The Rightful Heir (18 page)

“There's a condition on your inheriting. ‘Mary Lou Ellison as sole heir to all my earthly possessions, including the
Pine Haven Record
, conditioned upon the inclusion of my grandson, Jared Benjamin Ivy, as joint heir should he ever return to Pine Haven.'”

Jared placed the will on the desk and stepped close to her. He put his hands on her elbows and grazed the outside of her arms with his palms coming to rest on her shoulders. “I'm glad he had you. You are sunshine and joy. Spunky and fun. A man with you in his life will always be a happy man. No sorrow can live in your presence.”

Her breath caught in her throat and he took a step nearer to her. “Don't you see what this means, Mary Lou?” He moved his fingertips up the curve of her neck to her cheeks. “Grump wanted us both to have the
Record
.” He laughed. A warm laugh that came from his heart. “He knew we needed to be together. By leaving his legacy to both of us, he bound us to each other with his love.” Jared raised his eyebrows. “He knew the two people he loved most in the world were meant to be together.”

Her words were barely more than a whisper and her eyes glistened in the afternoon light. “How could he know that?”

“Maybe he thought that as much as he loved you, I would love you, too. He was right. I do love you, Mary Lou.”

“You do? I don't know how he could have known I would love you—but I do.” She reinforced her words with a nod and her eyes grew wide.

Jared smiled. “Doc Willis reminded me that God is in the details.” He leaned closer still. “I'm very glad He is.”

He met her lips with his and she wrapped her hands around his shoulders.

The kiss she shared with him was filled with her side of the story. A story the two of them would share for a lifetime. A story not meant for the
Pine Haven Record
but sure to be told to their grandchildren. A story of how Grump played matchmaker.

Epilogue

M
ary Lou and Jared arrived at the Christmas Eve social about a half hour before it was scheduled to begin.

She found it hard to believe it had been over a month since they'd settled the ownership of the
Pine Haven Record
. The afternoon she'd found the second will, the sheriff had come by the paper and told them that Judge Sawyer had missed the train. It seemed the conductor had been more concerned about his schedule than an unhappy judge. The delay had allowed Judge Sawyer to amend his decree. He'd met them at the land office and ensured the new deed was drawn up to reflect their joint ownership.

Jared left Mary Lou just inside the door and went to interview Mr. Willis, the owner of the barn, for the article they would write about the social.

She made notes about the decorations Peggy Dismuke and a group of ladies from the church had used to turn the Circle W barn into a festive setting for the town to celebrate Christmas.

Large wreaths of green adorned with red bows hung over the doors at the front and back of the barn. The children of Pine Haven had made paper chains and cut out stars that hung between the beams that supported the loft. Lanterns lit the interior with a soft, warm glow. Pinecones and berries were nestled in lush greenery on the serving tables.

Jasmine Willis stood at the bottom of a ladder and handed Doc Willis a sprig of mistletoe tied with ribbon. He hung it on a nail on the beam that crossed the center of the barn.

Mary Lou stood by the punch table and swayed to the cheerful music as the band practiced one final time before the guests would arrive. She jumped when Jared came up behind her and whispered in her ear, “You look lovely tonight, Miss Ellison.”

“You really shouldn't startle me like that, Jared.”

“Well, the only way I know for you to stop being startled is for you to get used to having me near.”

He led her to a chair. “I'd like to talk to you about something important.”

“You would?” She strained to look up at him. “Then why don't you come down here where we'll be eye to eye.”

He nodded. “I think I can manage that.” He knelt on one knee in front of her. The music slowed and faded to silence as the musicians saw what he was doing. The few workers who were putting the finishing touches on the decor turned to watch.

Mary Lou couldn't breathe. He took her left hand in his and held up a beautiful ring with an oval emerald at its peak pinched between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.

“Mary Lou, would you like to wear this?” He slid it on her finger. “For the rest of our lives?”

