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The Heiress of Covington Ranch (Samantha Wolf Mysteries Book 4) Page 7
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Page 7
Sam is speechless for a moment, something that doesn’t happen often. She simply doesn’t know what to say. Crossing to the desk, she picks up a framed picture and studies it. In it is a young, very pretty lady with brown hair. Standing next to her holding her arm is a tall, handsome Hispanic man. “Are these your parents?” Sam asks.
Nodding, Cassy takes the photo and runs a finger across it. “Yes. They met in college, where they were both majoring in chemistry. Mom started late because she dropped out of high school when she was sixteen. Grams was proud of her, though, because she got her GED and then eventually a scholarship. They got married the summer after they graduated, and then she had me. That was when she was twenty-nine.” Pausing, she blinks slowly and takes a breath.
“My mom died from cancer before I was one. Grams said that Dad loved her too much. He couldn’t handle losing her, or the thought of raising a kid alone. He took off a few months later, so Grams has raised me ever since. She came back here to Oceanside with me when I was around two.”
Setting the picture down, Cassy turns to the dresser and opens the bottom drawer. Taking out a box, she sets it on the bed, and the three girls sit around it. Once Cassy removes the lid, it’s evident what it is: her box of memories.
“She loved me.”
A binky, another picture of her as a baby being held by her mom, a lock of hair tied with a pink ribbon. Each item is placed carefully on the faded bedspread, the last one a newspaper clipping of her mom’s obituary.
“Of course she loved you,” Ally assures her, taking both of Cassy’s hands in her own. “I’m sure your grandma loves you, too.”
“She didn’t use to be like this,” Cassy says, pushing a family photo towards Ally. In it is a much younger version of her grandmother, standing with both of her parents at their wedding. “She was diagnosed with early dementia a little over three years ago. We did okay until last summer. I’ll never forget the day we were driving home from the store, and she got lost. It flustered her so much, that she drove off the road and into a fence. When we got home, she parked the car behind the house, and has never driven again.”
“Don’t you have any other family?” Sam asks, looking at some papers lying in the bottom of the box. Picking the one off the top, she studies it absently.
“No. Grams and I have each other. We don’t need anyone else.”
“What about neighbors? Or the doctor? Hasn’t anyone tried to…help you?” Ally presses.
“Grams was friends with one of the neighbors, who used to bring us dinner on Sundays and visit. But…she moved a couple of years ago to another state. The doctor’s office stopped calling once the phone got disconnected. I couldn’t figure out how to pay it,” Cassy laughs lightly. “Grams gets social security and some other state program deposited automatically, and the mortgage and everything else comes out of it every month.”
The document Sam is holding looks like a birth certificate. It has Cassy’s mom’s name on it, but the date doesn’t look right. Setting it back in the bottom of the shoebox with some other legal-looking stuff, it seems insignificant at the moment. All Sam can think about is how Cassy is alone, trying to take care of her sick grandma. Looking up, Sam tries to figure out how to say what’s on her mind, without upsetting her friend.
“She still has more good days than bad,” Cassy adds quickly, seeing the look of concern on both Sam and Ally’s faces. “She isn’t normally the way she is tonight. It’s just because I was gone, and it upset her. We walk together down to the store on the corner once a week for groceries, and Grams likes to cook dinner a couple of times a week. We play cards every evening and she normally tucks me in at night. We do okay.”
“Cassy, please let me tell my mom,” Sam pleads, not convinced. Cassy might think that they’re doing okay, but Sam is afraid of what could happen if her grandma’s condition gets any worse. “She can help you. I know she can!”
“No!” Cassy yells, scrambling backwards off the bed. “You can’t! You can’t tell anyone! They’ll take her away, Sam. They’ll put me in foster care and Grams in some mental facility. I’ll never see her again! I’ll never see you again! Please, Sam…Ally,” she begs, crying now. “She’s all I have!”
