The Rancher And The Amnesiac Bride Read online

  “Poor, dear old Max,” Josie said with a shake of her head.

  Settling on a variety of clothes, she left space in the suitcase for her cosmetic bag, which she’d tuck in the next morning.

  Once again she made arrangements for her mail to be collected, called the cleaning service to tell them to proceed on schedule with the upkeep of her apartment, then left a message on Michael’s answering machine. She told her brother she was going on a trip and they should plan to have dinner together when she returned.

  She was ready to go, she realized, except for the biggy—the dreaded task of informing her grandfather that she was leaving Freemont Springs for an undetermined length of time.

  Josie sank onto the sofa in the living room and stared into space.

  From the time she was old enough to talk, Joseph Wentworth had possessed an uncanny ability to know when his granddaughter wasn’t telling the truth. It was very annoying.

  How on earth was she going to bluff her way through the explanation for her sudden exodus without divulging to Joseph the real reason for her trip?

  Somehow she had to pull this off. It would be unkind to tell her grandfather about Sabrina without knowing the true place the woman had had in Jack’s life.

  If, indeed Jack had been planning to marry Sabrina Jensen, Joseph would want to spend time with the young woman talking about Jack, sharing stories and memories. Sabrina would be a most welcome link to Jack, a living, breathing, loving connection.

  No, her granddad mustn’t know about Sabrina at this point. He didn’t deserve another disappointment.

  “So?” Josie said aloud. “How do I explain where I’m going and why I’m going there without spilling the beans to Granddad?”

  First, she thought, she wouldn’t make her announcement in person. She’d never figured out how her granddad always knew when she was fibbing, but it was probably telegraphed in her eyes. No, she wouldn’t run the risk of going to the estate to talk to her grandfather.

  “Wing it,” she said, then reached for the telephone.

  She punched in the familiar numbers and seconds later greeted Evvie. Within moments after that, she heard her grandfather’s voice.

  “Hello, Josie,” he said.

  “Hi, Granddad. How are you?”

  “Fairly well. What can I do for you this evening, Princess?”

  “Me? Well, I called to tell you I’ve decided to go on a trip. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. I’m driving to...wherever I end up driving to. I’m not certain when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep in touch, so there’s no reason for you to worry. Okay? Bye, Granddad.”

  “Hold it, young lady,” Joseph said sternly.

  Josie grimaces. “Yes?”

  “You’re chattering like a magpie. Just slow down and tell me why you’ve suddenly decided to leave Freemont Springs, destination unknown.”

  “I need...I need to get away, get my emotions under control again. I can’t plan a charity ball in the state I’m in. I have...yes, I have unfinished emotional business about Jack I have to deal with.”

  There, Josie thought Not bad. She hadn’t really lied—just sort of.

  “I see,” Joseph said. “Well, that makes sense, I guess.”

  It did? Fancy that. She was definitely on a roll.

  “However,” Joseph said, “I’ve taught you that you can’t run from your troubles, Josie. You have to square off against them, stand steady and tall.”

  “I realize that, Granddad, but I think some quiet time away is just the ticket for my gloomy state of mind.” She shrugged. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll turn around and come home.”

  “Yes, all right. Do you at least know what direction you’re headed in?”

  “I thought I’d start out toward the Muskogee area.”

  “That’s pretty country.” He paused. “You’ll telephone me?”

  “Yes, of course. Please don’t fret about me, Granddad. I’ll drive very carefully. I love you. Take good care of yourself while I’m away.”

  “Yes, I will. I love you, too, Princess. I hope you find what you’re looking for on this journey.”

  “So do I. More than you know. Good night, Granddad.”

  “Good night, Princess.”

  Josie replaced the receiver slowly, then sighed.

  Oh, Jack, she thought. Who is Sabrina Jensen? Did you love her, plan to marry her? Did you actually fall in love, my dear brother? If that’s true, I’ll find Sabrina, and welcome her into our family. I promise you that.

  Josie got to her feet, suddenly weary from her busy day.

