A Lost Love's Legacy (Sons Of A Gun Book 5)

by Brenda Sinclair

  Anna closed her eyes. Images of a wooden cabin in the woods which lacked even the most basic of amenities flashed through her mind. Thoughts of smelly animals in a rickety old barn falling in on itself added to her distress. What would possess her daughter to travel to Montana on this wild goose chase? She would never forgive Rosemary for her thoughtlessness. As if her husband’s sudden passing hadn’t been enough to contend with these past months, now she’d been forced to set out on this rescue. She could have ignored her friends who suggested she search for her daughter and simply left the child to pursue her own initiatives. But Anna might have appeared uncaring and selfish in the eyes of her upper-society peers, and that could never happen.

  Anna jolted awake. She must have dozed off. “What did you say?” she muttered, straightening on the seat.

  “We’re here,” Billy repeated as he drove the buggy up to a large two-story house.

  Anna gaped at the structure surrounded by a short and sturdy-looking white wooden fence. She glanced around at the lovely gardens and the other well-maintained buildings in the immediate vicinity. “Where are we?”

  “The Double M Ranch, ma’am.” Billy pulled on the reins and the horses halted with a final jolt. “That was where you said you wanted to go.”

  “Yes… but… this is the Double M Ranch?” she exclaimed.

  “That it is.” Billy leapt down from the seat and reached out his hand. “Need some help out of the buggy, ma’am?”

  Anna patted her head, ensuring her hat remained in place. She straightened the jacket on her traveling suit and stood. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

  Feet firmly planted on the ground a few moments later, Anna strode toward the front entrance of the house. A black and white dog popped out from under the veranda and darted toward her, barking furiously. “That will be enough!” she shouted at the creature.

  The dog stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her.

  “Go away.” Anna waved her hand. “You heard me, you horrid beast. Go away.”

  The dog slunk back to where it came from. Anna took a deep breath, walked up the wide veranda steps, and knocked on the front door. She glanced at the driver.

  “Got quite the way with critters, ma’am,” he called, amusement evident on his face.

  Anna ignored him and knocked again. “Obviously, they haven’t a butler,” she muttered, impatient with waiting.

  Suddenly, the door flew open and a middle-aged woman stood smiling. “Goodness, do excuse the delay. You caught me taking my bread out of the oven.”

  Anna gaped at the woman. “Yes, well, I’m here to see Rosemary Dalton. I’m under the impression she’s visiting here.”

  “Come in. Come in.” The woman waved Anna inside as she glanced toward the buggy. “Do you plan on staying awhile? Billy’s unloading your trunks and setting them on the ground.”

  “He’s doing what?” Anna shrieked and stormed outside, clasping the veranda railing with a white-knuckled grip. “What do you think you’re doing? Those are Louis Vuitton trunks and you’ve piled them in the dirt!”

  “Gotta git back to town.” Billy hefted the third and final trunk out of the back and set it beside the others. “Enjoy your stay, ma’am.” He returned to the driver’s seat, flicked the reins, and headed the rig back the way he’d come.

  Anna stood, speechless.

  “Appears you’re staying with us awhile,” the woman called from the veranda. “Come back inside and I’ll have one of the boys bring those trunks in at noon.”

  Anna looked heavenward. At least, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No chance of any rain ruining her expensive trunks. She returned to the house, removed her hat, and set it and her reticule on the table by the door. “Please summon Rosemary for me. We need to talk immediately.”

  Mrs. Sheridan waved a hand. “You’ll have to wait. Rosie is out riding with Michael at the moment. Come into the kitchen and we’ll have a cup of tea while we wait.”

  Anna straightened. She’d never shared tea with one of the servants in her life, and she didn’t intend to start now. And certainly not in the kitchen of all places. “Thank you, no. I’ll wait in the parlor.” She offered one of her best smiles. “Which way would that be?”

  “Who do we have here?”

  Anna turned toward the male voice. A tall, gray-haired man with a striking physique for his age was walking toward her. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Anna Wentworth Dalton from Boston. I’m here to see my daughter, Rosemary.”

