Page 69 of River Legacy
Her daughters and sons stood silently nearby, their heads down. Tilly was the only one who’d cried when she dropped her handful of dirt on her brother’s casket. “It’s the pregnancy hormones still in her system,” Oakley had whispered. Charlotte thought she was probably right. CJ had been terrible to his siblings growing up, almost taking both Oakley’s and Tilly’s lives. It was no secret that they all assumed CJ had also been behind Brand being shot and Oakley’s house almost burning down.
Holden put his arm around her as the funeralended. Yesterday she’d stood by his side as he’d buried his oldest son. He’d come to her the moment he heard about their sons’ deaths. He’d held her as she told him how sorry she was. He’d never know just how sorry. Then they called their other offspring to let them know, before planning their family-only funerals.
Together she and Holden now walked away, both she suspected feeling guilty at the relief they felt. It was a horrible feeling.
“Surely you are going to postpone the wedding,” Tilly said after the private funerals. They’d all gathered back at the McKenna Ranch. “What will people think?”
Charlotte smiled. “Everyone who matters knew CJ and Treyton. They will think what they will. It was a horrible tragedy what happened to our sons, but Holden and I are getting married. We aren’t putting it off any longer.”
She’d told Wendell Forester that she wanted to bury CJ on the Stafford Ranch. “I’m sure you have your reasons,” he’d said.
“My son blackmailed me to get it and then he sold it to escape his past,” she said. “It’s only fitting he spend eternity there.”
“We can postpone the wedding,” Holden said.
“No, we can’t,” Charlotte said. “We aren’t waiting any longer.”
He looked relieved. “You’re sure? People are probably going to talk.”
That made her laugh. It felt good since it had been a while. “You sound like Tilly. Everyone in three counties have talked about us our whole lives. Is there anyone who doesn’t know about the Staffords and the McKennas?”
He smiled. “You’re probably right. Have you read my daughter’s book?”
“Cover to cover,” Charlotte said. “I loved it! How about you?”
“I read it,” he admitted. “Bailey was nice enough to give me an advanced copy. But I can’t say I loved it. I’m worried about how everyone in it will react, since it is set to release next week—right before our wedding.”
“Perfect timing,” she said. “Isn’t that what a wedding is for, hanging out all your dirty laundry for everyone to see?”
“Actually, I don’t believe so.”
She laughed again at the thought of what people would say about her laughing so soon after burying her oldest son. Not that she cared. It was freeing, just as dropping that handful of dirt on his casket had been. She desperately missed the CJ she’d loved with all her heart and her hopes and dreams for him. There would always be a terrible ache inside her, but now she had to move on. Marrying Holden was a start. She wanted her children to see that people could change—even their mother.
“I know Bailey changed the names in the book, but you did recognize the two of us, didn’t you?” he asked.
Charlotte nodded. “I’m glad she didn’t pull any punches. She didn’t cut anyone else any slack either. I admire that about her, and I told her so in the note I sent her after I finished the book.”
He studied her openly for a moment, then pulled her to him. “I love you so much.”
“Warts and all?”
Holden chuckled. “Warts and all—just like our families.”
Wendell Forester didn’t like the way the federal agent was looking at him. For the past seventy-two hours he’d been answering questions, first by security at the airport, then local law enforcement. Now the feds were involved.
Agent Al Brooks was with what was called the Fly Team, investigating the explosion that destroyed his plane, he explained. Surely, the feds didn’t think he would blow up his own plane? It had to have been an accident.
“Are you familiar with a man named Brice Schultz?” the agent asked.
“Of course I am. He was one of my security guards.”
“But wasn’t he also a pilot and mechanic who had done work on your plane?” Wendell nodded, wondering where this was going. “Was he in your employ at the time of the explosion on your plane?” the agent asked.
“No, I’d fired him a few days before, along with my other guard.”
The agent considered his notes. “John Jacob Gibson?”
“Was it JJ piloting my plane when it blew up?”
