“It’s only after you’ve stepped outside your comfort zone that you begin to change, grow, and transform.” Roy T. Bennett
Kansas 1900
A lonely breeze stirred the edges of the curtains left open around the windows, bringing with it a faint scent of rain and the distant growl of thunder. The bed rustled beneath Lillianne Welch as she leaned up on one arm to look out the window. She caught a brief, sharp flash of lightning in the distance. Would it reach them tonight? She sincerely hoped so. Like everyone else in the county, the Welch ranch was feeling the effects of a prolonged drought and so far any idea she had that might have helped wasn't financially feasible. The Welches, while respected, were not known for their extravagant riches.
Lying back down, she pulled the faded hand-pieced quilt up to her chin and sighed. Her pa had been dead for nearly three weeks, leaving the running of the ranch to his twenty-five-year-old daughter during a time of uncertainty. There wasn't anything she didn't know about the management of such an operation. In lieu of the son he'd wanted, Franklin Welch had raised his only child to follow in his steps and there'd been no concession toward her sex. She was a Welch and therefore she was expected to add her own blood, sweat, and tears to those of her father that were already a part of the Kansas earth.
Another roll of thunder entered on a breeze, but it seemed to come from further away, and again she sighed. She may as well get up. It wasn't long until dawn and another day of work and worry to get through.
It was early afternoon when a carriage pulled up to the main house and a small party of three well dressed visitors alighted onto the dusty ground. From inside the house, Fiona, the middle-aged wife of the ranch foreman, emerged, wiping her hands on the apron covering her ample belly.
“Can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“Hello!” responded a dapper dressed man who looked to be in his early thirties, “Yes, my name is Thurogood Bennett, esquire. These are my clients, Mrs. Abigail Tannen, and her brother, Mr. Caleb Tucker. We're here to see Miss Lillianne Welch.”
“Miss Lily is off in the far pasture until sometime this evening. Is this an urgent matter?”
“Not an emergency, no, but it is of some importance regarding her late mother's estate. May we come inside and wait for her, since it's such a long way back to town?”
Fiona's eyes widened a moment before she nodded and motioned toward the door into the house.
“Yes, yes, of course. Please, come inside.”
She waited as Mrs. Tannen, an elegantly tall, softly rounded woman, mounted the steps onto the porch then led the way inside the small foyer and into the parlor.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Perhaps some tea or, I have some fresh lemonade.”
Mrs. Tannen took her seat on the sofa before the fireplace while the men took the two chairs to each side.
“Lemonade would be lovely, thank you,” she replied with a kind smile as she settled.
Fiona nodded and looked questioningly at the two men. They nodded in agreement so she hurried out of the room to the kitchen. There she found her teenage daughter busily kneading dough to be made into bread for dinner that night.
“Sarah! Sarah, run down to the stable and have someone fetch Miss Lily. Tell them she has important visitors.”
The younger woman nodded before wiping her floured hands on her apron and left to do her mother's bidding. Not long after, Fiona returned to the parlor bearing a tray holding a pitcher of lemonade, three glasses, and a small plate of cookies.
“I've sent someone to find Miss Lily,” she told them as she set the tray on a table before the sofa. “It might take a bit but she'll be here directly.” She began to fill and distribute the glasses. “My name is Fiona. I'm the housekeeper here.”
“Thank you, Fiona,” Mrs. Tannen said as she accepted her glass. “This certainly is a lovely room.”
“Thank you, ma'am. It was the late Mr. Welch's wife's doing when they first built the house. After she passed no one thought to change a thing.”
“Sarah always did have a way with décor.”
“Yes, ma'am, she did. Now, can I get you folks anything else?”
The three visitors refused and the housekeeper left the room, curiosity eating at her.
Nearly two hours later, Lily entered through the kitchen door. After a day of mending fence, she was grimy and sweaty, and smelled like the horse she'd left in the stable. With her damp, short cropped chestnut hair flattened by the hat she carried, and dressed in well worn men's dungarees, work shirt, and vest, only her delicate features and build, and her heavily lashed large emerald green eyes betrayed her femininity.
“Fiona? What's going on?”
Fiona shook her head as she dredged chicken in flour.
“I don't know. These people just showed up saying they needed to talk to you about your mother's estate.”
“Estate? My mother didn't leave an estate.”
“Well, they think she did. You best go see what they have to say.”
Lily nodded and hurried from the kitchen, the clomping of her boot heels accompanied by the jingling of her spurs, and moments later entered the parlor. The three inside looked up and as one their faces registered instant dismay.
“Hello,” Lily, well acquainted with the reaction, smiled pleasantly, “I'm Lillianne Welch. How can I help you?”
For long moments, there was total silence in the room except for the ticking of the mantle clock over the fireplace. Then Abigail rose to her feet in a rustle of fine fabric and approached Lily with a gentle smile.
“Lillianne, my name is Abigail Tannen. I was your mother's elder sister.”
Lily smiled doubtfully.