  The man shook her hand and then stood hands on hips. “I’m A. J. McLennon, owner of the Double M. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Thank you.” Anna patted her hair. “This woman informed me my daughter, Rosemary, is out riding. I’m not certain what that means.”

  “She’s riding with my son. On a horse. A lovely little mare. The both of them have taken a shine to each other. Rosie rides her almost every day.”

  “A horse?” Anna exclaimed. “Surely, you’re mistaken. Rosemary doesn’t ride horses.”

  “Actually, when she arrived she assured us she’s ridden for years. Went riding with her myself one day. She’s quite the accomplished young horsewoman.” AJ chuckled. “Come into the parlor and we’ll have a chinwag until Rosie returns.”

  “Rosemary,” Anna corrected him. And she hadn’t a clue what a chinwag was but she hoped it might be a cold drink. The buggy ride from Milestone had taken much longer than she’d anticipated and she was quite parched.

  “Could you bring us some cold lemonade, Mrs. Sheridan?” AJ called as he strolled down the hallway.

  “Be ready in a jiffy.” The woman walked in the opposite direction.

  Anna assumed Mrs. Sheridan must be the housekeeper or cook. Perhaps both. “If I may impose, my trunks are outside on the ground.” Anna pointed toward the door. “Do you have a servant who might bring them inside? The driver assumed I’d be staying for a while.”

  AJ waved off her request. “Don’t got any servants here, ma’am. Got three sons living here, though. The boys will bring them in later.”

  Anna heaved a sigh. Apparently, procrastination ran rampant in Montana. No one seemed the least bit concerned with the proper care of a guest’s luggage. She couldn’t tend to the chore herself, so she followed her host into the parlor and awaited the arrival of the cold lemonade. At least, the ranch owner intended to provide a cold beverage on her arrival.

  The grandeur of his magnificent home surprised her beyond belief. No cabin in the woods here. “You have a lovely home, Mr. McLennon,” Anna offered the compliment as she seated herself on a silk upholstered sofa.

  “The previous owner built it and we’ve maintained the house over the years. Served my wife and me well, raising six children, and the first grandchild arrived a couple years back.” AJ seated himself in a rocking chair beside the unlit fireplace.

  “You’re married.”

  “I’m a widower. Edna passed a few years ago.”

  “My condolences. I’m a recent widow myself. My husband passed away suddenly a few months back.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” AJ leaned back in his chair. “Where was I? Oh, yes, I was telling you about my family. Two of my married sons and their wives live here, and another son lives on a neighboring ranch with his wife. Still another son and his wife live in Chicago. My daughter and her husband live in Milestone. Only Michael remains single. With so many of us under one roof, the house is full to the brim. Noisy most of the time, full of love always.”

  “Remarkable. Our family has lived on my grandfather’s estate in Boston for generations also,” Anna remarked, leaving out any mention of the full of love part. That had hardly been the way of it with her family. She doubted there’d been one genuinely happy marriage in the lot of them.

  The housekeeper arrived with a tray holding a large jug of lemonade and several glasses.

  “Thank you, Nellie. I’ll pour our drinks.” AJ stood and took the tray from her.

  “Dinner wil
l be ready in a half hour,” she commented on her way out the door, calling, “enjoy your chat.”

  “Thank you,” AJ replied. He poured two glasses of lemonade and handed one to Anna. “Here’s to your health.”

  Anna smiled. “Thank you. And to yours.” She drank a third of the contents and then felt her face reddening. Very unladylike, but she’d been so thirsty she couldn’t have stopped herself at one sip if she’d tried. “Goodness, that is delicious.”

  “Nellie makes the best lemonade.” AJ chuckled. “Of course, I thought that of Edna also. Seems women just know these things.”

  Anna nodded and reserved comment. Having grown up in an estate house with servants her entire life, she wouldn’t know the first thing about making lemonade or anything else in a kitchen. “When do you suppose Rosemary will return?”

