The Rose Ring

  The Rose Ring

  by Lucie Ulrich

  Published by Astraea Press

  www.astraeapress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  THE ROSE RING

  Copyright © 2014 LUCIE ULRICH

  ISBN 978-1-62135-313-3

  Cover Art Designed by BOOK BEAUTIFUL

  For my sweet mother-in-law, Mary Ann.

  I miss you every day.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sky Baxter leaned against the worn red counter and stared through the diner’s plate glass window. Dime-sized snowflakes flitted around the streetlamps before joining the three inches already on the ground.

  Sighing, she thought of the fur-lined boots sitting on the rubber mat by her front door. Why hadn’t she listened to the weatherman?

  “Go home, Sky.”

  She pivoted toward the small kitchen area behind the counter. Her boss and friend, Carl Johnston, scraped charred burger remains from the grill.

  “But I still need to mop the floor.”

  “I’ll mop. You go.”

  “It’s only ten blocks. The snow won’t pile up that much more in the next few minutes.”

  He stepped into the dining area, his limp more pronounced after the long day. “All the same, I’d rather you leave now.” He held out her parka and handbag. “And call me when you get there.”

  Carl lived upstairs and didn’t have to worry about cold or snow. She knew he would have driven her if he could, but he’d given up driving two years ago. An auto accident had left him with a severe limp. That in itself wouldn’t have stopped him, but burying his wife a week later did.

  “Guess you’re right.” Sky threw on her parka, covered her long black ponytail with a knit cap, and shoved her hands into a pair of gloves. She planted a kiss on his cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

  Cold air and heavy snow swirled around her as she darted across the street and hurried down the sidewalk. A familiar black pickup stopped in front of her as she was about to step off the curb. The passenger window lowered. “Need a lift?”

  Sky peered into the cab. The sight of Micah Cooper’s crooked smile sent a wave of heat from her icy nose to her frozen toes. She’d been crazy about him since high school. “I’m not fool enough to say no.”

  He pushed the passenger door open. “I always knew you were smart.”

  Scraping the snow from her shoes on the running board, she climbed in. “If I were smart, I’d have worn my boots today. That and figure out a way to buy a car.”

  With a quick flick of his wrist, Micah put the truck in gear and pulled out into the nearly deserted street. “News flash. You have to know how to drive before they’ll give you a license.”

  “Yeah, well, if my mother had ever owned a car, or could have afforded Driver’s Ed when I was in school, I’d already know how to drive. Besides, learning isn’t the problem. Saving is.”

  “Hang in there. Who knows? Some customer might just leave you a thousand dollar tip tomorrow.”

  “Pssh. We’re talking Elk Flats, Montana, not New York City. The biggest tip I’ve ever gotten is six bucks. Old man Bentley left it after he pinched my backside and I didn’t slap him.”

  Micah laughed. “With his arthritis, I’m surprised you felt anything.”

  “That was two years ago. He doesn’t come in much these days.” The truck was warm, so she pulled off her hat and gloves. “Speaking of coming into town, I’m surprised to see you so soon. You normally don’t show up twice in one week.”

  He stopped for a red light. “This month’s co-op meeting was moved up at the last minute. I also have a meeting with my grandfather’s lawyer in the morning.”

  “You staying in town, then?”

  “Uh, huh.” The light changed and he kept his eyes on the road, staring through wipers that slapped in time to Toby Keith’s latest release. “So, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay.”

  He glanced her way. “Wanna try that again?”

  Silence.

  When they’d driven a few more blocks, Micah made an unexpected turn into an empty parking lot and stopped in front of a dimly lit, but familiar, red brick building.

  She frowned. “I don’t live at the library, Micah.”

  With tenderness that belied his six-two, well-muscled frame, he hooked a calloused finger under her chin and tilted her face in his direction. “Talk to me.”

  Sky lowered her eyes. “Guess I’m still getting used to the idea of Mom not being around anymore. We had our ups and downs, but I can’t help wondering if she might have stopped drinking sooner if I hadn’t moved out right after high school. I left her to fend for herself.”

  “Your mother was an alcoholic. Living with her wasn’t good for you.”

  She shook her head. “I was ashamed of her. I should have had more compassion.”

  “You moved her into your apartment and spent the last six months of her life taking care of her. I call that compassion.”

  Childhood memories of her mother stumbling into Sky’s bedroom to kiss her good night, the stench of stale booze on her breath, still turned her stomach. The arguments they’d had as she grew older and the promises to stop drinking that were never kept, left Sky feeling hollow inside. Then came the news that her mother had been given less than a year to live. What else could she do?

  Her throat tightened. “I call it guilt.”

  “Drinking was your mother’s choice. People who cared for her couldn’t get her to change. And if she wouldn’t quit for the sake of her only kid, then I don’t see that you have anything to feel guilty about.”

