Josh

"Relax," Amelia said, glancing at him across the space between them. They sat in rich leather chairs, surrounded by unnecessary finery. The town's only lawyer was a noxious blowhard, desperately striving for the status of his brethren in the cities. Never mind that all he ever handled were real estate deals and marriage licenses. From the framed certificates on his wall and the whiskey cart by the fire, one got the impression he dealt only with the wealthiest tycoons.

Josh glanced at the empty chair on the far side of the desk. "This feels like a set-up," he told his wife, his leg bouncing. "Something isn't right."

"Everything is fine," she soothed, reaching out and taking hold of his hand. "Your men are stationed right outside, remember? Nobody with any ill intent is getting in here. It's just a business meeting."

"You should have stayed at home," he grumbled. "It's not safe."

"What kind of partner would I be if I let you come here alone?" she chastised, squeezing his fingers. "I know you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, and maybe it will, but nothing bad is going to happen to us. Not today. Today is a good day, love."

"It'll be a good day tonight," he argued. "When we're home and I have you in bed. Right now it's just... something's off, Ames."

"It is," she agreed with a curl of her lips. "That father of yours is finally acting right, and Brent has pulled his head out of his ass. The whole world is upside down. But it's not bad upside down, Josh. It's good."

"I just--"

Before he could elaborate on his feelings of unease, the door opened. The lawyer stepped in, gesturing with his hand at the empty chairs before the desk. Brent and their father entered, both looking worn and thin. Only four days had passed since his father's surprise visit, and they were all still suffering the effects of the fire. He watched as Brent shuffled painfully toward the chair and sank into it, refusing to meet Josh's eye. Their father sat in the middle chair, and Josh was glad Amelia was on the edge. It hadn't been a conscious decision to offer her that seat, but he was grateful to be between her and the other men.

"Right," the lawyer said, sinking into the wing-backed chair behind the desk. "Let's get started, shall we? Owen, I drew up all the papers while I was holed up by the storm. All we need is signatures. We'll sign over the deed first, shall we? The will is a bit more complex and I'd like to talk you through the changes."

Maybe Josh had given the lawyer too hard a time. The man's brusque, businesslike manner was a strange balm to his frayed nerves. He stared as a piece of paper was pushed across the desk, the top printed in type-written script but the rest covered in the lawyer's scrawling handwriting. He edged closer on his chair, Amelia leaning forward as well, and they both read over the deed. It was simple. Almost too simple, considering the implications. All of his father's land. All the buildings, the fences, the wells, the cattle, the horses, the history, even the name. Everything, signed from his father's name into his.

"Do you have any questions?" the lawyer asked, a bite of sarcasm to his voice. He was probably annoyed it was taking them so long to read it over, simple land deed that it was.

"Give them a minute, Eric," he heard his father say, and for the first time in decades he felt gratitude towards the old man. Genuine thankfulness. Turning away from the paper, he glanced at Amelia. Her pretty face was pale, freckles standing out across her nose as she stared at him.

Is it real? she seemed to ask.

I hope so, he answered with a shrug and a grimace.

"Where do we sign?" he asked the lawyer. The man used a finger to push the paper toward his father, handing over a gilded fountain pen. Josh watched his father place a flowing signature in the bottom left hand corner. Then the paper was pushed back to he and Amelia.

"Sign here," the lawyer said, offering the pen and pointing to a line on the right side, opposite his father's. His hand shook as he took the pen, waiting for the door to crash open. For all hell to break loose. For the fire to leap from the hearth and consume the room. But nothing happened. No greater disturbance occurred than the rough scratch of pen on paper as he scrawled his own signature on the paper.

The lawyer whisked the paper away to dry, replacing it with a thin stack of parchment.

"Now to the matter of the will," he said with a stately air. Josh sat in a shocked stupor, clinging to Amelia's hand as the man outlined the changes his father had made to the document. The ranch, of course, was already in Josh's hands. What remained were his father's liquid assets. The holdings in town that he rented out, as well as the properties that he managed from afar. The contents of his safety deposit box at the bank. His personal livestock-- the horses and chickens and dogs.

