by Marta Perry
“This is it,” she said as Maddie joined her on the wide front porch.
“It’s huge.” Maddie glanced around. Mature trees and a wrought-iron fence surrounded the ranch house, with grasslands and rolling hills stretching out in the distance. Behind the house, outbuildings dotted the property: barns, greenhouses, storage sheds, the cottages occupied by Lupita and her husband and that of foreman Ty Garland, and the bunkhouses. Colby Ranch was a busy place, so busy that it was sometimes hard to find a moment alone.
“I’ll show you around tomorrow.” She picked up Maddie’s suitcase. “Right now let’s get you settled and see what Lupita’s fixed for supper.”
“I think you’re the one who needs to settle.” Maddie linked her arm with Violet’s. “You’ve been running at full speed since the accident, haven’t you?”
“Pretty much.” Violet pushed open the heavy oak front door and led Maddie into the center hallway. The pale tiled floor gleamed in the fading light, and there were fresh flowers, as always, on the massive oak credenza against the side wall. The staircase swept upward to the second floor in front of them. Through the glass doors at the far back end of the hallway, solar lights cast a glow over the courtyard.
“I’m home,” Violet called as she always did when she entered the house. “Lupita, are you here?”
“Sí, sí, I’m coming.” Lupita emerged from the kitchen at the back of the house, wiping her hands on the apron she’d wrapped around her plump waist. “It’s about time you were getting home.” The tone was gently scolding and filled with love. “You must—”
Another step, and she had seen Maddie. She stopped, black eyes wide and questioning, and Violet thought she murmured a prayer in Spanish.
“Lupita, this is Maddie Wallace.” What else could she say?
Fortunately, there seemed no need. Lupita rushed to them and wrapped her arms around Violet, enfolding her in a loving hug. “So,” she said softly. “I was right. There was a sister.”
Violet pulled back, thoughts tumbling. “You knew I had a sister? Lupita, how could you keep this from me?”
“No, no, I didn’t know.” She patted Violet’s cheek. “Don’t fuss, little one. Once when your mother was sick, she rambled. She spoke of her baby girls, calling for them. So I thought there had been another. But I never thought to see her, not in this life.”
“You thought I had a sister that died,” Violet said, suddenly understanding.
Lupita nodded, turning to Maddie. She walked to her, taking Maddie’s face in her hands and studying her for a long moment. “You are home,” she said. “I am glad.”
She turned, reverting to briskness probably to hide her emotion. “You must be starved, both of you. Wash up and get to the table. The food will be there by the time you are.” She bustled back to the kitchen, wiping her eyes with the tea towel she held.
Maddie looked a little dazed. She put her hand to her cheek. “I didn’t expect that kind of a welcome.”
“Lupita’s been with us since we were kids. As far as she’s concerned, we’re her kids, too.”
“Do you think she knows anything more about us?” Maddie set her bag on the credenza. “Wouldn’t she have tried to find out more from your mother, if it happened as she said?”
Violet shrugged. “Lupita always tells the truth, but sometimes she leaves things out. For our own good, she’d say. If she knows anything else about us, I’ll get it out of her eventually.”
* * *
By the time Lupita had stuffed them full of her special chicken enchiladas with black beans and rice, topped off with a scrumptious peach tart, Violet was feeling vaguely human again. She leaned back in her seat. Lupita always said that trouble and an empty belly were bad companions, and this time she seemed to be right. But even though she felt better, Violet was still too conscious of the empty chairs at the table.
Maddie, who’d demolished her piece of peach tart, was staring at the framed portrait on the dining room wall. “Who is that? Another relative?”
“That’s Uncle James.” Violet smiled at the pictured face, the weathering and wisdom of years showing in skin like crinkled leather. Kind blue eyes seemed to smile back at her. “James Crawford. He wasn’t actually a relative, but that’s what Jack and I always called him.”
“Who was he, then?” Maddie eyed the portrait curiously.