“I'm afraid you must be mistaken, Mrs. Tannen. My mother was an orphan and had no family.”
Abigail's smile gentled still further.
“Yes, my dear, she had a family. A family who loved her very much.” Her eyes took in every feature of Lily's face. “And you are her spitting image.”
Lily shook her head.
“No, ma'am, as I said you are mistaken. Now...”
Abigail half turned toward the men who had also stood.
“Caleb, please fetch the reticule from the carriage.”
Caleb disappeared quickly from the room. Moments later he returned, carrying the tapestry-sided case, and handed it to his sister.
“Thank you, Caleb.”
Opening the bag, she withdrew a framed picture and offered it to Lily.
“This was your mother shortly after her first cotillion. I believe she was about sixteen.”
Hesitantly, Lily took the picture and looked down. It could have been a younger, much more refined vision of herself looking back. She felt her stomach lurch. Abigail again reached into the bag and withdrew a leather bound book. She handed it to Lily as well.
“And this was your mother's Bible,”
The younger woman accepted the Bible and stared down at it before opening the cover. Inside she read, “This Bible given in gratitude to Miss Sarah Tucker for her kind and unfailing willingness to minister to the children of First Christian Church, Taylorton, Kentucky. 1868.”
Lily felt an unaccustomed tremor run through her and instinctively stiffened herself against it. Looking at Abigail with confused eyes she shook her head slowly.
“I don't understand. Why did I not know this before?”
“You come from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Kentucky, my dear. Your parents met one summer and fell in love. They decided to marry but your father would not accept any of the Tucker fortune, and he insisted that Sarah not either. He would not be a kept man, I believe he put it, but was determined to make his own fortune. Soon after they were married, he took her and moved to Kansas where he bought this ranch. Sarah stayed in close contact with the rest of us and seemed happy in her new life.” Abigail's expression saddened. “Then, three years later, she died giving birth to you and all contact with your father soon ceased. We tried several times to convince him to send you to us, to be raised in a way more befitting a Tucker. But he refused and finally stopped responding at all.” She paused and took a breath. “But we kept watch over you from afar so we knew where you were at all times. When word reached us of his passing, Caleb and I immediately made haste to come here.”
Lily looked down once again at the picture and Bible in her hands.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Tannen, but this is being quite a...a shock to me.”
“Call me Aunt Abigail, or Aunt Abby if you prefer, and I know it must be. But everything I've told you is the truth.”
“But why would Pa tell me that my mother was an orphan and that she had no family? I don't understand.”
“As I said, your father was a proud man and for whatever reason he seemed to despise Sarah's prosperity. Perhaps he meant to keep you free from it as well.”
Lily shook her head, her expression troubled as she handed the picture and Bible back to Abigail.
“I need to think about all of this. Please excuse me.”
She started to turn away but was forestalled when one of the men came forward.
“Miss Welch, my name is Thurogood Bennett. I am the Tucker family attorney-at-law.”
Lily turned fully to face him, her face going carefully blank. Her father had instilled deep within her a distrust of the legal profession.
“Yes, Mr. Bennett?”
“Miss Welch, I realize how much of a shock this must be for you...”
“I doubt you do, Mr. Bennett.”
He paused then nodded, “Yes, you're right. But be that as it may, there is an important legal matter that must be discussed and I'm afraid time is of the essence.”
Lily took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest.
“Now?”
“If you please.”
“Well, I don't please but something tells me I'd best get this meeting over with if I'm to have any peace.”
Bennet stared at her for a moment, obviously nonplussed, before regaining his chain of thought.
“Is there someplace else we could discuss this? Someplace more conducive to business, perhaps?”
Lily stared at him for a long moment before nodding her head and uncrossing her arms.
“Yes. Follow me to the office.”
The three visitors followed her from the room, the jingling of her spurs playing a merry march as they went. Moments later they entered a large, masculine appointed room. Heavy velvet drapes hung over the windows, low built shelves filled with books on livestock and livestock management occupied three walls beneath chair rails, a parlor stove stood before the closed up opening to a stone fireplace, and a large, heavy oak desk sat centered beneath a gleaming brass chandelier with frosted glass globes on each branch. Lily motioned to the chairs before the desk.
“Have a seat, Mr. Bennett. Mrs. Tannen, you can sit next to him.” She looked at Caleb. “You're welcome to sit there by the window, Mr. Tucker.”
As they found their seats, Lily rounded the desk and sat in the heavy, ox-blood-colored leather chair. Folding her hands over her belly, she leaned back and studied him dispassionately, even though inside her head was spinning.
“So, what is it you wish to discuss?”
“Your inheritance.”
“What inheritance?”
“Mrs. Welch's father left her a sizable inheritance upon his death. Then, upon hers, Mrs. Welch's estate automatically goes to her eldest child. In this case, you.”
Lily's expression betrayed none of the turbulence she was feeling.
“What kind of estate?”
