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

by Brenda Sinclair

  Chapter 16

  Anna suffered an exhausting trip by buggy driven by the ranch hand from the Double M who’d been assigned to accompany her. Still miles from their destination, buckets of rain had pummeled them and the wind whipped her parasol right out of her hands, sending it flying into the air and out of sight in seconds. With no protection from the elements, she’d arrived in Butte, drenched to the skin and madder than a wet hen.

  Shortly after finally reaching their destination, Anna settled into her accommodations at the Copper City Hotel. Resembling a half-drowned cat on arrival, Anna considered it a wonder she hadn’t been refused a room. Thankfully, there’d been a suitable one available.

  Every bone in her body had hurt, and every muscle had ached. The hot bath provided by the hotel and the change of clothes had saved her life. She partook of a delicious supper in the hotel dining room, and after inquiring about the name of a reputable lawyer—Randolph Barnes came highly recommended by the hotel clerk—she returned to her room.

  Being in a more amicable mood this morning, Anna strode down the sidewalk, intent on consulting with Mr. Barnes at his office. With any luck, she would successfully retain his services for her fight to see justice done regarding her late father’s ranch.

  She’d dressed in her best traveling suit complete with the stylish feathered hat she’d bought just prior to leaving Boston. She wasn’t certain if the ladies residing in Butte followed the latest fashions, but she intended to present herself in the best possible light.

  Clutching her reticule in her hands, she strode down the sidewalk, and her buttoned boots tapped out a steady rhythm as she searched for the office. She slowed her pace when she spotted the sign BARNES AND SON LAW OFFICE painted on the side of a brick building up ahead. As she approached, an identical sign on the front of the building ensured her she’d found the fellow’s place of business. Anna took a deep breath before entering through the heavy wooden door. A bell tinkled above the transom as she entered.

  A gray-haired, middle-aged woman, seated at a small oak desk, looked up. “Good morning. How may I help you?” she inquired, smiling.

  “Good morning. I’d appreciate a few minutes of Mr. Barnes’ time. I’ve a matter to discuss with him.” Anna strode to the front of the desk.

  “May I have your name, please?”

  “Mrs. Anna Wentworth Dalton. From Boston. I’m in Montana regarding… a personal matter,” she hedged. She’d long ago learned that offering the string of surnames attached to her identity often ensured better service.

  “Wait here, please. I’ll speak with Mr. Barnes and inquire if he’s able to spare you a few minutes.” The woman disappeared down a long hallway.

  Anna gazed around the office, noticing several plants blooming profusely, lined along a wide windowsill. Heavy, leather upholstered chairs filled the waiting area. The woman’s desktop appeared neat and organized, and a floor-to-ceiling wooden document file box stood along the far wall. Judging by first impressions, Anna considered the law office well run.

  “Mr. Barnes will see you right away,” the woman informed Anna.

  She startled. Lost in the examination of her surroundings, she hadn’t heard the woman return. “Thank you. I appreciate him accommodating me without an appointment.”

  The woman led the way down the hallway again, her step quite spritely for someone her age. She stepped aside, permitting Anna’s entrance to her boss’s office. “Here we are,” she announced in a singsong manner.

  Anna stepped across the threshold and felt her jaw drop. The gentleman behind the desk appeared eighty years of age if he was a day. He peered at her over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles, squinting slightly. “Good morning, Mrs. um…”

  “Dalton. Anna Dalton,” she reminded him. Surely, he should recall her name if the woman at the desk told him a minute ago. Unless, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Mrs. Dalton,” he greeted her as he attempted to clamber out of his chair.

  “Please, no need to get up.” Anna waved him back into his seat.

  The old fellow pointed to the chair across from him. “Please sit down and tell me why you’ve dropped by the office.”

  “Certainly. Thank you.” Anna settled herself on the ladder-backed chair and rested her reticule on her lap. She’d traveled with a considerable sum of cash and thanked herself for the forethought, now that it appeared she’d be hiring a lawyer.

