Several people turned their head curiously, infected by his mirth and smiled. Still perplexed at his continued, more subdued laughter, Rebecca asked, “What in the world is so funny?”
“Once my wife sees who is meeting you at the station and understands you are related to and will be staying with one of the most influential families in this part of Texas, she will be green with envy. I can’t wait to see the look on her face,” Peter declared as he again roared with laughter.
Chapter 18
Dear Papa,
Papa Horace and I spend most of our time at his friend’s law office. He thinks I will make an exceptional law clerk. I much prefer working with numbers…
Peter Marks entered the prestigious law office of Jonas Weber’s brother, Jacob, who left the comfort of his beautiful leather chair and extended his hand in greeting. “Right on time, I see. Peter, you are Johnny-on-the-spot. What can I do for you?”
Peter glanced at documents outlining the petition on the attorney’s desk. “I am here at your request, Jacob, to discuss Rebecca Mueller.”
“Pardon my confusion. My legal assistant assured me he answered your questions in a previous meeting. We are both successful, busy men. Since time is money as they say, what is this about?”
Peter took a seat at the edge of the desk. “Your reputation as a lawyer is excellent. Therefore, I find it hard to believe you would intentionally be negligent of the estate belonging to a client of yours.” Seeing the fury cross Jacob’s face at the accusation, Peter continued, “Let me be clear, it is my belief you have been deceived. What I would like to know is whether you would like for me to enlighten you now or in court?”
Jacob Weber’s face flushed red with anger, yet he answered in a controlled voice. “You intrigue me, what causes you to question the integrity of this law firm?”
“For clarity, let me recap. You believe Charles Mueller has been providing for his daughter Rebecca, financially at first to her guardian, later for a boarding school, and currently a finishing school for young ladies?”
Glancing at his notes, Jacob Weber said, “Yes, an allotment is sent each year to the school along with additional money necessary for painting, music lessons, boarding, and clothing. There has also been a considerable amount allotted for her to have the required medical attention due to her unfortunate health issues. You have seen the figures.”
Peter picked up the journal. “Rebecca Mueller, until recently, never left Carrie Town. She was schooled at home. In fact, the only boarding she’s been involved in was at a boarding house where she lived on her own the last few years, barely making ends meet. The one thing we can agree on is, substantial funds have been withdrawn, or rather, they were embezzled from her trust fund.”
Narrowing his eyes, Jacob Weber pointed at the satchel plump with documentation laying partially open on the chair Peter vacated. “Exactly what do you have that proves your claim, sir?”
“Birth, baptism records, affidavits of witnesses, medical records. Additionally, perhaps the most compelling is years of correspondence Rebecca sent to her father which was returned unopened.”
Jacob Weber’s eyebrows knitted together. “Charles Mueller is a hard man, it is true. However, I would never believe this of him. There must be some mistake. I cannot believe he would deny his daughter in this way.”
Peter withdrew a stack of letters from his satchel addressed to Charles Mueller. “Look closely, Jacob, a small sampling of years of letters to a father who refused to bother to read them.”
Jacob rubbed his chin as he considered Peter’s statement. “When I took over Charles’s legal affairs initially, he always became agitated discussing any details regarding Becky. Naturally, I assumed it was from the stress of her illness. The last ten years or so he sent his wife or accountant for any business needs. Frankly, my assistant handles all of that.” Jacob flipped through the records from the file on his desk. “We have letters on file from the school giving details on her academic progress and how she was progressing socially. There is certainly no evidence any of these details were falsified.”
“Perhaps, you need more time to review this new information, to decide how best to proceed. I am leaving you with a copy of the doctor’s report, along with the affidavits of the witnesses. Keep the returned letters. Unfortunately, there are years of additional examples where those came from. We will be in town for the next few days. Afterward, Rebecca will be visiting the Brooks’ family ranch. She would like to become reacquainted with her father, so I will leave it to you to set a time to meet. However, if you have not done so within the month, I will see you in court.”
Somberly, Jacob extended his hand to Peter. “Rest assured the matter will be investigated fully.”
Putting on his hat to leave, Peter added, “If this were me and the shoe was on the other foot, I would produce the Rebecca Mueller who has been the recipient of a large sum of money. I also would be investigating your accountant.”
“He is not my accountant, Mr. Marks. The accountant Mr. Mueller uses is his own, a Mr. James Taylor. I’ve never had reason to question him before. He turns his receipts in timely, never anything out of line. Nevertheless, I see your point. I will proceed most carefully.”
The elimination of the use of his first name was not lost to Peter. So be it. “It seems we will have to go about this the hard way.”
Chapter 19
Dear Papa,
Today is March 30, 1885, my 15th birthday. Papa Horace said I was born on the day that Congress readmitted Texas into the Union. He is not feeling well. I am worried about him. It is a comfort Papa Horace’s other nephew arrived to help.
Sam struggled with the process of the final steps of the saddle he’d been working on. Everything was assembled except for the wrapping of the horn. He had already wrapped it several times, fighting to get the stretch out, when he heard his girls squealing. From the moment they were born, six years ago, he had been amazed at the sounds that could come from such tiny little bodies. Stopping his work for a quick moment, he focused again on the noise and smiled as he realized they were pleased about something.
