by Griggs, Winnie; Pleiter, Allie; Hale, Deborah; Nelson, Jessica
Drum’s nephew took a seat behind the desk and waved them to the other chairs. Mitch seated Ivy, and he and Adam sat on either side of her.
“So, let’s get to it,” Carter said. “What are the terms of this new will?”
Adam folded his hands over the file in his lap. “First, I need to give you some history. Have you heard of Robert Feagan?” When Carter shook his head, Adam gave a quick rundown of the partnership agreement, Drum’s actions after Mr. Feagan’s death and his recent crisis of conscience.
Mitch watched Carter, noting his deepening displeasure. Apparently Carter was getting an idea of where the conversation was headed.
When Adam finished his story, he pulled a paper from the file. “Drum amended his will to indicate that if Robert Feagan’s child had survived, and could prove her paternity, she was entitled to a portion of the estate.”
Carter’s posture was fencepost stiff. “If all this were true, Uncle Drum would have told me.”
“Your uncle didn’t want to say anything to you until he learned whether the heir was still alive.” Adam’s tone and expression remained businesslike. “I assure you, there is no subterfuge here—he did amend his will. He also instructed me to tell you that you would find his copy of the will folded in the pages of his Bible.”
Carter made no move to verify the presence of that copy. “Uncle Drum is barely in the ground and already someone is trying to stake a claim on this place.”
“I’m truly sorry for your loss,” Ivy said softly. “And I agree the timing ain’t the best. But, and I mean no disrespect by this, the timing is your uncle’s, since he only recently contacted me.”
How did she manage to sound so understanding, Mitch wondered, when faced with blatant hostility?
Carter stared at her a moment without responding, then turned back to Adam. “What if I wanted to contest the will?” he asked.
Mitch stiffened at this hint that Drum’s nephew would attempt to keep Ivy’s portion of the estate from her.
Adam, however, merely pulled out another document. “That’s your right, of course. But Drum gave me his copy of the partnership agreement between himself and Robert Feagan. So, whether he added Miss Feagan to his will or not, she has a legitimate claim on the estate.”
Carter’s jaw tightened and his brow drew down, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve heard Uncle Drum talk about the early years of the ranch. That agreement, if it’s legitimate, was drawn up when this place was barely more than rock-strewn dirt and scrub, and the herd that ran here could be contained in a small pen.”
“Be that as it may, Miss Feagan still has a rightful claim.”
“Rightful.” Carter looked as if he wanted to spit the words. “There’s been a lot of blood, sweat and tears poured into this place over the past twenty-one years, and Robert Feagan—” he cast a quick, hostile look Ivy’s way “—not to mention his heirs, had no part in any of it. To my way of thinking there’s nothing rightful about her claim.”
Before he or Adam could respond, Ivy leaned forward. “Mr. Mosley, I understand why you would feel that way,” she said, her tone surprisingly polite, “and I sure don’t expect you to split this place down the middle. I’m willing to talk about a more reasonable arrangement.”
Her words didn’t seem to appease the man. He glared at her a moment, then turned back to Adam without responding. Mitch felt Ivy stiffen and he didn’t blame her.
“How do we even know she is who she says she is?” Carter demanded. “After all, from what you’ve told me, this Robert Feagan didn’t expect his daughter to live.”
Mitch couldn’t hold his peace any longer. “Because she’s not a liar,” he said. “And because your uncle would never have sent that letter if he hadn’t believed there was a chance she was still alive.”
Ivy gave his arm a quick touch, then turned back to Carter. “I brought a letter from the midwife who delivered me, and I also brought my mother’s family Bible.”
The man made a sharp, dismissive gesture. “Folks can be bribed to write whatever they’re told to, and that Bible could have been acquired another way.” He leaned back in his chair. “Seems to me we really don’t have much more than her word to go on.”
“I didn’t bribe anyone,” Ivy said indignantly. “And that Bible came straight from my ma—Nana Dovie said so and she’s as honest as a baby’s cry.”
