“Is this it?” she asked.
“I think so.”
Anne frowned. The unpainted house looked run-down. She saw no evidence of a garden. A clothesline off to one side caught her eye.
“Dan?”
“What?”
She swallowed hard and pointed. On the clothesline, a man’s shirt and trousers hung amid linens, a skirt, two aprons, and a petticoat.
“Oh.” Dan glanced keenly at her. “Is he married?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. He didn’t say.” At least no diapers or children’s togs flapped in the breeze. “Maybe we’ve got the wrong house.”
“Maybe,” Dan said. “If so, whoever lives here should be able to tell us where his place is.”
The horses trotted up to the front stoop and halted. Anne sat for a moment, gazing at the door. Dan dismounted and dropped Star’s reins. The roan in the paddock whinnied and leaned its head over the fence toward them. Bailey snuffled.
Dan walked around Star and reached up to help Anne down. She touched the ground lightly and stepped away from him immediately. Though she was loath to approach the house, she didn’t want Dan to think she enjoyed his touch excessively.
She was almost to the steps when the door opened inward. A stocky man filled the doorway, appraising her. His damp, straw-colored hair looked as though it had recently been in close contact with a pair of dull scissors. His beard was trimmed unevenly to about an inch in length. His waist was bigger around than his chest, and a pair of black suspenders supported his gray trousers. His shirt was a coarse, linen-and-cotton weave.
His calculating look spread into a broad smile. “Anne? Is that you? Why, h’aint you growed into a pretty thing?”
CHAPTER 2
Anne gulped. How could this man be her uncle? Impossible.
She sucked in a deep breath. Though he repelled her, she must use her manners and greet him warmly. He was now her closest living relative. Or was he? Could there possibly be two men named David Stone in the territory? Perhaps this was all a mistake.
Her stomach plummeted at the thought, but she pasted on a smile.
“Hello. I’m searching for Mr. David Stone. Would you happen to know where he lives?”
He laughed, a big, noisy guffaw. “Why, sweetheart, you’re lookin’ at him.” He moved down onto the next step, and Anne backed away, into the solid bulk of Dan Adams.
“Daniel,” she gasped.
Dan touched her back only for an instant, and she took comfort from that reassuring pat. He stepped around her, between her and the stranger.
“Howdy. Are you Mr. Stone?”
“Yes, I am,” the other man said. He held out a meaty hand. “I’m this little gal’s uncle. And who might you be, mister?”
“My name is Daniel Adams.”
The man’s eyes narrowed to slits as they shook hands, as though he was trying to categorize his guest, but Dan didn’t offer more information.
Anne recovered at least a portion of her poise and moved up next to Dan. “I’m sorry, but you’re not at all what I expected.” She eyed the man. He was several inches taller than she was but not nearly as tall as Daniel. She gazed at his fleshy face, his flinty eyes, and his slicked-back, badly barbered hair.
She longed to bring out the miniature portrait in her handbag, but an inner restraint told her not to. This man could not be the same one who posed for the portrait twenty years ago. Or could he?
“You wrote that you wanted to see me and give me some news,” the man said. “Come on in.”
Anne looked at Dan. He arched his eyebrows, seeking her opinion.
“Well, I…”
“Come on.” The man started up the steps again, beckoning with his beefy arm. “Millie’s got supper ready.”
Anne swallowed hard and looked to Dan again. He held out his crooked arm. She took it and walked with him up the steps and into the little house.
Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim interior. The house appeared to be divided into two rooms, and they had entered the kitchen. A cookstove stood to the right, with a stovepipe reaching up and bending to meet the chimney. A rough wooden table stood in the middle of the floor, and a woman came past it with her hands extended in greeting.
“So you’re little Anne.” She smiled broadly and seized both Anne’s hands. “Oh my, what a lovely young woman you are.” She threw the man a reproachful glance. “David, you should have told me.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t know. This here’s Millie.”
Anne found it hard to rip her gaze away from him and appraise Millie. The woman’s thick auburn hair hung loose about her shoulders, and she wore lip rouge. Beyond that, the dim lighting left her in mystery, but her gathered and flounced dress looked to be of decent quality, unlike the man’s clothing.
“Is this your husband?” Millie asked.
“No,” Anne said quickly. “Dan is just a friend. He offered to ride down here with me, since I didn’t want to travel alone.” She eyed the stocky man as she spoke, hoping to shame him at least a little for not offering to go to Corvallis for her, but he only smiled and nodded.
“Well, let’s sit down, folks. You must be hungry. Millie’s been keeping a pot of stew simmering all day. We thought you might get here this afternoon.”
Millie hurried to a bank of curtained shelves on the far wall and pushed the calico curtain aside. “I only set up for three, but you’re welcome to join us, Mr. Adams.” She turned with a tin plate and a thick china mug in her hands.
“Let me help you,” Anne said.
“Oh no, that’s all right. Sit right down.” Quickly Millie laid another place setting for Dan. “Just grab that little bench by the window, Mr. Adams.”
The four of them sat down at the table, and Millie began ladling out portions of stew. No one mentioned giving thanks for the food, which Anne found unsettling. The Stones had always been God-fearing Anglicans. She glanced at Dan, and he gritted his teeth then said, “Would you mind if I said grace?”
