, she grabbed my arm.

“Layton, are we going to the old house?”

I smiled as I pulled her closer to me and crushed my lips to hers. When I pulled back, she still had her eyes closed.

“I miss being with you, Layton. I miss feeling you inside me.” She opened her eyes and smiled.

I grabbed her hand, and we made our way down the path that had been worn by the workers.

“Have you been coming here, Layton? I don’t remember such a worn path.”

As we came around the bend, Whitley dropped my hand and stopped as she let out a gasp. “Oh my God, where’s the house?”

I stared straight ahead and smiled. “I had it torn down. It was time for me to leave the past in the past. All that house did was remind me of a time in my life when I was angry and hurt. I’ve moved on, thanks to you. I’ve forgiven my father, and I’m ready to start a whole new life.”

I turned to see Whitley crying as she looked up at me.

“Layton…” was all she said.

I smiled as I leaned down and gently rubbed my nose against hers. “I want to show you something else.”

She smiled as she took my hand, and we moved closer to where the house that my father had built for my mother once stood—the same house that had held too many memories of my mother for him to be able to stay with us, the house that had caused him so much pain he had to run and never look back.

As we got closer, the gazebo came into sight. The spot my father and mother had picked to build their house on was probably one of the best views on the whole ranch. It looked out over the hill country and just about had a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. I had the gazebo built to face the west and east.

“Oh, Layton, it’s absolutely stunning. I’ve never seen such an amazing gazebo.”

I had overheard Whitley and Courtney talking about a book where the characters got married in a white gazebo overlooking the west. They got married right before sunset, and Whitley had mentioned how romantic it was.

I smiled at the gazebo I had built. It was a classic octagonal gazebo made from cedar.

“Good Lord, that thing is huge. Oh my, Layton! The flowers…they’re all my favorite flowers. The roses…they smell heavenly.”

I smiled as I looked at all the landscaping that had just been finished yesterday. Whitley turned and looked at me as we walked up toward the gazebo.

As she moved up the steps, she threw her hands up to her mouth. Both sides of the gazebo had seating areas. The front and back were open to the east and the west, and we could see perfectly out west.

“I had them clear out a few trees, so you can see the sunset even more now.”

I had placed a blanket, a basket, and a cooler right in the middle of the gazebo. I had packed wine, fruit, and cheese.

“Layton, when did you do all of this?” Whitley asked as she looked back at me.

“This morning. Do you know how hard it was to pack up that basket? I practically killed myself, trying to pack it and put it into the truck before you got out of the shower.”

Whitley laughed as she shook her head. She sat down and moved her hand along the blanket. “This blanket looks so old. Where in the world did you get it?”

I walked up and slowly sat down on the blanket.

“Are you hurting, babe?” she asked as she reached over for my hand.

Even though I was, I smiled. “Nah, I’m all right. Just still moving a bit slow is all.”

She raised her eyebrow at me, like she knew I was lying.

“This was my grandmother’s blanket. It’s a very special blanket that my mother used to wrap Mike and me up in as we watched movies with her and my father on the sofa. She always used it when we went on picnics, which was all the time. She loved picnics.” I smiled, thinking about how many times I’d watched her take the blanket out and lay it on the ground for all of us to sit on.

Whitley’s face lit up, and she grinned bigger. “I wish I could have met her.”

I put my hand on her cheek and moved my thumb up and down on her soft skin. “So do I, baby. So do I.”