CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Kicking my heels around this place ain’t gonna change my mood,” said Cole, going through the papers in his father’s desk. “I can’t make head nor tail of any of this.”
“I will do it, Señor Reuben,” said Marta, her voice thick with grief.
“Most of it relates to cattle and horse deals from half a lifetime ago.” He sat back and looked at the mound of paperwork in despair. “Marta, I reckon most of this could be burned.”
“He was a great hoarder, your father,” she said, lifted a little by the memory. “I think he felt that he may need these things again another day, so he kept them, just in case.”
Running a hand through his hair, Cole gave a long sigh. “I should have gone with Sterling. I’m not ready for this sort of thing.”
“You must go if you feel it is your duty,” she said
