by Irene Brand
“Will you be able to get everything together within a week?” Kennedy insisted.
“I’ll try my best,” he said as he stood up, apparently dismissing her.
“In the meantime, I would like for you and Eleanor to visit me at Riverside. After all, it’s your ancestral home, too, and I think you’d enjoy seeing the house like it used to be.”
“Thank you,” he said. “We’ll call before we come.”
Kennedy was troubled when she left her cousin’s office, and she sat in her car for several minutes just thinking. She was troubled because she had the uneasy feeling that Smith wasn’t being up-front with her.
Checking her watch first to be sure he would be in his office, she called Mr. Talbot, her lawyer in California. She identified herself and reported briefly on what she had accomplished since she came to Nebraska.
“But I’m troubled about something and want your advice. The ranch manager has gone over his accounts with me. He has them computerized, and I have access
“But I’m troubled about something and want your advice. The ranch manager has gone over his accounts with me. He has them computerized, and I have access to his computer. His records show that the ranch has made a profit in the last few years, although Dad’s accountant here says that the ranch isn’t profitable. What should I do?”
“E-mail the manager’s records from the past few years directly to me,” Talbot said immediately.
“He’s been in charge for fewer than three years,” Kennedy explained.
“Send what he has, and I’ll compare them to the records Kenneth had from his accountant. When am I going to receive the report for this year?”
“I gave Smith a week. I’ve gathered that he hasn’t been consistent with his reports and that Dad didn’t push him because he was a relative.”
“You know that Kenneth wasn’t himself after Grace died. He lost interest in lots of things. I looked after his other investments and kept them up, but he took care of the ranch.”
“Which may have been a mistake,” Kennedy said, adding, “I’ll be in touch.”
She pulled out into Main Street’s slow traffic and stopped in a drugstore before she went home. She was loading her purchases into the trunk of the car when someone called her name. She turned to see Robin Donovan, the Blaine cousin she’d met in church, approaching.
“Oh, hello, Robin,” she said and extended her hand. “I’ve finally gotten settled in at Riverside and had intended to call you. When can you come to visit?”
“I’m free tomorrow morning,” Robin said.
“About ten o’clock?”
“Fine, I’ll be there,” Robin accepted. “I have several things to talk to you about.” Rather than bypass ranch headquarters, Kennedy drove in and parked in front of the house. She waved to Derek, who was working on a piece of machinery, and went into the house. She opened the screen door.
“June?” Kennedy called.
“I’m in the laundry room,” June responded. “Come on in. I’ll be out in a minute.” Kennedy leaned against the sink cabinet and continued the conversation. “I’m on my way back from town.” Wiping perspiration from her face, June came into the kitchen. “It’s a hot day to be doing laundry.” Looking around the room, Kennedy said, “Don’t you have an air conditioner?”
“Why, no!” June said, amused. “We don’t need AC in Nebraska.”
“You do today, and I’m sure there are lots of times in the summer you could use it.” Kennedy made a mental note to have an air conditioner installed in the house.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” June said. “Sit down and visit with me.”
After Kennedy took a chair near her, June said, “I think I’ve found a companion for you.”
“Great! When can she start?” Kennedy asked.
June started folding a pile of towels on the table. “I told her I’d have you call and make arrangements to meet her,” June answered.
“Tell me about her,” Kennedy said, as she picked up a towel to fold.
“Miranda never married. She grew up in Valentine, but she’s worked away from here during most of her adult life. Her last job was as a security guard in a women’s prison.”
Kennedy gasped, and June smiled broadly. “She retired two years ago and came back to Valentine to live. She has some married siblings in the county.”
“I’d almost hire her sight unseen,” Kennedy said. “She seems like the perfect aid. I believe she’ll be more help than Wilson.” June agreed. “Derek is the one who suggested her.”
“I met Robin Donovan in town,” Kennedy said, “and she’s coming to see me tomorrow morning. Would you ask Miranda to come tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’ll see if that’s all right with her, and if so, I’ll bring her over about two o’clock,” June said. “But I’ll spend tonight with you.” On her way to the ranch, Kennedy kept wondering how she could repay the Sterlings for the way they’d helped her. She suspected that she’d insult them if she offered them money, but she was determined to do something to show her appreciation. The air conditioner might be a good way to start.
The house seemed quiet when Kennedy let herself in, and it reminded her of how lonely she’d felt in her home after her father’s death. She hadn’t fully comprehended the disadvantage of being an only child until she’d lost her last parent.
Kennedy wandered into the living room. She picked up her grandfather’s well-worn King James Bible from the coffee table. With time on her hands, she took the Bible and went to the gazebo. She leafed through the Book, noting the family records between the Testaments. Tears came to her eyes when she read the account of her parents’ marriage and the date she was born.
Kennedy tried to recall what God’s Word said about loneliness. She couldn’t remember much except that Jesus was alone when He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane before His crucifixion. She checked the concordance for references and was surprised that all of the verses she turned to had been highlighted, causing her to wonder if her grandfather had often felt lonely during the long illness of his wife.
