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

by Brenda Sinclair

  “But he did,” Anna argued. “I was born nine months following Lucille’s return home. Although she insisted my arrival was several weeks premature.”

  “True, but that doesn’t prove Michael was your father,” Rosie said. “Grandmother could have met someone during the journey home. Or had an affair with a man immediately upon her return to Boston.”

  “You believe your grandmother was a girl of loose morals?” Anna scoffed. “Doesn’t say much for your opinion of her character.”

  AJ leaned forward. “No one is suggesting anything of the sort, and we certainly don’t think poorly of your mother. Any number of circumstances could explain why she found herself with child.”

  Anna’s face paled. “Surely, you don’t believe someone forced himself on her?” she exclaimed, her question accompanied by a horrified expression.

  “Mother, you must keep an open mind. Anything is possible. But if that happened, then Grandmother certainly was not at fault.” Rosie squeezed her hand and placed her other arm around her mother’s shoulder.

  AJ shrugged. “We don’t know one way or the other.”

  “I refuse to accept such a thing.” Anna shook her head, vehemently. “I will never believe myself the result of…” She left the thought hanging.

  Rosie sympathized with her mother. Believing yourself the result of such a heinous act, would deeply injure anyone’s sensibilities. “I agree with you. Nothing of the sort happened. Had such a horrid thing occurred, Grandmother would have hinted at it in her diary entries.”

  AJ finished his coffee. “You’re right. We’re simply speculating at possibilities. Even the most unlikely things need consideration. There’s a reason you were born, Anna, but I truly doubt Michael Miller fathered you.”

  “We’re simply going by what Mother wrote in her diary, and what she claimed her father told her. He refused to allow Mr. Miller to court her. Mother was returning home to Boston and there would be no future for the two of them,” Anna summarized.

  “Exactly.” Rosie met her mother’s eyes. “But how did Grandmother come to be with child?”

  “And why would Mr. Miller bequeath his ranch to you?” Anna glared at AJ. “That part has me stymied. You were no more than hired help to my way of thinking.”

  “From the beginning, Michael Miller and I shared a bond. When I arrived here, I was fleeing a bad situation in Texas. A situation of my own making, mind you. I was stupid and left when I should have faced the consequences. But the matter was resolved in my favor a few years ago.” AJ smiled.

  Anna glared at AJ, her expression erasing any need for words.

  Rosie gleaned her mother’s poor opinion of the man, especially after hearing his confession.

  “I don’t have regrets. Had things not happened as they did, I never would have come to Montana and met Michael or learned so much from him. We didn’t become like family, we were family. On his deathbed, Michael begged me to look after the ranch, having no idea what was coming. I reckoned the property would be sold or a relative would assume ownership. When the lawyer told me I’d inherited the ranch, I couldn’t believe Michael’s generosity.”

  “And no other family ever came forward?” Anna blurted.

  “Not a single soul. Sourdough Sammy had worked on the ranch with Michael from day one, and Sammy confided that Michael had recognized potential in me and seen my desire to excel and succeed. I believe Michael knew he hadn’t any heirs and he groomed me as his successor.”

  “You didn’t inherit this wonderful ranch by chance,” Rosie blurted. “You worked hard and Michael wrote his will specifically naming you to carry on his vision.”

  “But only because Michael had never been told he’d fathered a child,” Anna insisted.

  “If that’s proven true.” Rosie reminded her mother.

  AJ nodded. “I honored Michael’s wishes and I’ve never let him down. I married a good woman. Edna came to Milestone and taught school for a couple years. She was thirteen years younger than me, but we fell in love anyway. We married and raised six wonderful children who are hard-working, honest citizens. We built the ranch to the success you see today, leaving a legacy for generations to come.”

  “Only because Mother never told Mr. Miller he’d fathered an heir.” Anna stood. “I’ve heard enough.” She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

  Chapter 12

  AJ leaned back on the buggy seat and glanced at the woman beside him. Well-dressed, every hair in place, back straight as a poker, Anna Dalton appeared as majestic as royalty. Her unbending attitude matched the image perfectly.