“The usual. Stocks, bonds, property of different kinds, and a significant amount of cash. The net worth is in excess of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
This time Lily stiffened in shock and closed her eyes. She felt her heart racing and it was suddenly difficult to breath properly. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars? She couldn't comprehend that much money!
The room was silent as she absorbed the news, with all three visitors watching her closely. After a couple of minutes, she opened her eyes and leaned forward in the chair.
“You'll forgive me for my surprise.”
“Of course, Miss Welch.”
She sat silently for a few moments, staring at the brass ink well at the top right corner of the desk blotter. Finally she looked at the lawyer with the direct and level stare they would all learn to anticipate when she was deadly serious.
“So what must I do to claim this inheritance? I assume there must be some kind of conditions attached?”
Bennett squirmed a little inside as he met her gaze.
“Yes, Miss Welch, there is one major condition attached, and it's the same condition that is attached to every inheritance awarded in the family.”
“And that is?”
“You must reside at the family home, Tucker Grove, for at least one year. After that, the inheritance will be released in its entirety to your discretion.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Bennett, I can't do that. I have a ranch to run.”
Abigail spoke up.
“Lillianne, I anticipated that that might be an obstacle so I took the liberty of bringing along my foreman's right hand man. He's an honest, fair man, with an astute understanding of farm and livestock management. He will remain here and answer only to you in the running of this ranch.”
Lily felt her stomach lurch again. Leave the ranch? Go to Kentucky? She'd never been outside of this part of Kansas in her life. Then she thought of the rarefied existence these people lived among the very wealthy and her stomach tightened further. Deep inside, so deep she had hardly noticed its existence, she felt uncharacteristic insecurity. Her father had raised her as the son he never had. He'd made her keep her hair short, bind her breasts, dress in men's clothes, work as hard as any man on the land, and learn none of the social niceties that she'd seen the women in town display so easily. She'd never even worn a dress. How could she even hope of living in such a place for a year? Again she shook her head.
“I'm sorry. It's just not possible.”
“Miss Welch, Lillianne,” Caleb spoke up for the first time, “With your inheritance, you could make improvements almost to your heart's desire on this ranch. You could weather any set backs with proper planning and management. You could make this operation far more than it is at this present moment. Is a year so long as to pass up those kinds of opportunity?”
She closed her eyes as the images flashed through her mind of the endless repairs needed on aged fencing and equipment. Of the barn and bunkhouse that needed care, let alone this house. Of the men who surely deserved more than the small wage she currently paid them for their loyalty. Her thoughts shifted to her most heartfelt desire. To introduce new, better quality blood into her equine and cattle breeding operations. The temptation warred with her fears before practicality took precedence. Looking back at Abigail, she met the older woman's eyes almost as if daring her to answer.
“Your man can be trusted to keep this ranch running safely and in good order? He is dependable to a fault?”
Abigail nodded.
“Yes, Lillianne. He is.”
“Then I'll meet with him, and if I approve of him, I'll go with you.”
Chad Granger's first impression upon seeing Lily the following morning was that this was either the most delicate man he'd ever seen or the prettiest tomboy. Luckily he'd been forewarned to expect Lillianne Welch's unorthodox appearance and was able to hide his instinctive response both to that and to the level and direct expression in her emerald eyes. For all the beauty of her sun-tanned face, there was the no nonsense manner of a male equal in her manner when she offered her hand and a cool smile in greeting.
“Mr. Granger? I'm Lillianne Welch. Welcome to the Bar W.”
Her hand was as small and delicately made as the rest of her, but its strength and callouses bespoke a lifetime of hard work. After motioning him to take a seat in a chair in front of the desk, she resumed her seat in the big, ox-blood-colored chair before looking at Fiona, who, after showing Chad into the office, waited beside the door.
“Fiona, would you please bring us some coffee?”
She glanced at Chad as she made the request, to which he responded with a nod, and Fiona quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
Leaning forward and folding her arms atop the desk, Lily got straight to the point.
“Mr. Granger, I'm sure you can understand my reluctance to trust my ranch to the care of a complete stranger, though my, uh, aunt says you are quite capable of running it as I would have it.”
Again Chad nodded but remained silent, waiting.
“What qualifies you for such an undertaking?”
Rather than being put off by her blunt manner, Chad felt his respect for her grow.
“My family owns a horse farm in Kentucky, not too far from where your family is from. I grew up learning how to manage the horses, and later the cattle my elder brother diversified into. Before leaving for the university, I learned the basics of the business of running a horse and cattle operation.”
“So you went to college.”
“Yes. I studied business and animal husbandry.”
“Did you graduate?”
Chad smiled slightly and nodded.
“Yes.”
“Unusual for a mere farmhand.”
Again he nodded.
“I agree, but I've never aspired to remain one.”
“And what are your aspirations, Mr. Granger?”
“I intend to one day own my own spread.”
“So your employments since college have all been with an eye toward continuing your education in the practical sense.”
“Yes.”