The raw fear on her friend’s face is too much for Sam. Standing, she approaches Cassy and draws her into a big hug. Ally joins in, and the three of them stand that way for several minutes.
“I won’t say anything, at least not for now,” Sam whispers. “But I can’t lie to my mom, so if she asks me about your home, I’ll have to tell her the truth.”
Cassy nods hesitantly, understanding that she can’t demand that Sam lie for her.
“But you have to promise me,” Sam adds, “that if things get any worse, you’ll let us help you. Okay?”
“Okay,” Cassy exhales, leaning her forehead against Sam’s shoulder. “I promise.”
13
RESTORATION
The following week, the girls work on the ranch every day after school. They get in a routine of riding the bus home, eating a snack, and then meeting on their bikes at the top of the hill. Cassy comes from the opposite direction, but the distance is almost the same. They end up having a couple of hours to pull weeds, rake, and trim trees.
Sam was afraid that she would have a hard time keeping her promise to Cassy, but fortunately, her mom hasn’t pressed for information. She knows her mom suspects things aren’t right, but she seems to be leaving it up to Sam to talk about it when she’s ready.
John was more than happy to take the three of them to the outlet grocery store on Sunday. Ally came up with the idea, and Cassy wound up getting three times the food she could normally afford at the pricey gas station store near her home.
Sam and Ally discussed the whole situation at length and decided to do everything possible to help Cassy. But they’ll have to turn to their parents if Grams gets any worse.
Sam’s thoughts continue to drift back over the second week of school, as she pedals up the increasingly familiar steep road. Although it was better than the first week, she’s still glad that it’s Friday. The constant pressure is tiresome, both socially and mentally. It’s been a struggle to keep up with the homework in addition to helping at the ranch, and her math is nearly impossible to understand. Thankfully, Hunter is better at it. The fact that she’s willing to give her brother the whole “I’m smarter than you” ammunition is a testament to how desperate she is for help.
“How did you do on your math test?” Ally huffs while standing on the pedals to get enough momentum.
“You must be reading my mind,” Sam responds. “I think I at least passed. But if I want to ever do anything after school again in the near future, let’s hope I got a C or better.”
Grinning at each other, Sam and Ally ride the rest of the way in comfortable silence. As they approach the entrance to the ranch, they spot John’s old bike leaning against the arch, but no sign of Cassy.
“Cassy!” Sam calls out, concerned when she doesn’t hear an answer right away.
“Cassy!” Ally adds, her voice reflecting the same apprehension.
“I’m in here!” Cassy finally answers. “Come check out this trail I found!”
Sam and Ally abandon their bikes and follow the sound of Cassy’s voice. They locate her on a barely recognizable pathway that leads off towards the back of the property.
“This is one of the trails that Ally and I always used to take,” Sam explains, smiling at the memory. “It’s been over a year, now, but it goes on forever.”
“Doesn’t this lead to some sort of monument?” Ally asks. She’s pulling at the long grass growing over the trampled dirt, and breaking back obstructing branches.
“Yeah. There’s a small lookout area part way down the hill,” Sam tells Cassy. “Another trail leads to it from the opposite side. You know the city park by the library?” Sam asks, and Cassy nods. “Well, there used to be a trailhead marker there, but it hasn’t been maintained since I don’t know when. I th
ink the lookout is a memorial or something that Mr. Covington paid for. At least, that’s the name on the plaque there.”
“We should work on clearing this trail after we’re done around the house,” Cassy suggests. “It would be cool to go hiking back in here!”
“What’s the point?” Ally says. “Unless we can figure out a way to help Lisa keep the property, we won’t be hiking on it.”
The three of them fall silent, each lost in thought.
The stillness is interrupted by the distinct sound of a car pulling into the driveway. They often beat Lisa here, since she usually stays late to work on things in the classroom.
Emerging from the trail, they find Miss Covington looking at the three bikes. She smiles when she sees the girls. “There you are!” she calls happily through the open window. “Hurry up and meet me at the house. I have good news to share with you!”
