“No damn way!” Dylan McKeon blinked at the lawyer then turned his glare on his mother. “Did you instigate this?”
Daisy grinned back at him with all the innocence he knew his mother did not possess. “I’m as surprised as you, sweetie. Who’d have thought your father would do such a thing?” Judging by the upturned corners of her glossed lips, she did.
“Why would Dad leave half the ranch to Jordan?” It made no sense. Jordan had walked out of Dylan’s life over two years ago and he hadn’t seen neither hide nor hair of her since. Dylan turned back to the lawyer. “Is that all? What other death bed insanity did he pull?”
His father’s attorney and longtime drinking buddy ran a finger down the paper and flipped the page. “A few specified items and his vast music collection he left to Daisy.” He nodded to Mom. “All other personal property, vehicles, farm equipment, livestock, bank accounts go to Dylan McKeon, his only son. With the one specification.”
Dylan swallowed the bile in his throat. No way in Hell he was going to allow Jordan Harris to reap a cent off of his or his father’s hard work. “Fifty percent of my family ranch? We’ll see about that.”