  Before she slipped between the cool satin sheets on her bed, she tucked the letter and the blue velvet box containing the diamond ring into her purse.

  The next morning Josie awoke feeling almost lighthearted. There was still a dark cloud of despair hovering over her that would send a chill coursing through her when she least expected it. But in the light of this new day, she at least had a sense of purpose, a mission, instead of focusing entirely on the loss of her brother.

  She showered, dressed in snug jeans, a red sweater and white tennis shoes, then had a cup of hot tea.

  A short time later she placed her suitcase in the trunk of her pearly blue BMW and drove out of the underground garage.

  Her first stop, she decided, would be her favorite bakery. She would indulge in a bag of cinnamon doughnut holes to snack on as she drove. The calorieladen purchase would be a special treat to herself.

  The bakery was two blocks away and Josie found a parking spot right in front. Named simply Freemont Springs Bakery, it was owned by Millie Williams and Bea Hansen, two women in their late fifties. They were excellent pastry chefs, were friendly and outgoing, and enjoyed a juicy tidbit of gossip even more than they did their delicious culinary offerings.

  A bell tinkled merrily over the door as Josie entered the store and inhaled the mouth-watering aroma of baked goods. Both Bea and Millie appeared instantly from the rear.

  “Josie Wentworth,” Bea said. “How wonderful to see you.” She frowned. “Oh, my darling girl, we are so sorry about Jack. I still find it hard to believe that he’s...” She shook her head. “Our condolences, dear.”

  “Thank you,” Josie said, managing to produce a small smile.

  “I remember when Jack was a boy,” Millie said. “He went everywhere on his bicycle, with no thought to the distance. He used to pedal from your grandfather’s house all the way over here to have cream puffs. How that boy loved those cream puffs.”

  “He still does...did,” Josie said quietly. “Cream puffs with chocolate filling.”

  “Oh, yes, always chocolate inside,” Millie said. “We worked out a trade. He’d wash the front window and he’d get three chocolate-filled cream puffs.” She frowned. “This must be such a difficult time for you and your family, Josie.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” Josie said. “Well, I mustn’t stand here chatting. I’d like a dozen cinnamon doughnut holes, please.”

  “Sharing breakfast with someone special?” Bea asked as Millie moved around her to fetch Josie’s order.

  “Not.” Josie smiled. “I’m going on a road trip and I plan to nibble on the way.”

  “Oh?” Bea leaned slightly forward. “Where are you going, dear?”

  Josie shrugged. “Wherever the road takes me. I need some time alone right now. I’ll start off down Muskogee way and see what unfolds.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” Millie said, plopping doughnut holes in a waxed bag. “A woman alone on the road?”

  “Not if I use common sense,” Josie said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “One dozen cinnamon doughnut holes,” Millie said, placing the bag on top of the tall, glass-fronted display case.

  Josie opened her purse at the same time she lifted it up to set it on the counter. The bottom of the tapestry purse caught on the edge of the counter and pitched forward, spilling some of the contents.

  “Oh, drat,” Josie said. “I’m sorry.”

  She bega
n to scoop her belongings back into the purse. Bea bent down to retrieve something from the floor. Josie groaned inwardly when Bea straightened again with the blue velvet ring box in her hand.

  “Land’s sake,” Bea declared, beaming. “Is this what I think it is? Is there a ring in this pretty box, Josie Wentworth? An engagement ring?”

  “Oh, well, I...” Josie started.

  “You’re going off to decide if you want to marry him,” Millie said, clasping her hands beneath her chin.

  “Him who?” Josie frowned.

  “That is so romantic.” Bea gave a wistful sigh. “Here I thought you were taking private time to deal with your grief over Jack. Who is he, Josie?”

  Good grief, Josie thought. Whatever she said to these two lovable ladies might as well be announced on the six-o’clock news. She certainly couldn’t tell them the truth about that blue velvet box. Well, they didn’t possess her grandfather’s ability to know when she was telling tall tales.

  Go for it, Josie.

  “He’s... Oh, my.” Josie placed one hand over her heart and smiled as she stared into space.