The girls hurry up the driveway, eager to find out what has their teacher in such a good mood. Sam, of course, hopes Miss Covington has found a way to keep the estate.
“I just got done talking with the Hartfords,” Lisa announces before the girls are even off their bikes. “They’re another horse breeding family that my parents and I were close to. Their place is about fifty miles from here. I visit them when I can, because they’ve been watching over my most prized possession: Orion.”
Sam is confused. What in the world is Lisa talking about?
“Who or what is Orion?” Ally is the first to ask.
“Orion is the last gift my father gave me, for my sixteenth birthday,” Lisa tells them. “He’s a magnificent Arabian horse. Dad purchased Orion from the Hartfords. When the estate fell apart and all the horses were being auctioned off, they offered to keep Orion for me so I wouldn’t lose him. He’s only thirteen, so not too old by horse standards, but definitely past his prime and not worth that much anymore. They’ve been talking about finding a retirement home for him, and have a potential buyer.”
“That’s so sad!” Ally cries, wondering how Lisa could be happy about it.
“No, Ally, it’s not. Going to a good loving home in his later years is the best thing that could happen to Orion and I’m very thankful for it. What I’m most happy about right now, though, is that I might get to have him come stay here for a couple of months! The potential new owners are on the east coast, and can’t collect him until after winter. If I can get one pasture and horse stall cleared out, I can bring him here.”
“That’s great!” Sam agrees, excited by the idea of possibly getting to help take care of a horse. She’s had a decent amount of experience working with them.
“Sam knows an awful lot about horses,” Ally tells Lisa. “We can help you!”
Lisa’s smile broadens, and she looks younger than usual. It dawns on Sam that Lisa is only twenty-five and recently out of college. Taking on a new job in addition to the task of selling her family’s estate is a lot. She’s glad to see her so happy.
“Well, we better get to work, then!” Sam tells Lisa, her smile just as big. “Because Orion is definitely going to come home!”
14
TRESSPASSING
They start work extra early Saturday morning. After Lisa showed them the far pasture Friday afternoon, it was clear that this would not be easy.
The three girls climb out of Lisa’s car and begin gathering tools out of the trunk. Lisa navigated the older vehicle along the overgrown, gravel road with some difficulty, but managed not to get stuck. While it’s a good trek from the house, it’s the smallest fenced pasture with the best horse stall on it, so requires the least amount of work. Even then, the number of missing boards on the fence is high, and it will take all of them working together for several hours to clear the ground of debris. Sam knows how dangerous a large branch or rock can be to a running horse, and Lisa doesn’t want to take any chance of Orion being injured.
The air is crisp, with a hint of fall that’s just around the corner. It’s not quite cold enough yet for a jacket, but the girls are glad they decided to wear their sweatshirts.
Sam picks up a crowbar and hammer, one in each hand. “What fence do you want me to demolish?” Sam asks, turning to Lisa. The plan is to go take boards off the fencing from the nearby fields, to use for repairs.
“Across that pasture,” Lisa directs, pointing downhill. “It shares a fence with this one, so just grab whatever boards look good from the far side. First, why don’t you and Ally walk the perimeter and count how many we need? I’m going to have Cassy help me clean the inside of the stall, and figure out what else needs to be done in there.”
They spend the first half of the day just cleaning and collecting boards, and time flies by. Sam only notices when it’s lunchtime, because her stomach starts growling. Removing her gloves, she stands up tall and stretches her back. Prying the boards off is more difficult than she thought it would be.
“Ready to go take a break?” Lisa calls from the open door of the horse stall.
Ally drops the board Sam just handed her, and waves back in confirmation. “Coming!” she hollers, happy at the thought of getting to sit for a while.
“I can make us some sandwiches,” Lisa offers when they all meet back at her car. “If you don’t mind,” she continues, “I’d like to walk back. I don’t want to drive on this road more than I have to, until the new gravel is delivered. I didn’t realize how bad it would be. I’ll leave it here for now, though, so we can use it to haul back the gear later.”