She stroked the gold letters—HOWARD BLAINE—on the cover and felt very close to him. They had become good friends when he lived with them in California, and it made her feel more family-oriented when she read verses she knew he had cherished.
She read aloud the account of the beginning of mankind in Genesis chapter 2: “And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.”
Then she turned to the Sixty-eighth Psalm, to verse 6, and read: “God setteth the solitary in families.” Kennedy was particularly interested in what the writer of Ecclesiastes said in chapter 4: “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.” Kennedy closed the Bible but held it in her lap as she considered what she had read. She hadn’t thought much about marriage until Steve Martin had proposed to her. And when she didn’t feel any inclination to say “yes,” she had thought the single life was for her.
But according to what she had just read, God had put His approval on the union between man and woman since the beginning of time and had even created Eve for Adam to marry. If God had created someone for her to marry, she couldn’t believe that Steve was the one, or she would know. Automatically her mind turned to Derek, and she remembered her reaction the first time she’d met him. Had God directed her path to Valentine to bring her together with Derek? It was a sobering but precious thought. But surely she couldn’t be having serious romantic notions about someone she’d only known less than a month.
The next morning Robin arrived at Riverside promptly, and as Kennedy took her on a tour of the house, she realized that they shared many of the same values. She experienced an immediate kinship with Robin.
“Let’s sit in the living room and talk about family,” Kennedy invited. “Dad wasn’t one to discuss h
is extended family, but Mrs. Sterling told me that you’re involved in historical research. I hope you can tell me about my relatives.”
“Yes, I know a lot about your Morgan relatives as well as the Blaine family. I’ll answer all of your questions, but I’ve come with another purpose this morning. I
“Yes, I know a lot about your Morgan relatives as well as the Blaine family. I’ll answer all of your questions, but I’ve come with another purpose this morning. I belong to the Nebraska State Historical Society. Over the past few years, we’ve been canvassing the state to prepare a list of historic sites that are in danger of being destroyed. We’d like to try to save them.”
“That’s seems like a rewarding thing to do,” Kennedy said, suddenly interested.
Robin nodded. “We think so. And we need your help.”
Kennedy didn’t answer, but she lifted her brows inquiringly.
“Not only are we dedicated to preserving actual historic sites but also in preventing urban sprawl from eating up our best rangeland, and we’re attempting to have vast acres of land put on the National Register of Historic Places. You’ve heard of that?”
“We studied something about it in one of my law classes on land management cases, but offhand I don’t remember much about it.”
“There’s a great deal of criteria to be considered before this can be done,” Robin said. “But here are the basics. If there’s historic significance to a particular piece of property, in many cases the land surrounding that site can be included on the National Register.”
“Which means?” Kennedy prompted.
“It means that the land is set aside only for rangeland or farmland to keep it from being used for industrial or commercial purposes,” Robin explained. “Once a property is on the Register, it stays there in perpetuity. I’d like you to consider doing that with the Circle Cross and Riverside.”
“It sounds like something I might want to do,” Kennedy said thoughtfully, “but it isn’t a decision I’d make on the spur of the moment.” Robin nodded. “And you’re right to be cautious. But with your law background, it seems to me that you will able to weigh both sides of the situation. If the ranch is placed on the Register, you would be tying up the property for your heirs. Many children won’t like that. It sometimes causes hard feelings in families, and you should consider all of those options before you make a decision.”
Kennedy glanced around the room. “But unless you consider its age, I can’t see any reason that this house would be considered a part of history. I’ve never heard that any of the Blaines were great statesmen or political figures.”
Robin shook her head. “The age and architecture of the house would make it eligible for review, I think, but there is something else that makes the ranch itself of extreme historical value. There’s an old cemetery on the Circle Cross that has recently been authenticated as holding the remains of pioneers who were caught in a blizzard as they traveled in a small wagon train toward the Black Hills of South Dakota.”
“Really!” Kennedy said. “I didn’t know that.”
Robin nodded, and her eyes gleamed as she continued, “There are fourteen graves, and the word was handed down from generation to generation that the bodies were of pioneers who died along the trail. A couple of years ago, experts exhumed the remains from one grave and learned that the bodies had been buried there about 1870, and that they had died from cholera.”
“Poor people,” Kennedy said. “They thought they were headed for a new life, only to be struck down by that dreaded disease.” Smiling, Robin continued, “And your property may have the dubious distinction of once being a hideout of the robber Doc Middleton.” Kennedy laughed, and Robin said, “I’m serious. Of course, the outlaws were part of history, too.” Robin opened the briefcase she’d brought with her. “I don’t intend to pressure you one way or another, for it’s a weighty decision. But I’ll leave some literature for you to read.”
Robin laid the papers on the table and then stood and embraced Kennedy. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. My mother loved your father and mother, and she felt so badly when they went into exile. Uncle Kenneth didn’t have much interest in the Circle Cross, but you may be like Grandfather Howard.”
