Chapter 1
San Joaquin Valley, California, Early Spring 1884
I used to look forward to letters, especially from kinfolk we don’t see very often. Not anymore. Any letter in a cream envelope makes my heart skip, and not with glad anticipation.
“Look at this, Melinda!” Andrea Carter stepped out of the Fresno post office waving a cream-colored envelope. “A letter with a New York postmark.” She held it up, squinting against the noonday sun. Mail for the Circle C ranch did not often include letters from clear across the country. “It must be from Aunt Lydia.”
“Maybe it’s not,” Melinda said, holding out her hand. “Other people live in New York City too.”
Andi kept the letter just out of her sister’s reach and pointed to the upper left-hand corner. “The return address says ‘Carter.’ Who else could it be from?”
“Aunt Rebecca,” Melinda teased.
Andi groaned. Their fussbudget aunt had left California right after Christmas to spend the rest of the winter with her brother’s family in New York. It would be just like her to interfere from afar and send long-distance promptings for proper behavior.
“Perhaps Rebecca is writing to persuade Mother to send you back East for a visit. An early birthday gift?” Melinda’s face turned dreamy. “Aunt Rebecca took me to New York for my sixteenth birthday. It was a whirlwind of delight.”
Andi’s heart sank clear to her toes. I’d rather go on another cattle drive.
She kept that unladylike thought to herself and regarded the envelope with suspicion. The excitement of getting news from family back East lost its appeal. She only half-listened while Melinda prattled on about shopping for fashions fresh from Paris, dining in fancy restaurants, and attending a concert by the New York Philharmonic orchestra.
The other half of Andi’s mind whirled with anxiety. For reasons known only to God and Aunt Rebecca, Father’s older sister took particular interest in her youngest niece’s introduction into polite society. She badgered Mother constantly about Andi’s lack of decorum and improper attire.
“It’s high time that girl’s skirts were let down and her hair pinned up,” Rebecca had declared on Christmas Day. Her holiday visit was filled with similar decrees, to which Mother simply replied, “We’ll see.”
Andi was grateful that her mother had so far managed to keep Aunt Rebecca at bay. But in two short months Andi would turn sixteen. It was possible Mother might agree to expand Andi’s horizons, and off she’d go—even if she balked—to New York or one of the other Atlantic states with Aunt Rebecca. Or worse, to the European continent.
Andi slumped and handed over the letter, as well as the rest of the mail. “You sure know how to dump cold water all over me.”
Melinda’s blue eyes danced with merriment. “Don’t look so glum, Andi. I was just kidding. This isn’t from Aunt Rebecca. Her letters always come in lavender envelopes.”
Andi perked up. “In that case . . .” She snatched the envelope back and hiked herself up on Taffy. “Let’s see what Aunt Lydia has to say.”
Melinda gave Andi a little shake of her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“It’s addressed to the Carter family. That’s us, Melinda. I want to make sure it’s not from Aunt Rebecca. She could have borrowed stationery from Aunt Lydia.”
Melinda looked thoughtful. “And if it’s from Rebecca?”
“Then I’ll rip it up.”
“You better not.” All amusement faded from Melinda’s voice. She crossed her arms and gave Andi her grown-up, I-know-better-than-you look. “Wait until we get home. Mother will read the letter at supper.”
“For pity’s sake, Melinda! What’s the matter with you lately? Aren’t you the least bit curious? Or has being courted by Peter for so doggone long dulled your wits?”
At Melinda’s furious glare, Andi reddened. That wasn’t very nice. Why do I always blurt the first thing that comes to my mind?
Andi loved her sister, but sometimes she could be maddening. Just last month, Peter Wilson had finally—after two long years—gathered up his courage and asked for Melinda’s hand in marriage. She should be giddy with joy, not sober as a spinster schoolmarm.
“Honestly, Melinda. If having a beau and being courted means I have to turn serious and dull all the time, then no thanks. No beau for me. Not ever.”
Melinda silently mounted her sorrel horse, Panda. Her expression shouted louder than words: Stubborn little sister. Do what you like and see if I care! She nudged Panda and took off down the street at a lope.
Andi knew Melinda really did care. She was only trying to keep Andi out of trouble. Clutching the letter from back East, Andi touched her heels to Taffy’s flank and caught up with Melinda a mile out of town. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” She held out the letter that had cut a sudden rift between them. “I can wait. Here. Take it.”
Melinda shook her head. “No, Andi, you’re right. Sometimes I do act like a cranky old aunt. I guess I’m just a little nervous about planning the wedding and”—she took a sharp breath—“leaving home.”
“You are?” Andi’s eyes widened at this secret slice of Melinda’s heart. Leaving home did sound scary. She vowed right then to be nicer to Melinda before she left home for good.
