Amanda

by Kay Hooper

“Just in case?”

  “Hard to be a complete atheist, I guess. Were you baptized, Amanda?”

  Amanda set her cup down and smiled faintly. “Mother wanted me to make up my own mind. When I was sixteen, I did.”

  Maggie didn’t ask what that decision had been; she merely nodded and changed the subject, talking idly while they finished eating breakfast about the guest list for the party the following Saturday. Apparently, everyone of importance in the entire county would attend, all no doubt eager to get a look at Amanda and decide whether she was an impostor.

  Not that Maggie put it quite like that, of course. The way she put it was, “you’re the juiciest topic of gossip around here since our former minister was caught in bed with one of the deacons’ wives.”

  “I’ll try not to disappoint,” Amanda said, wincing slightly.

  “You won’t. Of course, quite a few people got a look at you in town before Walker brought you out here, so most have that curiosity satisfied. They’ll be watching us as well as you, naturally, and you’ll be asked a lot of questions, few of them subtle.”

  Amanda nodded. “I expected as much.”

  “It should be a good party, though,” Maggie said reassuringly. “The people around here tend to be friendly. About half the women will bring desserts, mostly pies; we don’t have a big county fair, so the best cooks in the area have no place to compete with each other except for parties. It’s been an unspoken tradition for years now.”

  Amanda couldn’t help but smile. “Will Jesse award a blue ribbon?”

  “Not quite that, but there’ll be a lot of discussion about whose pie was best, believe me. The discussions have been known to end with hostilities. Very entertaining. By the way—if you don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings, sample everything. Everyone else will, and what you eat will definitely be noticed.”

  “And I’m not a dessert person,” Amanda said with a sigh. “I love most berry pies and peach pie, but everything else pretty much leaves me cold.”

  “Well, you’re in luck—Sharon Melton always fixes a blueberry pie that’ll bring tears to your eyes, and Earlene’s peach pie is wonderful. As for the rest, just sample and look impressed. You’re such a little thing that nobody’ll expect you to eat a lot anyway.”

  “Thank God for small favors—if you’ll forgive the pun.”

  Maggie smiled. “Things could be worse. If Jesse had decided on a country supper-type party, everyone would bring at least two dishes—and you’d be up to your ears in odd casseroles.”

  “Lovely.”

  “You may well look horrified. Last summer, the competition seemed to be who could create the most impressive broccoli dish. We had a very green summer.”

  “Oh, shoot—sorry I missed it.”

  Maggie laughed, and went on casually talking about the people who would attend the party. Amanda listened with only a portion of her mind now, feeling a growing and uncomfortable certainty that Maggie was no longer as neutral about her as she had been at first. In spite of her easy conversation and apparent acceptance, the housekeeper looked at her differently, Amanda was convinced; her gaze was more intent— suspicious?—and she seemed subtly more guarded.

  But why? Because Jesse had announced his intention to change his will? No; Amanda had half-consciously noticed the housekeeper’s subtle change toward her earlier. Because when they had spoken briefly by the pool, Amanda had casually confessed her mother hadn’t taught her to play the piano? What is it about the piano, dammit?

  Amanda didn’t know, and dared not ask. Bothered, but unable to do anything about the problem at the moment, she forced herself to listen and respond calmly to Maggie. Still, it wasn’t until they had finished eating that her full attention was caught.

  “Jesse told me last night that he hoped you’d spend the afternoon with him today,” Maggie said. “I think he wants to start familiarizing you with the family businesses.”

  Amanda half nodded, but said, “I didn’t want him to change his will, Maggie. That’s not why I came back here.”

  “It was bound to happen.” Maggie’s voice was dispassionate. “it’s no secret he hasn’t been happy with Reece’s head for business, and Sully’s not interested in anything beyond his horses.”

  “What about Kate? She’s his daughter.”

  Her face wiped of expression, Maggie said, “As far as Jesse’s concerned, Kate killed Mary.”

