“How are the nerves?”
Rosie opened her eyes and turned her attention to her friend. “Not too frazzled. But that’s only because I’m distracted by the dozens of butterflies in my stomach.”
Amanda laughed. “Relax. McLennons ensure our visitors feel right at home. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Except what I’ll learn about Michael Miller.” Rosie touched Amanda’s arm. She’d come to Montana to discover everything she could about her grandfather, whether good or bad. “What if your father tells me something absolutely unspeakable about Mr. Miller?”
“Not possible. Papa loved him, and my father is an excellent judge of character.” Amanda shook her head. “There isn’t one skeleton in your grandfather’s closet.”
“There’s one… my mother.” Rosie met Amanda’s eyes. “And I fear that revelation will blindside your father and plant a blight on his memory of the man he loved so much.”
“Papa experienced a lot in his life, trials and triumphs. I doubt news of your mother’s birth is about to disturb him much.” Amanda steered the rig under a towering wooden sign with burnt lettering stating DOUBLE M RANCH.
“I suppose the ranch is called the Double M because his name was Michael Miller,” Rosie muttered aloud.
“I never considered it before now. But yes, I imagine so.”
They rode alone in silence for some time.
Amanda glanced at Rosie. “Papa thought the world of Mr. Miller, and he even named his youngest son after him.”
“Michael McLennon,” Rosie whispered, and then she gasped. Why hadn’t she put it together before? “Michael McLennon is your brother.”
Amanda nodded.
“The cowboy who drove away in the wagon and left me standing on the street.” Rosie turned on the seat. “The fellow who accused me of lying.”
“Apparently so, although I cannot for the life of me understand why Michael would do such a thing. Exactly what did he say?”
Rosie wracked her brain to recall the incident. She needed to convey the general meaning behind their brief conversation without unduly demeaning her new friend’s brother. No matter how deserving of her criticism. “I told your brother I was Michael Miller’s granddaughter. I believe his exact words were... I know for a fact you’re a fraud. Michael Miller didn’t have any children.”
“And then he just drove away?”
“Yes.” Rosie shook her head. “I couldn’t imagine anything so rude. And feeling more alone in the world than ever before, I burst into tears.”
“Then I noticed you stan, crying.” Amanda smiled. “And thank goodness, I did.”
“Grandmother often told me things happen for a reason.” Rosie chuckled. “Perhaps they do.”
“Well, don’t worry. We’ll also sort out the misunderstanding with Michael while we’re at the ranch.” Amanda shifted on the seat. “And we’ll learn as much as we can about Mr. Miller from Papa. And Mrs. Sheridan, our housekeeper, will prepare a most scrumptious noon meal once she learns we’ve arrived.”
“You make it sound like a normal family visit.”
“I suppose it is… for me.” Amanda chuckled. “A bit nerve-wracking for you, though. At least, you’ll receive some answers.”
“If your father has any. Or perhaps our conversation will result in more questions,” Rosie stated her fear.
“Then we’ll try to find answers to those questions, too,” Amanda promised, steering the buggy into the yard at the ranch.
Rosie startled when a black and white dog shot out from under the veranda and approached the rig. The hair on the dog’s back stood on end while he barked incessantly. Rosie wasn’t stepping one foot down from the buggy until someone had gotten that animal under control.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Amanda secured the reins and then climbed down from the rig. “Floyd. How I’ve missed you.” She wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck, apparently without giving a moment’s thought to her pretty rose-colored dress.
The dog stopped barking immediately and flopped onto his back, legs in the air and tongue lolling from the corner of his mouth.
“You old softie. Want a belly rub, do you?” Amanda chuckled, crouching down to comply with the canine’s request, vigorously rubbing the dog’s tummy with both hands.
Rosie stared in disbelief and then gingerly clambered down from the buggy, shaking out her skirts and waiting for the completion of her friend’s homecoming with what she decided must be the family dog.
“Amanda. Good to see you.” An older gentleman called from the veranda.