She wrapped him in a hug. “Yes! Yes!” She didn't loosen her grip when he stood and lifted her to her feet.

Andrew arrived just in time to witness the moment and called out from the doorway of the barn. “It's about time you kept your promise to take care of her!”

Everyone laughed and resumed their work as the band played a lively tune.

Mary Lou relaxed her arms enough to look into Jared's face, but she didn't release him.

He winked at her. “Were you surprised?”

“You have my permission to surprise me anytime you want to, Mr. Ivy.”

He got punch for both of them and they sat close, talking for ages about the best time for a wedding. He kept saying New Year's Eve, while she extoled the romance of a Valentine wedding.

She had every intention of letting him have his way. But she wouldn't tell him just yet.

Several people stopped by during the course of the evening to congratulate Jared and offer her their best wishes.

Darkness had fallen outside and Mary Lou checked her watch for the time. She was about to close the cover when Jared reached for it. “May I?”

“What is it? You've seen this watch every day since you moved to Pine Haven.”

“Where did you get it?” He ran his finger across the carving on the outside of the pendant where it hung at shoulder height, pinned to her cape.

“Your grandfather gave it to me on my twenty-first birthday.”

Jared smiled that smile that told her he was discovering something deeper than a surface story. “Is it engraved?”

She was puzzled now. “Yes.”

He pulled his watch from his pocket and opened it. “My mother gave this to me when she was dying. She said Grump had sent it for my twenty-first birthday but she'd hidden it.” He held it out for her to see. “Does yours have the same inscription as mine?”

She almost cried when she read,
A broken heart is an open heart
.

Unable to speak, she nodded.

“So when I said Grump knew we needed to be together, I think he knew our hearts would be broken in the process.”

“He must have.” She was amazed at how God had taken her on a journey from being a young girl no one wanted to the happiest of women with a heart that had to be broken so it could expand enough to hold all the love that would come into her life.

“Would you care to dance, Miss Ellison?” He could still make her blush with his charm.

“I would like that very much.”

As they twirled around the barn floor on the Circle W Ranch with almost everyone in Pine Haven, Mary Lou felt wrapped up in a world all her own. Jared led them to the center of the floor and looked up at the mistletoe. She followed his gaze and at her smile he dropped a tender kiss on her lips.

He looked into her eyes, with one hand on her waist and the other holding her hand aloft. “We got off to such a rocky start. When did you decide you might be able to like me?”

“You may not believe it.” She let him spin her and came back into his arms.

“Try me.”

“When I saw you weeping at Mr. Ivy's grave. I knew then what a caring man you are.”

“It was so hard to come here and find that he was gone. I wanted to know him and share his legacy with him.”

Mary Lou smiled up at Jared. “His legacy is in good hands.”

* * * * *

If you enjoyed THE RIGHTFUL HEIR, look for these other Love Inspired Historical titles by Angel Moore.

CONVENIENTLY WED

THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN

Find more great reads at
www.LoveInspired.com

Keep reading for an excerpt from
MONTANA COWBOY DADDY
by Linda Ford.

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Dear Reader,

Life can turn suddenly and present an uncertain future.

Without Grump's love for Jared and Mary Lou, they would never have met. The tapestry of God's plan is bigger than we can see from our finite perspective. Grump's commitment to build the newspaper to provide for the people he loved ultimately became a legacy bigger than he'd ever imagined.

Thank you for reading
The Rightful Heir
. I hope you enjoyed the characters' journey from suspicion and mistrust to faith and commitment—and to their happily-ever-after.

Please look for another Pine Haven story soon.

I'd love to hear from you. You can reach me through my website at
angelmoorebooks.com
. You'll find the latest news and links to connect with me on social media.

May God bless and guide you through life's situations with His wisdom and peace.

Angel Moore

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Montana Cowboy Daddy

by Linda Ford

Chapter One

Bella Creek, Montana, 1890

W
eary from the long journey and tired of the cramped quarters, Isabelle Redfield was the first to step from the stagecoach to the dirt street of Bella Creek, Montana. A group of people stood about as if waiting for the arrival of the travelers.

