"Aw, Addie, you know an unbranded calf is fair game. Besides, you heard him. They took one of ours last fall. Now everything's fair."
"It isn't right-" she persisted, and Ben cut her off tersely.
"At the very least, it'll teach the Double Bar to keep their strays off our home grass."
"I'd expect those kinds of standards from you," she replied stiffly. "But to teach a boy Cade's age that stealing is right… it's criminal."
Suddenly Ben smiled. There was a malicious glint in his eyes as he glanced at her over his shoulder. "Just how do you think your father got his start in the ranching business, Miss Adeline?"
"My father?" she repeated, and flushed with confusion.
But I don't have a father.
"Yes, your father. He started out by working for another rancher and collecting his own little herd of rustled strays. Ask him sometime. He'll admit it without a second thought. "
Cade seemed unruffled by the information. Apparently he had heard it before. What kind of men were these? What kind of morality was this? Addie averted her eyes from both of them, wondering at the easy way in which Ben had cut her down. Apparently he had known her long enough to have developed a distinct dislike for her, enough to feel comfortable in mocking her. In his eyes there was no respect for her, nothing but coldness.
The buggy traveled parallel to a gentle stream, and it was miles before any buildings were in sight. The main house was a three-story structure that dominated the center of the Sunrise Ranch, an elegant building with fluttering white lace curtains and a wide porch. To the right there were a corral and a large bunkhouse, to the- left a considerable number of buildings and sheds. It looked like a small town in itself. The scene was liberally dotted with hired hands, horses, and a frisky dog. The sounds of woodchopping and tuneless singing mingled with the shouts and noises that accompanied the busting of a pony in the corral.
The buggy stopped in front of the main house, and Addie was motionless, paralyzed with bewilderment. What now? What was expected of her? Cade hopped out and stood by the side of the vehicle to help her down.
"Come on and get out," he said, grinning at her encouragingly. "You know Daddy won't be mad for long. Not at you. Hurry up, I've got things to do."
"Stay with me," she said quickly, clinging to his arm after she had descended from the buggy. His was the only friendly face she saw, and she would rather have him near her than be alone.
Cade pulled his arm away from her, however, and started off toward the corral. "Let Ben take you in," he said over his shoulder. "I think that's what he plans to do anyway."
"Damn right it is," came Ben's hard voice behind her, and before Addie could flinch away, her upper arm was compressed in a steely grip. "Let's go have a talk with Daddy, Miss Adeline."
She shuddered at his touch, finding it repulsive, but he propelled her up the steps and across the porch with an easy twist of his hand. Addie could sense his considerable strength as he ignored her attempt to resist him. He opened the front door without knocking, and she caught a glimpse of walnut paneling and rich velvet pile carpets before she was pulled to a room that appeared to be the library. There was a combination of masculine scents in the room, saddle oil and cigar smoke, leather and wood.
"Russ? Ben said, releasing Addie's arm as the man in the library turned to face them. "I thought you'd be here."
"You're back late," Russell Warner replied. He looked like an older version of Cade, though his honeybrown hair was frosted with silver and he had a thick, close-trimmed mustache. He was a robust man with healthy coloring and a well-groomed appearance. Some men wore their authority naturally, as if its weight made no impression on their shoulders. Russell was of that class. He was a man who had been born to lead others. As he looked at Addie fondly, his eyes twinkled. "Looks like my baby's led someone on a wild-goose chase again." There was a painful thumping in Addie's chest as she stared at him.
This is my great-grandfather. And he thinks I'm his daughter. They all think I'm Adeline Warner.
She heard nothing of the conversation between the two men, just stood there quietly, exhausted from emotional strain, sick of the nightmare, and wanting nothing more than for it to be over. Then she was aware that Russell was speaking to her.
"Adeline," he said gravely, "this time you went too far. This is serious, honey, and it's time to do some explain in '. Cade and Ben thought somethin' happened to you. What were you doing in town that made you so late?"
She stared at him dumbly, shaking her head. Should she make up something? Play along with this?
A new voice entered the conversation, a feminine voice. "What's going on, Russ?"
Addie spun around to see a woman in the doorway, a slender woman in her late forties. From having seen old pictures of her before, Addie knew that it was May Warner, Russell's wife. She had cornflower-blue eyes and an oval-shaped face that wore a tender expression. Her smooth blond hair was braided in an intricate knot at the nape of her neck, and covered with an indoor cap of lace fastened with a coquettish spray of flowers at the side.
As the woman slipped an arm around her shoulders, Addie could detect the sweet fragrance of vanilla that clung to her, as well as the fresh starch in her linen morning-collar. The fanlike sweep of her skirts brushed against Addie's as she squeezed her shoulders affectionately.
"Why is everyone bein' so dreadfully serious?"
May asked, and her laughing gaze seemed to soften Russell's countenance. Ben's expression didn't change.
"We're waiting for Adeline to explain why she was two hours late in town," Russell said, much more casual than before. "She cost us a lot of time and worry, May, and she's got to learn there's a time for games and a time for gettin' work done. But right now I want to know what she was doin' while Ben and Cade couldn't find her. "
Three pairs of eyes rested on Addie's face. She could hear a nearby clock ticking in the silence. She felt like a cornered animal. "I don't know," she said, her voice wavering. "I can't tell you because I don't know. The last thing I remember is being with Leah." Her voice broke as she tried to continue. It was all too much. She was too tired to face this any longer. "Leah…' The tension inside her snapped and she jerked her hand up over her eyes and she burst into tears.
She was vaguely aware of Ben leaving the room in disgust, and Russell's anxious promises of pocket money and bonbons to keep her from crying, and above all, May's soothing.
"I'm sorry," Addie choked, wiping her wet nose against the lacy frill of her sleeve, taking a handkerchief as it was thrust into her hand. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's happened. What have I done? Do you understand any of it?"
"She's overwrought. She just needs to rest," Addie heard May say, and she seized gratefully on the idea.
"Yes. I need to be alone. I can't think-"
"Everything's fine, sugar. Mama's here. Come upstairs with me."
Submitting to the gentle coaxing, Addie started to follow her out of the room, her head downbent. She saw a calendar on the small desk by the door.