Again Carter ignored her. “You’re the lawyer, Mr. Barr. What options do I have to fight this?” He narrowed his eyes. “Or maybe I shouldn’t ask you since you’re obviously on her side.”
Adam remained unruffled. “I have no problem answering objectively. As I said, your uncle named me executor of the estate, and my only interest is to see that his wishes are carried out. If you want to fight Miss Feagan’s claim, then you’ll need to take her to court and let a judge decide the case.”
Carter nodded decisively. “Then that’s what I’ll do. We can both take our chances with the judge.”
Adam put the papers back in the folder. “That’s your right, of course. I’ll write to the circuit judge and let him know we have a case for him the next time he comes through.”
He met Carter’s gaze evenly. “Of course, right now, the will states Robert Feagan’s heir gets half the original estate, which was five hundred acres. Your uncle tripled that since his partner’s death. If you take this to court, you run the risk of having the judge divide the whole thing right down the middle.”
The man blinked uncertainly, but then lifted his jaw. “I’ll take my chances.”
Ivy rubbed her chin. “How long will all this take?”
Adam turned to her. “I believe Judge Andrews is due back through here in about three weeks.”
“Three weeks!” Ivy plopped back in dismay. “I didn’t plan on sticking around that long.”
Carter shrugged. “Suit yourself. You can always go back where you came from and drop this whole matter.”
Mitch had had enough of the man’s rudeness. “She’s staying. And we’ll see what the judge has to say when he looks over the proof she brought with her, and learns how your uncle cheated her out of her inheritance for twenty-one years.”
Carter narrowed his gaze. “Tell me again what your role is in all of this, schoolteacher. Are you maybe looking to snag a rich wife?”
Mitch surged to his feet, ready to defend both his and Ivy’s honor. But Adam stood as well and placed a hand on his shoulder, holding Mitch’s gaze for a long moment, bringing him back to his senses.
When his friend finally turned to Carter, Mitch cast a quick glance Ivy’s way and saw her puzzled expression.
Before he could do more than offer her a tight smile, Adam was speaking again.
“I understand this has come as a shock to you,” his friend said with his unblinking gaze now focused on Carter, “especially on top of your uncle’s passing, but there’s no need to toss around insults.”
Mitch said a silent amen to that. “I think it’s time for us to take our leave.” He had to get out of here.
“I agree.” Adam looked at Carter levelly. “Think over all I’ve told you and look over your uncle’s will for yourself. Then decide if you really want to pursue this course of action. In the meantime, I’ll contact Judge Andrews.”
“I don’t need to think about it.”
Mitch held himself very still. The fact that he’d nearly lost his temper a moment ago had shaken him to the core. He’d thought he’d come a long way in getting that beast inside him under control—apparently it still had the capability to slip its chains when provoked.
He couldn’t let that happen again.
Not ever again.
*
A few minutes later, Ivy leaned back against the seat of the carriage, trying to gather her thoughts while Mitch drove and Mr. Barr sat behind them. She’d been shocked by the accusation Mr. Mosley had flung at Mitch, and equally surprised by the vehemence of Mitch’s reaction. The last thing she’d wanted was to bring trouble to this man who’d show
n her such kindness.
Perhaps she should do as Carter wanted and just drop the whole thing. Not much good ever came from getting something for nothing, anyway.
Then again, there was still the matter of how Nana Dovie would pay her debts. And it sure would be nice to have a milk cow again.
She took a deep breath. Here she went again, trying to figure things out on her own. That wasn’t the way to tackle this at all. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.
Dear Lord Jesus, I sure am all discombobulated by this. It seems wrong to come all this way and then not see the matter through, especially when this whole out-of-the-blue windfall seemed to be the answer to our prayers. But I sure don’t want to put material things above friendship, or above Nana Dovie’s welfare.
And another thing to consider is that I don’t have the money to stay in that fancy hotel for three weeks—I barely have enough to stay three nights.
So please, help me figure out what I should do.
She kept her eyes closed a few moments longer, letting her thoughts settle.