  “And he had nothing to do with getting his wife pregnant?” Amanda demanded, struck by the unfairness of that.

  “you’d think.” Maggie shrugged. “He had to blame somebody when he lost her, and he’s not a man to blame himself. Even if it wasn’t her fault, Kate was the cause. It’s been forty years, and his attitude is set in cement. At least he tolerates Kate now; when she was a child, he couldn’t bear her anywhere near him. I came here as her nurse, you know.”

  “Yes.”

  “It was a lonely job at first. Jesse was half crazy with grief and wouldn’t have anything to do with the child. Adrian was fifteen, Brian barely thirteen. With Mary gone, there was no one to run the house, so I did what I could. By the time Kate was in school, this place was home to me. Jesse liked the way I ran things, and asked me to stay on.”

  “You must have been very young when you came here,” Amanda said.

  “I’d just turned twenty-one.” Maggie smiled. “Things were different in those days; infant nurses weren’t expected to have degrees in child care—just to know what they were doing. I came from a large family, most of my siblings younger, and that was enough. Duncan McLellan—Walker’s father—was the one who hired me; Jesse was in no state to judge.”

  Amanda hesitated, then said, “So you’re the only mother Kate’s ever known.”

  “I raised her, but she never looked on me as a mother once she was old enough to understand her own mother had died. I suppose,” Maggie added with detachment, “if she felt that way for anyone it was Christine. Kate was only seven or eight when Brian brought Christine here that first summer—and you didn’t come along for another four years. Christine liked kids. I guess it was natural for Kate to take to her.”

  Amanda shook her head a little. “I … don’t have many memories of Kate.”

  Again, Maggie spoke with detachment. “Jesse insisted she spend a few weeks each summer away at camp, so you didn’t see very much of her. He would have sent her away to boarding school, but I talked him out of it. As I said—she was nearly grown before he could stand having her around him.”

  “That’s … cruel,” Amanda said quietly. “And so unfair.”

  “Jesse gave Kate as much as he could,” Maggie said, defending him staunchly. “She’s never wanted for anything—and he’s never lifted a hand to her.”

  Amanda wanted to say that emotional neglect was also abuse, but she said nothing more on the subject. Instead, she said, “I haven’t seen a painting of Mary. Is there one?”

  “Yes. In his bedroom.” Excusing herself, Maggie got up and, carrying her plate, headed for the kitchen.

  Gazing after her, it occurred to Amanda quite suddenly that Maggie was in love with Jesse and probably had been for a long, long time.

  His treatment had left Jesse visibly tired, and Amanda managed to postpone their afternoon in his study by saying she was too restless to remain cooped up inside on such a pretty day. She hardened her will to his obvious disappointment, and was rewarded by finding out later that he had gone to his room after lunch, at Maggie’s urging, to take a little nap.

  It was a reprieve, Amanda knew—not a pardon. She would still have to face Jesse, and she was not looking forward to it. He wouldn’t understand, and he wouldn’t be happy with her when she told him how she felt.

  Worst of all, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to convince him no matter what she said. Which meant she’d have to resort to threats—and Jesse was not a man to be backed into a corner without prudent consideration and great care.

  Wandering through the garden after lunch with her can
ine companions, Amanda worried the problem in her mind. Jesse’s announcement had been so premature she hadn’t been at all prepared for it; she had been fairly certain he meant to change his will, but not so soon, and the very public declaration had put her in an impossible position.

  Not that he would have considered that, of course. Just as no one in his house would have been stupid enough to let the dogs out—even though someone indisputably had—that first day, so no one in his family would dare oppose his wishes. Even if he was bent on disinheriting them.

  It was Jesse’s blind spot, Amanda thought. He was so utterly convinced of his own invincibility that it simply did not occur to him that by announcing his intentions, he might possibly have drawn a neat target on Amanda’s chest.

  Amanda had no illusions. There was a hell of a lot of money at stake, besides the glory that was Glory, and people had been murdered for far less. A cheerful thought. She didn’t know any of these people well enough to even begin to guess if any of them might be driven to kill—but it seemed to her that Jesse was certainly doing his best to motivate somebody along those lines.

