“The painting needs to be authenticated. I would be happy to call a friend who works in New York City. Liliana has helped me on many occasions. More importantly, she is very familiar with the work of the Hudson River School artists.”
“Is there anything else I should know?” Pat asked.
“We will need to send the painting to Liliana. It could be gone for three or four weeks.”
Hannah looked at Pat. He didn’t seem worried about the painting leaving the house. “What about insurance and choosing a company to take the painting to New York?”
“Transportation is the easy part. I use a local company who are very reliable. The insurance is not so easy. We can not insure the painting against an unknown value. I will provide a valuation based on the information we have today. After Liliana has authenticated the painting, we can arrange more insurance before the canvas is returned to the ranch.”
Pat moved closer to the painting. “What could it be worth if it is a Bierstadt?”
“It is hard to say. At auction, it could sell for up to half a million dollars, maybe more if there is a group of keen bidders.”
Pat’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think it would be worth that much.”
“There will be a lot of interest in this landscape,” Nick said. “But first we need it authenticated. Are you happy for me to send it to New York City?”
Pat looked at Brett. “What do you think?”
“Nick’s right. You need to know who painted the landscape. If the best way of getting that done is to send it to New York, then that’s what needs to happen.”
Pat nodded. “Okay. When do you want to send it?”
“I will call Liliana and see what her schedule is like. Our only stumbling block will be Christmas. If Liliana has no vacation time planned, she will probably want to see the painting as soon as possible. I will give you a call after I have talked to her. But for now, you need to take care of this painting. Do you have a security system in place?”
“I’ve never thought we needed one,” Pat said.
Nick looked at the dining room walls. “Even if this painting isn’t a Bierstadt, your collection is worth a lot of money. I would strongly recommend a good security system be installed.”
Pat nodded. “I’ll look into it.”
“That is good.” Nick picked up his briefcase. “If Ida remembers anything about the painting, please call me. Otherwise, I’ll be in touch once I’ve spoken to Liliana. Good day, my friend.” Nick shook Pat’s hand, then turned to Brett and Hannah. “Take good care of Pat. He is working too hard.”
Brett shook Nick’s hand. “We’ll do our best.”
“That is all you can do.”
Hannah gave Nick a hug. “It was good seeing you again.”
“It is always a pleasure seeing you, Hannah. I am glad you are helping Pat. When you have finished cataloging the paintings, I will be happy to assess the value of each piece.”
“I’m hoping to be finished in the next day or two.”
“That is good. Goodbye everyone.”
Pat walked beside his friend, talking quietly as they disappeared into the hallway.
Brett moved closer to the painting. “It’s unbelievable that this has been in the attic.”
Hannah put the flashlight on a side table and moved closer to Brett. “Do you think Pat will install a good security system?”
“I’ll make sure he does. Are you looking forward to finishing the catalog?”
She looked at the painting. “I am, but I’ll miss everyone. It’s been nice spending time on the ranch.”
“You haven’t missed living with your sister or being close to your friends?”
Hannah smiled. “I haven’t had time to miss them. Besides, the telephone is a great invention. I’ve called Claire each day.”
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Working on my own landscape. Who knows, one day it might be as valuable as Albert Bierstadt’s.”
Brett stuck his hands in his pockets. “Could I see your painting?”
“Sure. I’m using the area at the top of the landing for my studio. The windows let in so much light that it’s almost better than being in my own studio.”
“I’m glad it’s working out. I’ll find you after I’ve finished on the ranch.”
Hannah looked closely at his face. “Is everything all right?”
“I…I wanted to tell you that I…” Brett took a deep breath and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’d better find Thomas and Dave. See you this afternoon.”
For the second time that day, Brett made a quick escape. She didn’t know what was going on, but she hoped he was all right.
***
Three hours later, Brett was sitting at the kitchen table with Dave and Thomas, enjoying a bowl of Mrs. Bennett’s beef and vegetable soup. He pushed his chair away from the table. “I’m making more toast. Does anyone else want some?”
Thomas and Dave shook their heads.
Brett headed toward the counter, wondering what was on the boys’ minds. They’d been unusually quiet all morning. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
He turned sideways, catching the quick glance between Dave and Thomas.
Dave was the first to speak. “Thomas and I have been talking about our situation.”
Brett didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Your situation?”
“On the ranch,” Thomas added. “We’ve been working with you for more than a year.”
Brett was still confused. “You don’t like it here?”
“No,” Dave said quickly. “We like it here. A lot. It’s just that…you know…the program was only supposed to last for eighteen months. And you know…”
“What’s going to happen to us once the program finishes?” Thomas blurted out. His face flushed redder than a sun-ripened tomato.
Dave’s clenched jaw told Brett just how important the question was to them. “What would you like to do?”
Thomas and Dave looked at each other.
“We’d like to stay,” Dave said. “If that’s okay with you and Mr. McConachie.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay us a full ranch hand’s wage, either,” Thomas added. “Mrs. Bennett’s meals are real good and we don’t have many expenses.”