It was several minutes before she realized a heavy silence had fallen. This wouldn’t do. She turned to Mitch. “Thank you again for accompanying me today and for speaking up on my behalf. I’m sorry if it caused you any discomfort.”
Mitch nodded without taking his gaze from the road. “No need to apologize. I’m just sorry you were subjected to that.”
His voice was tight, controlled. Was he still upset over the man’s accusation? Of course it was ridiculous to think he might be interested in marrying her, whether for money or not. Surely Mitch didn’t think anyone would take that accusation seriously?
Though the idea of marriage to the man beside her wasn’t something she’d look amiss on. Assuming he was interested, which he obviously wasn’t.
Quickly squashing that line of thought, she decided to steer the conversation onto a safer track. “Mr. Mosley’s reaction isn’t hard to understand. He just lost his uncle and now a stranger comes along and stakes a claim on a place he’s been led to believe is rightfully his. And I think it hurt his feelings that his uncle confided in Mr. Barr and not him.”
“Feelings! You’re being too kind.”
She gave Mitch a reproving look. “There’s no such thing as being too kind. And all I meant was that I don’t suppose anybody could rightly blame him for not taking the news well.”
Mitch made a noise that was neither agreement nor disagreement. “Adam, how good are Carter’s chances of winning his challenge in court?”
Mr. Barr rubbed his chin. “Unless he can throw serious doubt on Miss Feagan’s status as Robert Feagan’s daughter, her claim should stand. The fact that I have in writing that Drum himself admitted to not having followed up at the time of his partner’s demise will work in her favor.”
Ivy spoke up, irritated that they were talking about her as if she weren’t sitting right here. “He does have a point about all the work he and his uncle poured into that place. What little I’ve seen of it, it looks like a mighty nice spread with a fine house. I wouldn’t want to take anything that wasn’t rightfully mine.”
Mitch snorted. “Nonsense. Keep in mind, Drum thought you had a right to a share of the place.”
Ivy stiffened. He didn’t need to sound so superior. “I only meant—”
Mr. Barr cleared his throat. “Why don’t we wait until the judge hears the case and validates your claim to worry about all of that?”
Mr. Barr was right. She twisted around to face him. “Can you explain how this is supposed to work? I mean, if the judge says my claim is legitimate, then do Mr. Mosley and I just sit down together and figure out how we want to divide up the estate?”
“That’s one way to do it.” His tone was carefully neutral. “Or if that doesn’t seem feasible, the judge can appoint someone to mediate the process.”
Ivy nodded and faced forward. This was all getting so complicated. And she still felt a bit like a circling buzzard. She wished Nana Dovie were here so they could talk it over.
Which brought up the issue that had been niggling at her since talk of this three-week delay came up. Could she leave Nana Dovie on her own that long?
“What’s wrong?”
How did Mitch know she was worried? Was she so easy to read?
“I was just thinking three weeks is a much longer time than I’d planned to be away.” She turned to face Mr. Barr. “Is there any way to speed this up?”
He gave a regretful shake of his head. “I’m afraid the judge’s schedule is pretty well-set. And as important as this is to you and Carter, it would take something much more significant to have him alter his normal circuit route.”
“I see.” Not the answer she’d wanted but about what she’d expected.
Mitch gave her a quizzical look. “Getting homesick?”
“I’ve never been away this long before.” Not quite an answer, but hopefully it would satisfy him.
Truth to tell, she was actually enjoying her time here more than she’d expected. She’d seen new sights and had new experiences in the short time she’d been away. And folks around here didn’t treat her like a leper the way they did back home.
Of course, another part of the reason she was enjoying herself was sitting right next to her.
Best not to dwell on that, though.
Chapter Ten
By the time Mitch dropped Mr. Barr at his home, it was nearly noon and Ivy was no closer to figuring out her next move than she’d been when she’d left the ranch. She wasn’t one for giving up just because things got difficult, but she also wasn’t sure this was a battle she really should be fighting.
Once they’d delivered the carriage back to the livery, Mitch gave her a searching look. “Come along, we can have lunch at Daisy’s while we discuss what happens next.”
