Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (3 page)

Ardith smiled—a rarity to be sure. “I need to help with dinner, but perhaps we could speak afterward.”

Her attitude completely took Dianne by surprise. Her sister was generally very reserved and had nothing to do with strangers.

“I will count the minutes,” he replied. “May I at least have your name?”

“Ardith. Ardith Sperry.”

Dianne excused herself and made her way to the kitchen. Pulling on her apron, she couldn’t help but address the matter the moment Ardith stepped into the room.

“What are you thinking? You don’t know that man. Why, he could be nothing more than … than … well, you know. A man who entices innocent young women for ill purposes.”

“I think he seems rather charming,” Ardith said as she took up her own apron.

“Who is charming?” Mara Lawrence asked. The young lady had stayed with them since the time of the fire.

“Mr. Stromgren,” Ardith replied before Dianne could say a word. “He wants to take me to New York City to play piano for audiences there.”

“How interesting.”

“What about Winona?” Dianne questioned, hoping the mention of the child’s name would bring her mother back to her senses.

“I suppose we’d simply have to discuss that at the appropriate time.”

Dianne shook her head. “You can hardly drag the child all over the country. Winona needs you here. Not in New York.”

Ardith turned a cold expression on her sister. “Mind your own business. I’ll live my life as I see fit. And I’ll care for Winona in whatever manner I believe best.”

CHAPTER 2

C
HESTER
L
AWRENCE WAS A HARD MAN
. A
MAN OF DETERMINATION
and purpose, he was ruthless and unforgiving. He was also the richest man in all of the Madison Valley. By his standards the world was in good order. He no longer had to compete with the Selbys and the Diamond V for beef contracts, and he had a healthy, growing herd to see him through hard times. Of course the summer drought had made cattle ranching more interesting, to say the least, but with the help of his hired hands and his sons Jerrod and Roy, Chester felt that the world and all its treasures belonged to him.

He shifted in the saddle and looked out across the river valley. He’d never seen a more beautiful piece of country. The rich ground was perfect for grazing, and despite the drought, the Madison River ran free and clear. There were really only two thorns in his side that continued to haunt him. One, that the Selbys still owned the land adjoining his, and two, that his daughter Mara had betrayed him to take up a life with the Selbys.

“Traitor. She always was different. Just like her brother.” He tried not to think of Joshua or Mara, but at times like this they had a way of creeping into his thoughts. Mara was a grown woman now; almost twenty-two years of age, if he remembered right.

She was nothing like her mother or father. In fact, Chester couldn’t think of anyone in the family that she took after. He had raised his children to be strong, hard, and determined to succeed. But with Mara and Joshua, the lessons refused to take. He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong.

Chester didn’t like to admit that their desertion bothered him. He still had Jerrod and Roy, and they were mean enough to get anything accomplished that needed doing. Then there was Elsa. She’d just turned twenty in the spring, and Chester had plans for her. Plans for himself, really. He would marry Elsa to the old rancher who lived to the north of their property line. Herbert Denig was older than Chester, but he fancied Elsa and had agreed to sign over control of his property upon his death to Chester. The price: Elsa.

Chester thought it a reasonable deal. The only problem would be convincing his daughter. And now Mara was interfering with all of his plans. She’d invited her sister to come live with the Selbys in Virginia City.

“Those cursed Selbys. Stealing my children.”

He turned his gelding toward home and rode for nearly an hour thinking only of how to convince Elsa to stay and marry Denig. He certainly couldn’t appeal to her loyalty, for the girl had been unnaturally distant when he took a second wife after her mother had passed away.

He sometimes worried that she’d known her mother’s death had come at the hands of his new bride, Portia Langford. But since nothing was ever said about such matters—and because he knew that if his children had any real proof of the murder, they would have been happy to mention it—he couldn’t figure out Elsa’s hostility.

Now Portia was gone as well, having been found burned to death on Selby land. He couldn’t figure out why she’d been there that day, unless she wanted to gloat over the destruction. He missed Portia but was also relieved by the loss. He’d always known that had she not died first, she would have eventually tried to kill him off. Just as she had her other husbands.

He almost laughed out loud remembering how she’d given him an account of her deeds—proudly, almost as if she were near to bursting for the desire to tell someone her accomplishments. She told him she was confessing so he would know he had nothing to fear from her. After all, she certainly wouldn’t have come clean with him had she ill plans for his future.

Chester didn’t believe her. He thought her more in need of proving to him that she was dangerous—that he needed to watch his step. After all, he knew his demeanor was intimidating to most folks, Portia included. He could easily see at times that he frightened her. It kind of excited him to know that. So her little confession didn’t have the effect she had hoped for. He merely regarded her as a dangerous animal—a she-bear living within his home. He was always on his guard. Always cautious of her actions. But still, he liked the woman. She’d been his equal in many ways, and for that reason, he was sorry she was gone.

The sound of a rider approaching from behind caused Chester to rein back his horse and turn. He felt the dust dry his throat to an intolerable tightness as his youngest son rounded the bend and came into view.

“Joshua.” He muttered the name almost as a curse. Joshua approached on the back of a large black gelding. The horse had clear indications of Arabian blood and carried himself well. Pity he’d been cut. The animal would have made a beautiful sire. The beast whinnied as if agreeing with Chester’s thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” Chester growled out.

“That’s not a very kind greeting for someone who hasn’t seen his son in nearly five years.”

“That’s because you aren’t welcome here.”

Joshua appeared unfazed. He was taller and more filled out than Chester remembered. He wasn’t as big as his brothers, but still there was nothing shameful about his appearance. No doubt the women found him handsome, but Chester wondered if the boy was capable of a hard day’s work.

