Joanna Lindsay

When love is waiting

Dedicated to Vivian and Bill Valle, my second parents

England, 1176

Sir Guibert Fitzalan, leaning against a thick tree trunk, watched as two maids collected the remains of an open-air dinner. Sir Gibert was moderately good-looking, but he was not tempted by the attention of women, and even his mistress's maids sometimes annoyed him. It was at this moment that the younger of the two maids, named Wilda, glanced at him. Noticing how defiantly she carried herself, he quickly averted his eyes, and his face flushed.

Spring was in full swing, and Wilda was not the only woman to throw fiery eyes at Sir Gibert. But it was not only on him that she turned her spell. Wilda was undeniably pretty, with a dainty little nose and rosy cheeks. Her brown hair shone, besides, nature endowed her with a magnificent figure.

However, Gibert considered himself a convinced bachelor. Besides, Wilda was too young for a man of forty-five. Indeed, she was as young as Lady Leoni, whom they both served, and the lady was only nineteen years old.

Sir Gibert thought of Leonie Montvinsky as his daughter. At that moment, when before his eyes she was withdrawing into the forest from the meadow, where she began to collect spring herbs, he sent four soldiers from afar to protect her. He had brought ten men to guard the mistress, and the warriors were wise enough not to grumble at the fact that they had to perform such a duty, which was in no way among the loved ones. Leoni often asked them to collect the plants she indicated. This occupation was unworthy of men.

Until spring, three warriors were enough to accompany Lady Leoni, but now a new owner settled in Kruel, in his forest possessions Leoni went to collect herbs. Sir Guibert was seriously troubled by the new owner of all the Kempston lands.

The old owner of Kempston, Sir Edmond Montigny, was not sympathetic to Guibert, but the old baron, at least, did not make life difficult for the neighbors. The new master of Kempston had been complaining about Pershwick's serfs ever since he took possession of Cruel. And the point is not that the complaints were really justified. Worst of all, Lady Leoni felt personally responsible for the misdeeds of her servants.

Let me deal with this, Sir Gibert, she pleaded, hearing of these complaints for the first time. “I'm afraid my serfs think they're doing me a good deed by wreaking havoc in Kruel. - Explaining her words, she admitted:

I was in the country the day Alan Montigny came to tell me what had happened to him and his father. Too many serfs have seen how upset I am, and I'm afraid they heard me wish bad luck on the Black Wolf who now owns Kruel.

Gibert could hardly believe that Leoni could curse anyone. Leonie can't do that. She is too good, too kind, too quick to correct her mistakes, to make things easier for others. No, Sir Gibert thought, she is not capable of bad deeds. She was spoiled by his care. But, he asked himself, if he hadn't done it, then who would? Certainly not her father, who sent Leonie away from his home six years ago when her mother died. He sent her to the fortress of Pershvik along with Beatrice, her mother's sister, because it was unbearable for him to constantly see her, who so much resembled his beloved wife.

Gibert could not comprehend this act, but he did not happen to know Sir William of Montvinsky, although he settled in his house with Lady Elizabeth when she became Sir William's wife. Lady Elizabeth, Earl's daughter - and she was the fifth, most youngest child- It was allowed to marry for love. Sir William was by no means her equal, but he loved her, perhaps too much. The death of his wife destroyed him, and he apparently could not bear the presence of his only child. Leonie, like Elizabeth, was petite, graceful, fair-haired, nature generously endowed her with unusual silver-colored hair and silver-gray eyes. To describe Leoni, the word "beautiful" was not enough.

He sighed as he thought of the two women, mother and daughter; one died, the other was as dear to him as her mother. Suddenly he froze: his blissful thoughts were interrupted by a battle cry coming from the forest, a furious scream.

For just a second, Gibert stood motionless - drawing his sword from its scabbard, he rushed into the forest. The four warriors, who had been waiting nearby with their horses, rushed after him, and everyone in their hearts hoped that the warriors who had left with Leoni were staying close to her.

Deep into the forest, Leonie Montvinskaya also died for a moment, hearing this inhuman scream. As usual, she moved away from the warriors accompanying her at a considerable distance. Now it seemed to her that some monstrous, devil-like beast was nearby. Yet a natural curiosity, so uncharacteristic of the lady, prompted her to head towards the direction from which the cry came, instead of returning to her warriors.

She smelled smoke and ran with all her might, pushing through the bushes and trees, until she found where the smoke was coming from - the lumberjack's hut burned down. One of the knights stood looking at the smoking ruins of the dwelling, and five other knights and fifteen warriors in full armor on horseback also silently looked at the destroyed structure. A knight clad in armor walked between the ashes and the people. As Leonie watched the scene, he broke into a furious curse, and then she realized where that terrifying scream came from. I also understood who this knight was. She retreated behind the bushes where she was out of sight, glad that her dark green cape was hiding her.

However, the hiding place was no longer a secret when her warriors rushed after her. Leonie quickly turned to them, begging them to keep quiet, and motioned for them to leave. She silently approached them, the soldiers surrounded her with a ring and headed towards the castle. A moment later, Sir Gibert and the rest of the warriors joined them.