“Pa, Pa, we got a letter.”
“I was hoping that was what all the noise was about. Come on in here and read it to me. I am not at a place where I can stop.”
“Is it okay if we open it, Pa?” Grace asked.
“He is teasing us, Gracie. He knows we don’t read that good,” Sadie said with a snort.
Grace corrected, “Well. He knows we don’t read well.”
Sadie studied her sister for a moment then put her hands on her hips. “That is what I said.”
Laughing softly at their antics but sensing a battle, Sam corrected his daughters. “Girls, enough is enough. Grace, would you go see if Emma can come read it to us? If she can’t, we will have to wait until I can turn loose of this saddle.”
Sam watched as Grace happily complied. Sadie followed, united over a common goal. His gut clenched as he wondered again if Rebecca would want to come back after spending all these weeks hobnobbing with folks who spent more money in a week than he made all year. No one would blame her if she doesn’t after I treated her like I did.
Silently he prayed, Lord, please let me be able to make it up to her. Allow me to be the husband and father you want me to be. Help me, so my desires are yours. Please, Lord.
Turning back to his work, he attacked the leather with a vengeance.
Sam ran his hand along the saddle, smiling as he admired the fruits of his labor. He couldn’t help but be proud of how it was turning out. A couple more orders should allow him to be able to pay his share of the taxes. Maybe then he could relax a little.
Deep in thought, he was jolted back to reality as he heard the girls’ voices again. What was it about girls and their squeals, he wondered, as Emma came into view being dragged into the barn by the twins. He smiled again, thinking how much they looked like his niece. “I see the girls wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“No, they certainly di
dn’t.” Emma patted the girls’ backs. “However, I was happy to come. I will be glad to read your letter.”
“Please, go ahead with the girls’ part. We can read mine later,” he said as he felt his cheeks redden.
Emma set on the bench beside the girls. Clearing her throat, she read.
Dear Grace and Sadie,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you are both being good.
Emma paused, raising her eyebrows in question.
“It would be a lot easier to be good if Sadie wasn’t always trying to tell me what to do,” Grace said.
Sadie gasped. “I don’t tell you what to do, but what not to do.”
Clearing his throat, Sam interrupted. “Girls, do you want to hear your letter or not?”
Taking his meaning, they sat as still as possible, waiting for Emma to continue.
I miss you both so much. I am comforted by the beautiful picture your Pa drew for me. I look at his sketches and the beautiful drawing you sent in your last letter every day.
This past week I have stayed at the ranch. They have a lot of beautiful horses. I find I can ride in the morning during the cool portion of the day without a single cough. They also have pigs, chickens, sheep, and goats. The baby goats are so funny and seem to always run in circles or stand on each other’s backs.
My cousins employ a cook here. She makes the most wonderful fried chicken. She promises me she will be able to teach me to make it. She is continuously tempting me with something fresh from the oven. Everyone is always trying to get me to eat something no matter where I go. Soon I shall grow to be quite fat.
I miss you all.
Much love,
Rebecca.
“Pa, can we get a baby goat?” Grace asked.
“Can we get two? That way we can see them stand on each other’s back. One could be for me and the other for Grace,” Sadie asked hopefully.
Chuckling, Sam explained, “Rebecca’s cousin’s family live in hill country. Since the land there is different, the sheep and goats keep the weeds controlled, which allows the grass to grow for the cattle.”
Molly had helped Sam read Rebecca’s previous letters, which described the beautiful scenery at the Brooks’ ranch with its green hills and crystal-clear water, a striking contrast to the area around Carrie Town, which was mostly flat. She described the terrain as breathtaking yet challenging to manage.
Chuckling to himself, Sam thought, leave it to Rebecca to take the time to learn the ins and outs of ranching in hill country.
“I don’t know what Uncle Adam would think about bringing goats here. We will have to do some studying on that.”
Grace nodded, but Sadie pressed the issue. “I think a goat sounds much more interesting, don’t you, Pa? Maybe Uncle Adam should sell all the cattle and get goats, instead?”
Emma laughed. “Come on, you two. Help me set the table. Let’s allow your Pa to finish his work, so maybe he can join us.”
Sadie narrowed her eyebrows. “Did you or Uncle Adam make supper?”
“Uncle Adam has been working outside all day, so I made it. I am trying out a new recipe. I think you will like it.”
Watching her father as he turned back to his saddle making, Sadie replied, “I believe Pa has too much work left to do to join us for supper.”
Sadie ran to her father with extended arms. “I love you, Pa. Whispering into his ear, she added, “Ask Cookie to save us something to eat, please.”
Chapter 20
Dear Papa,
I fear I will never be the elegant lady Aunt Eloise wanted me to be. It is so much more gratifying to work with numbers and to read about the law than to try and make little flowers with my stitching. I am afraid I was a great disappointment to her...