The hopeful expression on their faces brought a lump to Brett’s throat. He knew what it felt like to not know where you belonged. With their history, finding another job wouldn’t be easy. But thankfully, there was no reason for them to leave.
Brett slid two pieces of bread into the toaster and returned to the table. “Pat and I are impressed with what you’re doing. We were going to ask if you wanted to stay with us. On full pay.”
Dave’s eyes widened. “We can stay?”
Brett nodded. “For as long as you like.”
The smile on Thomas’ face was instant. “That’s…that’s awesome,” he stammered.
Dave cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
Brett smiled. “You’re welcome. Although there is one catch.”
Thomas’ smile slipped.
“Pat and I have decided to continue the youth program next year. Would you both be happy to act as mentors for a new ranch hand? You’d need to show them the basics and teach them about living on a ranch.”
Dave sat taller in his seat. “We could do that.”
Brett dipped his spoon into his bowl of soup. “That’s great. I’ll let Pat know that you want to stay with us.”
“We’ll thank Mr. McConachie tonight,” Thomas said. “My sisters will be happy. When I moved here, they changed bedrooms. Laura’s had her own room for so long that she won’t want to share with Lily again.”
Dave lowered his head and kept eating.
Brett knew things were tough for Dave’s family. “What about you, Dave? What do you think your mom will say when you tell her you’ve got a full-time job?”
“She’ll be happy, too,” he mumbled.
Thomas leaned toward Dave. “Tell Brett
what happened last night.”
Dave didn’t raise his head.
A sinking feeling hit Brett’s stomach. If Dave’s father was up to his usual tricks, he’d speak to the police about what they could do.
“What happened?” Brett kept his voice low, willing himself to calm down and hear what Dave had to say.
“Tell him,” Thomas insisted. “If you don’t, I will.”
“You told me you wouldn’t say anything,” Dave whispered.
Thomas might have the more easy-going nature of the two, but not today. “I’m not saying anything. You are.”
Dave pushed his bowl away. He glanced at Brett, then looked away. “One of dad’s friends called me last night. He said dad is in trouble. If I don’t give him some money, he’ll get beaten up in prison.”
The knot in Brett’s stomach pulled tight. “What has your dad been doing?”
“Gambling. He owes someone a lot of money.”
“They don’t allow gambling in prison.”
Dave clamped his mouth shut.
“Tell him the whole story,” Thomas muttered.
“Be quiet! My life is a mess and all you can do is blab about what’s going on. No one can stop my father. Don’t you think I’ve tried?” He ran his hands through his hair and glared at Brett. “When I told his friend to get lost, dad called Scott.”
Brett sat down. Scott was twelve years old. So far, through good luck more than anything, Dave’s brother had stayed out of trouble. But if his dad was putting pressure on his other sons, it could be disastrous.
“How much money did your dad want?”
Dave crossed his arms. “Three hundred dollars. Dad told Scott that his friend would hurt mom if he didn’t get the money. We don’t have any money. Mom lives week-to-week. I give her most of my wages, but it’s still difficult to…” He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.
Brett’s heart pounded. “What did Scott do?”
Tears filled Dave’s eyes. “He took mom’s grocery money, but it wasn’t enough. So he stole some money from one of the teachers at his school.”
Brett’s jaw clenched. Dave’s father deserved to rot in prison. “Did Scott give your dad the money?”
“No. He had no way of getting to the prison.”
Whether Dave knew it or not, his brother had been thrown a thin lifeline. “Where’s the money?”
“He put mom’s money back in the grocery jar. He was worried she’d see it was missing. But he’s still got his teacher’s money.”
Brett stood and picked up his jacket. “Is Scott at school today?”
Dave nodded. “Where are you going?”
“We’re heading into town to see your brother. He can tell us what he’s going to do with the stolen money. Then we’ll visit the police. There has to be a way of stopping your father.”
Dave’s eyes widened. “What if his teacher knows the money is missing? Scott can’t get into trouble. He wants to go to college and do an engineering degree. He won’t get any scholarships with a criminal record.”
Thomas scowled. “He should have thought of that before he stole the money.”
Dave lunged for Thomas.
Brett grabbed hold of Dave’s arm, barely managing to hold him back. “That’s enough! Violence doesn’t solve anything. Get your jacket and meet me in the truck. Thomas, find Mrs. Bennett. She’ll have some chores waiting for you. Tell her we’ll be back before dinner time.”
“Sure, boss.” Thomas took his bowl across to the dishwasher. He stayed in the kitchen until he heard Dave slam the front door. “I didn’t mean to make him angry.”
“You did the right thing,” Brett said. “Scott needs more help than Dave can handle on his own.”
Thomas dried his hand on a dishtowel. “I’ll go and see Mrs. Bennett. I hope Scott doesn’t get into too much trouble.”
“So do I,” Brett said as he left the kitchen. It would be a giant step backward for everyone if that happened. Dave had been trying to hold his family together, to make up for his father’s violent temper and self-inflicted addictions. But no matter which way he looked at it, Scott needed more help than his brother could give him.