There is no danger,” she confidently informed Sir Gibert. But we must get out of here. The owner of Kempston discovered the forester's hut burned to the ground and seems to be very angry.

Have you seen him?

Yes. He is completely furious.

Sir Gibert snorted and hurried Leonie away. It is impossible for her to be found, accompanied by squires, next to the burnt hut. How can she prove her innocence then?

Later, when the danger has passed, the serfs will return to the forest and take the herbs collected by Leoni. Now Lady Leoni and the armed warriors had to be led away from this place.

Helping her into the saddle, Sir Gibert asked:

How do you know you saw the Black Wolf?

A silver wolf is embroidered on a black field on his dress.

Leonie did not say that she had already seen this man once. She would not dare to tell Sir Gibert of this, because one day, hiding her face, she secretly left the fortress for the tournament in Kruel. She later regretted it.

Most likely it was him, although his warriors and servants also wear the same colors, Sir Guibert agreed, remembering that terrible scream. - Have you noticed what he looks like?

No. She couldn't quite hide the disappointment in her tone. - He had a helmet on. But he was of enormous stature, that was obvious.

Let's hope that this time he won't send his people here, but will come himself to see if everything is in order.

Or maybe he will bring his army - My lady, he has no evidence. Unless only one serf will testify against another. Now take refuge in the fortress, and I will ride for the others and see to it that the village is securely defended.

Leonie went home with four squires and two maids. She realized that she hadn't been strong enough to warn her people against feuding with the Kruel serfs. In truth, she warned them reluctantly, because it suited her that the new master of Kempston was overcome by domestic troubles.

Previously, she wanted to brighten up the living conditions for her people by arranging entertainment in Pershvik on the next holiday. But anxiety about the Black Wolf and uncertainty about what he would do convinced her that it was not worth gathering many people in the fortress. No, it would be better if she carefully monitored the affairs of her neighbor and did not allow her people to surely they would drink hard liquor. She knew that they could well conceive something that could easily turn against her. Of course, if the inhabitants of her village decide to start a conspiracy against the Black Wolf, she better stay out of the way.

She understood what she needed to do. You need to talk to your people again as firmly as possible. But, thinking of dear Alan, banished from home, and poor Sir Edmond, who passed away so that King Henry one of her mercenaries with a beautiful estate, she realized that she hardly wanted a peaceful life for the Black Wolf.

Leonie handed the soap to the maid and leaned over so Wilda could wash her back. She gestured away from the bucket of water to wash off the scum, and instead sank into the large tub to enjoy soothing herbal infusions while the water was still warm.

A fire burned in the hearth, warming the room. It was a quiet spring evening outside the window, but the bare stone walls of Pershwick Castle exuded a chill that never left her quarters. And the ceiling of Leoni's room, connected with the ceiling of the spacious hall, allowed drafts to walk quietly here.

The Pershvik estate was old, it was not intended either for a comfortable life or for receiving guests. The hall was spacious, but had not been rebuilt since it was built a hundred years ago. Leoni's room was separated from the far end of the hall by wooden partitions. She lived in this room with her aunt Beatrice, and so that each of them could have privacy, the room was also divided in half by a partition. Unlike some of the new buildings, the house did not have a female wing; no other rooms adjoined the hall either from the side or from the top. The servants slept in the hall, and the soldiers in the tower, where Sir Gibert also lived.

Despite its primitiveness, Pershvik was Leoni's home, she lived here for the last six years. Since her arrival here, she had never visited Montvin, where she was born. She also did not see her father. Nevertheless, Montvin Castle was only five miles away. Her father, Sir William, lived in the castle with his new wife, Lady Judith, who married him a year after the death of Leonie's mother.

Could she be blamed for not being able to think fondly of her father anymore? She did not deserve such a cruel fate - after a happy childhood and life with loving parents, she would immediately lose both.

Previously, she loved her father with all her heart, but now she did not have warm feelings for him. At times she even cursed him. This was the case when he sent his servants to collect supplies from her warehouses for his wild amusements - and not only in Pershwick, but also in the fortresses of Rethel and Marhill. They both belonged to her. He never sent his daughter a message, but enjoyed the fruits of her hard work, appropriating all the income and money received.

However, in the past few years, luck has been much less with him, because Leonie has learned to deceive the steward from Montvin. When he came to collect taxes with his list, her warehouses were almost empty, and supplies were hidden in the most incredible places on the estate. She hid the spices and fabrics she bought from merchants in Rethel in the same way, because sometimes Lady Judith came with the steward, who thought she could freely dispose of everything she found in Pershwick.

At times, Leonie's cunning played a cruel joke on her when she could not remember all her secret places. But instead of abandoning this plan, or confessing her deceit to the priest of Pershwick and asking him for help, she persuaded Father Bennet to teach her to read and write. She could make a list of her great many hiding places. Now her serfs were not in danger of starvation, and her own table was plentiful. And she didn't have to thank her father for that.

Leonie straightened up to bathe, then Wilda wrapped her in a warm nightgown because that night she will no longer leave the room. Aunt Beatrice sat by the fire, sewing, lost in thought as usual. Beatrice, the eldest of Elizabeth's sisters, has long been a widow. She lost the lands given to her as a dowry - after the death of her husband, they went to his relatives, and she never married again. She claimed that such a life is more to her liking. Beatrice lived with her brother, the Earl of Shefford, until Elizabeth died. Shortly thereafter, Leonie was thrown into the care of her vassal Guibert Fitzalan, and Aunt Beatrice felt it her duty to stay with her and look after her.

