“He stole it,” I said, hoping me talking would provoke him again. Keep him off-balance. “Stole it from hard-working people who just wanted to make good lives for themselves.”
Clancy made a sound that made me want to punch him. Well, more than I already wanted to hit him. “Stole it? Matthew merely took spoils of war. It was the way of the world back then, and it’s still the way of the world for the most part.”
“Zachariah and Ester Adams were every bit as American after the war as Calvert,” I pointed out. “Wouldn’t that land have been as much a spoil of war for them as for him?”
“Every bit as American? Come now, girl. Not even a Yankee like you could be that naïve.”
“Why wouldn’t they have been? I mean, wasn’t that the whole point of the war? Freedom from the whole kings and nobility shit? Equality?” How was he not seeing that I was baiting him?
He shook his head. “Of course, my family has always believed in equality for all, but back then, before the War Between the States, there was only so much God-fearing white folk could do.”
“But there were free people of color, even back then,” I pointed out. “And the Adamses were free. They owned that land, and your people took it from them.”
Clancy gave me one of those small, condescending smiles that always made me want to hurt someone. “Don’t you know that history is more about who does the tellin’ than the facts?”
“Except we have proof of the facts,” Bradyn said.
“What do you have?” Clancy narrowed his eyes at his son. “Some old papers with writin’ that’s barely readable? Letters?”
Bradyn’s expression didn’t change, and I hoped mine didn’t either. We hadn’t mentioned what our evidence was. It wasn’t a full confession, but it was something.
“Now, why don’t the two of you stop worryin’ about things that happened in the past and worry about your futures. Ya’ll need to stop diggin’ in stuff that don’t concern you.”
I wasn’t a cop or a psychologist, but his accent getting thicker by the second made me think he was a lot more emotional than he was letting on.
“Why don’t you let Nyx and I decide what’s worth lookin’ into.”
“Ya’ll both listen to me now, even if you never did before.” Clancy’s face hardened. “It’d be best for you to go back home, missy. Stickin’ your nose in our business, likely it’ll get bit off. And you, boy, it ain’t gonna matter that we’re blood.”
Bradyn stared at his father, and I knew he’d just lost the last little bit of hope he’d had of his father’s innocence. Instead of making him say the last thing we’d agreed to tell Clancy before we left, I stepped up to do it myself.
“Look, I don’t give a shit who you are, but I do give a shit about your son and your grandkids. Do the right thing and come forward with all of this. We’re giving you forty-eight hours to get with your lawyers and figure out how you want to make things right.”
Clancy glared at me. “I don’t have to put up with this shit from you. Get the hell outta my house.”
“We’re going.” Bradyn’s voice was tight but controlled. He took my hand, and we headed for the door.
Before I stepped out of the study, I turned around to offer one last comment. “By the way, I’m not a religious person, but I think God might have a thing or two to say about you using His name the way you do.”
I had a moment’s pleasure at seeing Clancy’s jaw drop, and then Bradyn and I were hurrying down the hall toward the front door. I really hoped Clancy did the right thing because, if he didn’t, this was going to get even uglier, and that wasn’t something I wanted to see.
Thirty-Two
Bradyn
Nyx followed me into my cabin without either of us talking about it. The entire ride back to the ranch had been silent, and I didn’t know if it was because Nyx was trying to give me space or because she needed to think. Either way, I was grateful for her being there. I wasn’t ready to be alone yet.
Everything had gone the way I’d thought it would, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Even him disinheriting me hadn’t hurt as much as this. Maybe it was because I’d always been used to him trying to control me with money. Maybe it was because I