Rosie hadn’t noticed him stepping out of the house. He appeared in his sixties with gray hair and wrinkled complexion, and those twinkling blue eyes must be a family trait handed down to his children. The man could only be A. J. McLennon. His smile radiated warmth and Rosie would definitely like the friendly fellow.
“Papa, how are you?” Amanda called as she abandoned her reunion with Floyd and hurried over to hug her father. “It seems ages since I’ve visited the ranch.”
“Being a new wife keeps you busy, as well as that store of yours.” Her father hugged her tightly and then turned his attention to Rosie. “And who have you brought with you?”
“This is Miss Rosemary Dalton from Boston. She prefers being called Rosie.” Amanda waved her forward. “Rosie, this is my father, A. J. McLennon.”
AJ stuck out his hand. “Miss Dalton, welcome to the Double M.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s lovely here. And please call me Rosie.” She shook his hand roughened from the elements and hard work.
“Forget that ‘sir’ business. Call me AJ.” Mr. McLennon stood tall and as muscular and virile as a young man. Confidence oozed from him and he would be a force to be reckoned with in any situation. Rosie prayed she could hold her own while conversing with him on the purpose of her visit.
She bobbed her head. “All right. Thank you for the lovely greeting, AJ.”
“Come in. Come in.” AJ waved them forward and led the way into the house.
* * *
From his perch on the top rail of the cattle corral, Michael peeked out from under the brim of his Stetson. He’d watched as his brother-in-law’s buggy wended its way along the trodden dirt path to the main house. Was he seeing things? He’d swear the person seated next to his sister was that uppity, lying easterner he’d encountered yesterday at the Milestone Hotel.
“What the devil is she doing here?” he muttered to himself.
Had she shared that cockamamie story with his sister? The one she tried feeding him until he’d realized she was nothing more than a fraud attempting to discredit a wonderful man like his namesake. Michael’s hands fisted. His father couldn’t have thought more highly of Michael Miller.
Michael removed his Stetson and slapped his leg with it, sending up a cloud of dust. Whatever that easterner was up to, she wouldn’t get away with it. Not if he had any say in the matter. Rather unfortunate the auburn-haired girl with the stunning hazel eyes was so darn pretty. She might have caught his eye, if she been bred more a lady and less a liar.
Of course, Michael really hadn’t anything to worry about. There wasn’t a wiser man in all of Montana Territory than A. J. McLennon. His pa would spot a swindler a mile away. “Pa will catch on to her soon enough,” he muttered aloud.
“Ya talkin’ to yerself, sonny?”
Michael swung around and spotted Sourdough Sammy lumbering toward him. “No sense denying it. I’m my own best company,” he teased the ranch cook who despite being in his early seventies was going as strong as ever. The old fellow wouldn’t think of retiring, and goodness knows, his older brother and ranch manager, Jackson, suggested it often enough.
Soon as you find a feller who can cook biscuits good as me, I’ll retire.
Michael smiled, recalling the familiar refrain he’d heard dozens of times. Sammy might retain his job until he turned a hundred if his infamous sourdough biscuits proved the deciding factor dictating his retirement.
Everybody knew nobody within a hundred miles made biscuits to equal Sourdough Sammy’s.
“What ya jawing about with yerself?” The cook stood holding a basket covered in a red-checked tea towel.
“Met an easterner in town yesterday, yammering about Michael Miller and spewing some tall tale about the fellow,” Michael scoffed. “Now she’s arrived on the ranch with Amanda.”
Sammy glanced toward the house. “Amanda’s here?”
“Just drove up in that rig.” Michael shook his head. “I wonder if she mentioned to Sawyer that they were driving out to the ranch alone?”
The ranch cook chuckled. “Now we both know the answer to that question.”
Michael smiled. “My sister has an independent streak as wide as the Bighorn River.”
“Wider, I reckon. But she knows how to handle a rig. Guess there’s no harm in it,” Sammy reasoned. “Best get these biscuits up to Nellie before they’re cooled off. She’ll be especially pleased with them if’n she has guests for dinner.”
