Stampeded. B.J. DanielsЧитать онлайн книгу.
it. Also she felt honored that he wanted her opinion.
“I’ll drive out this weekend.” It was a ten-hour drive from Spokane, Washington, where she lived and worked as a reporter. She could get a few days off from the newspaper without any trouble, and she hadn’t seen her brother since the wedding and was worried about him.
“It might take more than a weekend,” Landon had said, adding, “It’s a big house.”
The mansion was indeed big, she thought as she looked up at it. Big and ugly as if built by someone who wanted not to just impress but shock. There was nothing engaging about the structure. All she could hope was that it was more hospitable inside, since she didn’t like old houses. As she stared at it, she feared coming here might have been a terrible mistake.
Alexa climbed out of her white SUV as the front door opened and her brother, Landon, came out to her. He looked so happy to see her that she shoved aside her misgivings.
“It is wonderful to see you,” he said as he hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much for coming.”
She drew back to study him, thinking how much she loved him. Sometimes she forgot how handsome and sweet he was. Their mother had called him her “little prince.” Both of them had adored Landon, but somehow he hadn’t grown up spoiled.
If anything, he was too generous with his money and his love, Alexa thought, as Sierra appeared in the wide doorway.
“Welcome to Wellington Manor,” Sierra said with a grand gesture. “That’s what the locals call it and I think it fits the place. You’re early. Supper’s not quite ready. The others are either napping or in town for supplies but should be back any minute.”
“The others?” Alexa asked her brother.
“We have friends helping get the house ready for guests,” Landon said as he reached into the back of her vehicle for her suitcase. “Only one suitcase?” He looked disappointed as he hooked the strap of her bag over one shoulder.
“I travel light,” she said with a smile and reluctantly let him lead her toward the mansion. She could feel tension between her brother and his new wife and suspected it hadn’t been Sierra’s idea to invite her to come for a stay.
She wondered whose idea it had been to have these friends help get the house ready for guests; after all Sierra and Landon had given up their honeymoon to come here and get started on the bed-and-breakfast.
As they walked toward the front entry, Alexa noticed something that hadn’t registered minutes before. Her brother was rubbing his left arm.
“Did you hurt yourself?” she asked and saw him glance toward his wife before he answered.
“Just me being clumsy.” He put his other arm around Alexa and smiled at his wife in the doorway. Sierra smiled back and disappeared into the house, leaving Alexa with the distinct impression that her brother was hiding something for Sierra’s sake.
The moment she stepped into the house, she felt the cold. It instantly crept into her bones and made her shiver.
“It’s a bit drafty,” Sierra said, no doubt having witnessed Alexa’s reaction.
She could see that both Sierra and Landon were defensive about the house. She fought not to show the effect it was having on her. The mansion had once been opulent, from the marble foyer to the huge sunken living room with its massive stone fireplace to the ornate stairway that swept upward to the floors above. Hallways ran from the living area like spider legs, disappearing in the dim light.
“Isn’t it beautiful,” Sierra gushed. “I just love it. Can’t you see it as a bed-and-breakfast? Wait until you see the rest of it.”
Alexa smiled at her sister-in-law’s enthusiasm. The house had recently been cleaned but there was still a musty smell as if the rooms had been closed up—even though someone had been living here. Only a little light bled through the high leaded-stained-glass windows. Heavy velvet curtains hung next to the lower windows and while the glass had been recently cleaned, even the summer sun seemed to be having a hard time getting through.
“I’m sure you’re tired after your long drive,” her brother said, apparently wanting to talk to her alone. “Why don’t I show you to your room.”
“Oh, you’ll want a tour first,” Sierra said, sounding both surprised and annoyed at her husband’s suggestion.
“I would love one later,” Alexa said quickly. “Landon’s right. I would like to freshen up first.”
Sierra looked disappointed. “I’ve just been so excited to show you the house. My great-great-grandfather designed it, you know.” She gave a little pout but said, “I guess I’ll see how supper is coming instead. I think I hear the others pulling in now.”
“I’d love to see it after we eat, thank you,” Alexa said, relieved her sister-in-law hadn’t insisted. She sensed Landon’s need to talk to her, and whatever this was about, he hadn’t wanted Sierra to hear.
He was quiet as he led her upstairs through what seemed like a maze of hallways before stopping at an end room. Opening the door, he stepped back to let her enter.
“Sierra got the room ready for you,” he said, pride in his voice.
Alexa was reminded how much her brother loved his wife and how careful she had to be around Sierra so she didn’t hurt his feelings. She knew she wasn’t being fair. She barely knew the woman and chastised herself for not giving Sierra more of a chance.
“It’s beautiful,” she said as she entered the room. And it was.
The wood floors were buffed to a golden shine, and the huge canopy bed was adorned in white linens. An array of pillows were piled against the carved wooden headboard. An antique vanity stood against one wall, with two matching highboys and a loveseat and overstuffed chair on the other.
“The house came filled with furniture,” Landon said. “There is even more up on the third floor. The last resident used that floor mostly for storage. The place really is huge, isn’t it?”
He sounded nervous and while she was anxious to know why he’d gotten her here, she warned herself not to push.
“Sierra chose this room because of the view and the peace and quiet,” Landon said. “It’s the farthest from where the construction work is going on. We’re remodeling some of the lower rooms that were built as servants’ quarters.”
“The view is wonderful,” Alexa said as she stepped through the open French doors onto a small balcony. The land seemed vast and endless—just like the clear blue sky overhead. She’d never been to Montana before, but all the stories she’d heard about it seemed to be true. It really was amazing country. She could imagine what it must have been like when thousands of buffalo roamed it.
As she stared out, a cowboy on a horse came into view. Something in her froze. She stood transfixed as he rode from the stand of large cottonwood trees and into the sun and sage. For a moment she’d thought she’d conjured him up from her imagination because he looked so at home in the saddle with this landscape in the background. He wore jeans, boots, a red-checked western shirt and what she thought must be a Stetson resting on his longish, raven-black hair. A brown-and-white mutt of a dog ran along a few yards off to the side of his horse.
Alexa held her breath, wanting him to turn and look in her direction. She desperately needed to see his face.
Just when it appeared he would ride by without looking in her direction, he glanced up at her.
Chapter Two
Only two of the vehicles were still parked in front of the old Wellington mansion, the red sports car and the white SUV, Marshall Chisholm noted as he rode his horse by the house. The former street was no more than a narrow dirt lane with rows of huge, old cottonwood trees on each side.
The sports car had California plates, while