“He owned this place. Mom came here as housekeeper when I was three and Jack was five. He took us in and made us feel as if this was our home, too. He didn’t have any family, and soon he was treating us like kin. I really don’t even remember a time when he wasn’t part of our lives.”
“So he left this place to you?” Maddie sounded faintly disapproving.
“Not just like that,” Violet responded, sensitive to criticism on that subject. Other people had talked about that, she felt sure, but Belle had ignored them. “Over the years, Uncle James needed more and more help. Mom took over the bookkeeping, and as his health failed, she took on increased responsibility for every aspect of the ranch. Eventually Uncle James insisted on making her a partner, and when he died, we found that he’d left the rest to her.”
Violet’s confidence faltered. Had Uncle James known the truth about them? Had he known about their twins? She suspected that even if he’d been privy to her mom’s secret, he never would have told. Honor was everything to a man like Uncle James.
Violet pushed her chair back as one of Lupita’s numerous nieces came in with a tray, the young woman’s gaze wide-eyed and curious when she looked at Maddie. Word of this event would be all over the ranch in minutes and all over the county in a day. Violet was resigned to that happening.
“Let’s take our tea into the living room so we’re out of Lupita’s way.” She stifled a yawn. “I hope…”
Her voice faded as she heard boots coming from the direction of the kitchen. She rose from her chair. If only it was Jack…
But it wasn’t. Ty Garland, the ranch foreman, paused in the hallway, hat in his hands.
“Sorry to bother you, Violet.” He seemed to be making an effort not to look at Maddie, which meant he’d already heard about her arrival. “I was hoping you knew when Jack would be around. There’s a couple of things I need to talk to him about.”
“I wish I knew the answer to that, too, Ty.” She glanced toward Maddie to find her looking at Ty appreciatively. Maybe Maddie was practically engaged, but she certainly noticed the tall, dark and handsome Ty.
Sighing, Violet decided she’d better make introductions.
“Maddie, this is Ty Garland, our foreman. Ty, this is my…this is Maddie Wallace.”
Ty nodded, falling silent as he did so readily, especially with strangers. And Maddie, with her elegant looks and bearing, was definitely different from anyone around here.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ty.” Maddie smiled up at him from where she sat. “It sounds as if you have a lot of responsibility around here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ty eyed Maddie warily, making Violet wonder what he was thinking.
Maybe she’d better get this conversation back to business. “What was it you needed to talk to Jack about?”
Ty turned to her with something like relief in his dark eyes. “Well, for starters, we had planned to go to the livestock auction on Saturday, and I was just wondering if that was still on.”
She tried to think what day it was, but her brain seemed to have stopped working. Still, she could trust Ty to know what to do.
“I don’t know that you can count on Jack, with Mom still in the hospital. Why don’t you just use your own judgment, okay?”
“Sure thing. I’ll go and see if they have what we’re looking for.” He let his gaze stray toward Maddie. “Night, ma’am. Violet.” He strode toward the back door, settling his Stetson squarely on his head.
“Nice to have such a good-looking cowboy around,” Maddie said once the door had closed. “Is there anything special between you two?”
“Definitely not.” Violet shook
her head. “Ty’s a great guy, but like everyone else around here, he treats me as if I’m about twelve or so. Maybe younger. He seemed to appreciate you, though.”
“Please.” Maddie shuddered. “I’m through with men. One broken engagement was enough for me.” She picked up her cup and started toward the living room.
The front door burst open. Jack came through, as brash as ever. He tossed his hat in the direction of the hook on the credenza, catching it perfectly. He caught sight of Maddie first, as she stood directly under the hall light.
“Hey, Vi, where did you disappear to—” He stopped. Blinked. And looked past Maddie to where Violet stood. And looked again. “What is going on here?”
“Jack, this is Maddie Wallace.” Violet went and stood next to Maddie, letting him compare them one against the other. “My twin.”