“I thought perhaps we could talk.”

“Talk has never done anything for me. Besides, I have a meeting with your brothers. I don’t have time for this.”

“Could I just wait for you at the house?” Joshua asked. “I won’t take long, and I promise to leave before dark.”

Chester was curious about what would bring the boy back to the ranch he had so hated. “All right. You can wait for me, but I want you gone before night.”

“I promise you, Father, I will be long gone.”

“So the prodigal returns?” Jerrod Lawrence said to his brother Roy. He nudged him and pointed to the house, where Joshua was dismounting.

“Never thought we’d see him again,” Roy said, spitting to one side. “Think he’s come for money?”

Jerrod laughed. “He’d know better’n that.”

Their father rode up to the barn. “You finished with that shoeing yet?”

“These premade shoes just ain’t as good. We oughta take the horses into town and have’em properly fitted. Better still, we oughta hire us a decent smithy,” Jerrod said, putting aside his tools.

“I’ll be the one to decide what we need and what we don’t need. You two are no better than Joshua if you can’t follow my instructions and treat me with respect.”

Jerrod straightened and looked his father in the eye. When Jerrod had been a boy, the man had absolutely terrified him.

Now Jerrod simply saw the fading glory of a once strong and powerful man.

“You get all the respect you deserve. Don’t try to bully me around.”

Their father narrowed his eyes. “You two are always thinking yourselves too good to take orders. I don’t need the grief.”

“We’ve taken your orders and taken care of your ranch, but we’ve just about reached our limit. That’s why we called this meeting. Me and Roy are leavin’.”

Their father’s expression remained fixed—stoic—but Jerrod noticed him pale ever so slightly.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing spouting such nonsense to me? You two have a past that you don’t need folks finding out about.”

“A past that clearly implicates you, old man,” Jerrod said, pointing his finger at his father’s chest.

“You can’t prove that.”

“You’d like to believe that, but it ain’t true.” Jerrod pushed his hat back off his forehead. “There isn’t a court in this land that would find you innocent when Roy and I start talking. So before you think to threaten us into staying on this ranch, think again. We know who set that fire five years ago.”

“Set the fire? That fire came on the heels of a dry thunderstorm.”

Jerrod laughed. “That fire came at the hand of your devious bride, Portia.”

Chester shook his head. “She would have told me if she’d had such plans.”

“Well, apparently she figured you didn’t need to know. Roy and I followed her out that day. We figured she needed a dressing down—she’d gotten us in too much hot water with you. You believed her story about us beating her when we hadn’t even laid a hand on her. So we figured we’d teach her a lesson—give her a scare.”

“Like that woman could be scared of anything.”

“Oh, she looked pretty frightened when that fire came over the mountain.”

Chester’s expression changed. “You were there? When she died?”

“Yep, we were there. Her horse fell and trapped her underneath. We figured it fittin’ and left her to burn. We also figured she was doin’ your bidding. That fire was set directly in line to burn the Selby ranch. She carefully calculated the wind and the location. That fire was deliberate, and we’d happily tell the court that you instigated it—even helped her accomplish it.”

“You would turn traitor on your father?”

Roy laughed. “Like you wouldn’t sell either one of us any day of the week and twice on Sunday if it meant makin’ you cattle king of Montana.”

“You’re calloused and without loyalty,” their father accused.

“And just where do you s’pose we might’ve learned that, old man?” Jerrod asked. “You’ve only lived it by example every day of our lives. You taught us that holding anyone or anything too dear was a weakness. You taught us to think of ourselves first—and others never.”

“So go then. If it’s all that important to you. I can hire two more men to take your place. You mean nothing to me more than that.”

Jerrod wouldn’t let the old man know that his words cut. He’d worked hard all his life to feel nothing—to care about no one. He refused to let himself desire his father’s approval. It didn’t matter now, because he wouldn’t let it matter.

“Good. Glad you see it our way. Who knows, maybe you can convince old Joshua to stay home now—do his part.”

“I don’t need any of you.” The older man turned, then paused and looked back. “Don’t be expecting any money from me. You can take what belongs to you, but don’t think you’ll be getting any part of an inheritance.”

“We’ve already taken what we want and have the money we need,” Jerrod said, leaning casually against the fence of the corral. “You oughta know by now that we’re perfectly capable of fending for ourselves.”

“So you’ve been robbing me blind as well. I guess I should have known that.”

“There’s a lot of things you should’ve known,” Roy muttered. They eyed their father for a moment, and then Jerrod shook his head.

“Are you leaving today?”

“No,” Jerrod replied. “But soon. In our own time. Just wanted you to know. Figured we wouldn’t sneak off like Joshua did or desert to the enemy like Mara.”

“At least they didn’t steal from me.”

“Don’t be so certain of that. You remember those papers you paid to have removed from the courthouse in Virginia City? The papers that would have helped you steal the Selby land? Well, I’m fairly confident our little Mara was the one who stole them back,” Jerrod said. “So don’t think us so different. She foiled all of your plans. We’re only walkin’ away with what we deserve.”

“You deserve to hang,” their father muttered.

“No more than you. Do you honestly suppose anyone would be surprised to know your part in the Farley murders? Do you suppose it would be that hard to convince a jury that you were there?”

“Shut up,” the old man declared, crossing the distance with surprising speed. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and clear out as soon as possible.”

“I’ll go in my own time, old man. Don’t threaten me.” Jerrod was nose to nose with his father. The hatred shone clear in his father’s eyes.

“You’d better watch yourself, boy. You have to sleep sometime.” The man’s words were cold and poisonous. Jerrod could almost feel the chill of death in his father’s stare.