  And it wouldn’t do a bit of good for her to make an announcement of her own that she had no interest in inheriting any of it, because nobody would believe her —particularly while Jesse was busily changing his will.

  Time, always ticking briskly away, was definitely rushing now, and she was no closer to finding the answers she had come here to find. And now she couldn’t afford to merely be watchful and wait for opportunities; Jesse had effectively removed that option for her.

  A few days, Walker had said, maybe a week. She could count on him to stall the process as long as he was able, but eventually Jesse’s new will would be ready for his signature. And if Amanda wasn’t able to make him listen to her—then what?

  Her avowed restlessness hadn’t been a lie, and the lazy stroll wasn’t helping. Amanda decided to go for a swim, and headed for the house to change into her suit. When she got back down to the pool, Kate was there, and Amanda hesitated briefly before setting her tote bag beside a lounge a few feet away from the one on which Kate had left her robe and towel.

  Kate was lithe and graceful in a black one-piece suit, and Amanda watched the older woman swim laps briskly while she shrugged out of her robe and applied another layer of sunscreen to deflect the afternoon sun. By the time she was finished, Kate was coming up the steps out of the water, and with genuine admiration, Amanda said, “You look wonderful.”

  Kate paused a moment. Her gaze swept over Amanda, and then she looked at the younger woman’s face with an odd expression on her own. She seemed briefly surprised by what Amanda had said, but then her usual tranquility settled over her perfect features, and she crossed the tiles to her lounge and picked up her towel. “Thanks. Good genes.”

  “And an active life. Obviously, you swim. And you ride a lot, don’t you?”

  “A few times a week, usually.” Kate sat down on the lounge, drying her golden arms as she looked at Amanda. Those tarnished-silver eyes she’d inherited from Jesse were unreadable.

  Amanda smiled. “I wish I felt differently about horses. After exploring on foot yesterday, I realize how big this place really is. Riding, I could see more of it.”

  “I suppose.”

  Amanda put on her sunglasses and tried again. “This party Jesse wants for Saturday—it’s bound to be a lot of extra work for you and Maggie.”

  “We always have parties in the summer.”

  “Still, if there’s anything I can do to help—”

  “I think,” Kate said politely, “You’ve done quite enough.”

  There was a lengthy silence, and then Amanda sighed. “Kate, I realize you have no good reason to believe I am who I claim to be, but—”

  “I know who you are.” Kate’s voice was suddenly flat. There was an odd little smile in her eyes. “And I know you came here to destroy this family.”

  “That isn’t true. Kate, please—”

  The older woman got to her feet and put on her robe, then slid her feet into a pair of thongs. Her expression was cold, though her eyes still gleamed. “Please what? Please understand? I don’t think so. How can I, when I wish you hadn’t come here? Things would have been better if you hadn’t come, I know they would have.”

  “If it’s Jesse’s will you’re upset about—” Amanda began, but was cut off by a short laugh from Kate.

  “His will? I don’t care about that. All I care about —all I wanted—” She broke off and fought visibly for control. Then, quietly, she said, “You have no idea what You’ve done.” She picked up her towel and went into the house.

  “We can’t let him do it,” Reece said.

  Grooming a nervous young horse, Sully looked at his brother and said, “Lower your voice.”

  Reece made an impatient sound, but kept it low; the excitable filly had already tried to kick him when he’d merely walked past her, and the way she was looking at him now made him decidedly wary. He didn’t have Sully’s inborn knack of gentling horses—the opposite, if anything; he seemed to make them as jumpy as they made him.

  “Just how do you propose we stop him?” Sully asked.

  “There has to be a way we can do it. You know as well as I do that he means to cut us out, probably all the way.” Reece moved restlessly, but kept his distance from the young horse. Standing in the doorway of the tack room, he fiddled with a bridle hanging on a hook, and absently drew a finger across a dusty shelf holding brushes.