***
Hannah wiped her paintbrush and leaned back, stretching her back until each bone clicked into place. If she’d looked at the time, she would have stopped painting a couple of hours ago. But tonight, common sense had taken a back seat to the need to create, to finish what she’d started so many months before.
Her brush had glided across the canvas, layering color upon color. Brown, earthy tones became more subtle; blues as pure as the ocean had lifted into aquamarine and teal. She’d brought life to the mountains and lake, letting them spin a tale of their own making across the canvas. The painting would be her wedding gift to Holly and Daniel.
The stairs behind her creaked and she turned, expecting to see Pat.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Brett’s voice was deep and smooth. “It’s after eleven o’clock. I wasn’t sure whether you were still awake or if you’d forgotten to turn off the light.”
“I think I’m still awake.” She pinched her arm and smiled. “Definitely awake. Did you finish what you needed to do in town?’
Brett pulled out a chair and sat down. Deep lines of exhaustion creased his face. “Did anyone tell you why I was there?”
“Thomas had dinner with us and said something about Dave and his family. Are they all right?”
“As all right as they’re ever going to be. Dave’s brother stole some money to pay his dad’s gambling debts.”
“That’s terrible.”
Brett sighed. “It gets worse. Dave’s dad is in prison. Over the last six months, he’s been harassing his wife and sons. They’re terrified of him.”
“Have they spoken to the police?”
“They have now.”
Hannah picked up another brush and slowly rubbed the bristles with a piece of old newspaper. She knew how difficult it was to ask for help, to trust that someone else had your best interests at heart. “What plan have the police put in place?”
“Dave’s father isn’t allowed any contact with his family. The police have arrested another man who threatened Dave’s brother and they’ll investigate the gambling.”
Hannah shivered. She pulled on a sweater, but it wasn’t the cold that made her tremble. Sometimes memories snuck up on her, reminding her that she would never be free from her past. “How is Dave’s brother?”
“He’s scared but okay. The money Scott stole was from a teacher at his school. Fortunately, they accepted his apology and didn’t call the police.”
“He was lucky.”
“He’s a good student. He’d never been in trouble before.” Brett tilted his head to the side. “Do you know someone who was in trouble with the police?”
Hannah looked down at her brush. “My dad has been in and out of prison for most of his life.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, locking away the hurt like she always did. “I haven’t spoken to him in years.” She wasn’t going to add that she’d moved from Boston to get away from him. He was bad news, and her mom was worse when she was around him. “You must be tired.”
“You could say that. I tried to sleep, but there are too many things running around inside my head.”
“So you came to investigate the light?”
Brett’s steady gaze bored into her until she looked away. “I was hoping you were still awake.”
“Why?” Hannah hoped her voice didn’t sound as breathless as she thought it did.
“I wanted to see your painting. And talk. But it looks as though you’re packing everything away.”
“Nearly. I haven’t painted for this long in ages. It feels wonderful.” She moved away from her easel and waved her hand in front of her canvas. “It isn’t finished, but it’s close. What do you think?”
Brett moved out of his chair, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. “Wow. When you said you
liked painting, I didn’t expect to see something like this.”
Hannah bit her bottom lip. She’d never been this nervous about anyone’s reaction to her paintings. “Do you like it?”
He pulled his gaze off the canvas. “Are you kidding? It’s amazing.”
She let go of her breath. “I usually paint abstract landscapes, but I wanted to experiment with stronger colors and shapes. I’m giving this painting to my friends for their wedding gift. It’s Emerald Lake.”
“As in the Emerald Lake that’s about twenty minutes from here?”
“Have you been there?”
For the first time that night, Brett smiled. “I went to a barbecue at Jacob Green’s property.”
“He lives three houses away from my friends. You might have met Holly and Daniel at his barbecue.”
“I could have. It was a few months ago.” He studied the painting, moving forward for a closer look at the sunlight peeking through the clouds. “How did you make the clouds look so fluffy?”
Hannah smiled. “It’s all in the way I hold my tongue.”
“Your tongue?”
Her smile grew wider. “When I was little, my sister used to tell me that a real artist can make magic by holding their tongue the right way. I spent hours in front of the mirror, learning how to curl my tongue.”
“Because you wanted to be a real artist?”
“Sort of. Claire and I were very competitive. She could already curl her tongue. Watch.” Hannah poked out her tongue and rolled the edges into the center. “I’m a real artist now.”
“That’s quite a skill you’ve mastered.”
“It was almost as hard as learning how to mix paint colors. Talking about paint, I’d better clean the rest of my brushes. If you’d like a cup of coffee, there’s a coffee pot on the table over there.”
Brett headed across to the far side of the landing. “It’s just as well Pat’s bedroom is downstairs. He might think we’re having a party without him.”
“He went to bed early. I think the drive into Bozeman makes him more tired than he likes to admit.”
“Pat’s stubborn. He’s been thinking about moving into town for more than a year, but he doesn’t want to leave the ranch. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
The Gift (The Protectors Book 6) Page 8
