“Yes. His father’s a bull rider named Rance, but I’m sure he’s retired from that by now. The last letter my family got from Heather was postmarked in Sheridan, but that was years ago. I’m trying to find out if anybody remembers them or has a forwarding address.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anybody named Cade Marlowe.”
“Oh.” In spite of her desire for information, she was relieved.
“But if you want to leave your number, I could ask around. Someone might have heard something.”
“Thank you. You must be Mrs. Padgett. The friend who suggested I call is Ben Radcliffe.”
“Oh, Ben!” The woman’s voice warmed. “Yes, I’m Rosie Padgett. Ben’s such a great guy, and when it comes to making saddles, he’s a real artist.”
“Um, yes, he certainly is.” Ben was a saddle maker?
As she gave her number to Rosie Padgett and said her goodbyes, she kept thinking about Ben’s profession. His odd timing for coming to look at horses coincided with Sarah’s birthday—a significant one, at that. She’d wondered all along why Jack would agree to host a potential customer during his mother’s big celebration. Jack didn’t strike her as the kind of man who put business ahead of family gatherings.
Ben could have come after Christmas, or he could have waited until the weather warmed. Yet here he was, staying in the bosom of the family and attending Sarah’s birthday party. But if he’d designed a custom saddle for Sarah, then his sudden appearance the day before her birthday made perfect sense. And of course he’d be invited to stay so he could see her reaction to it.
After booting up her computer, Molly searched for Ben’s saddle-making operation. Once she found the site and scrolled through the photos of his work, she was almost positive this was why he was here. And it was supposed to be a surprise.
Well, cool. She’d always loved uncovering secrets. Knowing that Ben was an artisan on a secret mission made him more intriguing than ever. She wasn’t the least bit artistic, but she admired those who were.
She knew Ben was good with his mouth because he played a damned fine harmonica. If he’d landed a commission from the Chance family to create a saddle for their beloved matriarch, then he must be good with his hands, too. Add in his fine physique, and it amounted to the sort of man very few women could resist.
She wondered where the saddle was hidden. Probably not in the house where Sarah might accidentally find it. He wouldn’t have left it in his truck where it would be difficult for her cousins to see it. The barn wasn’t a good spot, either, because Sarah might go down there. She loved taking bits of carrot to Bertha Mae, her favorite horse.
“Molly?” Sarah’s voice traveled up the stairs. “Are you having any luck? Dinner’s ready.”
“I’ll be right down!” She shut off her computer.
Then, because she could, she brushed her hair again and put a touch of blusher on her cheeks and the merest hint of gloss on her lips. She’d lived with two brothers, so she knew that most men didn’t notice subtle makeup. They just thought a woman looked good and assumed it was her own healthy color coming through.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Sarah was there holding a wine glass. “I thought you’d want to take the rest of your wine in to dinner.”
“Great! Thank you.” She followed Sarah over to the hallway where Pete and Ben waited for them.
“What happened with the Padgetts?” Ben asked. “Did you talk to them?”
“I talked to Rosie Padgett. Very nice lady. She didn’t know anybody named Cade Marlowe, but she took my name and number in case she can find out anything through her contacts with social services.” She couldn’t spend much time looking at Ben because she was liable to start smiling. She knew his secret, and it might show.
“Well, that’s something, anyway.” Ben sounded wary. He might be worried she’d spill the beans. “You never can tell. She might turn up some information that would help you.”
Molly wished she could reassure him that she wouldn’t reveal the secret. “She might, although I realized when I made the call that I had mixed feelings. What if she finds out something bad happened to my aunt or my cousin, or both of them? I’ve always assumed I’d find them and orchestrate a touching reunion with the rest of the family.”
“That’s because you’re an optimist,” Pete said. “Don’t ever apologize for that. It’s an admirable trait.”
“Yes, but given the fact that we’ve heard nothing from either of them in years, what are the odds that they’re both okay?” She saw the hesitation in each of their expressions. “See, maybe I don’t want to keep searching. Maybe I don’t want to know the truth.”
Sarah put an arm around her shoulders. “You could call that lady back in the next few days and tell her you’ve changed your mind. It’s nearly Christmas. I doubt she’ll start investigating until the New Year.”
“Thanks. I might do that. Hey, aren’t we supposed to head to the dining room? As I recall, Mary Lou doesn’t take kindly to people who are late for dinner.”
“She doesn’t,” Pete said. “And she told me to give her thirty minutes or so. It’s been forty. I think we’d better move it.” He started off with Sarah at his side.
Ben followed, but Molly put a restraining hand on his arm. When he turned to her, she mouthed the words I know.
His eyes widened.
“I won’t say anything,” she murmured before starting down the hall.
“Thanks.” Ben matched her stride and kept his voice low. “I was worried.”
“Don’t be.”
He let out a breath. “I’m so glad you have a brain.”
That made her laugh. “Me, too.”
They continued down the hall to the small family dining room adjacent to the larger one used when the hands gathered for lunch every day. Molly loved that meal, too, because the atmosphere was completely different. The main dining room had four round tables that each seated eight, and many days they were all filled.
The Chance brothers attended whenever possible, sometimes with their wives. Gabe’s wife, Morgan, often brought all three of their kids when she came, and Jack’s wife, Josie, would bring little Archie so he could play with his cousins. Nick’s vet practice sometimes kept him away, but his wife, Dominique, liked to be there if she wasn’t in the middle of mounting one of her photography shows. When their adopted son Lester wasn’t in school, he came to lunch, too. Add in the ranch hands, and the room became a noisy free-for-all.
Tonight, though, the room was in shadows and light beckoned from the more intimate family dining room through a set of double doors. A rustic metal chandelier hung over a linen-covered table set with china, crystal and silverware. Molly felt the family connection here, because gracious living had been a part of her heritage, too.
She’d researched her great-grandfather and great-grandmother Gallagher, parents of her Grandpa Seth and her Great Aunt Nelsie. The Gallaghers, it turned out, had traveled from Baltimore and had brought with them the customs of a genteel society. So when she sat at this table at the Last Chance Ranch and unfolded her cloth napkin, she thought about how the tradition of elegant dining had been passed down through three generations.
Hers was the fourth, and she already used cloth napkins in her small rental home. She was collecting silver and china. After she had her own family, she’d pull out all the stops.
Sarah and Pete sat across the table from Molly and Ben. While Mary Lou served the dinner, Ben asked questions about the breeding program at the Last Chance. He mentioned his interest in Calamity Sam and suggested he might begin a breeding program of his own in Sheridan.