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five million dollars each, to Peter Ball, Jack Ball, Gigi Mallon, and also to Louise and Aggie. Additionally, last year, she set up a trust to fund a scholarship program for low-income students in the states of both Oregon and Vermont, with particular attention on the arts and literature. She populated it with five million dollars, all of which will be managed by a foundation with the idea that it will continue to fund scholarships with dividends and the like. The rest is to be split between the two of you, along with the house. The deed goes to both of you.”
    “Why would she split it between us instead of giving it to Sutton?” asked Declan.
    “She considered you equally her children. And felt a great responsibility to you, Declan, after your mother passed away.” Conrad thumbed through the stack of papers and then handed an envelope across the desk to Declan. “This is a letter to you. I suspect it expresses some of her feelings.”
    Sutton glanced over at Declan. He was pale and visibly shaken. He said, “But I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t ask for it. It’s not right. It should be Sutton’s.”
    She reached across the arm of her chair, covering his cold hand with hers. “But I don’t need it all. I don’t need any of it, Dec. And I knew this was coming. She hinted at it in her letter to me.” Sutton smiled. “But she didn’t tell me about the others.”
    “She was very specific about the others, Sutton. Your mother wanted them to know how important they’d been to her all these years. As you know, she was very close to Louise and loved those boys almost as much as she loved you two. And Gigi, well, she practically grew up in this house. Your mother loved her very much.”
    Sutton choked up, tightening her grip on Declan’s hand. “Those were such happy times for me.”
    “For your mother too.” Conrad took another letter from the stack of papers and gave it to Sutton. “This is a letter for the other ‘kids,’ as she called them. She asked that you read it to them.” He rose to his feet. “I won’t keep you. The details are all here in the legal document.”
    They walked him to the office door. After he was gone, Declan leaned against the wall, the letter clutched in his hand.
    “I can’t take your mother’s money.”
    “But you must.”
    He stuffed the letter in the back pocket of his jeans. “We’ll see about that.”
    You’re the most impetuous, restless, proud man I’ve ever met, she thought. “But she wanted you to have it. You don’t have to spend it all at once, for Heaven’s sake.”
    “I make my own way.”
    “Declan Treadwell, if it weren’t the day of my mother’s memorial I would deck you right now.”
     

C HAPTER F OUR
    SUTTON CONTINUED TO GLARE at Declan. Her hand twitched with the sudden urge to smack that smug look from his face. Or, kiss him. One or the other. He glared back as the door opened. It was Roger. Sutton cringed, seeing him dressed in the Pacific Northwest high-tech guy uniform of jeans, T-shirt, and those awful walking sandals with the Velcro. He looked ridiculous next to Declan’s European chic with his crisp white shirt and perfectly draped black pants.
    Declan extended his hand, introducing himself.
    “Ah, yeah, sure,” said Roger. “Nice to meet you.” He turned to Sutton. “What’re you doing in here?”
    “We’re talking. Dec just got here,” said Sutton. “We’re going over some details.” She felt defensive and guilty.
    “Well, people are looking for you,” said Roger.
    “This isn’t a party where Sutton has to circulate. No one expects that,” said Declan, his eyes lidded.
    Sutton put her hand on Declan’s arm. “It’s all right. I should go out there. We can do the ashes tomorrow.”
    “What time?” asked Roger. “I’ll need to get back to Portland for a meeting by three.”
    “She wanted it just family,” said Sutton.
    Roger’s eyes darted between them and then he nodded his head. “Yup, fine. Makes