Chapter One
Exhausted from her ordeal, Belle fell asleep right there in the kitchen on Madelaine’s lap, so Maggie came and took her and Simon to their room for a nap.
“Would you please make sure that the fireplace is stocked up with enough wood, so it will last a while? And don’t forget to tuck both of them in with heavy winter blankets,” Madelaine reminded her on their way out.
Mrs. Keagan wiped her hands on her apron and went back to work to prepare lunch for everyone at the ranch. Madelaine’s family had always had the tradition that every person—owners and workers, regardless of status—would sit together for lunch.
Upon Phineas’ arrival, he had tried to stop these gatherings from happening, since nobody on the ranch seemed to respect him enough to treat him like a superior. Everybody ignored him, and they all came together at noon on the dot. Well, everyone who was still around.
Unfortunately, since Madelaine’s father was no longer in charge, a lot of the stable hands had left the ranch, and Phineas’ unfair and unruly ways of trying to run the place had chased away even more of the workers. It didn’t exactly fill Madelaine with confidence. Not to mention that Phineas had brought insome of his own men, who wrongfully acted as overseers, all living here for free.
Mrs. Keagan glanced at Madelaine with a knowing look, then walked over to the coffee pot on the cast-iron stove and poured the strong black brew into a mug before wandering over to Madelaine and handing it to her. Madelaine took it with a grateful smile and inhaled the smell of the steamy goodness. This was exactly what she needed. Despite the early hour of the day, she felt exhausted.
“How are you holding up, dear?” Mrs. Keagan was back at the counter cutting up some carrots, but her attention was on Madelaine, who carefully sipped her coffee.
“It’s not easy.” Mrs. Keagan nodded emphatically.
It wasn’t easy for any of them. Madelaine looked at the older woman and could feel almost the same sadness in her as her own. Everybody missed her parents very much, and everybody grieved their loss in their own ways.
Madelaine got up to her feet and walked over to Mrs. Keagan to see if she could help. Since herparents’ passing, Madelaine had always felt that it was her duty to help as much as she could with the work, much like her mother and father had done every single day without fail.After the debacle earlier, she was behind on her usual chores. “Do you need any help with that?”
Mrs. Keagan shook her head. “No, dear. I have everything under control. Why don’t you go lie down and rest for a bit? It has been an eventful morning, and you look as tired as Belle.”
As exhausted as she was, Madelaine was too agitated right now to lie down. Shaking her head, she rolled up her sleeves. “I’d rather keep busy. I need the distraction.”
Mrs. Keagan nodded and handed her a fat carrot and a small knife, and Madelaine relaxed into her work and the easy banter she shared with the cook.
Once they were finished, Mrs. Keagan tended to the big cast-iron pot of bubbling stew on the stove while Madelaine went into the big room to set the table for lunch.
By the time everyone gathered around, the table was set and loaded with delicious foods—a whole basket full of freshly baked, buttery rolls and a loaf of sourdough bread, steaming stew, roasted pumpkin and potatoes doused in more butter, boiled eggs, and an extra slab of grilled venison for the men, who needed the extra meat for the hard labor.
For a brief moment, Madelaine was able to forget her difficult situation.
Belle and Simon had woken up from their naps, and they came running into the room as if nothing had happened. Both ofthem acted as though they were starving, eagerly climbing onto their chairs to join in with everybody enjoying their lunch.
Afterwards, when all the workers had left, Madelaine went to the larder to grab some apples for the horses before going out to the barn. She cherished these afternoons and made sure to go out to the stables every single day to tend to the horses, give them a treat or two, and see that they had hay and water and were well cared for.
The minute she stepped into the storage room, she noticed it—things had been moved around, and some of the jerky hanging from the rafters to dry had been stolen. Even a large slab of ham was missing.
“Mrs. Keagan!” Madelaine shouted, her voice tight with anxiety.
She whirled around and saw Mrs. Keagan, rushing toward her with worry written all over her face. “What is the matter, dear?”
“Am I seeing things, or is there food missing again?”
Mrs. Keagan’s kind face pulled into a disapproving scowl. “It looks like it. Who would do such a thing? We need all these supplies to last us all winter!” Her voice rose slightly, showing how angry she was as she inspected everything.
“Do you have any idea who the thief could be? I haven’t seen anybody walk around with an entire slab of ham, have you?”
“No, dear. I have no idea. The girls wouldn’t risk getting caught, and I haven’t seen any of the men in here. This is really getting out of hand!” She actually stomped her foot on the floor.
“We need to make sure the larder is locked at all times,” Madelaine finally said. Mrs. Keagan nodded in agreement. “You will be the only person with a key. Don’t ever let anybody else have it. I trust you, but I don’t trust anybody else around here enough with our livelihood. We cannot risk running out of food at the end of winter.”
Frustrated, Madelaine stuffed a handful of apples into the large pockets in her skirt. They’d harvested buckets full of apples last autumn, so these wouldn’t be missed. The dried meat was a different story, as it would sustain all of them during the leaner months to come.
As Madelaine stepped out into the fresh crisp air of the beautiful afternoon, patches of white snow in the valley announced that winter had officially arrived. Walking over frosty, crunchy grass to the barn on the far east side of the ranch, she took in the sheer size of it.
Nestled on the eastern side of Bitterroot Valley, the Peterson ranch sat roughly thirty miles north of Stevensville onalmost a thousand acres of hay fields, pastures, and a small patch of woods to the north. The main house was a typical, but rather large, one-story ranch house with a wrap-around porch, surrounded by swaths of wildflowers during summer and some rose bushes her mother had planted there in memory of her late mother and grandfather. She’d always tried to make it look pretty as well as practical.
