“‘Hannah, I want you to have half of my farm…’”
“What?” The question exploded out of Ethan as his tilting chair slammed on the floor. “Read that again?”
Dan sighed. “Please, Ethan. Just wait. Let me finish. ‘Hannah, you get this half of the farm on one condition. You stay here in Riverbend for six months, and you stay on the farm. When six months is over, you can do what you want with your half. If you leave before the six months are up, you don’t get half.’” Dan glanced up at Hannah. “Do you understand what I just read?”
Though Hannah nodded, she struggled to process the concept. She chanced a quick look at the man beside her.
Ethan rocked in his chair as well, his face hard and angry. Not difficult to see he didn’t like the idea, either.
CAROLYNE AARSEN
and her husband Richard live on a small ranch in northern Alberta, where they have raised four children and numerous foster children, and are still raising cattle. Carolyne crafts her stories in her office with a large west-facing window, through which she can watch the changing seasons while struggling to make her words obey.
Finally a Family
Carolyne Aarsen
Published by Steeple Hill Books™
Accept one another then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.
—Romans 15:7
To the children who never had a choice.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
So this was the town Sam had scurried back to thirteen years ago.
Hannah rocked back and forth on her feet as she looked up and down the main street of Riverbend, studying it through the eyes of one left behind for this place.
The downtown boasted older-style brick buildings and ash trees lining the street, the first hint of spring in the fresh green misting their bare branches. Pleasant enough.
Even though Sam wasn’t Hannah’s biological father, she thought his nine-year relationship with her and her mother would have given him some permanent stake in their lives. But this town and his extended family had obviously exerted a pull stronger than they had because in the thirteen years he was gone he never came back for her, or wrote or even phoned. Two days ago, however, Hannah received the news from someone named Dan that Sam had passed away three weeks earlier. Dan had politely requested that she come to Riverbend for the reading of Sam’s will.
Hannah glanced down Main Street and pulled a face. This town was too small for this big-city girl’s liking. Far removed from any major centre and with too many pickup trucks, Hannah thought, her attention drawn by a particularly loud red one making its way down the street toward her.
Hannah flipped open her cell phone and, though she’d had it on since she left Toronto, she checked her messages again. Nothing from Lizzie, her business partner, about how things were progressing on the purchase. Hannah had been reluctant to leave, but Lizzie had encouraged her, saying that nothing was going to happen in the next week, so here she was. She didn’t need to meet with the Westervelds till tomorrow, but curiosity had her come a day early. Just to explore and familiarize herself with Sam’s surroundings.
Hannah pushed back her own concerns as she drew in a long, slow breath, catching the tantalizing whiff of coffee blended with the distinctive scent of yeast and bread.
She rolled her stiff shoulders as the light changed, already anticipating the bite of the dark brew combined with a warm muffin. Or maybe a Danish.
A couple of young girls slipped past her and dashed across the street, waving at the driver of the noisy red pickup who had turned onto the main street and was parking in front of the bakery.
Then one of the girls bumped into a little boy coming out of the bakery.
The boy dropped his doughnut and his lip quivered as he looked at the treat now lying frosting-side down on the sidewalk. She hurried to his side and knelt in front of him. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He only nodded as she checked her pockets for loose change, but all that came up were a few nickels.
“Susie Corbett, get back here.” A man stepping out of the fancy red truck called out to the delinquent girls.
The shorter girl with the curly blond hair heeded the summons and slowed her steps. The other kept running.
“I said now, Susie.” While he barked out his demand, the man walked over to Hannah and the little boy.
“You okay, Todd?” he asked, though his gaze came to rest on Hannah.
His eyes, an unusual color of sage, fringed with thick, dark eyelashes, caught and held her attention. His finely shaped lips curved into a crooked smile emphasizing his hollow cheekbones. His expression clearly had one intention. “Thanks for helping,” he said, the timbre of his voice lowering and, in spite of knowing what he was playing at, Hannah felt a lift of attraction.
“Back at you.” She kept her smile aloof. No sense encouraging one of the locals on a quick visit.
She forced her attention back to the little boy. “Sorry, I don’t have enough change for another doughnut,” she said.
He sighed and nodded.
“That’s okay. Susie will pay,” the man said as the girl came nearer. “Won’t you, Susie? I think you owe Todd about fifty cents.”
“Uncle Ethan,” she wailed, but even as she protested, she dug in her pocket. “You won’t tell Mom, will you?” she asked as she handed the money over.
“Of course I won’t tell your mom, you little twerp. Just don’t act like such a toughie.” He made the letter V with his fingers and pointed them at his eyes. “Remember, I see everything.”
Susie gave a nervous laugh.
“Okay, Uncle Ethan.” She took a few hesitant steps backward. “Can I go now?”
Uncle Ethan flipped his hand toward her in a dismissive gesture. “Shoo. Run along.” Ethan handed the coins to the little boy, who took them with a quickly murmured thank-you and scooted inside the bakery.
When Hannah stood, Ethan looked at her again. This time she caught a hint of puzzlement in his eyes.
“Do I know you?”
Hannah laughed then. Any number of smart remarks came to mind, but his laugh answered hers before she could share any of them.
“That was as lame as a two-legged cat. Sorry.” He scratched his head, rearranging his hair.
Weekend cowboy, Hannah deduced, taking in the long legs clad in crisp blue jeans and the polished cowboy boots.
“It’s