Rather, perhaps, on the contrary, it was Leoni who took care of it, because Beatrice was timid. And the reclusive life in Pershvik did not at all make her decisive. As one of the first children of the late Earl of Shefford, she knew her father in the most turbulent periods of her life, while the youngest, Elizabeth, remembered him as a weak man and a loving father.

Leonie did not know the current earl, whose holdings were in the north, far from the central counties. When she came of age and began to dream of marriage, she wanted to meet her uncle. However, her aunt affectionately explained to her that the earl had eight siblings and dozens of nieces and nephews in addition to his own six children and grandchildren, so he certainly would not care for the daughter of his unsuccessfully married and now deceased sister.

Leoni, who at that time was fifteen years old, and she lived away from the outside world, it began to seem that she would never marry. But soon pride was established in her soul, which did not allow her to ask for help from relatives who did not know her and were not interested in her.

After some time, she began to think that living without a husband is better. She did not face the usual threat of being exiled to a nunnery, she was the owner of her own independent fortress, she had to give an account only to her father, who had never met her and was unlikely to show her more attention.

Such a situation was unique and enviable, she admitted to herself, when her first dreams of love were gone. Most brides did not even know their future husbands until the wedding and could very well be the property of either an old man or a cruel, inattentive husband. Only serfs married for love.

She had never seen the tournament, so she wanted to go there. King Henry banned all tournaments, except for a few that were held on special occasions and with his permission. Too many tournaments have ended in bloody battles in the past. In France, tournaments were held constantly and almost everywhere, and many knights became rich by moving from one tournament to another. In England, things were different.

At first, the Cruel tournament was exciting. The Black Wolf rode into the field in full armor, surrounded by six knights, tall, imposing, in clothes decorated with black and silver flowers. Seven of their opponents were also heavily armed. In some of them, Leonie recognized the vassals of Sir Edmond Montigny. By that time, Black Vodka had become their new overlord.

She didn't question why the current owner of Kempston was challenging his new vassals. There could be many possible explanations for that, which did not interest her. Her attention was attracted by the Black Wolf and the lady who rushed to the field to give him a token of love. Taking the lady in his arms, he kissed her hard. Was she his wife?

The crowd cheered for this kiss, and then immediately a fight began, a kind of battle in which all the rivals fought furiously. The fight went on strict rules different from the real battle, but that morning the rules were disregarded. It was clear from the beginning that all seven rival knights intended to unseat the Black Wolf. They quickly got their way, and only the swift intervention of his own knights saved him from defeat. He even had to shout to keep them from pursuing them as the opponents rushed away.

It all ended too soon, and Leonie went home filled with disappointment, only feeling satisfied that some of Black Wolf's new vassals apparently didn't recognize him as their overlord. Why? She didn't know what he had done. But suffice it to say that his accession to Kempston was not easy.

Leonie released Wilde and sat down by the hearth beside her aunt, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. She remembered the fire in the forest and tried to foresee what new worries await her.

Are you worried about our new neighbor? Surprised, Leoni glanced sideways at Beatrice. She didn't want to burden her with these worries.

What can you worry about? Leoni replied evasively.

My child, God knows, there is no need to hide your worries from me. Don't you think that I don't notice what's going on around me?

Leonie thought so.

Aunt Beatrice, it doesn't really matter.

So the impudent young knights will no longer come here and rudely threaten us? Leonie shrugged.

These are just harsh words. Men love to threaten and grumble.

Oh yes, I know that. They both laughed, because Beatrice, of course, knew more about men than Leonie.

I was afraid that today we would have visitors, Leoni admitted, but no one showed up. They must not blame us for what happened today.

Beatrice frowned thoughtfully, and her niece asked her:

Do you think the Black Wolf is up to something different this time?

Maybe. It's even strange that he still hasn't burned our village.

He wouldn't dare to do that! Leonie exclaimed. “He has no evidence that my serfs are to blame for his troubles. These are the slanders of his serfs.

Yes, but for many men, this is enough. Suspicion alone is enough, - Beatrice sighed. Leonie's anger faded.

I know it. Tomorrow I will go to the village and demand that henceforth no one under any circumstances should leave Pershvik. There will be no more complications. We must achieve this.

Current page: 1 (total book has 22 pages) [accessible reading excerpt: 13 pages]

Joanna Lindsay
Love doesn't wait

Chapter 1

Even before her daughter, Tiffany, opened the front door of the city mansion, Rose Warren had stopped crying, but she couldn't get the words out of her mind that had upset her to tears: “Come with her, Rose. Fifteen years have passed. Haven't you tortured us all long enough?"

She usually let her daughter read letters from Franklin Warren. He always kept a neutral tone so that Rose could share them with her daughter. But not this time, and Rose hurriedly crumpled up the letter and slipped it into her pocket when she heard Tiffany's voice coming from the hall. The daughter did not know why her parents did not live together. Even Frank did not know the true reason that made Rose leave him. And after so many years, it seemed better to leave things as they were.