“I immediately felt an affinity with the land and the house,” Kennedy said. She paused and continued. “Have you heard that Smith has an offer to buy the Circle Cross?” she asked.
“Yes,” Robin said slowly, and she organized the papers in her hand without looking directly at Kennedy.
“Smith is insisting that I sell, but I don’t intend to let go of the property until I know who’s going to buy it.” She laughed lightly. “I suppose that pretty well indicates that I’m interested in preserving the land. I’ll ask Derek to take me to the cemetery.”
“That’s a wise move, in my opinion,” Robin stated. “Give plenty of thought and prayer to what should be done with the ranch.” As they continued talking, Kennedy agreed to visit Robin and her family at a later date and then waved as Robin drove away. Kennedy walked over to the gazebo and sat down to think. Who would have thought that becoming the owner of the Circle Cross would require so many decisions? Since she was the only heir, her father’s investments in Los Angeles had been transferred without any delay, and his holdings had involved large corporations with many stockholders.
Being the sole owner of a ranch was apparently a different proposition.
Glancing at her watch, Kennedy stirred from her reverie and went inside the house. When she heard June’s car, she hurried out on the porch to meet her guests.
After June had told Kennedy that her potential employee had been a prison guard, she had envisioned a large, brawny woman. Rather, the woman walking up the sidewalk beside June was of medium height, with gray hair and a slender build. She looked like a sweet little lady, and for once, Kennedy doubted June’s wisdom.
When June introduced her to Miranda Pratt, Miranda pumped Kennedy’s hand with a steel grip and fixed her with a magnetic look from blue, intelligent, assessing eyes. Obviously, there was more to Miranda Pratt than met the eye.
“Let’s sit in the gazebo, shall we?” she invited.
Once they were seated, Kennedy said, “I suppose June has told you the terms of my proposal and that I want a companion only at night. Are those terms satisfactory to you?”
“They are,” Miranda said, “except that nothing was said about a day off.”
Momentarily, Kennedy was put off by her brusque manner.
“Derek and June have convinced me that I shouldn’t be here alone, so if there’s any point in hiring a bodyguard at all, I need someone every night, not five or six nights a week,” Kennedy said. “It isn’t necessary for you to stay awake all night. And since you’ll be sleeping while you’re here, it seems that you will have every day to take care of your own personal interests. However, if you need the time off, I can no doubt find someone to fill in those nights, but I would deduct that amount from the salary I offered you in the first place.”
Kennedy had a feeling that June smothered a smile, and she was embarrassed at herself. Until the past few days, she’d had no idea she would be hardheaded in business deals. Saturday she had held her own with Smith Blaine and had laid down an ultimatum about when she wanted the ranch records. Today she was setting her own terms, like it or lump it, with a potential employee. She had better learn to curb her tongue, or the natives would think she was following in Gabriel Morgan’s footsteps.
“I don’t know that I will need any nights off,” Miranda backtracked, “but if so, I have a friend who will be glad to fill in for me. I can start tomorrow night if that’s convenient for you.”
Kennedy nodded her agreement. “Let’s go inside so you can see the house, and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.” Kennedy nodded her agreement. “Let’s go inside so you can see the house, and I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.” She pointed out the kitchen, where Miranda could have breakfast before she left each morning. And u
pstairs, Kennedy took her into a spacious bedroom across the hall from the bathroom. Miranda seemed impressed and said that she would return the next night before nine o’clock.
When they started to leave, Kennedy said to June, “I need to talk to Derek. Is he at home this afternoon?”
“Yes, it so happens that he is,” June said. “He’s training some young horses in the corral.”
“I won’t interfere with his work,” Kennedy assured her, “but I will come over and talk to him when he’s finished. I need his advice on something new that’s come up.”
Chapter Nine
When she arrived at ranch headquarters, Derek was in the small corral near the barn, working with a black horse. The horse tugged on the rope around his neck, and his silver mane shifted from side to side. Derek kept a heavy hand on the taut rope and steadily but slowly walked toward the animal.
After she peered through the wooden palings of the fence for several minutes, Kennedy climbed to the top, sat down, and hooked her shoes over a lower board to keep from falling. She waved to Joel, one of the ranch workers, who was perched on the fence opposite her and holding a coiled rope.
Kennedy watched in fascination as Derek grasped the horse’s bridle and walked around the corral with him several times. Then, carefully and slowly, he saddled the animal and walked the length of the corral, talking softly to the horse as he walked. When he finally climbed into the saddle, the horse bucked several times, and Kennedy held her breath until the horse settled down and circled the enclosure at a slow trot. After riding the horse for about a half hour, Derek unsaddled the animal and turned him over to Joel.
Wiping his sweaty, dusty face on the sleeve of his shirt, Derek sauntered toward Kennedy.
“Sorry to make you wait, but once I started working with the horse, I had to keep at it,” he said, looking up at her and tilting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes.
“I was spellbound at the way you handled him so patiently. Besides, I’m not in a hurry. I have time on my hands right now. Can you take a breather?”