At that moment, Fiona entered with a tray bearing two mugs of steaming hot coffee. After handing them each a mug, she retreated as quietly as before. Lily took an unhurried sip before leveling her direct stare into his eyes.
“And how many years have you been pursuing this practical education?”
“Since I graduated from university eight years ago.”
“That's a long time.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “but then there's a lot to learn. Owning a ranch is far different from merely working on one. The Tuckers have allowed me every opportunity to learn and experience the differences and I've taken advantage of every one.” He met her direct gaze, stare for stare. “I intend to be one of the best, if not the best, in the business.”
Lily allowed a small smile of respect to appear.
“I'm sure you do. And your time here at the Bar W is meant to be another graduation, of sorts.”
“I hadn't thought of it that way but I guess that's about right.”
She considered him expressionlessly over her mug as she raised it for another sip. Moments later, she straightened and set it on the desk before standing.
“Alright, Mr. Granger. Before I make my final decision, I want you to meet my foreman and take a ride around the ranch. If he approves and you still want to remain here while I'm in Kentucky, then we'll talk further. Is that agreeable?”
Chad rose to his full height of just over six feet and set his own mug aside.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Then follow me.”
After introducing him to her foreman, Randall, she made her way back to the house, stopping occasionally when someone had a question or comment for her. Once inside, she went straight to her room and closed the door behind her. Immediately the shivers she had been trying to ignore turned into trembles and she leaned back against the heavy oak of the door, her eyes closing. She desperately needed a few minutes to herself, to come to grips with the unexpected turbulence that Chad Granger had incited within her. She'd been raised around men all her life but never had one affected her like he did.
It was well after lunchtime when Chad and Randall returned. They found Lily in the corral working with a green-broke young sorrel mare and watched for a while until she was finished. Then, with a pat to the horse's withers she led it over to the fence.
“So, how'd it go?” she asked.
Randall grinned.
“He knows his stuff, that's for sure. No complaints there.”
“Any complaints at all?”
The foreman shook his head.
“Nope.”
She turned her attention to Chad.
“Well, Mr. Granger, if you're still interested, I guess you'll be staying on here for the next year. Give me a few minutes to put Nutmeg away and we'll go up to the house.”
He nodded as Randall reached for the gate latch.
“No, no, Miss Lily. I'll take care of Nutmeg while you two talk.”
She nodded and handed him the horse's lead before walking out of the corral.
“Thanks, Randall.”
She silently led him to the house and into the office, trying to ignore the way her nerves were jumping and her mind was threatening to shut down altogether. They hung their hats on iron hooks beside the door before taking their seats, she behind the desk and he in front of it. Moments later, Fiona entered with a tray bearing two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade and over the following couple of hours, Lily went over the management of the ranch, showing him ledgers and files, and answering his questions when they came up. Chad's estimation of her continued to grow. Never had he met a woman so comfortable, and competent, with all the aspects of ranch operations. Her father had taught her well.
Chad wondered what she'd look like in a dress.
Discomfited by the unexpected thought, he forced his attention back to the matters at hand. Lily was explaining her equine breeding program and there was no doubt that this was where her true passion lie. There was an eagerness to her manner, a sparkle in her emerald eyes, that hadn't been there before, and he felt his suddenly unruly mind roaming away once again. Ruthlessly he forced it back to the stud records she'd been showing him.
They finished just as dinner was announced and made their way to the kitchen, where several men were already seated at the long table. The air was redolent with the aroma of Fiona's famous roast mixed with the lingering scent of apple pie, and Chad's stomach rumbled in response. It had been a long time since his meager lunch of tough jerky.
After introductions were made, they all dove eagerly into dinner. As time passed, the ranch hands, in their laconic way, showed their curiosity with questions whose answers told them a lot about the man who would soon be their acting boss. By the time they were finished, they were satisfied that Miss Lily would be leaving them in good hands. Not long after, Chad rode back to town and the hotel his party was staying at, to report the day's business.
Two mornings later, he followed the carriage bearing Abigail, Caleb, and the attorney back to the Bar W, his mind already on what lie ahead. In the preceding days, he and Lily had worked together to make the division of power go as smoothly as possible. Fortunately it wasn't a difficult task for the ranch was well managed and stable financially. The ranch hands were good workers and loyal to the man to the ranch. Lily had a clear focus on where she wanted to take the Bar W, and he found it both feasible and well thought out. She wasn't one for taking risks in the hope of a fast, big payday, but neither was she over cautious. She was highly intelligent, methodical and shrewd with uncanny instincts when it came to making her decisions on any issue. And she was nobody's fool.
Chad found he was looking forward to working with her over the coming months. And even though she was actually his employer, he realized he was already thinking of them as a team. He had no doubts that it would be a successful one. Suddenly he frowned as he considered what the year ahead would hold for her. The Tuckers were good people and well respected for their principles as well as their prosperity. They didn't hold themselves vastly superior over the average citizen and were active in all aspects of their community. Still, theirs was a lifestyle far different from what Lily had known. She would have to learn a completely different way of fitting into their world. He was torn between amusement at the thought of the impact she was bound to make on their rarefied society, and fear that she would change so much as to lose herself in the process. In addition to respecting her, Chad genuinely liked her for her bold, direct approach to life. There was nothing artificial or secretive about her. She was Lillianne Welch with no apologies, and he was seriously attracted to her.