Their host stared blankly at him, but Millie said, “Go right ahead.”
Anne closed her eyes. She’d never heard Dan pray before, but his quiet words soothed her.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for a safe journey and for the food we are about to receive. Amen.”
“Amen,” Anne whispered. She opened her eyes. Millie stood with the ladle in her hand, watching Dan as though waiting for a cue to continue serving.
“So you had a good trip down here from Corvallis?” the man asked.
“Well enough,” Dan said.
He looked at Anne. “And did you come all the way across the country, or did you sail?”
“We came by wagon train,” she said.
“Is that right?” He shook his head. His drying hair tumbled willy-nilly down his forehead. “Rough trip. Isn’t that right, Millie?”
“It’s bad enough.” She handed him a bowl of stew. “Pass those biscuits around, David.”
The food was more palatable than Anne had dared hope, and she ate two biscuits with apple butter and a large bowl of beef stew.
“Your stew is delicious,” she said to Millie. “Thank you so much for feeding us.”
“Yes,” Dan said. “Mighty fine meal, ma’am.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” But Millie’s smile said it was something. “What was the family news you hinted at in your letter to David, Miss Stone?”
“Oh.” Anne hesitated, trying to recall the exact wording of her letter. “I assumed Uncle David would want to catch up on the family’s doings. You see, my father passed away last year, about this time.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Millie said.
“Your father?” the man asked.
“Yes. Your brother. He was—” Anne cleared her throat, uncertain as to how to approach the subject. “Well, as you know, he was the eldest, and he was…considered the head of the family.”
“Mm.” Her host’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing more.
Millie reached
over and patted her hand. “There now, you must be feeling kind of blue.”
“Yes, I do miss Father.” Anne blinked back the threat of tears. “And then there was Uncle John. We tried to write to you, but the letter came back unopened.”
“Uncle John?” Millie prodded.
“My father’s brother,” Anne said. “He was between Father and David in age.”
“Oh, what a shame.” Millie turned to David. “You’ve lost two brothers. What an awful blow.”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard and stared down at his bowl. “Well now. I guess that means some…some changes in the family.”
“Indeed it does.” Anne watched his face, waiting for him to ask about the peerage or the estate. Instead, he lifted his mug. “Got any more coffee over there, Millie?”
“Of course.” Millie jumped up. “Miss Stone? Mr. Adams? Would you like more?”
“No, thank you,” Anne said, but Dan handed her his mug with a grateful smile.
While Millie poured the coffee, Anne studied David. His gray eyes and blocky frame told her this couldn’t be her uncle, but could she be sure? His shaggy beard meant nothing; his once-blond hair could have darkened over time. He could have gained weight, but would he have completely lost his refined British accent? She doubted that, though twenty years among rough Americans might contribute to the effect. And if a man wanted to blend in with those around him, he might make a conscious effort to lose his accent. But still, a man like that would have to be intelligent. This one seemed a bit dense. And Uncle David had surely been intelligent. Elise had adored him, and she’d often said how bright and personable David was as a young man.
If this were the same man, why didn’t he seem to care that his two brothers had died within the last year and a half? Why didn’t he realize he was now in line for her father’s title? He hadn’t even asked if she had siblings or if John had married and produced an heir before his death—or even how he’d died, for that matter. It didn’t seem natural. She sent up a silent prayer for wisdom.
She noted Millie watching her as she carried the cups to the table. The gleam in Millie’s eyes sent a warning through Anne. This woman seemed to have the cleverness David lacked.
“There you go, Mr. Adams.” Millie set Dan’s cup down beside his plate, smiling down at him. “It surely was kind of you to bring Anne all this way to see her uncle. David tells me that when he last saw her, she was only a baby.” She tossed David a sharp glance, and he nodded vigorously.
I did say that in my letter, Anne thought.
“Still in her cradle. Sweet little mite.” David reached for his mug. As soon as Millie gave it to him, he took a sip, then drew back quickly from the cup and blew air rapidly in and out of his mouth. After a few seconds he swallowed with a grimace. “Hot.”
“Of course it’s hot.” Millie’s snarl softened to almost a purr as she turned back to the guests. “We’re so sorry that your papa and his brother passed on. Now, tell me about the rest of the family.”
“Oh. Well, my mother is gone as well. She…” Anne glanced at Dan, but he was no help. He watched her avidly, but he couldn’t guess at her inner turmoil. Anne hoped the depth of her distress didn’t show on her face.
“Aw, that’s terrible,” Millie said.
Anne gulped, hoping fervently that Millie was not her new aunt. “Thank you. It’s been three years and more.”
“And do you have brothers and sisters?” Millie asked.
“No.”
“Oh, so you’re all alone now. What a pity.” Millie looked over at David, as though expecting him to say something.
“Sorry,” David said. He worked his mouth for a moment, contorting his face. “Get me some water, Mill. I burnt my tongue.”
Millie got up and went to her worktable, returning with another cup, this one filled with water. “So, Miss Stone, you made this journey all the way from England to Oregon to find David, or did you come for some other reason?” Millie asked.