  “Would you like some coffee or tea?” the woman inquired.

  “Thank you, but none for me.” Anna replied immediately.

  The woman turned her attention to her boss. “Mr. Barnes, would you like something?”

  He waved his hand. “No, Dorothy. Please close the door behind yourself.”

  The woman nodded and left them alone.

  “Now, Mrs. Dalton, how can I help you?” He leaned back in his chair, resting his clasped hands on his rotund middle, appearing quite comfortable.

  Anna considered it prudent to rush through her explanation for fear the old fellow dozed off during the telling. “I’m here about a misjustice concerning the settlement of an estate. I’ve recently discovered the name of my biological father, and I believe someone else inherited property that should rightfully have been mine.” She continued with her explanation, revealing all that had occurred concerning Michael Miller during the early days of the Double M Ranch. She also elaborated on the issue of her mother’s involvement with Mr. Miller, despite the embarrassing confession that would confirm her conception out of wedlock. But the fellow appeared professional and sharing the sensitive information couldn’t be helped.

  Mr. Barnes remained silent throughout Anna’s entire explanation which bordered on a diatribe as she failed to contain her emotions. She couldn’t suppress her anger, but she would ensure justice was served for her father’s sake. And her own, of course. And for Rosemary’s best interests whether she realized it or not at present. Having almost worn herself out with the extensive description of events surrounding the situation, Anna hoped her attempt at relating the facts was sufficient to convince Mr. Barnes to represent her.

  The old fellow continued to squint at her from behind the desk. He hadn’t taken a single note or scribbled one word on the papers in front of him while she’d spoken, and considering his possible questionable memory concerning her name, Anna wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t be repeating the entire story again.

  “Do you have any questions?” she ventured softly.

  Just then the office door opened and Anna turned to see who had dared to barge in without knocking, interrupting an attorney and client visitation. She stared at the man standing there, a younger version of the fellow behind the desk. The dapper gray-haired fellow had to be Mr. Barnes’ son, and she would wager he’d be nearing sixty.

  “Hello, I’m Randolph Barnes. I see you’ve met Father.” The fellow strode into the room, extending his hand.

  Anna shook hands with him, speechless.

  The fellow stood, smiling.

  “You’re Randolph Barnes?” she exclaimed.

  “Yes, I understand from Dorothy your name is Anna Dalton, visiting from Boston.”

  She nodded, mindlessly. “If you’re Randolph Barnes, who have I been talking to?” she blurted.

  “This is my father and the founder of this law firm. Richard Barnes.”

  Anna thought for a moment and recalled she’d asked to speak with Mr. Barnes, not specifying that she wished to consult with Randolph Barnes. Stupid of her. And totally her own fault. She recalled the sign on the building stated Barnes and Son.

  “I’m sorry. I’d intended to speak with you. I was given your name last night by the desk clerk at the Copper City Hotel. He recommended the services of Randolph Barnes. Highly recommended you, in fact,” Anna blathered, completely discombobulated by her blunder. If the old fellow hadn’t been so well-dressed, she could have been explaining her situation to the janitor. She needed to take greater care during important consultations.

  “That�
�s always good to hear. I’ll have to thank him for recommending our law office.” Randolph smiled at her again. “What exactly have you discussed with Father?”

  “She’s initiating a lawsuit regarding an estate,” senior Mr. Barnes chimed in.

  Anna sat dumbfounded as the old fellow related every single detail she’d shared with him surrounding her position on the matter. Reciting names and dates with complete accuracy, not missing a single syllable of her story. She wouldn’t have believed it had she not witnessed in person the flawless regurgitation of facts. She’d heard of people with remarkable recollection for detail but she’d never experienced it herself. Perhaps remembering something as mundane as a person’s name wasn’t of sufficient importance for someone with his talent. Or his secretary simply had failed to mention it.

  “My, that story certainly sounds like a challenge. Especially since so many years have passed since the original settling of the estate. And if Mr. Miller wasn’t aware of any heirs at the time, then the execution of his Last Will would be completely binding.”