  “Yes?” Bea and Millie said in unison.

  “You don’t know him,” Josie said, looking at the pair again. “He’s from Texas. He has a zillion oil wells in Texas, you see, and had flown over to Tulsa for a charity auction that I attended.” She sighed wistfully. “He just swept me off my feet, sent dozens of roses to my hotel room, wined and dined me until my head was in the clouds. It was all so-o-o romantic. He proposed to me under the stars.”

  “Oh, my,” Bea said, “isn’t that enchanting?”

  “He proposed,” Millie prompted. “And you said?”

  “Yes, well, I have to contemplate, weigh and measure,” Josie said. “Do I want to marry him? Leave Oklahoma?” She reached across the counter, plucked the ring box from Bea’s hand, then popped it back into her purse. “So many questions. I must be off, dear friends. My mind is a muddle. How much do I owe you for my snack?”

  Bea told her, then asked, “You will tell us what you decide to do, won’t you?”

  “Of course.” Josie removed her wallet from her purse. “I wouldn’t dream of keeping something of this magnitude from you. Heavens, I wonder if there’s a bakery as fine as yours in Texas? A future without yummy doughnut holes would be very bleak.”

  “We could mail them to you.” Millie said.

  “There’s a thought.” Josie smiled brightly. She paid for her purchase and headed quickly for the door.

  “Ta-ta,” she said.

  “Have a good trip, dear,” Millie called.

  As Josie drove away from the bakery, she blew a puff of air up over her flushed face.

  That encounter, she thought, had not been an auspicious beginning to her new role as detective. Imagine, spilling the evidence all over the floor. Cripes.

  She’d better get her act together before she took on old Max. The rancher probably had a sixth sense about people, borne of living and surviving on the land.

  She’d have to be friendly and sincere to get past Max Carter and close to Sabrina Jensen—if Sabrina was still at the Single C Ranch. Fine. No problem. She was a friendly and sincere person. This mission would be a piece of cake.

  “No, it will be a doughnut hole,” Josie said, then popped one into her mouth. “Mmm.”

  After a quick stop at a convenience store for a soft drink to accompany the pastries, Josie joined the multitude of other drivers on the busy city streets.

  Escaping at last from the heavy traffic when she reached the interstate, Josie pressed harder on the gas pedal. The expensive car responded instantly. She wriggled deeper into the bucket seat and settled in to enjoy the drive and the lush scenery that stretched as far as the eye could see on both sides of the highway.

  There were sections of towering pine trees that made her think of the holidays, which were creeping closer. A Christmas without Jack, she thought. Yes, there’d been a few times in the past when he’d been unable to be home on the special day due to an assignment for the SEABEES. But they’d left the tree up at their grandfather’s house and reenacted the event for Jack when he finally arrived, complete with a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.

  But this year, and all the years to come, Jack wouldn’t celebrate Christmas with his family. Not Christmas or his birthday or—

  “Stop it, Josie,” she whispered, as she felt tears sting her eyes.

  She mustn’t dwell on who she had lost. She had to concentrate on who she was hoping to find—Sabrina Jensen, a woman who might be the one who had finally captured the elusive heart of Jack Wentworth.

  With a decisive nod Josie mentally pushed aside her sorrowful thoughts of a future without Jack. She concentrated on the traffic, as well as the beauty of nature within her view. In addition to the pines, there were hickory and oak trees, their leaves a kaleidoscope of vibrant fall colors.

  She suddenly remembered the long walks in the woods with Granddad, Jack and Michael. Every year, Joseph Wentworth would gather the children and take them for a leisurely stroll through the beautiful trees that boasted leaves touched by nature’s paintbrush. The breeze would hum through the drying leaves on the branches above, and small feet would crunch the carpet of leaves below.

  “Listen,” Joseph would always say to his three young charges. “That’s the song of autumn you’re hearing. Once a year the colored leaves sing a special, magical melody.”

  Josie had been enthralled. She’d start watching the leaves for weeks before they began to turn, waiting with tingling anticipation for the traditional walk in the woods and the magical music.