“Well, I…” Anne hesitated. “There was the matter of…” She glanced at Dan. He didn’t know the whole of her mission, and she wished she’d explained it all to him on the way. How could she get around this now without either lying or giving away too much? If this man was truly her uncle, he had a right to know his own situation. And yet, if he was her uncle, why hadn’t he figured it out by himself? Her father had told her more than once that David had struck out for America because he was certain he’d never inherit—being the third son set you free from family responsibilities.
“Speak up, girl,” Millie said with a smile that seemed to Anne a bit calculating. “We’re all family here. Well, except Mr. Adams, that is.”
Dan cleared his throat and looked at Anne. His cheeks reddened above his short beard.
“Oh, maybe that’s only a matter of time.” David guffawed. “Is that the way the wind blows?”
“No,” Dan said. “I’m only a friend, as Miss Stone said.”
“I see.” David smiled knowingly and turned his attention back to Anne. “Go on then. What brought you thousands of miles to see me?”
Anne’s stomach seemed to drop away. She clenched her hands in her lap. “When my father died—well, there’s the matter of his estate—”
“His estate?” David reached for another biscuit. “Did he leave you much?”
“David, that’s rude,” Millie said.
“Well…” Anne gulped and looked helplessly at Dan.
“Perhaps that’s a private matter,” Dan suggested.
“Well, it would be, but…well, my income is separate from your inheritance….”
David looked up from the biscuit he slathered with apple butter. “My inheritance?”
“David inherits something?” Millie asked.
Anne nodded.
Millie’s smile blossomed. “Well, speak up. What does he inherit?”
CHAPTER 3
You mean my brother left me something in his will?” David grinned at Anne. “Now, isn’t that the nicest thing you ever heard?”
“What is it?” Millie asked. “Money?”
Anne shrank in her chair. “Well, uh…” She looked to Dan again, as though casting about for a lifeline. What did she expect him to do? He had no idea what was going on.
Of course, there was that incident on the wagon train, where Anne’s hired man had stolen a letter from her luggage. Wasn’t it a letter from her missing uncle? And did that have anything to do with all of this?
“I’m sure the family’s lawyer will contact you about it, now that Miss Stone has found you,” he said.
Anne’s look of gratitude made all of the heartache he’d endured in the last six months worthwhile. She smiled and caught her breath.
“That’s right, Uncle David. Our solicitor tried to locate you in St. Louis—”
“St. Louie?”
“Yes,” Anne said. “Your last letter to Father came from there.”
“Oh, of course.” David gave a little laugh. “Been a while since I was in St. Louie.”
“Yes. More than ten years. We all wondered where you’d gone. If you were still alive, even.” Anne stopped and pressed her lips together.
“Well, you’ve found him now,” Millie said heartily. “So just what does this inheritance amount to?”
When Anne hesitated, Dan said, “I’m not sure she can tell you that, ma’am. Doesn’t the lawyer have to send official notification or something?” He eyed Anne keenly, hoping she’d see that he was offering her a way out if she didn’t want to disclose any further information.
Anne seized the opportunity. “That’s right. I felt like traveling, so a friend and I decided to come to America and look you up.” She smiled a little too brightly for the paleness of her face, Dan thought.
“This friend?” Millie gazed at Dan.
“Oh no. Not Daniel. It was Elise Finster. Do you remember Elise, Uncle David?”
“Hmm…Elise…” He frowned and shook his head. “Can’t say as I do.”
&nb
sp; “She was my—” Anne faltered to a stop and swallowed hard. “She’s a good friend. She sailed to New York with me, and we made the trip west together.”
“Oh. So where is she now?” David sounded a little nervous, and he glanced toward the door as if more British people were about to invade his home.
“She stayed in Corvallis,” Anne said. “But she’d be delighted to see you again, if you wish.”
Dan noted that Anne didn’t mention her friend’s marriage. She seemed to have grown cagey and was trying to keep from letting go of any more information than was necessary now. Maybe this was the time to get her away and have a long talk.
He shifted, as though about to rise. “Well, this has been a pleasant visit, and I’m so glad I was able to help Anne find you. But if we wish to get back to Eugene before total dark, we need to be going.”
“Eugene?” Millie asked, her dark eyebrows flying upward. “You can stay here. No need to ride all that way tonight.”
“Oh no, we have friends expecting us,” Anne said hastily.
Dan jumped up and pulled out her chair as she rose.
“Now, wait,” David said. “This inheritance. What do I have to do to find out more?”
“Perhaps I can come back tomorrow.” Anne threw Dan a worried glance. “I can’t tell you figures or anything like that, but I can bring you the solicitor’s address in England so you can write to him.”
“You mean you ain’t got it with you?” David asked.
“Why, I…”
“We left all our luggage with our friends,” Dan said. He could hardly believe an English gentleman—even one who had been in America for twenty years—would address a lady in such a manner.
“That’s right,” Anne said. “In fact, I borrowed a horse from them so we could ride out here quickly. But we’ll come back in the morning.”
“I can’t persuade you to stay?” Millie stepped close to Anne. “Honey, we can make you a bed near the stove just as cozy—”
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 35
