LITMIR.BIZ

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on their best behavior. The etiquette for a prayer vigil loomed over by the specter of an absent and bigamous wife, not to mention a possible dead mistress, had to be considered a challenge, even for people who’d known each other for a long time and liked each other pretty well.

      For the most part, the men considered their duty had been done when they turned up and listened to Pastor Gruber’s sermon without a single one of them bursting into guffaws of laughter. The women, however, felt obligated to do something more than merely keep straight faces while listening to the pastor’s farcical eulogy. They’d risen to the occasion by preparing a quantity of casseroles, cookies and Jell-O salads that ensured the caloric requirements of everyone in Stark County could be met for several days simply by grazing the laden buffet tables in the church meeting room.

      Unfortunately, the bountiful array of food didn’t quite obviate the need to find something tactful to say to Ellie and her kids, but the residents of Stark County were a resilient lot, accustomed to dealing with drought, blizzards, insect plagues and the intrusive hand of the federal government. Determined to do what was right, they formed themselves into a tidy line and slowly wound their way past Ellie, Liam and Megan, mumbling their somewhat sincere wishes for Ron’s safe return—they figured it was just possible she was going to miss the bastard—and their much more sincere offerings of any sort of help they might be able to provide.

      Ellie looked ravaged, showing every one of her fifty-five years, but she accepted the good wishes and thanked people for their offers of help with quiet dignity. Liam, tall and even better looking than his dead father, stood at his mother’s side, his city-slicker suit and fancy striped silk tie reminding everyone that he had at least three strikes against him. First, he’d moved away and taken up residence in a big city. Second, he was a lawyer, and third, he hadn’t come back to Thatch more than a handful of times in the past five years. However, his excellent memory for names and faces reassured people that he hadn’t totally forgotten his roots. Despite the fact that he looked a lot like his dad, the neighbors were willing to grant him the benefit of the doubt and accept that in character and morals he took after his mother.

      After half an hour of listening to her neighbors’ well-intentioned lies, Megan realized that she wasn’t coping with the multiple hypocrisies of the occasion anywhere near as efficiently as her brother. She wished she could imitate Liam’s expression of bland and friendly courtesy, but the task was beyond her. The urge to scream became increasingly powerful with each hand she shook. Grateful as she was for the support of their neighbors, she could imagine all too vividly the pity lurking behind the polite, Sunday-go-to-church faces. She hated to be pitied—but she hated even more that she felt pitiable. As each excruciating minute slithered by, it took an increasing amount of willpower not to run from the room.

      She finally gave up. “I have to get a drink,” she murmured to Liam. “Would you like some punch? A cup of coffee?”

      He shook his head, leaning down to speak softly in her ear. “You okay?”

      “More or less. I need some breathing room. Can you stay here with Mom for a few minutes?”

      “Not a problem. Take however much time you need.”

      Megan helped herself to the alarmingly bright red punch, dry-mouthed enough to sip gratefully. Pastor Gruber was bearing down on her, accompanied by his wife, and she avoided them by dodging behind a mobile book cart. She was thankful for the lies of omission in the minister’s sermon, but she couldn’t take any more pretense. She’d zoomed past her cutoff level for bullshit concerning Ron Raven at least twenty-four hours ago.

      There was no escaping outside, she realized. The camera crews were lined up, waiting to pounce, so she’d just have to suck it up and be polite to her neighbors for another hour. Please God, it wouldn’t be more than another hour before this preposterous prayer service was over. What would any of them do if her father actually returned? she wondered. Turn him over to the cops?

      She spotted Cody Holmann, the lawyer her parents had used for years, walking purposefully toward her. Cody was probably as restful a person to talk to as anyone, she decided. He was a slow-moving but kindly man in his mid-sixties, who was still known in some local circles as Young Cody in order to distinguish him from his ninety-two-year-old father, Cody Holmann Senior.

      There was no risk that he would want to discuss legal business with her, Megan decided. Liam had already met with Cody on Friday afternoon and the news from their meeting had been mostly positive. Ellie’s financial and legal situation was complicated by the fact that Ron Raven hadn’t yet been officially declared dead. However, Cody was confident he would be able to find a judge willing to authorize payments from Ron’s accounts to cover living expenses for Ellie and salaries for the two full-time ranch employees. In addition, Cody had been able to confirm that the copy of their father’s will in Ellie’s possession was an exact duplicate of the document he had drawn up for Ron three years earlier.

      Amazingly, after all the startling revelations following their father’s death, it seemed that the disposition of Ron’s estate was going to generate few surprises. The provisions of their father’s will turned out to be more or less what Megan and Liam would have expected. Most importantly, the ranch had been left to their mother, along with an annual income that would be sufficient to subsidize the cattle operation in bad years.

      Despite the basically good news, the clarity of the will didn’t remove all their worries. The family in Chicago wasn’t mentioned and Cody warned that Avery Fairfax and her daughter would most likely protest their exclusion. Liam agreed that a lawsuit was almost inevitable. In their professional opinions, even if the courts dismissed Avery’s claims, they were likely to view Kate’s situation sympathetically. She had been raised to believe she was Ron Raven’s legitimate daughter, as well as his only child, and she was an innocent victim of her father’s bigamy. Cody believed that a substantial award to Kate was entirely possible. Still, Liam and Cody were both confident that Ellie would eventually be left in sole possession of the ranch, and that the courts would ensure she had sufficient income to continue living comfortably while any legal challenges wound their way through the justice system.

      Megan had been relieved to learn that, at least in terms of making financial provision, her father had behaved decently toward their mother. Ron’s total silence regarding his Chicago family ought to have been welcome, but Megan had found herself fighting the impulse to feel sorry for them. She wasn’t quite willing to admit that Ron’s other wife and daughter deserved better treatment than they’d received, but she’d worked out in her own mind that if the fancy Chicago penthouse where they lived turned out to be titled in Avery’s name, she wouldn’t be altogether unhappy.

      “Megan, how are you doing?” Cody reached up to touch a couple of fingers to the brim of his Stetson, then remembered he wasn’t wearing what amounted to the uniform headgear for men in Stark County. He let his hand drop awkwardly to his side. “We don’t get all the neighbors together like this nearly often enough. I’m sorry today’s gathering was for such a sad occasion.”

      “Yes. The neighbors have been great. We’re grateful for their kindness.” Megan searched for something more to say and came up flat empty.

      Cody abandoned his fleeting attempt to pretend the circumstances were normal. “Discovering the truth about your dad has been a hell of a shock to me,” he said. “Can’t begin to imagine how much of a shock it’s been for you and your family.”

      Megan wasn’t sure they had discovered the truth about her father. She had a depressing suspicion they’d merely lifted off the outer layer on a Chinese box of multiple deceptions.

      “We’re coping with a lot of unanswered questions, that’s for sure,” she said. “There are dozens of decisions Mom needs to make, but it isn’t easy when we seem to be missing so much vital information.”

      “Wish I didn’t have to add to your troubles.” The lawyer scratched his head, visibly uncomfortable. “I guess there’s no point in beating around the bush, Megan. I’ve got another problem to add to your list.”

      “The Chicago family is fighting the will already?” She drew in a quick, shallow breath. “They

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