Westin Legacy. Alice Sharpe
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“Still in Chatioux. Analise’s father took a turn for the worse. They’re getting ready to crown her brother king so Pierce extended his stay. He should be home next week.”
“I read about what happened here last winter in the newspapers. They made it sound like Pierce was going to marry this Princess Analise.”
“That’s the rumor.”
“How about that? The troublemaker gets himself a princess. How about Cody? Is he around?”
“He and Jamie are working on the mowers. We were supposed to start haying yesterday but everything went wrong. With any luck we start tomorrow bright and early. Dad is out in the barn with a couple cronies you might remember.”
“I’ll head on out there,” Echo’s stepfather said.
Adam nodded across the yard. “No need, they’re on their way.”
Echo turned to see three men. She’d assume she’d recognize her uncle, but the fact was she wasn’t sure which of the men was Birch Westin. All three of them appeared to be in their sixties and cut from the same Western cloth, all imposing in their own way, all about the same size. She looked at their hats—the most recent picture she’d seen of her uncle had him in a black Stetson with silver disks on the band. No help there: they all wore tan hats, two of them straw.
That’s when she remembered Uncle Birch had had knee surgery last winter followed by a series of setbacks that had delayed healing. One man limped, plus, the closer he got, the more he reminded her of Adam if you looked past the wear and tear of time.
“So, you made it,” Birch growled at Echo’s stepfather.
Echo’s stepfather’s shoulders grew rigid. “Yeah,” he said.
Birch nodded, then turned to Echo. His voice softened. “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t know you were coming, too.”
“I’m just here for a day or so,” she explained, moving to accept a perfunctory hug. Birch was as stiff a hugger as her stepfather—neither was the warm, cuddly type. Were all the Westin men like that? Her gaze flicked to Adam. Was he?
Birch took up introductions. “Pete, you remember J. D. Oakes,” he said, gesturing at the man with the white handlebar mustache and a piercing gaze. J.D. held between two fingers what appeared to be a hand-rolled cigarette. It smelled foul. “And this here is Del Halverson. I don’t know if you and Del ever ran into each other way back when.”
Pete shook both men’s hands. “Sure, I know these two. Del, I think you bought your place a year or two before I left. You’d just returned from the East Coast as I recall.”
Del Halverson was a florid man with small features bunched in the middle of a large face. “I wasn’t away long,” he said. “Got tired of working for my uncle in a damn bank. We all left Wyoming at one time or another, right? Even Lonnie moved away to be a soldier for a while. Big city lights tempt a man. Most of us wander back sooner or later. ’Cept you, J.D. You didn’t come from around here.”
“I came from a hundred miles north of here. I swear, Del, unless a man is born in your backyard, he’s a foreigner.” He smiled at Echo as he added, “I remember when you were a wisp of a little girl.” Then he dropped his cigarette to the gravel and ground it out with his boot. He looked up, caught Uncle Birch scowling at him, and hastened to pick it up. “Sorry, I forgot,” he said, and crossed to an old milk pail filled with sand that leaned beside a post. He dropped in the butt and turned back to Del. “Let’s get out of the way so these people can get reacquainted.”
Both men said their goodbyes then climbed into one of the trucks and drove off.
An uneasy silence ensued until Echo finally broke it. With a sweeping gesture, she indicated the house. “It sure looks different than I remember,” she said.
“Cody remodeled three summers ago before he married Cassie,” Adam volunteered.
“Fat lot of good it did him,” Uncle Birch snarled. “She ran off last winter anyway.”
Echo didn’t miss the knot that formed in Adam’s jaw. She wasn’t exactly sure what prompted it unless he didn’t appreciate his father making those kind of comments about his brother.
“This place is hard on women,” Pete commented.
Birch turned on his brother. “Is that why you sold me your share of the ranch and moved Althea away? Because the place was hard on her?”
“Partly.”
“Pauline is still here,” Birch grumbled. “She lasted.”
“Maybe because you never married her. Where is she, anyway?”
“In town for the day.”
“Looking forward to seeing her. And you know I didn’t move just because of Althea. Things weren’t the same after…”
His voice trailed off and he looked at the ground.
Birch glowered at his brother. “Go ahead and say it.”
The silence that followed his remark was so deep it felt like the earth itself held its breath. Echo shifted uneasily, glancing over at Adam, who was staring at the ground.
Finally, Pete thumped his leg with his fist. “That’s all water under the bridge. I’m back now to stay unless you’d rather I didn’t. It’s not my ranch anymore.”
“The Open Sky will always be your home,” Birch muttered. “Some things don’t change.”
“Then take me out to the barn and bring me up to speed. I plan to help with the haying. I used to know my way around a tractor, you know.”
A smile lifted Birch’s lips for a millisecond. “We can use the help. Come on, Adam, we’ll—”
“I can’t,” Adam said so quickly Echo decided he was as anxious to escape these two querulous old men as she was. He turned to Pete and added, “We discovered someone was looting the burial cave this winter. I need to ride out and check the safeguards Pierce and I put in place. What with haying, there won’t be another opportunity for the next few weeks.”
Echo saw her chance. “I’ll go with you,” she said.
“I’m going on horseback.”
“That’s fine.”
“Do you still ride?”
“Of course.” Sort of…
He glanced down at her sandals. “You’re not dressed for it.”
“I have boots and jeans in the truck.”
“It’s a long ride—”
“Oh, come on. I can keep up. I was pretty good on a horse.”
“That was a lifetime