  “And her claim that she’s Mr. Miller’s daughter seems pure speculation,” senior Mr. Barnes added. “The entire claim of paternity is based on diary entries by her deceased mother. Entries which I would wager are subject to interpretation three ways from Sunday. Since Mr. Miller has passed, there’s little chance of proving he was indeed her father.”

  “From what you’ve told us, Father could be right.” Randolph Barnes met Anna’s eyes. “I don’t suppose you’ve brought this diary with you.”

  “Oh, my goodness. I completely forgot.” Anna produced the diary from her reticule. “I took it from my daughter’s room early this morning, and I must return it as soon as possible. But you’re welcome to read it in its entirety in the meantime.”

  Randolph’s eyebrows rose. “You stole this from your daughter’s room?”

  “Well, I… I don’t know if stole is the correct term…” Anna felt her face warming.

  “Removed it without her knowledge?” the old fellow reworded his son’s question.

  Anna nodded, somewhat reluctantly. “I suppose so.”

  “She stole it,” the old fellow muttered, shaking his head.

  “Since it’s in your possession now, we’ll read it as quickly as possible and make notes regarding the contents. We’ll have it back to you in a day.” Randolph tucked the book under his arm.

  Anna’s heart lifted. “You’re taking my case?” she exclaimed, holding her breath.

  “Perhaps. Give us today to discuss the entire matter and read the diary, before making a final decision.”

  Anna stood and shook out her skirts. “Should I leave a monetary retainer with your secretary?”

  Randolph waved his hand. “No need for that. Wait until we decide to take your case… or not,” he ended in a whisper.

  Anna’s spirits fell, realizing the possibility remained they’d turn her down. “All right. I’ll drop by again tomorrow morning. Thank you for giving this your immediate consideration. I do appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Dalton.” Randolph waved her toward the door. “Let me walk you out.”

  For the sake of appearances, Anna bid Dorothy a polite goodbye. Soon, Anna found herself standing on the sidewalk outside the law office, praying at least one of these Barnes gentlemen would agree to represent her. She shouldn’t have mentioned removing the diary from Rosemary’s room, but it was too late to erase that blunder now. Stealing the diary, as the two fellows considered she’d done, didn’t paint her in a good light. But she required the journal as evidence to prove her case. She prayed Rosemary wouldn’t notice it missing before she could put it back. But even if she did, surely Anna was equally entitled to read her own mother’s musings.

  She gazed up and down the street, considering how she would while away the hours until she would meet with the lawyers again tomorrow. She craned her neck, spotting a ladies’ wear store on the opposite side of the street. Perhaps the day would prove pleasant for a number of reasons. She set out to investigate the local offerings of ladies’ fashion before returning to the Copper City Hotel for lunch and an afternoon nap.

  She couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning.

  Randolph Barnes’ decision could alter her entire future.

  Chapter 17

  July

  Michael lingered beside his pa at the corral attached to the main horse barn, watching the lone rider moving closer and closer. The fellow didn’t appear in any particular hurry, and Michael wondered what the man’s intentions were. He couldn’t glimpse the fellow’s face shaded by the wide-brimmed hat. The horse resembled Hermes, one of Billy’s rentals from the livery, but Michael could be mistaken.

  Rosie hurried to his side and smiled. “How did it go with the lawyer?”

  “Jamieson Davies is working on it. He promised to continue helping us.” AJ rested his hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, young lady. We aren’t losing this ranch.”

  “I hope not,” Rosie whispered. “If that happened…”

  “It wouldn’t be your fault,” Michael insisted, knowing his pa was in complete agreement. Michael slipped his arm around Rosie’s middle before he realized what he’d done. She hadn’t pulled away. A good sign, especially with his pa watching.

  Rosie followed AJ’s gaze. “Who’s that?”

  “No idea,” Michael muttered. “Maybe you should head up to the house.”