- Tiffany, please come into the living room! the daughter called to Rose before she went upstairs to her room.

Tiffany took off her hat as she entered the living room, revealing her reddish-blond hair in the midday light. Then she pulled off a short light cape from her shoulders. Although the weather was warm, decency required that respectable ladies should dress appropriately when they left their homes.

Looking at her daughter, Rose once again realized that her dear baby was no longer small. Tiffany turned eighteen this year, and Rose prayed that her daughter would stop growing. At five feet and eight inches, she was already well above average and often lamented about it. Tiffany's height went to her father, but she inherited emerald green eyes from him, she just did not know about it. From Rose she inherited graceful features that made her unusually pretty, and red hair, but more of a copper hue.

“I received a letter from your father.

There was no answer.

Tiffany used to enjoy Frank's letters, but that time was long gone - around the same time she stopped asking when he would arrive.

Rose's heart broke at the indifference with which her daughter began to treat her father. Of course, Tiffany didn't have any memories of Frank. She was too small when they left Nashart, a small town in Montana. Rose felt that she should have allowed them to date. Frank was generous enough to send boys to her in New York, and she felt guilty that she was not paying him the same by not allowing her daughter to visit him in Montana. But she was too afraid that Frank would not let Tiffany come home. It was her nightmare, and by no means unfounded. In anger, Frank threatened to take her daughter away from her. This was not the only threat he resorted to in an attempt to reunite his family, and he could hardly be blamed for these attempts. But Rose knew that would never happen. And now she had to face what she feared most: if Tiffany ended up in Montana, she, Rose, would never see her again.

Perhaps she should have insisted that Tiffany's fiancé come to New York and court her here. But for Frank, this would be the last straw. For fifteen years, he respected her wishes and kept away from her daughter. But the time has come, and Tiffany must return to his roof. The mother promised this to Frank and cannot, in good conscience, keep them apart any longer.

Stepping closer, Tiffany held out her hand for the letter. But Rose pointed her to the sofa.

Tiffany, somewhat puzzled, raised an eyebrow, but sat down across from her mother. The room was large, as was the house itself. Rose's parents came from wealthy families who had arrived from the Old World, and now the whole fortune belonged to her. Returning with her three-year-old daughter from Montana, Rose found that her mother was recovering from illnesses that, during the five years that Rose had been away, had left her disabled. Mother lived only four years, but at least Tiffany recognized her grandmother.

It was a painful time in Rose's life. She had to give up her husband and three sons, and then she lost her only parent. But at least she had Tiffany. She would probably go crazy if she had to hand over Tiffany too. But that day has come...

– Another important conversation? Tiffany asked in a bored tone.

“You've gotten cocky since you were eighteen,” Rose pointed out.

“Well, if that’s what you call the indignation that gnaws at me, then fine. Let me be bold.

- Tiffany...

“I'm not going to Montana, Mom. I don't care what that means bloodshed. I will not go there, even if I never see my brothers again. I refuse to marry a man I've never seen,” Tiffany declared, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin defiantly. - Well, finally, I expressed everything that I think, and I will not change my decision.

- I completely agree with you.

Tiffany's eyes widened in surprise and she squealed with delight.

- Thank you! You have no idea how worried I was about this...

“Let me finish,” Rose interrupted her. “I agree that you shouldn't marry a man you've never seen. You go to Montana and meet him. You will have a few months to get to know him better. And if after that time you come to the conclusion that you don't like him, you have the right to end this engagement and return to New York before the cold weather. I give you my word, Tiffany.

“Why didn’t you ever say I could refuse this marriage that you and your father arranged when I was very young?”

“Because I was hoping you would willingly go along with the choice I made for you. I wanted you to get used to the idea and maybe even yearn for this moment.

“But Montana is a wild place!”

Can't we talk without screaming? Rose inquired, and added with a slight chuckle, “Montana isn’t quite as wild as you think. It seemed to me that the brothers convinced you of this. This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It is possible that you will like it there.

“I like it here, where I grew up, where my friends live, where you live,” Tiffany muttered, and continued louder, “And where the men don’t carry a revolver on their belt, always ready to shoot a man.” How could you even agree to this, Mom?

- That was my suggestion.

Rose had never admitted this to her daughter, and now, looking into Tiffany's emerald eyes wide with surprise, she wished she had found a way to explain herself sooner. However, this was hardly possible.

- It turns out that you are throwing me to be eaten by wolves?

“For God's sake, Tiffany, let's do without melodrama. It was the only thing I could think of to end the feud between the Callaghans and the Warrens. And although it did not start because of a strip of land with a source of water located between two ranches, both sides use this land to stir up discord, declaring it their own. I've never seen such brainless stubborn people. As soon as they are at the source at the same time, the shooting begins. Inclusion of this site in the prenuptial agreement between you and Hunter Callahan would put an end to mutual claims.

"And you decided to end a feud you didn't start by sacrificing your only daughter?"