The party arrived at the ranch house shortly after breakfast and immediately set to work. First, legal affairs were taken care of with a few strokes of a pen. Lily hid the anxiety that was building inside her behind her customary confident and determined facade. When she thought no one would notice, she would let her eyes roam over the inside of the house and out the windows past the corrals and ranch buildings to the land beyond. A lump seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her throat and she fought the threatening tears ferociously. Her father had taught her never to cry as tears were a show of weakness, and she wasn't about to start now.
After she and Bennett completed their business, she accompanied her aunt to her bedroom where the older woman began taking an inventory of Lily's wardrobe. It was instantly clear that an entirely new one would have to be acquired once they arrived back in Kentucky but when Abigail suggested that a couple of ready-made dresses could be purchased in town prior to the train's departure late that afternoon, Lily rebelled.
“I have never worn a dress in my life and I'm not about to do so now,” she declared stubbornly, “When we arrive in Kentucky, when I have an opportunity to become accustomed to such changes in private, then I will agree. But for now, I will dress as I always have and the devil be hanged should anyone object!”
Sensitive to the toll the sudden changes in her niece's life was taking, Abigail agreed and instead chose those items showing the least amount of wear to place in the two tapestried bags she'd brought along. Thirty minutes later, the two women followed a young ranch hand carrying the bags and returned to the parlor where Caleb, Bennett, Chad, Randall, and Fiona waited.
“Are we ready?” Bennett asked almost jovially after instructing the hand to carry the bags to the waiting carriage.
“I'd like a moment with Mr. Granger, if you please,” Lily replied and watched as everyone left her and Chad alone. Turning to him, she calmly met his gaze but he saw beneath to the turmoil that was filling her.
“Mr. Granger, I leave all I hold most precious to me in your hands. After coming to know you as I have these past few days, I don't believe you will willingly or easily break my trust. Please do not disappoint me.”
Chad nodded his head.
“You have my oath, Miss Welch.”
Holding out her hand, she waited as it was enveloped in his much larger one and once again felt the strange frisson of awareness pass through her. For a moment their eyes lingered as their hands held, and each became aware of something besides a business partnership taking fragile bud between them, before he followed her from the room.
The coming weeks tested Lily's meddle in ways she could never have imagined. The trip to Kentucky was long and exhausting, and for Lily, who was used to working every available moment, boring for the most part. Accustomed as she was to the reactions her unconventional appearance often incited, she easily ignored the curious and baffled stares. The more judgmental responses were a different matter. Those earned their owners one of Lily's cool, unexpectedly direct stares that never failed to intimidate.
As they traveled further east, the landscape became greener, lusher, and increasingly more populated with people not adverse to openly showing their disdain for her while simpering over Abigail and Caleb, until they realized that she was a Tucker as well. It didn't take them long to understand that she held them in far less esteem than they had her just moments ago.
After spending the night in town, the group boarded the luxurious family coach that would transport them along the private rail spur to Tucker Grove nearly twenty-five miles away, arriving early in the afternoon. A carriage awaited them when the steam engine brought the coach to a hissing stop alongside a wide wooden platform and not long after, they were being ushered into a house so grand it was unlike any that Lily had ever seen before in her life. Not for the first time, she found herself wrestling with the urge to simply leave and go home to Kansas. But, reminding herself often of what her inheritance would mean for her cherished plans and dreams for the Bar W, she stayed, and with her customary stubborn determination applied herself to learning the basics of what it meant to be a Tucker.
To her dismay, the first basic was appearance. To be a Tucker meant wearing the very latest fashions and the very latest fashions for Lily were items she had never before in her life worn, those being dresses, gowns, and their requisite underpinnings. She had bound her breasts since they first began to appear and had hated it. But it was nothing to the first time she was introduced to a corset. For the first time in her life she knew why women had the vapors. Searching for a practical method of satisfying social requirements, she decided to adopt a method of horse breaking, that being she would wear the damn thing for longer periods until she could go several hours without passing out. That took three weeks. In the meanwhile, a full wardrobe was chosen, measured for, and ordered, including shoes for every imaginable occasion. As she learned to walk with some grace across floors and down stairs, she thought wistfully of her boots, which she had stealthily hidden when she overheard one of the servants mention that they were bound for the burn pile. Over my dead body, Lily had declared silently to herself and immediately returned to her suite. It took some searching but she finally located a loose board in the floor of the huge armoire, removed it, and placed the boots in there. After a moments thought, she added the work clothes, including the hat. she had worn on her travel from Kansas and firmly returned the board to its original state.