So he wasn’t ready to wash his hands of her just yet. Suddenly feeling her mood lighten, she raised a brow. “Daisy’s?”
“Daisy Fulton runs a restaurant here in town. The hotel’s food is okay, but Daisy’s cooking is much better.”
She grinned. “Then lead on.”
As they strolled along the sidewalk, Ivy paused to admire a frock in the window of a dress shop. It was simply made, out of a pretty blue-and-yellow fabric. But the touches of lace at the collar, yoke and cuffs gave it a special-occasion look.
“Thinking about getting a new dress?”
Ivy cut him a quick smile. “Nana Dovie has a birthday coming up and I would love to get that dress for her. But she’d give me such a scold if I did.”
“Why?”
“Because there are more practical things to spend our money on.”
“My sisters always believed birthdays were a time to forgo the practical and indulge in the frivolous.”
Ivy grinned. “I think I’d get along very well with your sisters.”
“I think you would, too.”
The half smile with which he delivered those words did something funny to her insides.
Before she could form a response, someone stepped out of the dress shop. The woman looked to be in her fifties, and had dark hair and a solid build. Her gaze darted with keen interest between her and Mitch, and she approached them with an eager smile.
“Why, hello,” the woman said to Mitch. “And good day to your friend, as well.”
Was it her imagination or did Mitch stiffen slightly?
*
Mitch nearly groaned. Eunice Ortolon was a well-meaning woman, but she was also the most notorious gossip in town. If there was a secret to be ferreted out, Eunice was the one to do it. He only hoped Ivy wouldn’t say anything to put her on the scent.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Mrs. Ortolon, allow me to introduce you to Miss Ivy Feagan.” He turned to Ivy. “Mrs. Ortolon runs the town’s boardinghouse.”
Ivy gave a neighborly nod. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“So you’re the young lady who rode into town with Mr. Parker yesterday.” She didn’t wait for
a response before rushing on. “I saw you at the funeral this morning but didn’t have the opportunity to say hello. Was Mr. Carter a relative of yours?”
Mitch held his breath. How would Ivy respond?
“No, ma’am. He was an old friend of my father’s.”
Of course—the perfect answer.
Mrs. Ortolon nodded sympathetically. “How very kind of you to travel here to attend his funeral. Did you have to come far?”
“I came from Nettles Gap.”
That raised the woman’s brow a bit. Was she wondering why Ivy hadn’t arrived by train? Mitch took Ivy’s elbow. “If you will excuse us, we were headed to Daisy’s.”
“Of course. Enjoy your meal.”
As they walked away, Mitch imagined the woman’s eyes boring into their backs.
“She seems very friendly,” Ivy said, though her tone was tentative. “She must make a very good boardinghouse proprietor.”
“She does run a very tidy and comfortable place.” Mitch believed in giving credit where credit was due. “I stayed there for a few weeks when I first moved to Turnabout. All four of us did.” That’s when he’d learned the woman had a talent for extracting a juicy bit of blather from the most unwitting of sources. She wasn’t malicious, just drawn to gossip like a bee to nectar.
Still, it would be best if he kept Ivy away from Eunice Ortolon—and any other gossips—as much as possible.
*
Ivy studied the colorful sign above the door proclaiming the establishment to be Daisy’s Restaurant. It had a charming little daisy dotting the i, and somehow it made her feel welcome. This was going to be another eagerly anticipated first for her—she’d never eaten in a restaurant before.
When they stepped inside, Ivy was further delighted. The place was decorated with a sunny, playful brightness reflected in everything from the yellow walls to the flowery curtains. And if the aromas were any indication, the food would be every bit as good as Mitch had promised.
As for Daisy herself, she was as down-to-earth and friendly as the flower she was named after.
While they were waiting for their meal, Daisy’s husband, Everett, popped in to talk to Daisy for a minute, and she brought him over for introductions. It turned out that her husband, who spoke with a slight accent, was another of the men Mitch had traveled from Philadelphia with.
