The Inheritance by Tamera Alexander Read Free Book Online Page B

can’t reach it.” She climbed up into a kitchen chair and tucked her legs beneath her.
    Emma was a mirror image of her mother—blonde hair and delicate features, big blue eyes. To say the child was pretty was an understatement. But she had an air about her, even at so young an age, that didn’t quite fit with the Janie Talbot he’d met, however briefly. And he couldn’t quite decide what it was.
    A quick search turned up little in the way of pancake fixings, so he turned to his backup plan. “Let’s head outside and see if those chickens have laid us some eggs. We’ll have those instead.”
    Emma didn’t budge. “But you said we’d have pancakes.”
    He eyed her and caught a spark of challenge in the tilt of her diminutive chin. Which spoke volumes. “I said we’d see if we could make pancakes. I didn’t say we would . Now . . .” He leveled a friendly stare. “Let’s go check on those chickens.”
    With a coy smile he didn’t buy for a second, she hopped down. Cute little scamp.
    It was warm enough outside, so he didn’t go looking for her shoes. Judging from the dirt between her toes, she’d already been going without them for a few days. They reached the porch steps, and he swung her up on his shoulders. She giggled, the sound impulsive and pleasant, yet he felt almost traitorous in a way. As if he were misleading her about what awaited her.
    But the time for knowing her mother’s fate would come soon enough, and she’d have a lifetime to live with the loss.
    A while later, he was doling out scrambled eggs when the bedroom door opened. Miss Ashford stepped out, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed. She saw him and frowned. Apparently, she hadn’t expected him to still be here. Her gaze fell to Emma, who was seated at the table, fork in hand, and the many emotions accompanying the moment were easily read in her face.
    Fear, dread, hurt, and exhaustion all left their mark as she saw Vince and Janie Talbot’s daughter— her daughter now—for the very first time.

SEVEN
    E mma looks just like Janie. Exactly as McKenna remembered Janie as a little girl—all sweetness and goodness. The realization twisted the knife already lodged in her gut. Would Emma remember Janie? Even the least bit? Of course, Robert carried no personal memories of their mother since she’d died at his birth, but McKenna had made sure he knew about her. Everything she could recall.
    McKenna determined to capture every detail of Janie that she could. She’d write them all down, starting today. Every memory, every funny moment, every dream Janie had had, and she would share them all with Emma so Janie’s daughter would never forget who her mother was. And she’d do the same for Vince, though she hadn’t known him nearly as well.
    “I made some eggs, Miss Ashford . . . if you’re hungry.”
    She’d hoped the deep voice she’d heard moments earlier through the door belonged to Dr. Foster. Or even Robert, assuming he’d come back, which he always did, eventually. And that Marshal Caradon would have already been on his way. When she looked at him, she couldn’t help but think of how differently things might have turned out if he hadn’t been here last night. If he hadn’t made that unreasonable promise to Janie. Something told her that her cousin might still be alive. And she’d sensed the same hope from Dr. Foster. She’d made it clear to Caradon that she hadn’t approved of his promise, and yet he’d made it anyway.
    “I’m not hungry, Marshal Caradon,” she lied. “But thank you.” She glanced around. “Has Dr. Foster gone to town?”
    He nodded. “It would do you good to eat, ma’am. You’re going to need your strength.” Kindness touched his mouth, something compassionate and gentle. Something unwelcome from him at the moment.
    “Have you”—she glanced at Emma—“explained the situation yet?”
    “No, ma’am. I was told you wanted to do that.”
    That didn’t stop you from interfering last night.