Isabelle glanced around at the fledgling Western town where she hoped to start a new life—one of purpose and acceptance. Before her was a wooden-structured hotel, to her left, a wide street with bare-limbed trees and a welcoming bench. Past the hotel to her right, a café, Miss Daisy's Eatery. Her gaze went farther. Her heart slammed into her ribs at what she saw.

“No.” She couldn't tell if the word left her mouth or stayed trapped in her mind as she watched a little girl, blond hair flying about her head, dash across the street. Did no one notice her? Or see the freight wagon bearing down on her, the horses' huge hooves ready to trample the child? Were they all too interested in looking over those who had traveled to their town?

She lifted her skirts, intending to run toward the child. Instead, her petticoats caught and she stumbled. Righting herself, she reached toward the child but she was too far away. Could she do nothing to prevent the disaster she saw coming? Must she watch helplessly...uselessly?

In a clatter of racing hooves, a horseman galloped into the scene. The rider reached down and snatched up the little girl and thundered out of the way.

Isabelle breathed a prayer of thanks for the rescue of the child.

The wagon driver shouted, “Whoa.” The horses reared and pawed the air and the wagon careened to a stop farther down the street.

Isabelle stared at the big man who had rescued the girl and was clutching her to his chest, his expression fierce.

She couldn't hear his words as he spoke to the child, couldn't see his face, hidden as it was beneath the brim of his hat, but from the defensive look on the little one's face, she guessed he scolded her.

“Yes, Papa. I'm sorry.”

What kind of place had she arrived in where children played untended in the street? Then were scolded for the neglect of the adults? It should not be.

Indignation burned through her veins as she continued on her way, closing the distance between herself and the pair seated upon the horse. She didn't slow until she reached their side. The warmth and smell of horseflesh greeted her as she reached up and ran her hands along the girl's arms. “Are you hurt?”

The child shook her head, still looking frightened.

“You're safe so long as you don't play in the street.” Her smile seemed to encourage the girl. But how safe could she be if no one watched her?

She lifted her head to face the man. “You're this child's father?” Having heard the child call him Papa, she knew he was. She only meant to remind the man of his responsibility.

His gaze hit her with such force she pressed her hand to her throat as if she could calm the rapid beating of her heart...caused, she reminded herself, from marching across the street. Certainly not from the power of piercing blue eyes in a tanned face.

She didn't wait for his reply. Nor did she heed a sense of warning that this was not a man accustomed to having someone suggest he was wrong. “I advise you to take better care of her before she is injured.”

His blue eyes grew glacial. His lips pressed into a frown. “I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you nor you of meeting me. I would think that makes you quite incapable of having a knowledgeable opinion of what I should or shouldn't be doing.” His gaze bored straight through her.

She lifted her chin another inch. She was Isabelle Redfield and her opinion was generally considered worth taking note of. With a little sigh, she released her anger. He didn't know who she was nor did she want him to. “I would be remiss not to point out the child was in grave danger. Surely you could see that.”

“I saw her.” His clipped words warned her to drop the subject.

She lowered her gaze to the child and, not wanting to upset her, chose to let it go.

Her traveling companions had left the stagecoach and watched the proceedings from the hotel veranda. She climbed the three wooden steps to join them. Isabelle's friend and fellow traveler, Kate, rushed to her side. “That was too close for comfort. Quite an introduction to Bella Creek.” Kate's father, Dr. Baker, joined his daughter. Sadie Young, the new teacher for the community, stood nearby.

A white-haired old man leaning on two canes stood in the forefront of the gathered townsfolk, as if the official greeter. Each of those who had traveled with her introduced themselves and spoke of their plans. Dr. Baker and his daughter to help the ill and injured, Sadie Young to teach the children. And Isabelle to—

Well, she wasn't sure what she could do, but she'd find something that mattered.