  “People who cared for her? What people? Other than you, me, Reverend Thompson, and a few of Mom’s old drinking buddies, nobody else showed up at her funeral. When your grandfather was buried a month later, there wasn’t enough room in the church to hold everybody.”

  “That’s because Sam had a way of fooling people into thinking he was this great guy. Truth was he cared more about his cattle than his family.” His voice tightened. “He had both Gran and Dad under his thumb, just where he liked them. Shoot, the man made his grandsons call him by his first name.” He shook his head and blew out a breath. “It was like he didn’t want to acknowledge the relationship.”

  “You know.” Sky leaned against the door. “It’s amazing we aren’t more screwed up.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  They locked eyes. He winked. “Neither would I.”

  Within seconds he pulled onto the road again. “So, you planning on working at the diner much longer?”

  Sky glared at him. “There’s nothing wrong with how I make my living. We can’t all own cattle ranches, you know.”

  “Whoa!” Micah held up a hand. “It was just a question, not an accusation.”

  She heaved out a sigh. “I know. Sorry. I’ve worked a twelve-hour shift every day for the last three days. Guess I’m a little punchy.”

  He gave her shoulder a tender squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. I was just wondering if you had any other plans now that you don’t have to look out for your mom anymore.”

  “I signed up for a few on-line classes at the community college, but other than that, who knows?”

  “Oh yeah? Which ones?”

  “A couple o
f core classes: English Comp. and U.S. History. I’m not even close to figuring out what I’d like to major in. Carl lets me use his computer during my breaks and on my days off. I’m glad I’m doing it, but it feels a little weird having to study again after all these years.”

  He laughed. “All these years! You’re barely twenty-five.”

  “I know, but you and most of our class finished college three years ago. At the rate I’m going, it could be ten years before I get my degree.”

  Micah slowed and took a right turn. “That’s okay, a class or two at a time is easier on the checkbook. I’ll be paying back my school loans for another five years. Not that I regret going, but I’ll sure be glad when I can get rid of that debt.”

  “I know what you mean. Carl loaned me the money for Mom’s funeral. He tells me not to worry about it, but I want to pay him back — with interest, but he won’t hear of it.”

  “Carl’s a good guy.”

  “The best.”

  Sky said nothing for the next four blocks. It seemed to be the way between them — a little time to catch up followed by a lot of silence. Still, it was comfortable.

  “Want to come in for a bit?” she asked when he pulled into the parking lot of her small apartment complex.

  “Thanks, but I have an early morning meeting, so I’d best head on to the motel.”

  She tried not to sound too disappointed. “Some other time then?”

  “Tell you what. I’ll stop by the diner for a cup of coffee before I head home. If you’re working in the morning, that is.”

  “I’ll be there.” She opened the door and slid out of the warm truck. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” He gave her a quick two finger salute. “See you tomorrow.”

  With hat and gloves in hand, Sky hurried inside. She threw off her coat, flopped onto her threadbare paisley couch, and gave Carl a quick call as promised.

  A cup of tea sounded good, but Sky didn’t have the energy to fix it. Instead, she thought of Micah. As much as she wanted there to be something between them, Micah had a thing for someone else. She could still remember the first time Morgan Richardson came sauntering into the diner. Every male head in the place had turned simultaneously. It was as if their internal radar systems blared… Stunning, tall, blond, green-eyed woman approaching.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad if Sky hadn’t been talking to Micah at the time and heard the soft whistle he let out. He locked eyes with the woman standing by the door, and whatever thoughts and dreams Sky had of turning their friendship into a romance crumbled before her. It didn’t matter that he and Morgan had since broken up. She knew he wasn’t over her yet.

  “Enough, already!” She forced herself off the couch and into the kitchen. “A cup of tea, a hot bath, and a comfortable bed, and all will be well with the world.”

  ****

  Micah rolled out of bed at six the following morning. After dressing, he helped himself to a cup of coffee and a bagel from the not-so-great continental breakfast selection. He dropped his key off at the reception desk and headed for his appointment.

  The lawyer’s office, although small and crowded, had an aura of friendliness and efficiency about it. The far wall was lined with a series of four-drawer oak file cabinets, while pictures of mountains, streams and waterfalls dotted the three remaining walls. A small couch and two padded chairs were situated next to the only window in the room. Micah hung his denim jacket on the rack by the door. Olivia, Everett Brown’s sister, and the only secretary he’d ever had, waved Micah into the office.

  “Hello, Micah.” Everett motioned to one of the two heavy wooden slat-back chairs across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

  Micah shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

  “So, how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” He took the offered seat. “A little confused as to why I’m here, though.”

  Everett’s bushy, gray eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “Why, for the reading of the will, of course.”

  “But I already know what’s in it, so this is just a formality, right?”

  The man’s left brow returned to its rightful place while the other one stayed put. Micah held back a laugh. He always wondered how people could do that.

  “Did your grandfather show you the most recent copy of his will?” the lawyer asked.

  “Well no, but he’s hinted over the years that the ranch would go to me. I mean, who else would he leave it to?”