  “Granddad—” she’d finally yell, running through the house in search of him “—it’s time! It’s time! We’ve got to go to the woods to hear the song of autumn!”

  A soft smile formed on Josie’s lips as she glanced again at the gorgeous trees along the road.

  Beautiful memories. Her grandfather had given her so much as a child, not just material things but gifts of the heart, as well. Granted, he’d spoiled her rotten, but she’d always known she was deeply loved.

  Joseph had been a hard taskmaster, too. He’d been very strict about grades at school, accepting nothing less than perfection from the three Wentworth offspring. If one of them struggled with a subject, playtime would be forfeited for grueling hours with a tutor.

  Josie and Jack had taken their grandfather’s somewhat heavy-handed authority in stride. Michael, however, had rebelled during his teens, resulting in frequent shouting matches with Joseph.

  Even though Michael was now twenty-seven, the pair still locked horns with disturbing regularity.

  He was the head of the family, Joseph would roar, and his orders were to be followed without question. Michael’s response was usually an angry exit, complete with a slammed door. He would disappear for several hours, not returning until his temper had cooled.

  Josie pulled herself from her rambling thoughts as she saw a sign at the edge of the highway announcing that the exit ramp for Muskogee was five miles ahead.

  She would, she knew, have to locate the Single C Ranch by following the directions she’d written on the paper tucked carefully next to her in the bucket seat. That was definitely a daunting thought. The idea of using a map she herself had drawn did not instill great confidence that she’d reach the desired destination.

  Think positively, she told herself. She would find the Single C, Max Carter and Sabrina Jensen. One. Two. Three.

  Josie left the interstate at the designated exit and felt a surge of excitement.

  Every mile covered brought her closer to Sabrina. Within the next hour or so they might very well be face-to-face and chatting like sisters, she and the woman her dear brother Jack, it appeared, had loved and planned to marry.

  Chapter Three

  Nearly three hours later a very frustrated and stressed-to-the-maximum Josie glowered at the iron archway that spelled out “Single C” above the entrance to a dirt road.

  Sh
e had managed, somehow, to get hopelessly lost despite her lengthy detailed map. Now she was hungry, thirsty and irritated beyond belief.

  “You’d better not give me any grief, Max Carter,” Josie muttered, pressing on the gas pedal. “I’m not in the mood, mister.”

  The dirt road was filled with ruts, forcing Josie to drive at a crawl, which did nothing for her totally deteriorated frame of mind. Dust billowed up and over the car like a giant marshmallow, leaving a gritty coating on the shiny surface.

  She finally emerged from the dusty cocoon as she reached a narrow strip of gravel spread in front of a medium-size, one-story wood house. It was white with brown trim that was in need of paint in places.

  A porch ran across the entire front of the structure. It was bare, without even one chair to sit on to enjoy an evening breeze.

  Three wide steps leading to the porch sagged in the middle. Weeds were the landscaping of choice between the gravel and the house.

  “Charming,” Josie said dryly. “Old Max obviously isn’t into tender lovin’ care regarding his home.”

  Josie turned off the ignition, then flipped the visor down to check her appearance in the mirror. She ran a comb through her hair, applied fresh lipstick and told herself to smile.

  Friendly and sincere, she mentally repeated like a mantra. Friendly and sincere.

  She got out of the car, flung the strap of her purse over one shoulder, then straightened the waistband of her sweater. After taking a deep, steadying breath, she started toward the house, weaving her way among the weeds that grew through the cracks in the sidewalk leading to the front steps.

  The steps themselves she tested cautiously, not certain the sagging boards would support her weight. Finally arriving safely at the front door, she lifted her chin to a determined tilt and knocked firmly.

  When there was no response, she knocked again, straining to hear any indication that someone was inside and planning to answer the summons.

  Dam it, she thought with a sigh. There was obviously no one in the house. Well, that made sense, she supposed. This was a working ranch. Old Max wouldn’t be hanging out in his living room in the middle of the afternoon watching soap operas on television. There was not, it would seem, a Mrs. Max.