It was a thorough document. Josh had seen it before. Of course there had been more then-- all the contents of the house since stricken from the record-- but it was still familiar. He remembered how it had felt in the past, each time the will was altered slightly to accommodate some new asset. The horses- Brent. The house-- Brent. Their mother's jewelry-- Melissa. The holdings in town-- Brent. The safety deposit box-- Melissa. The books-- Melissa. The china-- Melissa. The dogs-- Melissa. The chickens-- Brent.

It had hurt something awful to attend those reviews in the past. To be reminded that nothing he did would ever be enough to earn him a place in his father's legacy. And now, today...

"--contents of the box will pass to Miss Tucker," the lawyer was saying. "But Mr. Tucker has requested that his liquid holdings be split evenly between his sons. Which brings us to the holdings. Mr. Tucker," he nodded at Brent. "You will receive all holdings beyond the local city limits. This includes the Denver City properties as well as the acreage outside of St. Louis. Mr. Tucker has requested that all his additional landed assets, located here in town, should pass to his eldest son upon his death."

Josh swallowed hard, staring at the polished wood of the lawyer's desk. He could feel his father's eyes boring into the side of his head, pleading forgiveness. He could feel Amelia's excitement, battering at his other side. What the hell kind of dream was this? He bit his tongue just to make sure he could feel the pain.

"Alright," he mumbled. "Do we... do I need to sign somewhere?" He'd always been an unwilling audience to these readings, relegated to the rough wooden chair in the corner purely for the sake of punishment. He didn't actually know what went into it.

"No," the lawyer scoffed. "This is just a review. Your father wanted to inform you of the changes before he signs.

"Right," he said, dazed. He looked at Amelia and she offered a tender smile. Then he looked the other way and caught his father's eye. The old man looked so haggard. They'd discussed, at length, what to do about him. Let him stay, or kick him out? His mindset was that, if the old man really intended to sign the ranch into his name, he owed him at least a place to lay his head. Amelia's mindset was that the old man deserved nothing. If they chose to let him stay, it needed to be because they wanted him around.

Beyond his father, Brent sat slumped in his chair, one hand wrapped around his middle and the other clenched in a fist in his lap. Josh expected an outburst any moment, but his brother remained sullen and quiet. Josh watched his father sign the new will, unable to process his changing fortune. When they stood to leave, Brent finally piped up.

"Can I have a minute?" he asked the lawyer.

"Of course." The man sat down, and Brent lowered his gaze to his lap.

"I meant, uh... I meant with my brother."

"Oh..." the lawyer trailed off. "Of course."

Amelia was not nearly so compliant. She sat down in her chair with an audible thump, reaching across to grasp Josh's hand once more.

"I'd like to talk to Josh alone," Brent said, as their father and the lawyer left the room.

"She's my wife," Josh said, squeezing Amelia's hand and repeating the speech he'd given his father less than a week before. "Whatever you say to me, you can say to--"

"Please, Josh," Brent begged, his gaze glassy as he raised it. "I just... it's hard to say. I can hardly say it to you. I don't know if I can say it with Amelia here. You can tell her everything I said, just please let me say it in privacy."

Josh glanced at his wife, and she made a funny face.

This is weird, she seemed to say, and he made a face back.

You okay?

"I'll go check in with Paul," she said, rising to her feet. Josh shot to his feet as well.

"I'll walk you out. Brent, wait here. I'll be back."

Without waiting for his brother's response, he escorted his wife to the front room, where Paul and two other ranch hands sat on the long leather couch, the revolvers strapped to their thighs completely at odds with the delicate coffee cups they held in their calloused hands.

"I'll be out in five," he told Paul, kissing Amelia's soft cheek and squeezing her hand before he returned to the lawyer's office.

Brent sat where he'd left him, slumped in the leather chair. Josh returned to his own seat, their father's empty chair between them, and studied his brother. The man looked ten years older, and more disheveled than he had been after the incident with the bear. His skin was pale, his hair mussed, his borrowed clothes wrinkled. The pants were a shade too small and the shirt hung loose on his wasted body.