  “You do have a brother.”

  The tiny hairs at the back of Micah’s neck bristled. He hadn’t seen his brother in nearly fifteen years. “Noah hates ranching and skipped out on his eighteenth birthday. There’s no way Sam would leave any of it to him.”

  “That’s what we’re here to talk about.”

  “Are you telling me I’m going to have to share my inheritance with Noah?”

  Micah pushed his chair back and paced the small space between the chair and door. “I already told you ranching isn’t his thing. What happens if he wants to sell the place? I can’t afford to buy him out.”

  The lawyer held out a hand. “Calm down, Micah. I’ll explain just as soon as—”

  “Hello, brother.” Noah Cooper burst through the door wearing a gray three-button suit that looked like it cost more than Micah’s entire wardrobe. His shoes were polished to a gleam, and not a single hair on his sandy-blond head strayed out of place. He gave Micah a quick pat on the shoulder, then strode across the room, leaned over the desk, and gripped the lawyer’s hand. “Hello, Mr. Brown, it’s been a long time.”

  Micah spun in his brother’s direction and experienced what he’d always thought of as a physical impossibility: his blood boiled. “What are you doing here?”

  “Same thing you are.”

  “Why don’t we get on with the reading?” Mr. Brown slipped on a pair of glasses.

  Both men sat. Micah only half-listened as the lawyer read through the preliminaries. He knew his grandfather, although a hard man to live with, had been of sound mind, and didn’t need to hear it. His right leg bounced up and down as he stole a glance at his brother who sat stock still, seemingly listening to every word.

  When it came to the information about the ranch, both men leaned forward.

  “I hereby leave the ranch, house, livestock, equipment, and everything else pertaining to running the business to whichever of my grandsons marries first. Said grandson will also receive the sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. To the grandson who does not marry first, I bequeath the sum of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Both bequests are to be paid out on the married grandson’s second wedding anniversary.”

  Micah wanted to shout his protest, but his throat had gone bone dry. He glanced at his brother, who looked as Micah felt. He began to question his earlier thoughts about his grandfather’s lucidity.

  “Where did Sam get a million bucks?” Noah asked.

  Leave it to his brother to think only about the money, although Micah had to admit the thought ran through his head as well. The ranch, albeit a decent size, paled in comparison to those which catered to visitors wanting a “dude ranch” experience. Eagle’s Nest had been in his family for eighty-six years, and the notion of turning it into a tourist spot or bed and breakfast seemed almost sinful. It turned a profit every year, but a million dollars?

  “Wise investments,” Mr. Brown replied.

  Micah scrubbed a hand through his hair, wishing he could rid his brain of the information overload Everett Brown had just delivered. “So, now what?”

  Mr. Brown cleared his throat. “There are still a few more details to go over.” He paused and looked across the desk.

  Tension tightened Micah’s shoulders and the beginning of a headache worked its way up the back of his neck. “Let’s hear it all.”

  Without looking back at the paper, Everet went on. “You and Noah are going to have to work the property side-by-side for the same two years, beginning no more t
han three months from the reading of this will.”

  Micah jumped to his feet. “You gotta be kidding me!”

  Noah stood and leaned over the desk. “I left that life behind a long time ago and have no desire to return.”

  Mr. Brown closed the file. “That, of course, is your choice. But if you don’t follow your grandfather’s wishes, the ranch will be sold and all of the proceeds, including the million, will go to designated charities.”

  “Exactly when did my grandfather have you draw up this will?” Micah asked.

  “About a month and a half ago.”

  Micah shook his head in disgust. “Even in death, Samuel Cooper reigns supreme. I don’t think I lived a day that he didn’t have the last word.” He lowered himself back into the chair and wondered if it would support the extra weight that had just been dumped on him. “Did he give you any reason for this ridiculous plan of his?”

  The old man leaned back in his chair. “When I first moved to town, some forty-nine years ago, Sam Cooper was the first person I took on as a client. Seems I was one of the few people who could get him to think things through before making any rash decisions. All but this time.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “He sat right where you are, Micah, looked me square in the eye, and with little emotion told me that his insides were eaten up with cancer and he’d likely be dead in a month. Said he had a small change to make to his will.”

  “A small change?” Noah let out a harsh laugh. “I’d hate to know what he considered a big one.” He circled between the desk and door twice before coming to a sudden stop. “Wait.” He pointed to Everett. “If Sam was on all kinds of pain meds, wouldn’t that negate the fact that he was of sound mind?”

  Micah shook his head. “Sam never took any pills.”

  “Your brother’s right,” Everett said. “I verified it with his doctor.”

  Noah smoothed a hand over his hair. “I still say we can fight this. I’m going to talk to a probate lawyer I know. No offense, Mr. Brown.”

  “None taken.” Everett handed each of them a copy of the will. “But the will is pretty iron-clad.”

  Noah gripped the papers in his hand. “If anyone can find a way out of this mess, my friend can.”