There was nothing fashionable that could be done with her short hair until it grew out so hats of every conceivable design, size, and hue were commissioned and delivered. Lily, who had never once in her life played with dolls, suddenly grew sympathetic to what it must mean to be one with the constant finery changes and imaginary tea parties forced upon them by others.
The only real pleasures she enjoyed were the few times she was able to slip off to the stables and the time she spent with Aunt Abigail. Though opposites in many ways, the two women were developing the first feminine bonds that Lily had ever had the opportunity to explore. Even as she tutored her niece in her new station in life, Abigail was careful not to damage those qualities that made her the individual she was. She was taught how to dress for every occasion and things like which heavy silver utensil was used for which dinner course, but she was never expected to change or hide her personality or basic character. Adelaide enjoyed watching the effect her niece had on those who met her for the first time.
But there was one other, secret, pleasure that Lily enjoyed. While her transformation was underway she stayed in contact with Chad at the Bar W through postal service, telegrams, and, as soon as wire could be strung to the ranch, a new fangled telephone. It was only during those times when she was in contact with him and directly involved with ranch business that she could relax and truly be herself.
As time passed, the tenor of their interactions began to change. Interspersed with the discussions about breeding pairs and the more expensive upkeep of the ranch property, their questions and observations became more personal, more intimate. Through their letters and occasional phone calls they discovered mutual interests beyond ranching and similar views on many key issues. They became friends, and over time, began to become much more.
The months passed by surprisingly quickly for Lily, helped along by the close relationship that had grown between herself and Abigail. Next to Chad, her aunt was the only other person with which she felt comfortable with. She worried about how the ranch hands would regard her when she returned. Though she tried to deny it to herself, the truth was she was changing as she accepted this new facet of her life. But, thanks to Abigail, she wasn't feeling pressured to change who she essentially was. She was still Lillianne Welch. As outspoken and direct as she had always been. Only with a little more polish. Okay, a lot more polish. But in her heart and soul, she was still very much a rancher's daughter. Very much a rancher in her own right. And she never stopped wanting to go home.
Looking up from the file of reports she'd received from Chad that morning, Lily watched as the white petals of the Bradford pears that dotted the front lawn blew free in the spring breeze. Soon, she thought to herself. Soon I will be free again to ride the winds across the prairie after cattle too stupid to realize how much more dangerous they were to her than she was to them. Free to work alongside men she had known all her life. Who were honest and honorable and hard working. Who spoke their minds and expected you to do the same. Who understood her and respected her. The real her. The one she had spent a year burying beneath fine gowns and parasols. Those who knew that Lily well would have recognized the little smile that curved her lips as she imagined riding in the train back to Kansas, once again dressed as she'd arrived, and throwing all her fine clothing out the window one piece at a time. The smile widened naughtily as she imagined one of her unmentionables landing at a good reverend's feet as he and his congregation emerged from their Sunday service.
“Miss Lily?”
Startled from her imaginings, Lily found Aunt Abigail's maid standing in the doorway, her face drawn and hands wringing with worry.
“Yes, Bernice?”
“It's Miss Abigail, Miss Lily. Something's wrong with her. Something very wrong.”
Lily rose to her feet in a rustle of expensive forest green fabric.
“Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?”
“I can't explain. You just need to come see for yourself.”
Having grown accustomed to the elegant but horribly uncomfortable shoes that made up her current wardrobe, Lily's feet flew as she followed Bernice out into the hall and up the wide, sweeping staircase, then down the hall to Abigail's suite. The door was partially open and she could hear what sounded like Abigail singing a child's nursery rhyme in a high, little girl's voice. Dread suddenly filled her and she paused. The little girl song continued, feeding the darkening that was wrapping itself around her heart. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply as she reached deep for the strength to face what waited on the other side of the door. This, she knew, was not going to be a cut from a barbed wire fence or the all over injury from falling from her horse. And this, she knew, was going to have the power to devastate her.
Bernice was still watching worriedly when Lily opened her eyes. With a final deep breath she straightened her spine and lifted her chin, then nodded at the maid to lead the way.
The suite appeared as it always did. Elegant in the way of times past, with heavy, ornate furnishings softened by feminine fabrics and bric-a-brac. Another door stood open into the bedchamber, allowing the odd little girl singing to escape as the two women crossed the room to it. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. Lily might have believed the room was empty but for the song that drew her inside. Bernice remained by the door as Lily followed the voice around the massive canopied bed, her steps slowing as she reached the other side.
Abigail sat like a young girl, smiling dreamily as she leaned back on her hands with her legs stretched out before her and her feet moving in time with her song. Lily's mind inanely recognized the song as “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie,” but there was no humor to accompany it. Briefly, she squeezed her eyes shut again then moved carefully forward.
“Aunt Abigail? It's me, Lily.”
Abigail's serene expression turned puzzled when she looked up.
“Who are you?”
“I'm Lily. Your niece. Uh, your friend.”
“I don't know you, do I?”