Jack stared. With a pang, she noted the lines of strain around his light brown eyes and bracketing his firm mouth. He was taking his mom’s injury hard, blaming himself, and she feared this discovery was going to make things worse.
He shook his head. “It can’t be.”
“It is.” Violet took his arm, feeling the muscles tense under her hand. “Come into the living room and sit down. We’ll talk about it.”
Unwillingly, he nodded and let himself be led to the overstuffed leather couch. He slid down into it, looking almost boneless. But the tension was still there, in the lines on his face and the tightness of his jaw.
“Okay, I’m not going to argue the point of whether or not you’re twins.” He stared at Maddie. “I can’t. This isn’t just a resemblance…you’re identical. How did you find her?”
“Maddie,” Maddie said, her voice tart. “My name is Maddie, and like it or not, I’m your sister.”
Jack looked taken aback for an instant. Then he managed a strained smile. “Sorry, Maddie.” He shook his head, looking as if he’d taken a fall. “What does this mean? Vi, if you have a twin we’ve never even heard of, then maybe nothing we think we know about our past is true. What if I’m not really your brother?”
“You are. I know that.” Violet clasped his hand, her heart hurting for him. “Maddie, show him the photo.”
Maddie got out the framed picture she’d brought along and handed it to Jack. He stared for a long moment at the face that was the image of his own.
He put the picture down carefully, lunged from the couch, and strode across the room, looking as if it weren’t big enough for him. Violet recognized the signs. When he was hurting, Jack had to be alone. Usually he’d take one of the horses and ride until they were both exhausted.
“Jack…” Her voice was filled with sympathy, but she didn’t know how to make him feel any better about this. He’d already been struggling with guilt over the quarrel he’d had with his mom right before her accident.
He held up his hand, obviously not wanting to hear more. “Don’t, Vi. I don’t get it. How could Mom keep this from us all these years? I feel like my whole life is a lie. Is my name even Jack Colby?”
She didn’t have an answer for that. It might be Wallace, she supposed, but they didn’t even know if that was right.
“I don’t know,” she said carefully. “Maddie’s father is away. She’s trying to get in touch with him. When she does, maybe he’ll have some answers.”
Jack spun, facing them, his hands clenched into fists. “So you expect me just to wait while some stranger decides to tell me about my own life? I can’t do that. I’ve got to—” He stopped, shook his head. “I’ve got to get away until I can clear my head.”
“Jack, don’t.” Don’t go away and leave me to face this alone—that was what she wanted to say.
“I have to.” He was already headed for the door. “I’ll take my cell phone. Call me if there’s any change in Mom’s condition.” He yanked open the door and charged out. The door slammed behind him.
Violet fought down a sob. Her family really was breaking apart, and her efforts to smooth the waters had only made things much, much worse.
Chapter Three
Landon’s mind was still on that encounter with Maddie’s unexpected twin when he arrived at his office the next morning. The long arm of coincidence had really extended itself when he’d walked into that coffee shop yesterday.
Or maybe it wasn’t coincidence at all. He stopped in there often, sometimes with Maddie. Maddie was there even more often alone, living as close as she did. Still, he couldn’t quite see why Violet would take such a chancy way of approaching Maddie, even if she had known of her existence.
Despite his caution, he had trouble imagining that Violet was anything other than she seemed. She’d been genuinely shaken at the sight of Maddie. He didn’t think she could have faked that.
Odd, that Violet could be so like Maddie in appearance and yet so different in other ways. Violet gave the impression of a woman with a warm heart combined with a strong will. Sometimes that could be a dangerous mixture.
He pushed open the door to the office, which was discreetly lettered Derringer Investments. The firm had little need of obvious advertising. Their clients came to them by word of mouth—by far the best way, as far as he was concerned.
“Good morning, Landon.” Mercy Godwin, his secretary, receptionist, assistant and good right arm, was at her desk ahead of him as always. Mercy’s row of African violets on the windowsill made an unexpected display of color in a place of business.
