Николас Спаркс - The Longest Ride

Luke searched the faces surrounding them, reality slowly sinking in. “Okay,” he said. “But I couldn’t make that kind of decision without talking to my attorney.”

“I think that’s a wise decision,” Sanders said. “Though we’re here to answer any questions, I would recommend you retain an attorney sooner rather than later. You will benefit from a professional to guide you through what will likely be a rather complicated process, not just concerning the estate, but other areas of your life as well. After all, you are now, even after you pay the taxes, an incredibly wealthy man. So please, ask any questions you wish.”

Luke met Sophia’s eyes, then turned back to Sanders.

“How long were you Ira’s attorney?”

“Over forty years,” he answered with a trace of wistfulness.

“And if I hire an attorney, that attorney would represent me to the best of his or her ability?”

“Since you are their client, they would be obligated to.”

“So maybe,” Luke said, “we should just get that out of the way right now. How do I hire you? In case I want to talk to Mr. Lehman here?”

“You’d need to provide me with a retainer.”

“How much would that be?” Luke wrinkled his brow in concern.

“For now,” Sanders said, “I think a single dollar would be sufficient.”

Luke drew a long breath, finally coming to terms with the enormity of it all. The wealth. The ranch. The life he could create with Sophia.

With that, Luke pulled out his wallet and inspected its contents. There wasn’t much left after purchasing the portrait, just enough to buy a couple of gallons of gasoline.

Or maybe less, since he used part of it to retain Howie Sanders.

Epilogue

In the months that followed the auction, Luke sometimes felt himself to be acting out a part in a fantasy that someone else had scripted for him. On David Lehman’s recommendation, another auction had been scheduled for mid-June, this time in New York. Yet another had been scheduled for mid-July, and another in September. The sales would include the majority of the collection, more than enough to cover any taxes that were due.

On that first day, with Gabrielle and David Lehman in the room, Luke also explained the situation with the ranch, watching as Sanders took notes. When Luke asked if there was any way he could access the money he needed to pay off the mortgage, Sanders excused himself from the room, only to return fifteen minutes later, where he calmly explained to Luke that the senior vice president of the bank with whom he had spoken was open to extending the lower payments for another year and perhaps even deferring the interest payments entirely for the time being, if that was Luke’s preference. And in light of Luke’s newly affluent circumstances, the bank would consider extending a line of credit for any improvements he wanted to make as well.

All Luke could do was choke out a couple of words. “But… how?”

Sanders smiled, that glint of mischief surfacing again in his eyes. “Let’s just say that they would like to strengthen their relationship with a loyal customer who has suddenly come into means.”

Sanders also introduced him to a number of money managers and other advisers, sitting next to him during the interviews, asking questions that Luke barely understood, much less thought to ask. He helped Luke begin to grasp the complexities that went along with wealth, reassuring him that he would be there to assist him in all that he would need to learn.

Despite how overwhelmed he sometimes felt, Luke was the first to admit there were far worse problems to have.

Initially, his mom didn’t believe him, nor would she believe Sophia. First she scoffed, then after he reiterated what had happened, she grew angry. It wasn’t until he called their local bank and asked for the senior vice president that she began to accept that he might not be kidding.

He put her on the phone with the bank officer, who reassured her that she needn’t worry about the loan for the time being. While she showed little emotion during the call, answering in monosyllables, after she hung up she drew Luke into her arms and wept a little.

When she pulled back, however, the stoic mother he knew was once again in place.

“They’re being generous now, but where were they when I really needed them?”

Luke shrugged. “Good question.”

“I’m going to take them up on their offer,” she announced, wheeling around. “But once that loan is paid back in full? I want you to find another bank.”

Sanders helped him with that, too.

Sophia’s family came down from New Jersey for her graduation, and Luke sat with them on that warm spring day, cheering as she crossed the stage. Afterward, they went out to dinner, and to his surprise, they asked if they could visit the ranch the following day.

Luke’s mom put him to work all morning, both inside and outside the house, tidying up while she made lunch. They ate at the picnic table in the backyard, Sophia’s sisters alternately gaping at their surroundings and staring at Sophia, no doubt still trying to figure out how Luke and Sophia had ended up together.

Yet they all seemed remarkably comfortable together, especially Sophia’s mom and Linda. They talked and laughed as they toured the ranch, and when Luke turned toward the garden, it warmed his heart to see the straight, neat rows of vegetables that his mom had just planted.

“You could live anywhere, Mom,” Luke said to her later that night. “You don’t have to stay on the ranch. I’ll buy you a penthouse in Manhattan if you want one.”

“Why would I want to live in Manhattan?” she asked, making a face.

“It doesn’t have to be Manhattan. It could be anywhere.”

She stared out the window, at the ranch where she’d been raised.

“There’s no place I’d rather live,” she said.

“Then how about you let me get things fixed up around here. Not piecemeal, but all at once.”

She smiled. “Now that,” she said, “sounds like a first-rate idea.”

“So, are you ready?” Sophia asked him.

“For what?”

After graduation, Sophia had gone back home to stay with her parents for a week before returning to North Carolina.

“To tell me what happened in South Carolina,” she said, fixing him with a determined expression as they walked into the pasture in search of Mudbath. “Did you ride Big Ugly Critter? Or walk away?”

At her words, Luke felt himself flashing back to that wintry day, one of the bleakest points in his life. He remembered walking toward the chute and staring at the bull through the slats; he recalled the current of fear surging through him and the taut bowstrings of his nerves. And yet, somehow, he forced himself to do what he’d come to do. He mounted Big Ugly Critter and adjusted his wrap, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. It’s just a bull , he told himself, a bull like any other . It wasn’t and he knew it, but when the chute gate swung open and the bull exploded out of the gate, Luke stayed centered.

The bull was as violent as ever, bucking and twisting like something possessed, yet Luke felt strangely in control, as if he were observing himself from some distant remove. The world seemed to move in slow motion, making it feel like the longest ride of his life, but he stayed low and balanced, his free arm moving across his body to maintain control. When the horn finally sounded, the crowd surged to its feet, roaring its approval.

He quickly undid the wrap and jumped off, landing on his feet. In a replay of their prior encounter, the bull stopped and turned, nostrils flaring, his chest heaving. Luke knew that Big Ugly Critter was about to charge.

And yet, he didn’t. Instead, they simply stared at each other until, incredibly, the bull turned away.