“Yes, you do. I've been your, your friend for a long, long time.”
“I don't remember you.”
“Well, you should. We had breakfast together just a few hours ago.”
“Oh. I don't remember.”
Abigail looked away for a moment, her child-like actions incongruent with her advanced age, then turned her attention back to Lily.
“Can I go outside and play? Corabeth said she'd come by later.” The old woman's expression turned beseeching. “I promise I'll be back before then.”
Lily's heart was breaking as she turned her attention to Bernice.
“Have someone fetch the doctor. I don't care where he is or what he's doing. You tell them to get him here immediately or I'll know the reason why not.”
The maid nodded then hurried from the room and Lily turned back to her aunt, who was still waiting for an answer. Not knowing what else to do, she decided to play along.
“I don't think that would be a good idea, Abigail. Someone said there's rain coming and I wouldn't want you to get all dirty and muddy before Corabeth gets here. Would you?”
Abigail's lined, aged face fell as she sighed.
“No, I guess not.”
Then she brightened.
“Did Cook make the cookies like she promised?”
“I-I don't know. When did she say she would make them?”
Abigail thought for a moment, her silver topped head cocked to one side.
“I don't remember exactly. But surely she's made them by now!”
“Well, I can go check. But first, it's time for all young ladies who want to grow up into great beauties to take their naps.”
“But it's too early!”
At that moment, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the three o'clock hour and Lily breathed a sigh of relief as she sent a quick thankful prayer upward for heaven's perfect timing.
“No, it's not, see? The clock just rang three times.”
Watching her aunt's little girl persona trying to think of an argument, Lily struggled with the feeling that the world had somehow turned inside out and upside down.
“But I don't want to take a nap!”
If the situation had not been so serious, she might have chuckled at the strangely child-like pugnaciousness reflected in Abigail's heavily lined face and faded blue eyes. Instead, she adopted her own response from that of those she'd seen other women make.
“Yes, young lady, you will.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I said so and I'm, uh, older than you are. Now get up from there and let's get you changed into a sleeping shift.”
Abigail didn't budge so Lily played her imaginary ace card.
“If you get into bed and take a nap then I'll have some of Cook's cookies ready for you when you wake back up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Abigail scowled then moved as if to stand, not understanding her aged body no longer operated as freely as it once had many decades ago, and Lily rushed to help her.
“I can do it!” Her aunt objected.
“I know you can, sweetheart, but I don't want you to, to, to fall on this slick floor and hurt yourself.”
“I won't hurt myself because I won't fall!”
“Well, just to be sure, I'm going to help you up then we're going to get you into your sleeping shift.”
Abigail started to argue some more then, with a resigned scowl, nodded and allowed Lily to help her to her feet and up onto the bed.
“Well, would you look at that?” she suddenly exclaimed in feigned surprise, “You still have your sleeping shift on!”
Abigail looked down at her satin nightgown.
“This ain't no sleeping shift!”
“Yes, it is and don't say ain't. It's lazy speech.”
Somewhere in Lily's mind a voice asked where that kernel of knowledge had come from then was forgotten as she helped settle the old woman back against the small mountain of pillows she liked to sleep on.
“Will Corabeth be here when I wake back up?”
“Maybe. And if she is, then she can visit you up here in your bedroom and you can have some of Cook's cookies and pretend you're at a high tea.”
“What's a high tea?”
“It's something they do in England, I'm told. They get all dressed up in their best day dresses and eat fancy little cakes while they talk about nice things.”
“Why do they call it a high tea if all they're doing is eating fancy cakes?”
“Well, they have to be able to wash the cakes down with something, right? So they drink tea.
Lily paused as if to consider something. “And I think in their best china teacups.”
The old woman nodded. “Oh. That seems kinda stupid.”
She settled further down beneath the bedding before returning her attention to Lily.
“Can Corabeth and me have fancy cakes instead of cookies? But not tea. I don't like tea.” Abigail grinned slyly, showing the few empty places toward the back of her mouth where teeth were missing. “I do like lemonade, though.”
Lily couldn't help chuckling at her aunt's almost gamin expression then called forth something else she'd heard other women say.
“We'll see. Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine you're in a beautiful place. The most beautiful place you can think of, and when you wake up, I'll have those cookies waiting.”
“And lemonade.”
She chuckled again.
“And lemonade.”
Abigail slipped alarmingly quickly into slumber, her breathing becoming deep and even, and Lily finally allowed herself to drop the act she'd been forced to play. Tears filled her eyes as she reached down and caressed the lined, beloved face of the closest thing to a mother she'd ever had.
“Oh, Aunt Abigail. Please be alright. Please.”
But Abigail would not recover. She never regained consciousness and lingered for nearly two weeks before passing, her final breath leaving her on a sigh.
While the staff mourned, Lily went about the business of seeing to her aunt's funeral, burial, and final wishes. By day she went about her duties with a calm, if pale face, and her characteristic efficiency. At night, however, was when the tears came. Lying in her wide, stately poster bed, she mourned the loss of her aunt and wished she could go home, and leave all this heartache behind.