“For your information, young lady, Zachary Callahan is one of the most handsome men that I have ever met. And given the fact that he married a pretty woman, there is no doubt that his sons will grow up to be just as handsome. So I didn't feel like I was sacrificing you at all. On the contrary, I was quite sure that you would be delighted to have one of the Callaghans as your husband. And then, being a person from the outside, I looked at things with different eyes. Of course, ranchers are quite aggressive, especially when it comes to their property, but I don't think that's all that uncommon in those places. Frank and Zachary are just two stubborn people who do not want to give up an inch. The rift began with a nasty story, and disputes over a creek on the border between two ranches do not let it end. But this does not mean that the Callaghans are complete villains. Zachary may have a short temper and a bad temper, but he is a devoted husband and good father which says a lot about a family.

“You didn’t start this feud, and it’s not for you to end it, mom. Why did you interfere at all?

Rose had no intention of burdening Tiffany with the horrors she had to go through. Shooting rose very often, and she was afraid that her children would run into a bullet. And then a simple thought came to her mind: to end the enmity through marriage. When Rose pitched this idea to Frank, she never imagined that she and Tiffany would not stay in Montana. She imagined that Tiffany and Hunter would first become friends, and then fall in love in the most natural way ...

Rose tried to find a simple explanation.

“Of course, I hated this feud, but I tried to ignore it until one night your father was brought home half dead. He was not shot by Callahan himself, but by one of his employees. It's funny, but in the West, workers take the side of their master, and some go further than they are ordered. Whatever it was, your father almost died, and I was so desperate to end the bloodshed that I was ready for anything. And the engagement turned out to be the perfect solution. Since then, there has been a truce. Your brothers grew up without risking a stray bullet every time they left the estate.

Rose held her breath, eagerly waiting for Tiffany's response. What she told her daughter was only part of the truth, although that's how they all reasoned when they shot Frank. But, as it turned out later, the shooter did not work for Callahan. He had another owner who pulled the strings, much more unscrupulous and sophisticated. When Rose found out about this and realized she couldn't bring charges against the true culprit, she did the only thing she could think of to stop Frank from getting revenge after he recovered. She again raised the issue of reconciliation through marriage—the surest way to end family feuds—and this time she stood her ground.

She was the only one who knew what really happened that night and why. Let it all stay that way. Especially since Tiffany's consent to this marriage, arranged by her parents, would be the salvation of two neighboring families too stubborn to agree on sharing water. But Rose was not going to force her daughter to solve the problem created by the older generations. She could only ask Tiffany to give Montana and Hunter Callahan a chance.

Luckily, a slight curiosity showed on Tiffany's face.

“What happens if I really refuse this marriage?” Will they start killing each other again?

Rose inwardly cringed.

- Don't know. I hope that fifteen years of peaceful coexistence made them realize that they should not continue the struggle started by their grandfathers, which has nothing to do with them.

– How did it all start?

- I do not know for sure. It has something to do with a wedding turned into a gunfight.

“Are you saying that these two families were supposed to be related two generations ago?”

- Obviously.

“I wouldn't say that speaks to your idea of ​​trying again,” Tiffany pointed out. “Looks like marriage between these families is doomed to failure.

Rose gave her a stern look.

– With such attitude, probably. Could you at least meet this young man without prejudice? Give him a chance, Tiffany. He can make you very happy.

Tiffany thought for a moment.

“Perhaps now that I know that I don’t have to, against wanting to marry him, I can look at this idea from a new angle ... say, like a two-month vacation in another part of the country. When are we going?

“I won’t go… not all the way, anyway. I'll escort you to Chicago and wait there to see how this courtship ends.

Tiffany's shoulders slumped.

- Why go at all if not to the end?

“Because I want to be relatively close in case you need me.” And thanks to the rail link now running to Montana, Chicago is very close to Nashart. Of course, Anna will go with you. And I arranged for a retired marshal to meet us in Chicago to accompany you on the final stretch of the journey, all the way to your father's doorstep.

Tiffany seemed so devastated by the impending separation that Rose almost burst into tears herself.

“Are you really not happy about the upcoming trip?” she asked hopefully.

“No,” Tiffany said without any expression and headed for the exit.

"Don't you want to see your father again?"

- Again?! Turning sharply, Tiffany exclaimed. “I don't even remember him. Both of you made sure that I didn't have any memories of him. Be honest mom. If I could end this story without meeting Franklin Warren, I would.

- Tiffany!

“I’m not kidding and I don’t want to hear all these excuses why I grew up without a father. If he really wanted to see me, he would have found a way. However, this did not happen. And now it's too late.

She rushed out of the living room, but Rose had time to see the angry tears welling up in her daughter's eyes. God, what has she done to the people she loves more than anything in the world?

Chapter 2

The quarrel with her mother had upset Tiffany so much that her heart was still clenching painfully when she went downstairs to dinner. Rose had only one look at her daughter to understand her feelings. She held out her arms and Tiffany flung herself into her arms. And then they both laughed, because Tiffany, with her height, had to bend down a little so that her mother could hold her close.

Arming her daughter around the waist, Rose led her into the dining room. In the Warren household, dinners were formal, and mother and daughter dressed accordingly, regardless of the presence of guests. Tiffany's coral dress was trimmed with cream sequins along the neckline. Rose had blue dress with black lace, but her bright red hair more than compensated for the rather modest shades of clothing. Only one of her four children, Roy, the third oldest, inherited her red hair. The other two sons were blond, like their father. And only Tiffany, with her reddish-golden hair, went to both parents.