Praying no one in this group would recognize her name, Isabelle brushed her skirts, smoothing them as best she could before she introduced herself. “Miss Isabelle Redfield.” She adjusted her gloves. “I'm here to help, as well.”
Please don't ask me what I plan to do.
The breeze tugged at her silk scarf, whipping the ends about.

Kate pulled her to her side. “Isabelle is my friend. She's with us.”

When Kate said she would go with her father to the mining town, Isabelle had asked if she could accompany them. She'd grown weary of life in St. Louis, where for the past eleven and a half years, since her parents died when she was twelve, she'd shared the home of her second cousin by marriage, Augusta. Not that her home life was unacceptable, but everyone knew Isabelle was the sole beneficiary of both the Redfield and Castellano fortunes. It seemed most people sought her out, pretended friendship, even asked for her hand in marriage, simply because of her inheritance. Kate was the rare exception.

Perhaps she could start over here without that knowledge classifying her. As they'd approached their destination, she'd asked Kate not to tell anyone she was an heiress, which had brought a smile to Kate's lips as her gaze skimmed Isabelle's dress. “You should have taken that into consideration when choosing your gowns. Even your traveling outfit shouts money.”

Isabelle had glanced dismissively at her sapphire-blue suit and long protective matching coat lined with warm wool. Her bonnet matched, as well, but the long silk scarf holding her bonnet in place was bright and cheerful with pink poppies all over. Clothes meant far less to her than they did to Cousin Augusta, who saw every occasion as an excuse to bring in a seamstress or two and discuss the latest styles.

“This is all I have, though I suppose I could have ordered different things.” The gowns in her trunk were mostly new—suitable for a trip, according to Cousin Augusta. It had never crossed Isabelle's mind to suggest otherwise. She smiled as she thought of the fine silk and crisp satin of her gowns. It had been rather exciting to help select the fabrics and then watch them be transformed into beautiful outfits. She loved beauty wherever she saw it.

It was too late to prepare simpler clothes. Hopefully she would not be judged by what she wore.

“Good to see you all,” the white-haired man said. “We need all the help we can get. I'm Allan Marshall, the one who sent for you. Welcome to Bella Creek.” He shifted to lean on one cane in order to shake hands with the doctor and bend over each of the ladies' hands.

Many in the small crowd called out their greetings.

“Most people call me Grandfather Marshall, seeing as there are so many Marshalls around. Like my grandson here. Dawson, get down and say hello to these folks.”

The man Isabelle had recently scolded lowered the girl to the ground, swung off his horse and joined the older man. Tall and broad, so upright and strong looking...a marked contrast to his stooped grandfather.

“This is Dawson Marshall.” The elder Marshall man chuckled softly. “You'll have to forgive him his manners. Sometimes he forgets he's not out with a bunch of rough cowboys.”

Isabelle raised her head to meet the gaze of the man before her. She stilled herself to reveal none of her trepidation. Only a few minutes in town and already she'd managed to step on the toes of what appeared to be the biggest family in Bella Creek. Not that knowing would have stopped her from speaking her mind.

Grandfather Marshall continued. “Dawson's a widower in need of a woman to settle him down.”

“Grandfather, I am not in need of a woman.” The protesting words rumbled from the man's lips.

Isabelle managed not to show any sign of her alarm at the way the older man eyed her, then slowly—almost reluctantly—let his gaze slip toward the other two women. She dared not look at them to see their reaction. Would either of them be interested in the prospect?

From behind Dawson peeked out the little blonde girl, her blue-green eyes wide.

“Papa, she's beautiful,” the child whispered, as she stared at Isabelle.

Amusement tickled Isabelle's insides but she decided it was wise to disguise it in view of the frown on Mr. Marshall's face.

“Welcome to Bella Creek.” Dawson greeted each of them. His expression cooled considerably when he met Isabelle's gaze. “Thank you for coming in answer to our appeal for help.”