When word reached Chad of Abigail's death, he immediately put in a call to Tucker Grove. When Lily answered, he was struck by the quiet, subdued tone of her voice. The absence of its usual vibrancy told him all he needed to know about how hard she was taking her aunt's death.
“I just heard,” he told her, “I'm so sorry, Lily. How are you holding up?”
“I guess I'm surviving but that's about all I can say.” She paused and he heard her take a breath. “Oh, Chad, I want to come home. Now! Today!” She paused again and this time he heard her sniff back tears. “But there's so much to take care of first.”
“I know, sweetheart. Is there anything I can do from here?”
“No, nothing. Except...”
“Except what?”
She was quiet for a long moment.
“Think of me,” her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it clearly. “I need to know you are thinking of me.”
“Always. You are never far from my thoughts, Lillianne.”
There was another moment of silence.
“When I come home...”
“Yes?”
“When I come home, will you stay? Or would you rather come back to Kentucky?”
“What would you like me to do?”
“I want you to stay.”
His response was as tender as his smile.
“Then I'll stay. And I'll be here waiting when you get home.”
Three months later, with the heat of the July sun beating down on her, Lillianne Welch returned to the Bar W on horseback, riding alongside the wagon bearing her belongings that was being driven by her old friend and foreman, Randall. She'd left nearly all of her fine clothes behind at Tucker Grove, bringing only a few of the less opulent for any special occasions that might arise. The clothes she had worn to Kentucky were safely packed away in one of the trunks. She refused to dispose of them even though she had gained just enough healthy weight that they no longer fit. In their place she had ordered a new wardrobe fashioned after the gauchos she had seen some Argentine cowboys wear in a wild west show. Her “split skirts,” as the seamstress called them, thus allowed her to satisfy society's rules of decorum while still allowing her freedom of movement and, most importantly, to ride unencumbered once again. If she never saw another side saddle, it would be too soon!
As they approached the ranch house she saw Fiona emerge onto the porch, followed closely by Chad. Both were smiling as she rode up.
“Oh, welcome home, Miss Lily!” Fiona cried then grabbed Lily in a tight hug when she stepped onto the porch. “It's so good to have you home!”
Lily returned the hug just as tightly and breathed in Fiona's familiar, cinnamon scent.
“It's good to be home, Fiona.”
Pulling away, Fiona gave Lily an approving once over.
“You're looking good. I was worried you might have become puny so I made some of your favorite cookies just this morning to start fattening you up. But I see they won't be necessary.”
Lily laughed.
“On the contrary. They're as necessary to me now as they were when I was a girl. They remind me that I'm home.”
Fiona glanced over her shoulder and smiled knowingly.
“I'll just leave you two to say hello, then.” Turning her attention to the man on the wagon, she called out to her husband, “Randall! You come inside for some lemonade. You can bring Miss Lily's things in in a little while.”
Once the screen door closed behind the older couple, Lily smiled up at Chad.
“Hi.”
He smiled in return and moved a step closer.
“Hi yourself.”
“Glad to see me?”
“Yeah, I am. I was beginning to think I'd have to hire another cowhand if you didn't show up soon.”
“Is that all I am? Another cowhand?”
He shook his head.
“No. Never another anything.” Stepping closer still, he brushed the backs of his fingers along her delicate jawline. “Just everything.”
She leaned her face into his hand as it cupped her cheek.
“You've been thinking of me.”
“Every moment of every day.”
“And I've been thinking of you, too.”
“Have you now?”
“Um hmm.” She gazed up at him with soft, languorous emerald eyes. “And about you waiting here. It was making my coming home...”
“Yes?”
“Almost worthwhile.”
Chad busted out laughing as he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him as she held him in return.
“Almost, huh?” He pulled away slightly to lift her chin with a gentle finger and his voice deepened. “Then let me make it completely worthwhile.”
Their lips met in a gentle, exploratory kiss.
“And now?” he asked huskily when he drew an inch or so away, and returned her dreamy smile with a satisfied one of his own.
“I do believe, Mr. Granger, that you've just made my coming home very worthwhile.”
A classic, and classy, romance. You also combined the myth of Victorian opulence and taming the old West. I learned three new words and a bit about human nature.
I found Abigail's sudden dementia a bit strange and wondered what happened to Caleb. Was he not Lily's uncle? And, based on their affection, if Abigail came to love Lily, did she have children, was Caleb her husband, or did she give more money to Lily?
Erotic Interracial/ Reincarnation/ Suspense]
Gale Sinclair is a marriage counselor who has broken the cardinal rule of psychotherapy and fallen in love with his client, Zoelle Sutherland.
He needs a wife. She needs a reason to trust him. He fell for her at first sight. She, not so much.
If you’re into engaging romantic stories with heart and humor, together with complex family dynamics, you’ll love His Practically Perfect Pla
Kansas 1900