  Anna firmly believed herself the daughter of Michael Miller, and so far there’d been no convincing her otherwise. AJ flicked the reins and the horses moved forward, after their brief rest by the river.

  “We’ll carry on along now.” AJ couldn’t be more frustrated with Anna’s close-mindedness in the matter of her parentage, but he wasn’t giving up on his own beliefs. Learning who Anna’s true father was had become his sole goal, and he couldn’t be more thankful Jackson had taken over management of the Double M a few years back.

  While Rosie Dalton had proven herself a delight since the moment she arrived, AJ couldn’t wait to see the end to Anna’s visit. He’d gladly load her in the buggy and drive her to the train in Butte, instead of taking her on a tour around the ranch. But that wouldn’t help him achieve his mission to discover the woman’s true parentage.

  “Are we traveling to town?” Anna inquired, gazing straight ahead.

  AJ chuckled. The woman was facing north. “No, we’re traveling in the opposite direction. We’d reach Butte before we’d arrive in Milestone.”

  Anna’s head pivoted. “I believe you’re right. The sun is setting in the west, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Tends to be the way of it, every night. Whether working out on the land or pleasure riding around the ranch, a fellow best be mindful of directions at all times. Wouldn’t want to find yourself too far from home at the end of the day, or totally lost and unable to find your way back to the house.” AJ flicked the reins to encourage the aged gelding to continue on a little quicker. Given the opportunity, old Mick would trot toward home, knowing his feed was waiting in his stall.

  “Tell me more about this ranch.” Anna placed her hand on AJ’s arm.

  He heaved a sigh. This day seemed endless, but at least, he could try to enjoy the ride. “Well, at last estimate, we’ve got close to six thousand head of cattle on the land. We suffered substantial losses two winters ago, but we’ve built up the numbers again.”

  “Losses? The cattle roamed away?”

  “No, ma’am. Severe weather the winter of ’87. The cattle perished from blizzards, frigid temperatures, and lack of available feed. We figured on a hard winter and reckoned we were prepared, but even we were caught short.”

  “How horrible.”

  “Some of the smaller outfits lost all or most of their herds and were totally obliterated. Many tucked tail and returned east or traveled back to Europe. We bought out a few of them, sending these fellows and their families home with a few dollars to their names, at least.” AJ shook his head. “Sad to see a man’s dreams shattered like that. His will too severely broken to continue. But everyone’s mettle was equally tested.”

  “You had the resources to survive, though.”

  “That’s true.” AJ smiled. “Experience paid off and we read the signs, suspecting a severe winter might be in the making.”

  “That was fortunate,” Anna muttered, her gazing roaming the view.

  AJ visualized the cogs turning in the woman’s head and wondered what she might be thinking. He probably wouldn’t approve; she certainly wasn’t anything like her daughter. But hopefully, she’d tire of her visit and head back to Boston and her own way of living. She certainly wasn’t cut out for the hard life of ranching: complaining constantly, not rising in the morning until ten o’clock or later, and dressing every day like she was heading off to a fancy evenin
g in town. She constantly ordered Mrs. Sheridan to do her bidding, often complaining to him that his help was disobedient if she had to wait for something. If Anna didn’t leave soon, AJ feared Mrs. Sheridan might poison the woman’s food or plant a rodent in her bed. He forgot himself and laughed aloud at the latter thought.

  “Is something funny?”

  “Sorry. Just recalled an incident with one of my sons awhile back,” he lied without a moment’s hesitation while patting her hand in reassurance. He turned the rig around. “We should be heading home now.”

  * * *

  Anna had never endured such bleak landscape in her entire life. The ranch appeared nothing more than endless acres of grass and scrub and trees, surrounded by mountains and a river. Not to mention the hundreds of cattle they’d encountered during their outing. The wind hadn’t been in their favor and words failed her; she wouldn’t have imagined such a horrific stench. She’d overheard one of the ranch hand’s comments—this land is heaven on Earth— when she and AJ stopped to say hello during the tour. Why would anyone believe such a thing?