"What is it you wanted to say?" he asked, fighting the pity and fraternal devotion that battled at his conscience. It was in his blood to fix Brent's problems. It was instinct. Nonetheless, he fought the reflex and forced his voice to convey only vague curiosity. This was his wife at stake. His daughter. He could no longer afford to give his little brother what he wanted-- not when it meant losing his family.

"Just two things," Brent mumbled, shifting higher in his chair, struggling to correct his posture. Those slash marks must be pulling like crazy every time he moved, but Josh didn't feel too bad for him. Not with the memory of flames and smoke and the sight of Amelia cradled in Brent's arms still so sharp in his memory.

"Yeah? What are they? I don't have all day, brother."

Brent's expression brightened for a moment, familiar challenge sparking in his eyes as he glanced up. Then his face collapsed once more into weariness and his gaze fell to his lap.

"I just wanted to say thank you," he said, shifting uncomfortably in the chair, a schick of cheap cloth on fine leather. "You saved my life. With the bear, with the fire... You could have let me die. I know..." he slumped, shaking his head. "I know it would have made your life easier. Simpler. Probably better. But you didn't. You saved my life. I needed you to know that I'm grateful."

"No problem," Josh said warily, glancing at the door. He just wanted to go find Amelia. Talk about the ranch. Their ranch. "That's my job, right?"

"No." Brent shook his head. "I mean maybe. We're blood. We're supposed to look out for each other. But I know that's only ever been a one way deal. And that's why I also wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"That so?" Josh said wryly. He could really use Amelia right now. She was much better than him at looking at things objectively and seeing people for who they were. She was always saying he was too "soft" and he was starting to think it was true. He wanted to pull his brother into a hug, but he gripped the arms of his chair and forced his face into an impassive mask.

"It is," Brent sighed, rubbing at his thigh with his thumb. "I'm sorry, Josh. You always looked out for me. Hell, you gave me your life's savings so I could escape this place. You married a pregnant woman so my daughter would have a home."

Josh opened his mouth to argue that last point, but Brent shook his head hard. "I know, I know," he said, waving a hand. "You love Amelia. You love Rebecca. They're your family. You were the victor, I get it, but you didn't always think you would be. How could you? You made a sacrifice taking them in, even if it turned out to be in your favor. And I... I came back and I thought I knew what was better." He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. When he looked up and met Josh's eye, his gaze was glassy with tears.

"Honestly, Josh," he said, tipping his head back against the chair and staring at the ceiling. "I thought she was unhappy. I thought she was just faking it when she said she was so love with you. You know how she is. How kind and accommodating. I--" he broke off at Josh's involuntary snort of laughter. "What?"

"That's who you think that woman is?" Josh asked, jerking his head toward the door. "Kind and accommodating?"

Brent scowled, flopping his hand vaguely in the air. "I just meant I thought she was... I dunno, going along with it? Acting like she was happy? I know it was wrong," he said hurriedly, forestalling Josh's furious argument that Amelia wasn't some simpering little damsel, faking her way through marriage just for the sake of security. "I know I was wrong," Brent repeated. "That's why I'm apologizing. I tried to steal your wife from you. That'd be wrong if you were any man, but you're not just any man. You're my brother."

"What about Rebecca?" Josh grated out. It was one thing for Brent to relinquish Amelia. It was entirely different question to ask that he sacrifice his right to be Rebecca's father. Josh would die to be Amelia's husband, but he would kill to be Rebecca's father.

"I love Rebecca," Brent said sadly, staring at his lap. "I love her the way you love all of us, Josh. I love her enough to let her go. You're her father. I can't say you love her more than I do, but I can say that you are better equipped to care for her. You've been ready to be a father since we were kids. I don't know if I'll ever be ready."

"So Reb's my daughter?" Josh asked suspiciously, eyeing his brother.

"Reb's your daughter," Brent agreed, nodding. "I would ask... I'd ask that I could still see her. But I swear to you I'll be her Uncle Brent. Nothing more. If I ever cross that line it'll be out of selfishness, and I wouldn't hold it against you if you killed me dead for it."