Melinda nodded. She grinned an apology for her earlier bossiness. “The letter’s addressed to all of us. Let’s hear what the folks have to say.”
Their relationship restored, Andi smiled back.
She slowed her horse and dropped the reins, giving Taffy her head. Before Melinda could change her mind and get sensible again, Andi tore open the envelope and pulled out three pages of onionskin. Lifting the delicate paper to her nose, she breathed in the faint scent of lilac.
“It’s from Aunt Lydia, all right,” she announced in relief. “I’d recognize that perfumed stationery anywhere. And her writing isn’t spidery like Aunt Rebecca’s. It’s rows and rows of perfect script.” She smoothed out the letter, relaxed in the saddle, and read, “Dear Ones out West.”
She looked up. “See, Melinda? She did write to all of us.”
“You’re just trying to soothe your conscience.”
Andi laughed. “You bet I am.” She took a breath and plunged into Lydia’s letter:
It’s been so long since our last correspondence. Benjamin and I hope you are faring well. Thank you for the Christmas gifts you sent by Rebecca’s hand. They were much appreciated, as was the delightful news she brought concerning all of you. Justin and Lucy’s little Samuel James sounds like such a blessing!
Andi paused. Aunt Lydia was right about Sammy. He was a blessing—and the main reason Andi had forgiven her oldest brother for marrying Lucy Hawkins a year and a half ago.
The baby had just turned four months old, and he had already wrapped his tiny hands and feet around Andi’s heart. Best of all, Justin and Lucy seemed to spend more time out at the ranch than they did at their house in town.
Rebecca seems so happy since Katherine and the children moved in with her three years ago. I know she misses them dreadfully and plans on returning to San Francisco before too long.
“I wonder if Kate and the kids miss her. I bet they’re having a fine time running Auntie’s mansion on their own.” Andi shook her head. “Our big sister has a lot more gumption than I. Living with Aunt Rebecca must take loads and loads of—”
“If you’re going to talk discourteously, I’ll take the letter,” Melinda interrupted. She held out her hand.
Andi ignored her and kept reading.
Which brings me to my reason for writing. Benjamin and I are grateful for your understanding of the concerns I expressed in my previous letter, and we humbly accept your gracious invitation to take Daniel for an extended stay on the ranch. Traveling arrangements are underway for Rebecca and Daniel to head West in the coming weeks.
Andi paused. A frown furrowed her brow. She gave Melinda an accusing glare. “What’s all this? Have you heard anything about our cousin staying on the ranch? I sure haven’t. I’m going on sixteen, but still nobody tells me anything.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Mother didn’t tell me, either.” Melinda bit her lip, a sure sign of her uneasiness. “Go on,” she urged. “Read a little more. I prefer not to be caught unawares. Daniel is . . .” She cleared her throat. “Never mind. Just read.”
Andi skimmed the fine script to find her place.
Benjamin insists that you be fully aware of the situation with Daniel. We believe time away from the city and its negative influences will greatly benefit our son, as well as give us time to decide the best course of action regarding Daniel’s future. Working on your ranch in the fresh, open air may well turn the boy around.
Andi looked up. “‘Turn the boy around’? This is getting interesting.” When Melinda didn’t reply, she eagerly continued.
Please understand, Elizabeth. Daniel is a good boy, although perhaps a bit high-strung and headstrong.
Andi’s heart skipped a beat. Aunt Lydia’s letter had just turned a corner. It now sounded like a personal plea to Mother. Andi suddenly felt like an eavesdropper, but she couldn’t keep herself from learning more.
I was heartbroken when he was expelled from Porter Academy last year, but Benjamin insisted it was nothing more than an unfortunate misunderstanding. This latest string of schoolboy pranks, however, has turned serious and resulted in Daniel’s expulsion from his third school this year. Charges have also been brought over an alleged assault—
“Stop,” Melinda interrupted. “I think you’ve read enough. Put it away.”
“Put it away? Why? I want to find out more about this cousin of ours. Especially if he’s coming for a visit. I’ve never met him and—”
“You’ve met him,” Melinda said. “We all did. At Father’s funeral a long time ago.”
Andi furrowed her brow, but no childhood image came to mind. Father’s death all those years ago was just a blur.
“I don’t think Aunt Lydia intended this part of the letter for all our ears,” Melinda went on. “At least not until Mother reads it first.”
Andi opened her mouth to snap out a protest, but she clamped it shut at Melinda’s troubled look. It warned that she knew something about Daniel—something she was unwilling to share just now.
Andi sighed. She would learn nothing by arguing. The harder Andi pushed, the tighter Melinda’s lips would stay sealed. The only insight she’d gleaned was the sinking feeling that inviting Daniel to stay on the Circle C ranch was probably not a good idea.