  AJ touched the pistol in the holster at his side. “We’ll be fine. I don’t think the man intends us any harm or he would be sneaking onto the ranch not moseying along like he is.”

  Michael kept his eyes on the stranger as he approached.

  AJ craned his neck. “I think I know that fellow.”

  “You do?”

  “Looks like Iris’s brother.”

  “Eric Lake?” Michael blurted, tightening his hold on Rosie.

  “Who is he?” Rosie whispered.

  “An older brother to Daniel’s wife, Iris,” AJ explained.

  Michael glowered. “I thought his thieving behind was in jail.”

  AJ shrugged. “Appears the fellow’s been released from the Montana Territorial Prison at Deer Lodge.”

  “Or he escaped,” Michael suggested.

  AJ shook his head. “Wouldn’t be coming back here with a Pinkerton in the family, if that had happened.”

  “Why on earth was the fellow in prison?”

  “It’s a long story, Rosie, which I’ll tell you one day.” Michael brushed her hair with a quick kiss.

  The man waved and dismounted. He walked the last several feet toward them. “Hello. Don’t know if you folks remember me,” he began.

  “Eric Lake.” AJ stuck out his hand. “What brings you here?”

  “Got released from prison a few weeks ago. Served my time. Earned myself a few honest dollars and then traveled here to see my sister.” Eric nodded toward the horse. “Rented old Hermes here at the livery. Not certain why, but he appears to be coming up a bit lame for some reason, so I haven’t been traveling too fast.”

  “I’ll summon Willow,” Rosie called, escaping Michael’s hold and racing toward the horse barn and disappearing inside.

  Michael glared at Eric who stood looking somewhat dumbstruck. Had the fellow expected to be met with pistols pointed at him? Had he expected to be run off the ranch the moment he opened his mouth?

  AJ cleared his throat. “You looking for Iris?”

  “Yes, I am. Hoped to let her know I was released. Not surprising, Pa’s still behind bars and will be for some time to come. His attitude toward the law hasn’t mellowed, and it hasn’t done him any favors while he’s been locked up. Judges keep tacking on more time.”

  “Good place for him,” Michael muttered, recalling the trouble Eric and his father, David Lake, had caused a lot of people, including his sister-in-law. “Surprised you’re not still in there with him.”

  “Now, son, Eric’s paid his debt to society,” AJ admonished Michae
l. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Just wanted to say hello to my sister and then I’ll be looking for work somewhere.” Eric shrugged. “Wasn’t certain she’d be interested in seeing me, but I reckoned I’d try.”

  “Iris lives in Chicago now. Did you know she married my son, Daniel?” AJ added.

  “Yeah, she wrote me about the wedding. Didn’t know they’d moved though. I guess Daniel must be a Pinkerton if they’re in Chicago.” Eric blew out his breath. “He was fixing to become one last I heard.”

  “We’re all very proud of my son. He’s doing good work as a Pinkerton,” AJ explained, sounding mighty pleased with his second son’s accomplishments.

  Michael agreed with his pa. Daniel had fulfilled his lifelong dream. But what Eric was doing here he hadn’t a clue. Michael reckoned the man might as well keep moving on. Nothing but trouble with a capital T, in his opinion.

  AJ stood hands on hips. “What sort of work you looking for? Maybe we got something for you here on the ranch.”

  Thankfully, Michael wasn’t still mounted, otherwise he might have tumbled out of the saddle, hearing that last part. What in the dickens was Pa thinking offering this fool a job?

  Eric smiled. “Well, I thank you kindly, sir. But I’m not much for ranch work. I ain’t particularly fond of smelly cattle. No offense intended.”

  “None taken.” AJ frowned. “What you looking for then? No easy money to be made on a ranch.”

  “Or anywhere else if you’re looking to make an honest dollar. I learned that lesson.” Eric sighed. “I was cooking in the prison kitchen, and I enjoyed that a mite. Learned a lot while fixing meals for the prisoners. And it made the time pass quicker.”

  “Cooking?” AJ exclaimed.