"I'm not gonna kill you, Brent," Josh sighed. "I just want what's best for my family."

"I know you do," Brent said with a nod. "You're a good man, Josh. I love our father, but you've always been the man I looked up to. I'm sorry that it came to this between us. I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've given me."

"You're not bitter about the ranch?"

"I never wanted the ranch, you know that. You and Melissa love this place more than I ever did. It was always meant to be yours. I can't say it won't hurt, coming home and seeing you and Amelia together here, raising Rebecca. But I'm an ass, Josh, not a fool. I know what's best for my daughter. You've been sacrificing for us your whole life. It's past time I give something up for what's right. It's right to let this go."

Josh didn't respond. Didn't know how to respond to this bizarre dreamworld into which he'd fallen. Maybe he really had died in the fire, and this was Heaven? He hadn't thought that was where he'd go, but he wasn't going to argue with it.

"Well," he said, clapping his hands on his thighs and rising to his feet. "I reckon it's time to go." He offered a hand and pulled Brent to his feet, and before the man could turn away he enveloped him in a hug. He slapped his back a few times and pushed him away, gripping him by the shoulders.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said, digging deep for the affection he knew he still carried for his brother, somewhere buried inside him. "You remember our uncle Rob?" Brent shook his head, a deep frown furrowing his brow. Josh just smiled. "He was ma's brother. Died when you were five, probably. Anyway, he visited a lot when we were little. I loved the guy. He taught me damn near everything I know about horses, and he was a connection to our mother than I didn't know I needed."

Brent's frown only deepened. "What are you--"

"Fathers aren't the only men who make a difference in a kid's life," he said. "Reb has a pa. That's me. Always will be. But there's no reason she can't also love her uncle to death. Can't learn from him. Can't admire him. Understood?"

Brent shuddered a little in his grip, head hanging on his neck. "Understood," he said simply.

Leaving his brother to his thoughts, Josh stepped out into the main room. Amelia shot to her feet and ran to him, plowing into his chest without any hint of decorum. He hugged her, kissed her cheek, took her hand, and they walked together out into the harsh white light of midday. Their makeshift security element trailed behind them, but they could have been alone for all he cared. They crunched out into the street, and he spun her around, seizing her by the arms and lowering his face to hers.

"I love you," he breathed, pressing a kiss to her soft lips and relishing the feel of her hands slipping beneath his jacket. Her fingers wound into the thick fabric of his shirt, and he had half a mind to toss her into the nearest snow drift and take her in front of the whole damned world.

"I love you too," she murmured. Then she pulled back, a sassy twist to her pretty lips. "Only because you're a wealthy rancher, though. I wouldn't love you if you weren't landed."

He snorted, shoving his fingers into the warmth of her hair. "I always knew you were after my riches."

"Mmmhmm," she hummed, raising her face for another kiss. "You know me well, Josh Tucker."

"I do," he agreed. "Well enough to guess it's about time we head home."

"Home," she echoed wistfully, gazing in the direction of the ranch. "For real?"

"For real," he said, trying to absorb the words himself.

"Forever?" she asked coyly, fluttering her eyelashes as she gazed up at him.

He grit his teeth, staring down at this perfect woman. Mother of the perfect daughter. Stewardess of 2,000 acres of pristine wilderness. He'd married her thinking he could offer her a semblance of stability. A small house. Staples for her pantry. Security for her daughter. He'd never, ever have guessed he could offer her this.

"Forever," he confirmed, wrapping her tight in his arms and lowering his face to the top of her head. Forever.

Forever. 

***Alright, guys. I really planned to be done with this thing by now. It is my curse that a 1k concept inevitably turns into a 10k execution. But we really are almost done. The epilogue is already written. In accordance with tradition, it was written before I started the story itself. But the last real chapter (Chapter 57) is kinda up to you guys. What do you wanna read? Whose POV do you want? What scene do you want to see? I have ideas, but I'd love to hear yours. ***