“Tell her I might sneak up to eat with the family. I can better keep an eye on that easterner.”
“Pretty little thing, is she?” The cook chuckled.
Michael shook his head. “Not interested in the least.”
“Wasn’t what I asked.” Sammy cackled and walked toward the house.
Didn’t matter what the girl looked like, she was up to no good in Michael’s books. And she best not show herself on the ranch again because sure as shooting Pa would be sending her packing two minutes after she tried to convince him she was Michael Miller’s granddaughter.
“Whoever heard of anything so crazy?” Michael jumped down from the corral rail. “Dang dumbest thing I can imagine.”
Michael slapped his Stetson on his head and grabbed his lasso. He needed to finish up his work and then hurry up to the house. He’d enjoy watching that easterner being sent back to town with her lying tail between her legs like a dog who’d been caught trying to steal another dog’s bone.
Yep, her comeuppance would prove the best entertainment he’d witness in ages.
Chapter 5
Rosie had stared in awe at the warm, welcoming home with the white-painted wooden fence surrounding the two-story log house featuring a stone chimney on one side. While climbing the wide wooden steps that led to the front entrance, she’d admired the beautiful stained-glass nature scenes in the transoms above the double front doors. She followed AJ and Amanda inside.
Rosie stood in the entryway where polished mahogany woodwork and silk-upholstered furnishings greeted her. The scent of fresh-baked bread wafted through the house and her stomach growled in anticipation of being offered a slice. A middle-aged woman strode down the hallway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
“Amanda. Oh, my goodness, it’s wonderful to see you.” The woman wrapped her arms around Rosie’s friend.
“Mrs. Sheridan, I’d like to you meet Rosemary Dalton, but call her Rosie.” Amanda smiled at them.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sheridan.” Rosie shook the housekeeper’s hand as she recalled Amanda mentioning the woman.
“Hello, dear. It’s so nice to have you visit us.” Mrs. Sheridan’s warm smile and firm handshake impressed Rosie. This was a genuine person, someone trustworthy and solid. She’d met so few people like Mrs. Sheridan in her lifetime, it was comforting to know they existed.
“Papa, we need to discuss a matter with you. Could we talk in your study?” Amanda immediately broached the purpose of their visit.
“Certainly, we can.” AJ headed down the hall. “Call us when you have our noon meal ready, Nellie. And send word that my sons should come eat with us since their sister is here.”
“I’ll do that. Enjoy your talk,” the housekeeper called on her way back to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with two rose-patterned teacups. “Dinner will be an hour.” She closed the door behind her.
AJ seated each of them on a chair in front of his desk. “I’ve been working on my ledgers. Mrs. Sheridan just dropped in with the teapot minutes before you arrived. Worked out nicely.” He poured three cups of tea, added sugar and cream, and distributed them before taking a seat behind his desk.
“Thank you for your time,” Rosie began. “I apologize for just dropping in on you like this.”
“Don’t give it another thought. Amanda’s welcome here anytime. And so are you.” AJ leaned back in his chair. “Now, what has you two coming all the way out here to see me?”
“Rosie grew up in Boston and she discovered something about herself awhile back. Now, she’s hoping you can provide answers to a few questions.” Amanda reached out and squeezed Rosie’s hand. “Some people would consider what she learned a bit of a… sensitive matter.”
“Goodness, I admit I was a bit intrigued by your sudden visit.” AJ looked from one girl to the other. “Now you have me worried.”
“It’s in regard to my grandfather.” Rosie glanced at Amanda who nodded her encouragement to continue. “When my grandmother passed away a few months ago—”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” AJ interjected and leaned forward in his chair. “Losing a grandparent is hard for a young person.”
“Yes, especially when you loved her dearly,” Rosie agreed, trying her best to keep the tears in check. “And we were very close.”
“My condolences,” AJ repeated. “But I apologize for the interruption. Please continue.”
