Inheritance of Love

by Linda Ford

  Inheritance of Love

  Linda Ford

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Also by Linda Ford

  1

  Late. Again. Blake Thompson rushed into the house and headed for his bedroom. How long did it take to read a will? How long to settle things amicably and shake hands all around so he could get back to his chores? Cows and calves to look after. The tractor to service. He didn't have time for this, but he had too much at stake to avoid it. He breathed a silent prayer, Lord, let this be short and sweet.

  He grabbed his wallet and as he headed down the hall, his six-year-old half-sister, Amy, dogged his heels.

  "How long you going to be gone?"

  "Not a minute longer than I have to."

  "I wish I could go. There's nothin' to do here."

  He paused at the living room. "Aunt Betty," he called. "I'm on my way to town. Keep an eye on Amy, will you? Anything you need?" She shook her head as she concentrated on her knitting.

  "I wanna to go with you," Amy persisted.

  "You'd just have to sit in the truck. Besides don't you have twelve cats waiting to play with you?" The cats were a nuisance underfoot in the supply room but he wouldn't deny his sister the pleasure she got from her pets.

  "Can you get me more cat food?"

  "Hey, aren't you afraid they'll get fat and lazy?" He grinned down at her. "And then they wouldn't do their job."

  Her gorgeous blue eyes could be dark and moody at one moment and the next, guileless and sky bright, like now. "Un uh." She shook her head until her blonde hair sprayed around her face. "Bullet caught a mouse yesterday. He's real fast, you know." She stuck out her bottom lip. "You never take me with you."

  Ignoring her whining, he held out his arms. "Come on. Give your big brother a hug and kiss." He braced himself as she launched into his arms, squeezing her arms around his neck until he could hardly breathe.He slowly released her, letting her land on his boots. She clung to him, giggling when he swung her high with each step until he reached the truck. "Gotta go, squirt. Behave yourself while I'm gone."

  Twenty minutes later, he jerked to a halt on the main street of Blissdale, Montana, population 786. For a moment, he rested his forearms on the steering wheel. His own father had died when he was thirteen, and his mother four years ago. He still missed them. Sure, he didn't think about them all the time, but when he least expected it, pow, a sucker punch jerked his breath away. He knew it wouldn't be any different with Rob.

  He straightened, rolled up his sleeves, hung his sunglasses from his breast pocket and slid from his truck. He dusted the seat of his jeans and strode past the sign—Eugene Smart, Barrister and Solicitor— and into the office. Gene's receptionist ushered him into the inner room.

  She sat across the desk from the lawyer—the woman who'd refused to visit Rob as he lay dying. But she sure had no trouble making it to the reading of the will.

  He'd seen Rob's photo of her as a kid and knew she bore a resemblance to Amy. He just wasn't prepared for how strong the likeness was in an adult woman. Clear blue eyes like his little sister's, pale brown hair. And right now cool and steady. In fact, if he didn't miss his guess, he would say they were challenging. As if daring him to object to her presence. Fiery, red-hot lights burst in his head. He objected all right.

  He stared hard, intending to let her know what he thought about her dereliction of daughterly duty. The way he looked at it, if a person didn't have normal affection, they still had duty. This woman had neither. She deserved nothing of Rob's.

  She wore a denim skit and black high-heeled boots. He focused for a moment on the boots. On any other woman he might have thought them attractive.

  Gene stood. "Miss Hagen, let me introduce Blake Thompson."

  The woman held out her hand. "Hello."

  Tall and slender with a voice of pure music. Too bad the music didn't go any deeper than her voice box.

  Blake hesitated then took her cool, smooth fingers. He resisted an urge to jerk back and shove his large, rough hands in his pockets and turned to face Gene. "Let's get this done. I've got things to do."

  Gene nodded him toward a chair. "Are you ready to proceed, Miss Hagen?"

  "Yes, let's get this over with." She settled back and crossed one long leg over the other.