After weeks of attempts, Jacob Weber finally managed to meet with Charles Mueller, a man who was continuously at work on his 75,000-acre ranch. At first glance, the wealth he now amassed could not be noted in his simple attire of denim work pants and vest, except upon closer inspection of his boots. He’d begun wearing the more practical pointy-toe boot, knee-high design pulled on by mule-ear straps years ago, but they now were made of superior leather, and sported patterns in colorful threads.
“I don’t believe it. This is some hoax of Elizabeth Brooks. She only wants to get control of Becky’s inheritance. I would never have believed she would stoop so low. Leah would be heartbroken.”
“Charles, the information Mr. Marks presented is persuasive, which is why I would like for us to go over the evidence. The facts are so compelling, if we were to go to court today, a judge could be persuaded in their favor.”
“Nonsense, what could she know about my daughter? It is reprehensible of you to insist I come to your office for this nonsense. You are wasting my time.”
“This meeting would not be necessary if I were not at least convinced of the validity of the facts.” Pausing, Jacob watched for his reaction. “Charles, when was the last time you saw Becky in person?”
Silence filled the room as pain crossed the large man’s face. It was still a handsome face, although weathered by the many hours in the sun. His eyes, a light blue speckled with green and encircled by a darker blue, closed as he reflected on the question. “I have not been permitted to see her since she was five years old.”
“After reviewing the custody papers your former lawyer drew up, the intention was not that you should never see her, rather she would never be alone in the presence of your wife.”
“Do not speak of things you know nothing about,” Charles snarled.
“There is no doubt this is going to be painful. Whatever the custody agreements were at the time, they are no longer valid at this point, as Rebecca turned eighteen months ago.”
“I am aware of how old my daughter is.” Charles clenched his jaw.
“We can continue in this manner, nipping at each other’s heels and getting nowhere, or we can get down to facts. I have reviewed the documents presented, including a detailed report from a private investigator. Unless you can provide me with information proving differently, it seems likely, until recently, your daughter never left Carrie Town. She has been living on her own in extremely reduced circumstances for the last two years.”
Charles’ hands clenched beside him, curling and uncurling in fists. “That is a lie.”
Saying nothing further, Jacob Weber reached for the stack of unopened correspondence written by Rebecca. He laid them out on his desk. “Take a look at these letters in a child’s handwriting. They are all addressed to you and marked ‘return to sender’ by the post office.”
Watching carefully for any sign of recognition or any emotion, he waited for a response. Charles glanced at the envelopes quickly as though he didn’t see the importance. “What is this nonsense?”
Jacob picked up one of the envelopes which had been cast aside. “I would like for you to examine these letters, to see if you recognize the handwriting. Do you ever recall receiving a letter like this from your daughter?”
Head down, Charles thumbed through the unopened letters now yellowed with age. “Yes, I received a letter much like this one after Eloise died. Which is how I recognized Becky would need someone to fill in where Horace could not.”
“What we need at this point is to produce your daughter in court. There would be no legal reason for you not to visit. Or, with your permission, we could send a reputable investigator to prove her whereabouts. In the meantime, I personally would like to interview your accountant.”
“You have my permission. Now, if that is all, I have work to do.” Charles scowled, put on his hat and left the office.
Stunned at his reaction, Jacob called for his assistant. As he returned to his desk, he noticed the letters were missing. Perhaps, the man was not so heartless after all?
Chapter 21
Dear Papa,
This winter seems to be even more severe than last year. How are you fairing? I fear Papa Horace is not going to make it to Christmas. I will miss
him so, and yet I can’t help wondering where I will live when he passes…
Rebecca enjoyed her visit with her cousins, especially the time spent with Elizabeth and her youngest daughter, Sara Jane, at their family’s ranch. They spent countless hours riding horseback, exploring the beautiful paths which included sprawling pastures, dense trails of wildflowers and the apple orchard. Elizabeth had taken great pride in explaining the family’s background.
“Although your mother’s love turned more to horses, she agreed with your father’s vision to raise cattle. The original investment for this property and your parent’s ranch was almost totally funded by a gift from your great-grandfather. He meant it as a legacy to pass from generation to generation.”
The leisure time Rebecca was allotted was unlike anything she could remember in the past years. The cooler temperature, as well as the abundance of good food, rest, and exercise, improved her health, and her coughing had diminished.
Much to her delight, Sara Jane enlisted her help in designing new dresses for the upcoming parties in town. They worked together to repurpose some old gowns they found stored in the attic. The new creations were off-the-shoulder designs with bow-accented sleeves and fitted bodices that dipped to a figure-flattering V at the waist. Sara Jane selected a champagne colored, striped silk brocade. Rebecca’s was blue silk.
Upon seeing the completed products, Elizabeth was elated. “You girls couldn’t look any prettier. You are both so alike in appearance. It was the same for your mother and me. We were often mistaken for sisters.” Although it was true the physical characteristics of honey-colored hair and blue eyes were similar, it was the actual feeling of belonging to a family that was pleasing to Rebecca. But as much as Rebecca looked forward to attending parties and meeting new friends, she found herself reluctant to leave the ranch.
“Are you excited about going back into town, Rebecca?” Elizabeth asked.
Rebecca's Hope Page 8