Rosie took a deep breath. “I started going through Grandmother’s clothing and all of her things stored in the attic before they were thrown out, hoping to secrete away a few keepsakes. One day, I stumbled across several journals at the bottom of an old trunk. I recalled Grandmother writing in a diary which she kept in a drawer by her bedside. She must have written a few words before bed almost every night, since I discovered several books.” Rosie glanced at Amanda then returned her attention to AJ. “Curiosity is a powerful motivation.”
“And you read them,” AJ surmised.
“Every one of them over several days,” Rosie admitted, holding up the journal she’d brought with her. “But I found the one most interesting was the diary from 1833 which was the year before my mother was born. I’d wanted to read what she’d written about becoming a mother for the first time.”
“Nothing more wonderful than the birth of a baby.” A broad smile appeared on AJ’s face. “When young Edward was born, my first grandchild… it was a day I’ll never forget. That young whippersnapper is the light of my life.”
“Oh, Papa, he’s a little sweetheart. And we all couldn’t love him more.” Amanda hopped off the chair and hugged her father. She turned her attention to Rosie. “Edward is my oldest brother’s son. He recently turned two and he is a bundle of energy and mischief. You have to meet him, Rosie.”
“Lily and Edward are visiting at one of the neighbor’s today. They’ll be home later this afternoon,” AJ explained.
Rosie couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t wait to meet the little boy.
“Goodness, now I’ve interrupted you,” Amanda exclaimed, settling back on her chair. “Please continue your explanation.”
Rosie smiled. She’d finish the telling yet. Nothing was keeping her from finding the truth about her grandmother now that she’d traveled so far. “Where did I leave off?”
“What your grandmother wrote about your mother’s birth,” AJ replied.
“Yes, that’s right.” Rosie shifted in her seat. “The beginning of this journal has the first entry in April of 1833. And it regarded a trip to Montana that my great-grandparents and my grandmother had made. It was a business trip for my great-grandfather, but he’d brought the family with him as a bit of a holiday, I suppose. A few entries mentioned a young fellow named Michael Miller.”
AJ shifted forward in his chair. “Michael Miller from Milestone?”
“Yes. Apparently, Michael Miller and my grandmother had been introduced and become quite enamored of each other.” Rosie felt herself blushing but the descript
ion was appropriate. “When my great-grandfather insisted my grandmother return to Boston with them, she was forced to leave behind the love of her life.”
“I recall Michael telling me he’d only loved one girl his entire life, but that things between them hadn’t worked out.” AJ rubbed his chin. “I wonder if he was talking about your grandmother? He never did tell me the girl’s name.”
“My grandmother’s name at the time was Lucille Woodley.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. Like I said, he never mentioned a name. I would have remembered if he had.” AJ shook his head. “Michael must have loved her dearly. He never married. Hadn’t any family that we ever knew of.”
“No one at all?” Rosie whispered.
“None.” AJ shrugged. “When he passed, he bequeathed his ranch to me. Don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t stumbled onto this ranch that day back in 1848. I was looking for work and he took me under his wing. We took a shine to each other soon enough and he treated me like a son. Michael Miller taught me everything he knew about cattle ranching and business and being a gentleman. Loved that man like a father.”
“Rosie and I were just saying last night that things happen for a reason,” Amanda offered.
“You’re right, my girl. Truer words and all that.” AJ leaned back in his chair. “So, Rosie, you reckon your grandmother was the girl Michael let get away.”
“He hadn’t any say in it, as far as I can tell from this diary.” Rosie opened to the page she needed. “Grandmother wrote The family returned home to Boston today with me in tears and fit to be tied. Father refused to even consider a courtship between me and Michael Miller, a gregarious young fellow with ambitious dreams of building a ranching empire near Milestone, Montana, a frontier town south of Butte where Father has completed his business dealings. I’m so heartbroken; I’ve fallen completely in love with this young man.” She met AJ’s eyes. “I believe Michael and Grandmother would have married had her father not interfered.”
A Lost Love's Legacy (Sons Of A Gun Book 5) Page 4