"We won't talk about it again until it's time to pack," Rose assured her daughter as they took their seats at one end of the long table.

“It's all right, mom. I just made up my mind not to go anywhere. And now that I've decided to go, I have a few questions that I should have asked a long time ago.

Perhaps she shouldn't have said the latter, Tiffany decided, noticing the wary expression that flickered across her mother's face before she smiled and said,

- Certainly.

“As far as I know, the transcontinental express crosses the whole country in four days, and Chicago is even closer than halfway. I appreciate you're going to accompany me there, but why don't you go back to New York and wait for the results of this courtship at home instead of staying in Chicago?

- Do you really care?

Tiffany chuckled.

- No. It just seems to me that if you're going all the way to Chicago, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't go all the way to Nashart. Why live two months in a hotel when…

“Chicago is the closest big city that has the amenities I'm used to.

“Fine, but isn’t there a hotel in Nashart?”

- When I left there, there was no, only a boarding house. Now it may have appeared, but I can't hide in such a small town. Too many people remember me. Frank will definitely find out about my arrival and break down the doors.

Tiffany shot her mother an incredulous look.

- Break down doors? Are you exaggerating?

"Then why didn't he come here and break down the door?" Tiffany asked with an angry note in her voice that her mother luckily didn't notice.

“Because I knew I was going to put him in jail,” Rose said, adding in disgust, “No one in Nashart would blink an eye at such violent behavior.

- Why?

“Because I'm still his wife and everyone knows it,” Rose replied.

“But why, mother?

This was the question that interested Tiffany more than anything in the world and to which she never received a satisfactory answer. Her parents lived separately for fifteen years, but never divorced to remarry. And Rose was still beautiful woman under the age of forty.

Her parents met in Chicago when Rose was visiting her great-aunt, now deceased. In your last night in Chicago, Rose went to a dinner party hosted by her grandmother's lawyer friend. It so happened that among his clients was Franklin Warren, who came to the city to conclude contracts for the sale of livestock. He also received an invitation to dinner. After chatting with Rose all evening, Frank got on her train the next day, rode with her to New York and began courting her swiftly, turning her head. A month later they got married. And that was all Tiffany knew about her parents' marriage.

“I thought that when I turned eighteen, you would finally tell me why I live here with you, and my brothers live in Montana with their father.

"There's nothing to tell here," Rose said evasively, and set to work on the soup that had just been served. “Your father and I were just not right for each other.

“Suppose you were qualified enough to get married and have four children.

- Don't hold back.

Tiffany grimaced.

- Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But, Mom, I'm old enough to hear the truth, and I'd like to hear it before I meet him.

Rose ate in silence, as if she had no intention of continuing the conversation. Tiffany never touched her soup.

She was already thinking about giving up when Rose finally spoke.

“We got married too soon, Tiffany, and only then did we discover how little we had in common. And he did not warn me about the enmity, which could not but affect our lives. Nevertheless, I did everything to make our marriage work. I loved him.

And still loves, Tiffany guessed, but refrained from commenting. Rose has always avoided this topic. The statement that she and Frank had nothing in common was an obvious excuse not to discuss the real reason that forced her to leave her husband.

“If I had a reason, I would divorce your father,” Rose added after a short silence.

Do you mean another man?

- Yes. But this did not happen. However, I am not sure that I could get a divorce. Shortly after I ran away, taking you with me, he said he would not allow a divorce.

- Did you run away?

“Yes, in the middle of the night, to catch the first stagecoach of the morning and have a head start on Frank. At that time there was no railroad connection with Montana. And my maid covered up the departure by telling him I wasn't feeling well.

Tiffany was intrigued. It was the first time she had heard that her mother had fled Montana on the sly. But, if Frank didn't wake up and find that she wasn't there, then...

"Didn't you… sleep in the same room?"

No, not by that time.

The subject was not so sensitive as to be embarrassing, and Tiffany wondered why her mother's cheeks were suddenly flushed. Rose hadn't even blushed two years ago when she initiated Tiffany into the mysteries of married life. But if her parents' marriage had gotten to the point where they didn't even sleep in the same bed, then the answer kind of suggested itself. Rose must have stopped wanting her husband—in that very sense. Either that, or Franklin Warren just turned into a bad husband, with whom life became unbearable for Rose. And if the latter, then Tiffany would like to know about it before she arrives at the Warren ranch. What if he stopped her from leaving if she refused to marry Hunter Callahan, just like he stopped Rose from leaving?

But since Rose was clearly uncomfortable, Tiffany decided not to push. However, she was curious about how her mother managed to escape, because she might have to do the same.

“Isn’t it faster to get on horseback than in a mail coach?” she asked.

- Faster, of course. Besides, I had no doubt that Frank would try to intercept us on the way. Therefore, at the very first stop, I bought a ticket for a mail coach to the nearest railway station, but did not get into it. Instead, we hid in the city.

I don't remember anything about this trip.

“No wonder, you were quite a baby.

So he got ahead of us?