  Blake stared hard at the books crowding the shelves behind Gene, ignoring the leg swinging gently to his right. He caught a whiff of orange. Wasn't much chance it came from Gene's dusty books and stacks of papers.

  The lawyer rustled the papers before him. "Rob was very clear and specific about the terms of his will." He gave Blake a steady look then ducked his head and read, "I hereby bequeath to Blake Thompson my share of the land and all farm-type assets." The lawyer glanced up. "He knew the ranch morally belonged to you even though your mother had made him joint owner when they married."

  Blake nodded. Better than what he expected. He crossed one ankle over his knee and tried not to think of the chores left to do.

  "Exclusive," Gene read, "of what is known as the 'old property' consisting of five acres and a house which I bequeath to my daughter, Darcy Hagen." He smiled at Darcy. "There are two houses on the ranch. The older one has its own title and it's now yours."

  Blake dropped both feet to the floor and faced Miss Hagen. "I knew Rob would leave you something. Just wasn't sure what. I've already made arrangements for the necessary funds to purchase the property from you. We can sign the papers now and I'll transfer the money to your account as soon as everything clears."

  She looked remote, as if none of this meant anything to her. But of course it didn't. She hadn't wanted anything to do with the ranch or its inhabitants when her father was alive. And he, Blake Thompson, now owner of the entire spread except for a few acres, didn't want anything to do with her. She had no part of his home, his life, or his thoughts.

  She returned his stare with clear blue eyes, not flinching before his displeasure. He always got a kick out of the way Amy fearlessly tried to stare him down when she was in trouble, but the same look in this woman made the muscles in his neck twitch.

  "How much money are we talking about?" she asked.

  "Fair market value."

  She slid her gaze away but not before he saw her silent accusation and the quirk of her eyebrows, her message as plain as the bar-like rays of sunshine slanting through the blinds beside Gene's desk. As if I'd trust you. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

  "I'll let you handle the details of the sale," she told his lawyer then uncrossed her legs and leaned back. "I have no interest in anything my father left me. We've had no contact for years. How long will it take? I have obligations back home."

  Gene rattled some papers. "I think you both better listen to the rest of the will before you make any decisions." He took a deep breath. "Your father named you both as joint-guardians of Amy."

  Blake's mouth dropped open and he clanged it shut. He swallowed hard and found a croaky imitation of his voice. "No way."

  Gene ignored his protest as he focused on that woman.

  Darcy leaned forward. He was sure he could hear the gears turning in her head. Is this going to interfere with my plans to take the money and run? "Who is Amy?"

  Gene ricocheted a glance off Blake then kept his gaze on Darcy. "Amy is your half sister. Your father and Blake's mother had a child. You
r father's wife passed away four years ago so Amy is now without parents. Luckily she has two siblings. You and Blake."

  "I have a sister?" Her voice spiraled upward. She spun around and glared at Blake. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

  He let her see his scorn. "In this part of the country the telephone lines run both ways."

  Her Amy-blue eyes turned icy. "In my part of the country so does the mail, the airplanes and the roads."

  Gene sighed loudly. "Can we get back to the business at hand? There are decisions to be made."

  Blake corralled his desire to yank the will from the lawyer's hands and shred it. "What decisions? Nothing's changed as far as I'm concerned. I'll pay her for the piece of land she inherited and she can get back to her life."

  "You'll have to sign custody agreement documents. You'll need to—"

  Blake slapped the back of his hand against his thigh. "I won't be signing any such thing. Gene, make out the papers for the purchase of the land. Call me when everything's in order." He strode across the room.

  "This changes everything." Her words stopped him like he'd run into a fence. "I want to meet my little sister."

  He slowly turned around. "Over my dead body."

  Gene stood. "Blake, she has a right—"

  Blake scowled at Gene. "As far as I'm concerned, she has no right." He glowered at the woman, his eyes burning.

  She pressed the tips of her fingers together in a tent. "It wouldn't have hurt anyone to tell me about her. Does she know about me?"