  Sully dropped the brush he was using into a carrying tray and looked at his older brother, one hand still stroking the horse. “He could leave everything to a home for aged cats and we couldn’t do anything about it. Besides, if you’re surprised he means Amanda to inherit, all I can say is I’m not.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you? Come off it, Sully. This is me, remember? I know how badly you want Glory. Even if you think you could stand her running things around here, what happens if she decides to sell out? You couldn’t afford to buy the house or stables any more than I could afford the rest. We could both be out on our asses watching strangers here.”

  “She wouldn’t sell Glory. Nobody would.”

  Reece uttered a short laugh. “Just because you think Glory is the center of the universe doesn’t mean everybody else believes that. Even if she is the real Amanda, she hasn’t been anywhere near this place in twenty years—and I very much doubt that Christine offered any glowing recommendations. To our dear cousin, this place is no more than a cash cow.”

  Sully picked up another brush and continued grooming the horse, his gentle hands and low voice in stark contrast to the black scowl on his harsh face. “I don’t believe that. Not if she has a drop of Daulton blood in her veins.”

  “Yeah, well, I say she doesn’t.”

  “The DNA tests will tell us that.”

  Reece shrugged. “Maybe—and maybe not. If you’ll remember, we were warned the test might not be conclusive no matter who she is. And in case you haven’t noticed, the old man isn’t waiting for the results. He’s changing his will now.”

  “It isn’t a done deal, not yet. Walker’s bound to drag out the paperwork as long as he can; he’s no happier about it than we are.”

  “And in the meantime—what? We wait for providence to step in and cause sweet Amanda to trip and fall down the stairs?”

  “Very funny.”

  “Then what? Jesse hasn’t changed his mind about anything since he initially took Nixon’s part in Watergate, and he didn’t change his mind about him until after the resignation. He won’t change his mind about her, or his will, not without a hell of a lot of proof she’s a phoney. And once he signs the will, we’re out. I told you what I heard outside Jesse’s study last night; breaking the will in court will be next to impossible if he writes all those damned letters and talks to everybody in the county.”

  “I’ve never known anybody to keep Jesse from talking,” Sully said without much humor. “And it’s a federal offens
e to intercept the mail.”

  “Be serious. We have to stop this.”

  Finished with the grooming, Sully stabled the young horse in silence, then went past Reece into the tack room to put away the tray of brushes.

  “Well, say something,” Reece ordered angrily.

  “What the hell do you want me to say?” Sully was no less angry. “I know damn well I can’t persuade Jesse to change his mind, and I seriously doubt you can. So? If you have any bright ideas, I’d love to hear them.”

  “Maybe we should look at the problem from a different angle,” Reece said. “If changing Jesse’s mind won’t work, then we concentrate on Amanda.”

  “And just politely ask her to give up Glory and the business when she inherits?”

  “Don’t be a fool. We have to find a way to prove she’s a liar and a cheat.”

  “We don’t know that she is,” Sully pointed out dryly.

  “Oh, come on—you don’t really believe she’s the real Amanda? Appearing out of nowhere after twenty years and conveniently just before the old man cashes in his chips? For God’s sake, look at her. There isn’t a Daulton on the entire family tree who was under five foot eight, male or female. She didn’t get that pale skin from the Daultons, and Christine turned brown if you just mentioned sunlight.”

  “I don’t remember,” Sully said.

  “Well, I do. Besides, it’s obvious in the painting and in all those photos Jesse has. No, our little pretender is not who she claims to be.”

  “You can’t know that, Reece.”

  “Can’t I? Have you noticed that she’s a southpaw?”

  Sully frowned. “No, but so what?”

  “Amanda was right-handed.”

  Sully’s frown deepened. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “And nobody but you noticed?”

  Reece shrugged. “Apparently nobody’s thought of it—probably because everyone’s attention’s been on the so-called science of the DNA test. I only remember because there was a lot of rain that last summer, and Amanda was always off in a corner somewhere drawing horses. Right-handed.”