- Yes. It's much easier to know where he is than to keep looking over your shoulder. I telegraphed my mother to meet Frank and ask him to leave. Because of his stubbornness, I did not dare to go home immediately. He did not sleep for two days, standing in front of our house, waiting for my appearance. And then he stayed in New York for another three months, every day coming to our doorstep and banging on the door. Once he even managed to break in.

- We were there?

“No, I wasn't even going to approach the house until he was out of town. We lived near my school friend. Mom, of course, got Frank arrested for trespassing and ransacking the house from top to bottom. She was terribly angry with him. Because of his persistence, we could not return home. She made him spend a week in prison and only then, at my request, withdrew the charge. But it had an effect. He finally gave up and returned to Montana.

“Perhaps he did not divorce you because he did not leave hope for your return,” Tiffany said.

- Oh, no doubt. No matter what I say, no matter how I feel about this idea, he continues to think that one day I will return.

– Will you come back?

Rose lowered her eyes.

"Don't you think your unwillingness to get a divorce gives him false hope?" Surely after so many years he wouldn't resist?

- Don't know. He said he would go to his grave married to me. He's so stubborn that it's entirely possible. But, I repeat, I never had the desire to test his resolve.

“You're texting,” said Tiffany. Why don't you just ask him?

Rose smiled wryly.

“We don't touch 'us' in these letters, Tiff. Only the first time, at least from his side. At first he was angry that I left without saying anything, then he was worried that I refused to return, then he was angry again. Finally it dawned on him that I would only write about children and nothing else. Once, when he wrote about our marriage, I did not answer him for a whole year. When she finally wrote, she warned that you would read his letters in the future, and he limited himself to neutral topics.

All the letters Tiffany read were written in a friendly tone. Some were even funny, proving that her father had a sense of humor. But everything he wrote about the ranch, her brothers, mutual acquaintances in Montana whom she did not know and whom she might meet if she went there. He never spoke directly to Tiffany, limiting himself to asking her to convey his words of love to her. She also read Rose's letters to her husband, and she always asked if her daughter wanted to add something to the letter. And Tiffany added. She told her father how she learned to skate with her best friend Marjorie and what fun it was when she fell on the ice. About how upset she was when she accidentally broke the nose of David, the boy next door, but he forgave her and they remained friends. About a kitten that she found and lost, and she and Rose were looking for him for several weeks. She shared much in these letters until she began to feel resentment because her father had never bothered to visit her.

This resentment grew, especially when her brothers came to visit them - alone. Tiffany usually stood at the door, watching them get out of the carriage, waiting for her father to show up. But he did not appear, and the carriage departed. Empty. The third time it happened, Tiffany became withdrawn, and at the thought of Franklin Warren she felt only emptiness.

She no longer stood at the door with hope in her soul and tears in her eyes. She stopped reading Frank's letters and annotating Rose's. She was about nine or ten years old at the time, Tiffany didn't remember exactly. After that, she only pretended to read his letters so that her mother would not guess how painfully she perceives her father's neglect. It was the only way to protect himself from something that hurt so badly. She tried to push Frank away in her mind, as if he did not exist - until she received a letter from one of the brothers, where the father was mentioned and how much the boys loved him. When she finished reading the letter, tears were streaming down her face.

The brothers had no idea how she felt. When they came to visit, they always talked about their father. They clearly loved him. Why not, since he hadn't abandoned them as he had abandoned her? They simply did not notice that Tiffany was not listening to them or was trying to turn the conversation to a less painful topic. She hated the time when they had to leave, returning to her father. They were so much fun to play with, ride in the park, tease each other. Like they were real family. Their departure has always proven otherwise.

Do you hate him, mom?

- That's too strong a word. Your father has an unbearable temperament. Stubborn, arrogant, self-confident. I guess it stems from the fact that he built his empire with my own hands, from nothing. He constantly clashed with neighbors. Sometimes I thought he was enjoying this war. There were days when I was afraid to leave the ranch. But he only laughed, advising her not to fill her pretty head with such thoughts. You can't imagine how it pissed me off. I was so angry that I could run to the Callaghans and shoot them all. Maybe I would have done that if I could shoot. No, I didn't hate him, I just couldn't live with him anymore.

"And you're not going to tell me why, are you?"

– I do…

He cheated on you, didn't he? Tiffany guessed.

- Tiffany!

- Just say yes. It's the only thing that makes sense.

“We are just two people who could no longer live under the same roof. I loved Frank enough to leave him, leaving it to me to find someone more suitable.

It was an unexpected confession that escaped from Rose in one breath with attempts to prove the opposite. Maybe the whole point is that she loved her husband too much? What is so terrible about the truth that makes Rose come up with excuses that have nothing to do with reality?

Tiffany allowed herself another guess.

“Or maybe you yourself found someone else, but it didn’t work?

- Tiffany, stop it. There was no other man. And the other woman too. There was family drama and still is. Why are you making me relive it?

Rose knew what to say to force her daughter to back off. Tiffany did just that. She adored her mother. But for too long she lived with resentment in her soul, confident that her father had abandoned them both. And now, when she was to meet him, she was afraid that on the ranch resentment would spill out into accusations. Her mother might not hate Frank Warren, but Tiffany knew exactly what she felt for her father: hatred. It was too strong to be anything else.