  Blake shook his head. "Rob thought it would only confuse her."

  The cold-hearted woman planted both feet on the floor. "I'd like to see this house I've inherited and my little sister."

  "What happened to your obligations?"

  Her triumphant smile grated up his spine. "Your lawyer warned me I might need a few days to take care of business so I took some time off. I meant to spend it touring the mountains but I can delay my trip for a few days."

  Gene must have noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw and curled his fists into knots. "Blake, what's the harm? Take her out to the ranch. Show her the house. Introduce Amy." He paused. "I'm sorry but you really don't have a choice."

  Frustration gnawed at Blake's throat. He prayed for patience knowing he was going to need more than the usual amount. "How many is a few days?"

  She shrugged and smiled. "I'm free for the next two weeks."

  He didn't welcome two days. Shoot, not even two hours. Two weeks? No way. "What about your vacation in the mountains?"

  "I'm uncommitted."

  "No kidding."

  "To a schedule."

  "Then it's settled." Gene tidied the papers on his desk in obvious relief. "I'm sure Blake will be glad to show you to the ranch."

  Blake choked back a growl. He'd be glad to show her the way out of town. God, where is this patience I ordered?

  "I'm sure I can get directions from Gene," she said in a smooth, cool voice.

  Gene shot him a warning look.

  He knew when he was over a barrel. "Forget it. I'll show you the way."

  Darcy didn't get to her feet right away. Not that she wasn't ready and willing—except for her legs. They quivered as if she'd run all day. She ignored Blake waiting at the door, ready to take off. She wasn't about to chance falling on her face at the feet of this overbearing man who remained oblivious to her shock at his appearance.

  This...this fully-grown man was the boy who'd stolen her father's affections? She'd excused her father all these years by imagining the boy he'd chosen to raise as his own when he married his second wife was a cute little toddler while Darcy was already a gangly adolescent. That neatly explained why he didn't want anything to do with her. But this man had to be older than she. It shot her theory to the mountain peaks and back.

  And for no one to let her know she had a little sister? To hide the fact of Darcy's existence from the girl as if she could be erased from their lives?

  It was unforgivable. Her stomach coiled and twisted. She couldn't believe no one had said anything. Not one word. It couldn't be more obvious she'd intentionally been shut out.

  What did she expect? It had always been the same. Her father never thought of her. Even this inheritance promised to be one colossal headache. She hadn't wanted to come to this meeting. In fact, she'd sooner stand on hot coals in her bare feet, thank you very much. But the lawyer hadn't given her an option so she'd driven almost a thousand miles to be here.

  Blake rattled the doorknob. "Ready?"

  "You bet." She picked up her tiny purse. While pretending to adjust the straps, she gave her limbs a desperate lecture. Don't fail me now. She could do this. It was like preparing for a race. She took a deep breath and held it until oxygen flowed to her muscles. "Thank you, Mr. Smart." She could spare the time to be polite to the lawyer. And use the delay to steady herself.

  She pushed from the chair and tested her legs, breathing easier when they held her weight. But she reached for the edge of the lawyer's desk as quivering trembled up her body and settled in her stomach. Oh no, she wasn't going to throw up, was she?

  "What are you driving?"

  "A car." When he sighed, she added, "The little red one at the curb." He didn't need to look at her like she'd left her brains in storage. Her state of shock was his fault, after all. His and her father's. It required a miracle for her to walk after the information dumped on her.

  She followed the glowering man outside. It didn't take a genius to see that Mr. Blake Thompson wasn't pleased with the way the reading of the will had gone.

  Hah, he ought to try being in her shoes. She glanced down at her footwear. Or boots. She stood on the curb staring at her car. "I have a little sister." She thought she wouldn't talk to him at all but the words slipped out. In fact, a whole crowd of words rushed to her mouth. "Her name's Amy?"

  Blake faced her, his expression hard. "Listen to me. Amy doesn't need you. She's well cared for and happy. And you don't need her. You've made that obvious."

