He coughed and stared down at the paper. “Right. Let’s see here, then.” He cleared his throat again and began. My heart did a skip and a jump, then a double axel. “I, Mary Jackson, being of sound mind and body, do hereby leave the following upon my demise. To Roy Presley, for taking care of my gardens, my prized roses, my manicured lawns and the trees that have been on this estate for generations, I leave ten acres of my land, those to the far west, to do with as he pleases.” Roy squealed and then bit down on his lip in order to contain himself. Though the squeal, of course, was telltale; Zeb might not have had a shot with Jake, but Roy was fair game. Fair being the optimal word. Again, stunning. Simply stunning. Anyway, Claude wasn’t finished with Roy just yet. “Provided,” he continued, t
