“You didn’t stay at Ware House?”
Jordan handed her a glass and waved her over to one of the love seats. “The atmosphere there has always been a bit frigid. And things have gotten worse since I got my MBA and started working at Eva Ware Designs. But it goes back further than that. I don’t think that Uncle Carleton and Mom ever saw eye to eye even when they were kids. The friction escalated when my grandfather died. Uncle Carleton is one of those old-fashioned men who believes that the oldest son should inherit everything outright. Thank heavens, my grandfather didn’t agree. When he died, he divided everything up between Mom and Uncle Carleton—even Ware House. She took her half of the stocks, bonds and cash and invested everything in her design business. She was able to move into the Madison Avenue store.”
“Smart decision,” Maddie said.
“I agree, but the other Wares didn’t.”
Maddie grinned suddenly.
“What?”
“What you called them—the other Wares. I’d already started thinking of them that way.”
Smart, Jordan thought. Her twin was perceptive. That could work in her favor. Tucking her feet underneath her, she leaned back. “As a sort of peace offering, Mom agreed to let Uncle Carleton, Aunt Dorothy and Adam live in Ware House. She got to use the place for business parties, and she agreed to attend any social gatherings that had to do with Ware Bank.”
Maddie sipped her wine. “You said the friction’s gotten worse since you went to work for Eva Ware Designs.”
“Because before that, Adam thought he had a clear shot at taking over the business one day. He’d been there for three years before I joined the company. He’s a brilliant designer. Mom was very aware of that. His parents were disappointed with him because he didn’t go into banking, so I think he feels he has to succeed. Aunt Dorothy certainly does. Plus, he has a temper.”
“I noticed. He may be a fine designer, but he doesn’t have your background in business.”
Jordan studied her for a moment. “How do you know that?”
“I looked you up on the Internet. A bachelor’s degree from the Wharton School, an MBA from Harvard. Very impressive.”
Slowly, Jordan smiled. “Touché. I visited your Web site. It needs some work, by the way. But the jewelry doesn’t. What I saw was beautiful.”
Setting her glass down, Jordan leaned closer and fingered one of the earrings Maddie was wearing. The silver had been configured into fragile lace surrounding a clear turquoise stone. “This is quite lovely. Mom was always looking for turquoise of this quality.”
“She should have come to New Mexico.”
Jordan met her sister’s eyes and saw a hint of pain that she totally understood. “She was in New Mexico when she gave birth to us. I badgered Fitzwalter until he showed me our birth certificates. We were born in Santa Fe.”
“She was at the ranch?”
“I don’t know about that, but she was definitely in Santa Fe.”
“She should have come back.”
“Yes, she should have. And our father should have come here. I’m not sure we’ll ever find out why they didn’t. Or why they separated us.”
“Why does she want us to switch places?” Maddie asked. “You said you had a theory about that?”
“I do. I got it the moment I searched your name. I think she wants you to get an in-depth experience at Eva Ware Designs because she wants you here.”
“No. That’s impossible.”
“I know her. She was a very focused woman. I’m sure she was keeping track of your career, and if and when something happened to her, she wanted you to see what she’d created—to know that you could share in it.”
“But why didn’t she contact me? Why put it in her will?”
Jordan rose and began to pace. “I’ve asked myself those questions over and over. She could have been afraid to contact you after all these years. The other thing about her is that designing jewelry was her driving passion.” Jordan waved a hand. “She gets—used to get—totally lost in her work. Other things got pushed to the back burner.”
“Why three weeks?”
“She probably thought twenty-one straight days would do it.” Jordan’s smile was wry. “When she first started at her gym, her trainer told her that doing something every day for three weeks was what it took to build a habit.”
“But that’s…crazy. And it’s not fair to you.”
“It’s not crazy if you knew Mom. Eva Ware Designs meant everything to her.” Jordan paced to one of the windows before she turned back. “That’s why we have to talk about the will.”
Maddie rose also. “Yes, we do. I want you to know that—”
Jordan held up a hand. “Stop right there. Since I’m the oldest, I get to go first.”
Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know you’re the oldest?”
Not a pushover either, Jordan thought. “I told you I’d seen the birth certificates. I beat you into the world by almost four minutes.” Impulsively, she strode over and grabbed Maddie’s hands. “I want you to please hear me out before you say a word.”
Maddie nodded.
Jordan dropped her sister’s hands, whirling away. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this in a way that will convince you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Jordan glared at her and pointed a finger. “You said you’d hear me out.”
“Okay. Okay.” Maddie threw both hands up and sat back down on the love seat. Watching her sister made her think of her father. That glare Jordan had just given her had been pure Mike Farrell and her father had always paced when he was trying to talk her into something. But she’d just wanted to make it easy for Jordan. The money, the house, Eva Ware Designs—none of it belonged to her. It should have all gone to Jordan. How could her sister want her to take it?
“I know it’s crazy.” Jordan sat back down on the love seat. “The thing is, we have to agree to the terms of the will.”
Maddie simply stared at her. “How can you possibly want that? It’s not fair.”
Jordan ran her hands through her hair. “I know it’s not. It’s horribly unfair. Switching places will be complicated, to say the least. But I don’t see what else we can do. I saw on your Web site that you have a jewelry show in Santa Fe in four days.”
Maddie did, and in all the turmoil of the last few days it had entirely slipped her mind. “I can’t miss it. I’ve worked for months on those designs, and it’s essential that I be there to make contact with new buyers.”
“No worries. I should be able to handle the show. I’ve done several with my mother. Marketing the product is the part of the business I’m good at.”
“But there are other things—problems at the ranch,” Maddie said.
“What kind of problems?”
Maddie raised her hands and dropped them. “I’m just not the best rancher in the world, and I’ve been struggling to fill my father’s shoes and at the same time grow my jewelry business. My neighbor, Cash Landry, has been helping me, but I can’t let that go on forever. And there’s this real estate agent, Daniel Pearson, who wants to sell the ranch