The Rightful Heir

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Ivy. I’m sorry for the loss of your grandfather. I know Jacob would be proud you’ve come back to Pine Haven.”

Mary Lou watched Jared as he spoke. “Did you know Grump well?”

Reverend Dismuke chuckled. “Well enough to know that’s the name you gave him as a boy. Said it was something about the way he talked.”

“Most times he barked more than he talked.” Jared’s eyes lit up at the memory. “I knew from the start it was just his way. He was a good man.”

Reverend Dismuke agreed. “Yes, he was. He told me you’d be back one day. Said I could count on it.”

Jared spoke to the minister but turned and smiled at Mary Lou. “The reasons I stayed away so long make for quite a story. Not one for the paper, but a story nonetheless.”

What was the story? As a newspaper woman she wanted all the details. Somehow, looking at Jared now, she didn’t think he’d be willing to share them with her.

* * *

Jared carried his saddlebags up the steps of the newspaper office. He looked again at the lettering on the door. How he wished he’d known to come earlier. Why had God let Grump die before he could get here?

He wanted more of the man than the vague memories he had as a young boy. The snatches of moments when Grump would laugh out loud, or even scold him, were all he had.

Opening the door he called out, “Are you here, Miss Ellison?”

She came through a doorway that led to a back room. “Yes.”

“I brought a few things, but Andrew will be bringing the rest in a while. My saddle and valise.”

“Oh, good. He must have gotten the job I told him about.” Her pleasure at the news lit her face.

“Andrew must be very important to you.” He set the saddlebags on the floor near the door and propped his rifle against the wall.

“He is. Reminds me of myself at that age.”

“How is that?”

Mary Lou shrugged her shoulders. “Young. Alone in the world. But he’s also determined to make something of himself.”

Jared sank into a chair near the door. “Is that how you ended up with Grump? Set out to make something of yourself?”

She shook her head. Brown tendrils fell loose from the pins and swung to brush her cheek. “When I came to stay here, all I had were the clothes on my back and my momma’s Bible.” There was a sadness in her words that belied her bravado. “The determination was a gift from your grandfather. He taught me to believe in myself.”

What had Jared missed in not knowing Grump like Mary Lou had? Grump had become the family she hadn’t had. Ironic, because he was Jared’s family, but Jared had been denied his association by a mother who’d let the pain of life harden her. Perhaps harden was too harsh a judgment. Maybe she wasn’t hard but numbed by the sorrow of so much loss in her own life.

“So where does Andrew live?”

“Jim Robbins lets him sleep in the loft of the livery in exchange for chores.”

Jared had worked hard much of his life and believed strength of character grew from honest labor. “Then he works here and now at the hotel. Is he able to do all that well?” He could almost see her bristle.

“Andrew doesn’t have much choice. He has to earn his own way. He’s as fine a young man as you’ll ever meet. I dare say, when you’ve had the chance to work alongside him, you’ll learn that soon enough.”

Jared gave a curt nod. “I’m sure I will.”

Mary Lou brushed her hands down the sides of her skirts. “All right then. Would you like to see the rooms? It’s possible it’s not as fancy as you’re accustomed to.” She walked toward the staircase in the back room.

He stood and picked up his belongings. “What makes you think I’m accustomed to fancy things?” His childhood had been spent in the comfort of his mother’s small home with her feminine touches on all the furnishings. But his adult years had passed in a bunkhouse with ranch hands. “Fancy” was not a word to describe that place.

She stopped and turned, gesturing to his vest pocket. “That watch, for one thing. And you may wear a ranch hand’s coat and boots, but you talk like a gentleman.”

“Ah, so you’re judging me by the way I look and speak? Didn’t Grump teach you better than that?” He almost laughed when she let out a tiny huff of air.

“Mr. Ivy taught me a lot of things. Most important among them was to observe details.”

“He should also have taught you that situations and people are not always as they present themselves.”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying. You, Jared Ivy, are a contradiction in every way.”

That did cause him to chuckle. “I will tell you the reason I speak as I do, but only because we have to work together. My mother became a schoolteacher when we moved back to her hometown after my father died. She required more of me than the other students. She insisted that her work would be judged by my upbringing. Her efforts were successful—except for my spelling. I never did master it like she wanted. I think the more she pushed me to conquer it, the less my mind absorbed.”

“I see. That’s understandable. But what about the watch?”

Jared gave a slight tilt of his head. “The watch is a personal matter.”

Mary Lou blinked and said, “Oh. Please forgive the intrusion.” She turned back to the stairs and led the way to Grump’s old rooms. Was she truly sorry or was her sarcastic bent peeking through her words?

At the top of the stairs a small landing stopped in front of a plain door. She opened it and stepped aside for him to enter first.

“Everything is just as Mr. Ivy left it. I’ve dusted and swept up, but I didn’t have the heart to move any of his belongings.” She sniffed and he caught a glimpse of her catching a tear before it fell from her lashes. “Leaving everything made me feel closer to him.”

“Thank you.” He set his things down near the door and wandered deeper into the space. A woodstove sat in one corner with a pipe leading through the ceiling. A large rocker stood on a rag rug by the window on the same wall.

Mary Lou cleared her throat. “He didn’t cook much, but there are basic utensils here.” She pointed to a shelf along the back wall over the cupboard. “The bedroom is through that door.” She indicated the far wall.

Jared tried to imagine Grump sitting in the rocker or leaning over a plate of beans at the small table with two chairs. Grump’s Bible sat on the same table with a lamp.

“We used to talk for hours about the Bible or the next big article we were going to print.” Mary Lou’s voice was soft and reverent. The look on her face as she stared at the table let him know her mind was visiting a dear memory.

“I hope you’ll share some of those stories with me in the course of time.” Emotion he hadn’t expected clogged his throat.

“Oh, most of those conversations wouldn’t interest anyone but me or Mr. Ivy.” She twisted her hands together.

“All the same, I came here to find Grump. I’ll have little to piece together except the memories of others.”

She looked up then and met his gaze. An open love for his grandfather shone in her eyes. “When you say it like that, I don’t see how I can refuse you.” She backed up. “I’ll leave you to settle in.”

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” He followed her to the door.

Standing on the landing, she paused. “I’ve got a stew simmering on the stove next door. I’ll be glad to bring you a bowl for your supper in a bit. It being a Sunday, I didn’t think you’d have much chance to prepare anything for yourself.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Her generosity was unexpected, given how she must despise the purpose for his presence. “What time do you open the office?”