  A breeze suddenly whipped up. “I’m looking forward to a hot bath when we return,” she muttered to herself, turning her head to avoid her face being battered by a blast of dust and dirt.

  “Won’t be a problem,” AJ replied.

  Anna sat in silence on the bench seat beside her host. Watching the back end of a horse all afternoon wasn’t her idea of a wonderful time, but she hadn’t much choice. Her thoughts wandered while they rode back to the house. She’d almost toppled off the seat when AJ told her how many acres of land the ranch spanned. Over a dozen times the size of the family estate in Boston which she’d considered substantial. What would the value of the ranch be? She couldn’t ever wager a guess.

  Perhaps there’d been a reason for making the arduous trip to this no man’s land after all. If she could prove herself the previous owner’s child, she might possibly overturn the decision to bequeath the ranch to A. J. McLennon by having herself declared the rightful benefactor. If the sale of the property netted her a tidy sum, she could live the remainder of her days exceptionally comfortable. And without a doubt, an even fatter bank account would guarantee her movement up another rung or two on Boston society’s ladder.

  But how would she accomplish such a thing? Several ideas raced through her mind and by the time the rig pulled up outside the main house, she’d decided on her next move.

  Anna touched AJ’s arm and met his eyes. “Do you suppose someone could drive me into Milestone tomorrow?”

  Chapter 13

  Rosie glared at her mother. “You cannot be serious?”

  “I most certainly am. AJ has been lying to you.” Anna raised her chin, defiant and resolved to her own way of thinking. “There’s only one reason he’s working so steadfastly to convince everyone Michael Miller wasn’t my father. AJ is fully aware of the fact he inherited this ranch under false pretenses.”

  Rosie laughed. “Mother, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “Am I? You read the truth in your grandmother’s own words within those diary entries,” Anna insisted. “Michael Miller was my father. And if your grandfather hadn’t insisted Mother return to Boston… then Michael, Mother and I would have become a family.”

  Rosie stood, speechless.

  “I’m so angry with Mother for not telling me any of this.” Anna paced the guest bedroom floor. “Mother kept the truth from me my entire life. Even on her death bed she never breathed a word of it.”

  “She would have been embarrassed or ashamed…”

  “She shouldn’t have listened to her father. She should have stood up for herself and pursued a life with Michael,” Anna argued.

  “Well-bred young ladies never questioned their fathers.” Rosie shivered at the very thought. She never possessed the audacity to disobey her own father.

  “Michael spurned Mother, and by doing so he ruined my life.”

  Anna sounded so bitter Rosie experienced a moment of sympathy. Although she didn’t agree with a single word that had come out of her mother’s mouth. “He never knew Grandmother Lucille was with child.”

  “He should have known it was a possibility.”

  “But Great-grandfather didn’t believe Michael would make something of himself. He was twenty years Mother’s senior, and when Lucille met him, Michael hadn’t much to show for himself except big dreams. Lucille’s father refused Michael’s request to court Grandmother, wanting a better life for his daughter with someone of equal stature in society. Michael respected that decision, despite his love for her.”

  “If he was such a loving, respectful man why did Michael compromise her innocence?” Anna touched Rosie’s arm. “He would have ruined Mother’s entire life had she not married Brighton Wentworth. Considering Mother’s loveless marriage to Brighton, Michael Miller did ruin her life. I know what I’m saying is true. My own marriage hasn’t been much better. Your father was more interested in your grandfather’s business than me.”

  Rosie had suspected as much; her father hadn’t had much use for her or her mother, always preoccupied with business. His obsession with Woodley Enterprises sent him to an early grave, having passed recently from issues with his heart, or so his doctor claimed. “I still believe there’s a good possibility Michael was not your father. What about the entry I didn’t elaborate on the details? That could mean Great-grandmother was mistaken in her assumption, and Michael Miller wasn’t responsible.”