His latent displeasure didn't bother her except to refuel her indignation that a child had been in danger.

The various trunks and crates had been unloaded from the stage and with a “Hey, there” from the driver, the horses pulled away, leaving a clear view to the sight on the other side of the street.

Isabelle stared. The whole of the block had been burned to the ground. Blackened timbers and a brick chimney stood like mute, angry survivors. One section had been scraped bare except for remnants of spring snow clinging to the corners. And in the midst of it stood a new building, so fresh and out of place amid the rubble on each side that it looked naked. Shock chilled Isabelle's veins at the sight. She pulled her scarf closer around her neck.

Dawson Marshall strode over to stand nearby as they both studied the scene. “This winter a fire destroyed the dry-goods store, the lawyer's office, the barbershop, the doctor's office and residence, and the school. We're grateful it didn't jump the street and burn the church.”

She'd read the news of the fire. Knew it to be the reason they needed a doctor and a schoolteacher, but to see the stark evidence gave it a whole different meaning. “Was anyone hurt?” She shuddered at the thought.

Kate and Sadie joined Isabelle at the edge of the veranda, crowding her closer to Dawson and his daughter.

He answered her question though he addressed the entire group. “Doc burned his hands trying to save his equipment. It will be some time before he can resume his duties, if he ever does. He said it was time to retire. He and his wife moved to California. The teacher wept profusely at the loss of her precious books and left town on the next stage, saying she would never return.”

“Hence your need for replacements.” Her scarf was tugged. She reached to contain it but stilled her hand when she saw the little girl behind Dawson fingering it.

She bent and smiled at the child. “What's your name?”

“I'm Mattie. I'm six.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mattie.”

Mattie's face lit with a smile.

Dawson moved away to speak to the doctor, Mattie firmly in hand.

Isabelle watched him. A big man with a strong face. Raising a child on his own. How did he manage?

Not that it concerned her.

Shifting her attention away, she met Grandfather Marshall's eyes. He grinned at her, his gaze darting to Dawson and back.

Goodness. Did he think she had an interest in his grandson? If only he knew she had no interest in men at all. No, she'd learned her lesson. They never saw beyond her inheritance. She'd allowed herself to believe Jamieson Grieve cared for her. After all, he had no need of her money. His father owned a successful bank. But then had come talk of how he'd invest Isabelle's inheritance in establishing more banks. Once started on the topic of Isabelle's money, it seemed he could talk of nothing else. She'd broken off with him, wanting to be seen as more than the source of a large bank account.

It had taken one more failure in the shape of Andy Anderson for the lesson to be embedded. A humble store clerk who daily espoused the evils of money as the root of all vices, he'd said a man ought to work for what he had and take pride in doing so. Believing he loved her for herself, she'd agreed to a betrothal. That was when she felt she must tell him about her inheritance.

Turned out he'd always known—why should she have believed otherwise? The man would have to be blind and deaf not to know. After their betrothal, he had wanted her to contact her lawyer and, as her future husband, have himself named as trustee of her estate. He said he knew how to put the money to good use.

That was when she'd said goodbye, a sadder but much wiser woman. From now on, she would not trust that a man's affections were not influenced by her inheritance. Perhaps by hiding the truth about herself, she could learn the real meaning of a person's interest in her.

“Doctor.” Dawson's voice brought her back to the present situation. “You have patients waiting. Three men were injured by falling machinery. Which of these are yours?” He indicated the stack of crates and trunks.

“I'll need those and those right away,” the doctor answered, pointing to several crates.

Dawson waved at the nearby men. “Let's get these over to the doctor's office.” He turned to Sadie. “Miss Young, I'm afraid I don't have time to see you settled right now. Nor do we have your quarters ready. You'll be staying in the hotel until we do. If you don't mind going in and introducing yourself...”

“I'll manage just fine,” Sadie said and made her way to the hotel entrance.