  “Oh, should be any time now. Michael wouldn’t miss a meal on a bet, and Rosie loves Mrs. Sheridan’s potato salad which I recall hearing her mention was on the noon menu this morning.”

  Anna glanced at the watch pinned to her traveling suit. Eleven forty. “Then I look forward to seeing my daughter again.”

  “I don’t recall Rosie tellin’ us you’d be comin’ for a visit,” AJ observed.

  “Well, this is a bit of a spur-of-the-moment trip.” Anna shifted in her chair, ignoring his insistence in calling her daughter that horrid nickname Rosemary’s grandmother had used. “A bit of a surprise for both of us, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt Rosie will be surprised.” AJ polished off his lemonade and set the glass on the small table beside the rocker. “Yes, sir, she’ll be quite surprised.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “From what she told us, you two aren’t… what’s the word?” AJ scratched his chin. “You aren’t that close. Not real motherly. Daughterly.”

  “Well, I only recently received a letter from Rosemary, telling me about her little journey here. I thought I’d join her.” Anna smiled, clasping the glass in her hand. What had her daughter told these people? Surely, their dirty laundry hadn’t been shared with veritable strangers.

  “Mighty thoughtful of you, ma’am.” AJ slid forward on his chair. “Comin’ all this way to ensure your daughter was well.”

  “Yes, I thought so, too,” Anna blurted, then thought perhaps that sounded a bit boastful and haughty. “But what mother wouldn’t.” She added the last part to soften the comment in case AJ had misinterpreted it.

  Anna heard a commotion in the hallway and she smiled when she recognized her daughter’s voice. “I believe Rosemary has returned from her ride.”

  “So it would seem,” AJ muttered and strode toward the doorway. “Michael. Rosie. Come into the parlor, please.”

  Rosie bounded into the room ahead of Michael and halted in her steps. She gaped at AJ’s visitor. “Mother. What on earth are you doing here?”

  Chapter 10

  Anna leaned against the back of the sofa and stared at her daughter, speechless.

  Rosemary wore woolen trousers and a horribly faded shirt fraying at the sleeves. She held a battered old hat she’d removed from her head revealing her hair styled carelessly in a bun. The long strands had loosened from the pins during the day and barely remained together at the nape of her neck. For goodness sake, what had Rosemary been up to? And more importantly, thank goodness none of Anna’s friends were here to witness this spectacle Rosemary was making of herself.

  In her daughter’s haste to leave home, she must have forgotten to pack a riding habit. If Rosemary even owned one. Anna hadn’t been aware her daughter rode horses in Boston. A rather unladylike activity in Anna’s opinion and something she would have forbidden had she known.

  “Hello, Mother,” Rosemary offered. “I apologize for my outburst, but you were the last person I expected to see today.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve clearly arrived not a moment too soon. Whatever are you wearing?” Anna waved her hand, dismissively. “Go to your room and change into something suitable immediately.”

  Rosemary glanced down at her clothes. “Did no one tell you I’d gone riding?”

  “Well, it has been mentioned,” Anna huffed. “I’d expected to see you return wearing a proper riding habit, not looking like a… a common…”

  “Careful, ma’am.” AJ turned and faced his guest. “My daughters-in-law and daughter wear trousers and boots when they’re riding. I don’t see anything your daughter’s wearing that you should find fault with. Fancy riding habits are for pleasure riding, but when helping out around the ranch, our womenfolk dress accordingly.”

  “Goodness sakes, Rosemary certainly wouldn’t have been working.” Anna laughed at the very idea.

  “Mother, I accompanied Michael while he checked on new calves to ensure they were doing well. He permitted me to help him and I loved it.” Rosemary smiled at AJ. “AJ, I have never had so much fun in ages. Those calves are absolutely adorable. Thank you so much for suggesting I go riding today.”

  Anna gasped.

  AJ smiled. “I thought you’d enjoy learning firsthand what my sons do on the ranch.”

  “I couldn’t have had a more delightful day,” Rosie gushed.