  “I’m convinced Michael fathered me.” Anna smiled. “And I’m going to ensure a mistake is righted.”

  Rosie gaped. What was her mother up to now? “How do you mean, a mistake?”

  “I’ll see that Michael is declared my legal father, and the proof is in that diary.”

  “And what if it’s proven that he isn’t?” Rosie glared at her mother. “What if you learn that your father was someone else? Perhaps a drunkard? Or a gambler?”

  “That couldn’t be possible. Mother never would have consorted with such a lowlife.” Anna shook her head. “Michael Miller was my father and he would have bequeathed this ranch to me had he known.”

  “Mother, you’re basing your belief on pure speculation. There’s no possible way to prove any of this.” Rosie touched her mother’s arm. “Mr. Miller has passed. Grandmother also. We’ll never know for certain what happened between them, if anything.”

  “I’m what happened. Hopefully, no one in Boston ever learns the truth of my scandalous conception. But I know the end result of Mother’s trip to Montana.”

  “And you’re determined to prove it,” Rosie summarized.

  “I most certainly am.” Anna wagged a finger at her daughter. “And any competent lawyer would agree with me.”

  Rosie’s jaw dropped. “You’re taking this matter to a court of law?”

  “Definitely. And I’ll win.” Anna stood, nose in the air.

  “Win what?”

  “My birthright. My father’s legacy. This ranch which should have been mine all along.” Anna beamed. “I’m going to town tomorrow to hire an attorney. Before you know it, I’ll be declared the rightful owner and I’ll see that every McLennon is banished from my ranch.”

  “Mother.” Rosie’s eyes filled with tears. “You can’t do that.”

  “I can and I will.”

  “Over my dead body,” Rosie blurted and rushed from the room.

  * * *

  Michael looked toward the house and almost toppled off the corral rail when Rosie raced out the front door, down the steps, and across the yard toward the garden. What happened to cause her to rush from the house at top speed?

  One word came to mind.

  Anna.

  What had her mother done now? Michael hopped down from the railing and strode toward the garden, catching up to Rosie in no time at all.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Rosie shook her head. “Nothing,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

  “Nothing doesn’
t cause a young lady to cry.” He wrapped her in his arms before he realized what he was doing. Too late to change his mind now, he held her tightly. Besides, she fit into his embrace perfectly as if she was meant for him. He shook his head, startled the ridiculous idea had even popped into his mind. He rested his chin atop her head. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s mother,” she whispered.

  No surprise there. “What did she do?”

  “She’s insisting Mr. Miller was her father.”

  Michael leaned back and gazed into her eyes. “We know that’s a possibility, despite what Pa believes.”

  “Yes, but Mother plans to consult with a lawyer tomorrow. Using grandmother’s diaries, she intends for a judge to rule Michael Miller was her father.”

  Michael tipped Rosie’s chin up. His gazed settled on her luscious lips and he almost kissed her but caught himself in time. “She’ll be admitting to the world that she was conceived out of wedlock. If it wasn’t for Brighton Wentworth’s generous heart, and I suppose conniving motives, your mother would have been born a bas… Well, you know what I mean.”

  “And so does Mother.” Rosie sniffed and looked him in the eye. “She has a motive of her own.”

  Michael wracked his brain. What more could Anna want besides the truth? Wouldn’t most respectable women suppress such a realization if at all possible? “I don’t understand?”

  “Mother wants… She’s hoping a judge will grant her ownership of what she believes should have been bequeathed to her, had Michael known the truth.”

  “You mean this ranch?” Michael felt the blood drain from his face. “You’re joking, right?”

  Rosie slowly shook her head. “She’s seriously pursuing this. She’s traveling to town tomorrow to hire a lawyer.”

  Michael blew out his breath. “Well, Jamieson Davies will laugh himself silly once he hears your mother’s tale. There’s no way he’s going to represent Anna against the McLennons. Jamieson has been Pa’s lawyer for decades.”