As they all begin to cut across the fields, Sam breaks out in a run. “I’ve had to use the bathroom for the last two hours!” she shouts over her shoulder. “I’ll see you there!”
“I don’t know how she can possibly run,” Cassy laughs, shaking her head. “Does she ever run out of energy?”
“I haven’t seen it happen yet,” Ally replies, linking her arm in Cassy’s.
It takes Sam less than five minutes to reach the more manicured lawn of the house, and is surprised to see an unfamiliar car in the driveway.
It has be Lisa’s aunt, Clara Wells, Sam figures, jumping the front steps two at a time. Lisa told them earlier that her aunt was going to stop by later for a visit. She must have come earlier than expected.
The front door is ajar, which Sam doesn’t give much thought to. Mrs. Wells does own the house, so it would only be natural for her to let herself in. But as Sam crosses the foyer, and starts down the hallway, a large crashing sound comes from the nearby office.
“Hello?” she calls, headed in that direction. “Mrs. Wells? Are you okay?”
Sam is answered by an even louder thud, and the distinct sound of a heavy chair being pushed across the maple floor.
What in the world? She thinks, running now. While someone else might choose to run away from the confusing situation, Sam’s instinct is to go towards it, still thinking that Mrs. Wells must need help.
As Sam approaches the doorway, a large figure suddenly races forward. It’s definitely not Mrs. Wells. Throwing her hands up in alarm, Sam tries to dodge out of the man’s way, but isn’t fast enough. He slams into her in his rush to leave. While trying to catch her balance, she grabs at him and latches onto something he’s got sheltered in his arms. The object comes loose as she bounces off his solid form and crashes into the wall behind her.
As Sam’s breath is nearly knocked from her lungs, she looks up and gasps in shock at Peter Covington’s stunned face. He stumbles back a step before recovering his footing, and then glares at Sam, his grey eyes narrowing. They both look down at what Sam now recognizes as Lisa’s computer case, lying on the floor between them.
“What are you doing?” Sam demands, her voice wavering. It seems clear that he was attempting to leave with the laptop, but she’s not quite ready to call him a thief.
The older man tips his head to the side in a contemplative gesture, studying her face. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and dangerous.
“That isn’t a question you have a right to ask, young lady. Now,
step aside so I can go speak with my niece.” His last words are almost drowned out by the pounding sound of several people on the front porch. His head jerks up in response, his brow furrowing even further.
Too angry to be as scared as she should be, Sam reaches out and picks up the laptop case before he has a chance to, and then steps aside, giving him plenty of room to pass by.
Hesitating for a tense moment, Peter Covington huffs loudly and stalks past her. Sam hears him call out a greeting to Lisa, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for him to be inside her home.
15
AUNT CLARA
“Uncle Peter!” Sam hears Lisa shout from the front door, as she runs to catch up. “What are you doing in my house? I told you that you can’t be here!”
Sam goes to stand in between Ally and Cassy as Peter approaches Lisa, who is still out in the driveway. The three girls exchange a look, unsure if they should get involved.
The bright, early afternoon light fades as the sun slips behind a cloud, darkening the features of the man’s face.
“I came to try and speak with you again,” he states, jamming his hands in the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks. “We’re family, Lisa. Can’t we even talk?”
Lisa looks at him questioningly, and it’s obvious that she’s thrown off by the comment. “What is there to talk about? You weren’t interested in discussing anything the other day. Demanding to be let inside and then threatening me when I said no, isn’t exactly a great way to start a conversation.”
Dropping his head slightly, Peter nods in agreement. “You’re right, dear. I owe you an apology. I went about things the wrong way. All I want to do is collect some old photographs from your father’s office. I’ve been working on putting together some information on our Covington name. When I got here and didn’t see your car, I thought you were gone and let myself in when I found the door unlocked. I was going to leave you a note.”