  “It was my understanding my daughter’s here after wrongly interpreting some outlandish words she read in a decades old diary.” Anna waved her hand at Rosemary’s outfit and then glared at her host. “So this is your doing?”

  “Mother, don’t be so rude. AJ has been extremely gracious.” Rosemary glanced at Michael and then his father. “Please accept my apology on Mother’s behalf. Clearly, she must be exhausted after her travels.”

  “No need to apologize. Your mother’s behavior in no way reflects upon your character.” AJ touched her arm. “You’re a lovely young lady, even dressed for the barn and with your hair coming out of the bun. Reminds me of Amanda when she’d help her brothers, and then rush into my study to tell me about the exciting time she had. And I’m happy you enjoyed your day. Go spruce yourself up for dinner and don’t give your mother’s poor manners another thought.”

  Anna gasped. “I won’t be insulted by this man.”

  Rosemary smiled. “Good. That means you won’t be staying. Find your way back to town, Mother. Safe trip home to Boston.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the parlor.

  Anna’s hand flew to her mouth.

  AJ chuckled. “Your daughter’s quite the spirited young lady.”

  “I’ve never been so mortified.” Anna patted her hair, feeling her face reddening. How could Rosemary speak to her like that, and in front of a total stranger no less. Rosemary had been headstrong her entire life, but her treatment of her own mother today was unforgiveable.

  “From what I said? Or from your daughter’s dismissal?” AJ quirked an eyebrow.

  “Both.” Anna straightened in her seat. “If Rosemary thinks I’m leaving already, after traveling all this way… well, she has another—”

  “Mrs. Sheridan will show you to an upstairs room.” AJ smiled. “Of course, you’ll stay with us. I’m as interested as anyone in solving this matter of identifying your father. Although, I’m afraid at this point your daughter and I hold differing views on the matter.”

  “My father?” Anna blurted. “My father was Brighton Wentworth.”

  “Well, ma’am,” AJ said, shrugging. “If those entries in your mother’s diary hold any water, then…”

  “Then what?”

  “She claimed Michael Miller was your father. Of course, I’m not believing that for a minute, so there must be some other explanation. Which we’ll get to the bottom of in good time. For now, settle into your room and freshen up before dinner if you like.”

  “You’ve admitted you don’t believe this rubbish for a minute, and I most certainly agree with you.” Anna stood and straightened the skirt on her traveling suit. “The entire idea is preposterous.”

  “Doesn’t put your mother in a good light. But don’t mean there ain’t some truth to what she wrote.” AJ headed for the doo
r. “Of course, it’s not our intention in any way to shame your mother or her memory. But the words are there in her own handwritin’ according to Rosie. For now, we’re just goin’ by what’s in front of our noses.”

  “I would appreciate all of you poking your noses in someone else’s business, and leave them out of mine,” Anna blurted. “I’ve never been so humiliated. What Rosemary is claiming would mean I was conceived outside of marriage. Father must be rolling in his grave at the very idea.”

  “I suppose it depends on which father you’re referring to,” AJ muttered on his way to the kitchen, leaving Anna standing open-mouthed in the hallway.

  Soon, Anna found herself in a lovely upstairs guest room with plenty of light amid a stunning pale blue and lilac décor. She slumped onto the edge of the bed, the weight of the world on her shoulders. How would she ever face her friends if Rosemary’s claim was proven true? Could she succeed in containing the information to the few people in Montana who might become apprised of the name of her true father? Should the man be proven someone other than Brighton Wentworth? No one in her social circle in Boston could ever learn such a thing. She’d become a laughing stock. Fooled all these years. And by her own mother no less.

  Anna splashed cool water on her face from the basin on the vanity then changed from her traveling suit into a dress more suitable for dinner. Finally, she re-styled her hair in a bun and pinched her cheeks. She wasn’t certain if someone would summon her when the meal was about to be served, or should she return to the parlor for an aperitif before being escorted to the dining room? Montana’s western social habits couldn’t be more foreign to her.