  She planted her booted feet several inches apart and stuck her face close to his, raising to her tiptoes to help equalize their height. "You know nothing about me so you can stop judging me. And you can just accept the fact I am going to see my house and meet my sister." She settled back on her heels. "Like it or live with it. I don't care."

  He muttered something nasty under his breath.

  Like that hurt. "I've never owned a house. Never lived in one of our own growing up either. I might like it so much I decide to stay." She enjoyed goading him especially when his eyes turned thunderous. "I'm really looking forward to meeting Amy. How old did you say she was?"

  His long legs ate up the distance to a big black truck complete with dual wheels and roll bar. "I didn't."

  And you don't intend to. "Fine. I like surprises." Nice surprises like a party, a great sale, a new flavor of coffee that purred across her tongue. She could well do without the sort of surprise Blake Thompson was turning out to be. Seeing him had shaken her far worse than she cared to think possible. Why had her father chosen him over her? She shook her head and shoved back the anger tearing at her throat. And a little sister? Not only had she been robbed of her father, she'd been robbed of a sister. She closed her eyes. Lord, help me remember the past is forgiven. Help me not let it steal away my joy. She opened her eyes and smiled into the blue sky.

  "Get in your car if you want to follow me to the ranch."

  She jerked her heels together and saluted. "Yes, sir." At the look of outrage darkening his face before he yanked open the truck door, she laughed. No way was she going to let him get on her nerves. Even as she thought it, a pain shafted up the side of her face and she reminded herself to relax her jaw.

  "I have to stop at the grocery store." His tone indicated she could follow him or rot in the sunshine. And she knew which he preferred.

  "Good idea. I'll need some supplies if I'm going to enjoy living in my house."

  The slam of his door shook the
truck. The motor growled to life and he roared away from the curb.

  She followed him down the dusty little street, her mind spinning as fast as the wheels under her car. I have a little sister. Over and over she repeated the words trying to get her head around the idea. Shivers raced up her arms. A sister. She tried to picture her but not knowing if the child was big or little or somewhere in between, made it impossible. She did some quick mental arithmetic. Her sister had to be at least four given the fact Blake's mother died that long ago. When had she last spoken to her father? She pretended to think about the answer. But she remembered very well. Seven years ago after he'd failed to show up for her high school graduation.

  So many times she'd built fantasies of his return. After his marriage to Blake's mom, she dreamed of visits. She waited for him on her birthdays even though she had no reason to think he'd come. No reason but her own need. Each time he failed to show, she made excuses for him. Too far. Too busy. Forgot.

  But missing her graduation really hurt. This time he had promised. She'd counted on it, planned on it for weeks. And then for every one of her friends to witness her disappointment....

  That's when she'd made the decision she wouldn't give him the opportunity to disappoint her again.

  Had she had a little sister then? Would her father have bothered to tell her if she had?

  Fifteen years ago he'd married Blake's mother. Maybe her father chose this family over her because Amy was on the way. Not because Blake was a cute toddler.

  That meant Amy would be fifteen.

  Or not. No one had ever said a word about it. Not even Mom. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her fingers cramped. A combination of surprise and anger—fresh and hot—

  stung her insides, uncovering an old, old sense of being so unimportant in her father's eyes she became invisible.

  Blake pulled to a stop in front of a building with a plain brown face of aluminum siding and a bold black and white sign across the entire front. Brown's General Store.

  Darcy parked beside Blake's truck. She took a moment to push away the turmoil inside her and whispered another prayer. Please, God. I've dealt with those feelings. With Your help, I've put them to rest. Please help me concentrate on all the good things You've given me. She smiled hard. Like a sister. She couldn't wait to meet this surprise sister. It was the most incredible thing—she had a sister. She was a sister. They were about to meet for the first time. A little thrill skittered up her spine. All her life she'd felt isolated by her father's leaving. Sure, she had Mom but somehow it never seemed she had family. But a sister made her part of a nuclear family unit. Sort of. She could hardly wait to meet this person.