He’d agreed she could have one plant in the office, back in the mists of time when they were just starting out. Somehow the number of violets had multiplied along with their clients.
“Morning, Mercy.” Sometimes he wondered how she timed her arrivals. No matter how early he walked in, she was already there.
“Your schedule is fairly clear today.” She frowned at her computer screen, as if daring it to come up with an event she didn’t remember. “Dave Watson called. He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”
Mercy didn’t ask why the private investigator was coming in. Never displaying curiosity was one of her admirable traits. In her fifties, plump and graying, she was a childless widow whose life revolved around her work. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when she decided to retire.
He’d actually contacted the private investigator before he’d left the coffee shop yesterday. The sooner his doubts about Violet Colby were put to rest, the better. Dave would start with the whole question of whether or not the twins were born in Fort Worth. Apparently he had results already.
“That’ll give me time for a quick look at my email first. I took a break from business yesterday.”
Taking a break in this case had meant driving out to the ranch where he boarded his horse and setting off on a long ride, followed by a late swim and an early bed, with all connection to the outside world strictly forbidden. He’d adopted the weekly ritual when he’d realized that if he didn’t take a breather from the tyranny of constant communication on a regular basis, he’d burn out before he was forty.
Nodding to Mercy, Landon went on into his office. Simple and understated, it suited him. His business was almost entirely electronic, and costly decorating was unnecessary, besides not to his taste. Sinking down in his leather desk chair, he scanned quickly through his email, mentally classifying the messages in order of importance as he did so, until one name stopped him cold.
Maddie. According to the time, she must have sent the message about an hour after they’d parted the day before. He clicked on it.
I’ve decided to go to Grasslands with Violet for a visit. Thanks for finding her. I can take it from here.
Please forget about proposing. We both know that what we feel for each other isn’t enough to build a marriage on. You only proposed out of some notion that you need to take care of me, but you don’t. I’ll take care of myself.
I’ll call you when I get back. In the meantime, I think it’s better if we’re not in touch.
Landon sat frowning at the message for a long moment. Maddie had gone off with a wo
man she’d known for all of an hour, and she didn’t say when she was coming back. He didn’t like this one bit.
Maybe Maddie was right, and his relationship with her wasn’t a good basis for marriage. He’d promised her brother Grayson he’d look after Maddie when all the Wallace men were away, so he’d been trying to do that. The proposal had sprung out of sympathy and caring at a time when she’d been distraught, crying on his shoulder over the loss of her promising job and the lack of support she felt from her family. Somehow he’d thought proposing would make things better. It hadn’t. That was one time when his sense of responsibility had led him astray.
Frustration tightened his nerves. Never mind his reasons. He still cared about Maddie’s welfare, and she needed someone to watch over her.
She’d probably dismiss that as an old-fashioned ideal, but he’d felt that way since he'd started hanging around with her brother when they were in their teens.
The Wallace kids had lost their mother, their father was absent more than he was present, and in Landon’s view, Grayson hadn’t done enough to take care of his little sister.
Pain gripped Landon’s heart at the thought, and he seemed to see his own sister Jessica smiling at him, looking at her big brother with so much love. His guilt, never far away, welled up. He hadn’t taken care of his little sister. If he had, she’d never have gotten into a car with a drunken teenager, never been in the crash, never ended her life far too soon. Maybe that was why he felt such a need to look after Maddie.
A tap on the door interrupted the memories before they could cut too deeply. He looked up with a wave of relief. “Come in.”
Dave Watson lounged into the room, deceptively casual in jeans, a T-shirt and a ball cap. He managed to look like a good old boy interested in nothing more than the Cowboys’ prospects for the upcoming season. In actuality, Dave was as shrewd as they came and in Landon’s opinion, the best investigator in Fort Worth.
“Hey, chief. How’s it going?” Dave wandered across the room and slumped into the visitor’s chair.