Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,78
while I robotically explained the operations of the ranch to Jonathan Wade.
Funny. Larry looked a lot like him except for the receding hairline. Jonathan still had a full head of hair while Larry’s hairline was already moving backward. I read somewhere that male pattern baldness was passed down through the mother on the X chromosome. I knew nothing about Larry’s mom. He’d grown up with her in Grand Junction, and she kept to herself. I wasn’t sure any of the Future Lawmakers had ever met her.
Daphne favored her mother. Lucy Wade was a lovely older version of her daughter, with shorter hair and some crinkles around her eyes. Daphne would retain her beauty as she aged. Lucy was proof of that. Not that it mattered. Daphne was my destiny no matter what.
Lucy and Daphne stood and went to the kitchen, presumably to get dinner on the table.
“You’re the sole heir, then?” Jonathan said.
“Yeah. My mother couldn’t have any more kids after me.”
“That’s something. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it was hard on her.”
“I’m sure it was. I guess it’ll all be yours then. You think you can run the place like your dad?”
“Better, to be honest. My father’s not a businessman. He’s a great rancher, and he’s made millions. My goal is to take it into billions.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Billions raising beef. That would be something.”
“Not just beef. We have a huge functioning orchard, and our vineyards have just begun to produce. We’ll begin selling wine before long.”
“You know anything about wine?”
“I took an oenology class last year, but I still have a lot to learn. I’m looking forward to it, though.”
“That’s a lot of cash to get a winery up and running.”
“True, but I’ll make it work. Plus, my father has outside investments in stocks, precious metals, and foreign currency that have done really well. And I’m determined. Especially now.”
“Why especially now?”
Shit. I hadn’t meant to say that. “I’m nearly done with college, and I’ll be working the ranch full-time soon. I’m determined to do the best I can and make the ranch better than ever.”
Would he buy that?
He nodded.
Good. He seemed to.
Lucy walked back into the living room. “Dinner’s on the table.”
Jonathan and I both stood, and I followed him into the dining room. Four places were set.
“You sit here, Brad.” Lucy indicated a chair across from Daphne.
“Thank you.”
Jonathan said a quick word of thanks, and then we filled our plates.
Daphne covered her spaghetti with the red sauce but declined the platter of meatballs.
“Honey?” her mother said. “No meatballs? They’re your favorite.”
“I…uh…I’m not eating much meat anymore.”
“Why not?”
“I want to make sure the meat I consume is humanely raised.”
Jonathan let out a chuckle. “Sounds like college drivel.”
Daphne reddened a bit. “My roommate and I have discussed it. Her parents own a pork farm, and they humanely raise their pigs. And Brad’s cattle are humanely raised.”
Jonathan looked to me. “Did you put this idea in her head?”
“No. You can see I took several meatballs. But we do raise our animals humanely. All pastured and grass fed. They’re not force fed and they’re not confined to small spaces, like a lot of animals are.”
“Daphne has always loved animals,” he said.
“Yeah, I do,” she agreed, “and it dawned on me that I shouldn’t be contributing to animals in pain.”
“Why not just go vegetarian?” Lucy asked.
“Because I love meat. I believe we need meat. I just don’t believe we need to abuse animals to get it.”
Lucy smiled. “That sounds just like you, sweetie. Always so caring. You do whatever makes you happy. Next time I make meatballs, I’ll be sure to buy only meat that’s humanely raised.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
The two women exchanged a smile, and it struck me that Lucy Wade would do anything for her daughter.
Anything.
Even accept a marriage and pregnancy at eighteen.
We were going to be okay.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Daphne
My dinner tasted like dirt.
Yeah, it was my favorite meal, but I could barely produce enough saliva to get it down. After dinner, I had to tell my parents about my pregnancy and my impending marriage.
I hated to disappoint them.
The good news was that my father already seemed to adore Brad. They continued to talk animatedly about the ranch during dinner.
My mother served up her signature chocolate cake for dessert, and I ate mine deliberately slowly, trying to draw out the evening.
More time.
Needed more time.
I was so not ready for this.
“Care for a nightcap?” my father asked Brad when I’d eventually eaten the last crumb of my cake.
“No, thank you,” Brad said, eyeing me.
No more drinking. We have