With Mary-Beth’s help, she pushed the dresser sideways. When she was able to reach the painting, Hannah lifted it away from the wall.
“Let me help.” Mary-Beth moved around the dresser and held one edge of the frame. “Are all the paintings this heavy?”
“It depends on the size of the canvas.” She breathed a sigh of relief when they placed it beside the other paintings. “The gilt frame adds a lot of extra weight.”
Mary-Beth studied the canvas. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is.” Hannah knelt on the ground, totally immersed in the landscape. The painting was old, but just how old she didn’t know. It showed a blue lake surrounded by jagged mountains. A shaft of sunlight streamed through masses of gray clouds, bathing the land in a magical glow. She leaned closer, looking for the artist’s signature.
“Who painted it?” Mary-Beth asked.
“I don’t know.” Hannah looked at the back of the canvas. “There isn’t a signature or any other markings.”
“Do you need to know the artist’s name for your catalog?”
“It would be good if I did. But in the meantime, I can photograph the painting and take its measurements.”
Mary-Beth sneezed. “Sorry about that. I’m allergic to dust mites.”
“Mrs. Bennett dusts once a month, but there’s so much in here that it would be impossible to keep everything clean. I could call Brett on his cell phone if you’d like to see him.”
“I’ll give him another fifteen minutes, then call. He tries not to work for too long on Sundays. What do you think of my brother?”
Hannah pulled out her tape measure. “He’s okay.”
“If he’s bossing you around, don’t take it personally. He does that to everyone.” Mary-Beth held one end of the tape. “I could help you until Brett arrives?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to help. Besides, it will give me a chance to get to know you.”
The grin on Mary-Beth’s face was a little worrying.
“What has Brett told you about me?”
“Nothing, apart from the fact that you’re helping Mr. and Mrs. McConachie. How long have you lived in Bozeman?”
Hannah opened her laptop. “For about eight years. My sister and I moved here from Boston.”
The attic door opened and Brett walked toward them. He frowned at his sister. “You’re not telling Hannah any family secrets are you?”
Mary-Beth blushed. “Don’t be such a grouch.”
Brett’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you were coming to the ranch today.”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Look at what Hannah found.”
Brett seemed surprised at the number of paintings leaning against the table. “Were they all in the attic?”
Hannah nodded. “Each and every one of them. Luckily, Pat installed an air-conditioning unit when he decided to store the paintings up here. Apart from being a little dusty, everything is in great condition.”
“Are there any more?” Brett asked.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve found most of them. I don’t have a lot of time this morning, so I’ll have another look tomorrow.”
Mary-Beth frowned. “You can’t work all weekend and not have some time off on Monday.”
“This doesn’t feel like work. It’s like hunting for treasure, only there aren’t any pirates chasing me.”