Oh god, she managed to freeze her heart in ice, pretending she didn't care about her father's neglect. But now all the pain had suddenly returned, building up in her chest, and Tiffany felt like a little girl again, standing at the door, staring after the empty carriage.

“Sorry,” she said to her mother. “Actually, I was hoping that you could give a reason not to hate your own father, but apparently in vain. I'm going to Montana to keep the promise you made, but I want to meet Frank even less than you do.

Her calm tone told Rose that this was more than just an emotional statement.

“Callahan can look after me in the city,” Tiffany said after a short pause. “I don’t need to stay at my father’s ranch.

“And how will the Callaghans react to the fact that you are in a quarrel with your father?” Not too convincing evidence that the old feud is over, don't you think?

“All right,” said Tiffany grumpily. - We'll have to be patient.

Rose laughed.

“Baby, don’t forget your upbringing. You must be polite and kind. Now let's change the damn subject," she added, not too gracefully. - Eat your fish. You may not see her soon. The ranch only eats beef.

Tiffany nodded, suppressing her annoyance. She never found out why her parents broke up. But if the mother doesn't want to talk, maybe the father will tell...

Joanna Lindsay

Love doesn't wait

Even before her daughter, Tiffany, opened the front door of the city mansion, Rose Warren had stopped crying, but she couldn't get the words out of her mind that had upset her to tears: “Come with her, Rose. Fifteen years have passed. Haven't you tortured us all long enough?"

She usually let her daughter read letters from Franklin Warren. He always kept a neutral tone so that Rose could share them with her daughter. But not this time, and Rose hurriedly crumpled up the letter and slipped it into her pocket when she heard Tiffany's voice coming from the hall. The daughter did not know why her parents did not live together. Even Frank did not know the true reason that made Rose leave him. And after so many years, it seemed better to leave things as they were.

Tiffany, please come into the living room! Rose called to her daughter before she went upstairs to her room.

Tiffany took off her hat as she entered the living room, revealing her reddish-blond hair in the midday light. Then she pulled off a short light cape from her shoulders. Although the weather was warm, decency required that respectable ladies should dress appropriately when they left their homes.

Looking at her daughter, Rose once again realized that her dear baby was no longer small. Tiffany turned eighteen this year, and Rose prayed that her daughter would stop growing. At five feet and eight inches, she was already well above average and often lamented about it. Tiffany's height went to her father, but she inherited emerald green eyes from him, she just did not know about it. From Rose she inherited graceful features that made her unusually pretty, and red hair, but more of a copper hue.

I received a letter from your father.

There was no answer.

Tiffany used to enjoy Frank's letters, but that time was long over - around the same time she stopped asking when he would arrive.

Rose's heart broke at the indifference with which her daughter began to treat her father. Of course, Tiffany didn't have any memories of Frank. She was too small when they left Nashart, a small town in Montana. Rose felt that she should have allowed them to date. Frank was generous enough to send boys to her in New York, and she felt guilty that she was not paying him the same by not allowing her daughter to visit him in Montana. But she was too afraid that Frank would not let Tiffany come home. It was her nightmare, and by no means unfounded. In anger, Frank threatened to take her daughter away from her. This was not the only threat he resorted to in an attempt to reunite his family, and he could hardly be blamed for these attempts. But Rose knew that would never happen. And now she had to face what she feared most: if Tiffany ended up in Montana, she, Rose, would never see her again.

Perhaps she should have insisted that Tiffany's fiancé come to New York and court her here. But for Frank, this would be the last straw. For fifteen years, he respected her wishes and kept away from her daughter. But the time has come, and Tiffany must return to his roof. The mother promised this to Frank and cannot, in good conscience, keep them apart any longer.

Stepping closer, Tiffany held out her hand for the letter. But Rose pointed her to the sofa.

Tiffany, somewhat puzzled, raised an eyebrow, but sat down across from her mother. The room was large, as was the house itself. Rose's parents came from wealthy families who had arrived from the Old World, and now the whole fortune belonged to her. Returning with her three-year-old daughter from Montana, Rose found that her mother was recovering from illnesses that, during the five years that Rose had been away, had left her disabled. Mother lived only four years, but at least Tiffany recognized her grandmother.

Joanna Lindsay

Love doesn't wait

Even before her daughter, Tiffany, opened the front door of the city mansion, Rose Warren had stopped crying, but she couldn't get the words out of her mind that had upset her to tears: “Come with her, Rose. Fifteen years have passed. Haven't you tortured us all long enough?"

She usually let her daughter read letters from Franklin Warren. He always kept a neutral tone so that Rose could share them with her daughter. But not this time, and Rose hurriedly crumpled up the letter and slipped it into her pocket when she heard Tiffany's voice coming from the hall. The daughter did not know why her parents did not live together. Even Frank did not know the true reason that made Rose leave him. And after so many years, it seemed better to leave things as they were.

Tiffany, please come into the living room! Rose called to her daughter before she went upstairs to her room.

Tiffany took off her hat as she entered the living room, revealing her reddish-blond hair in the midday light. Then she pulled off a short light cape from her shoulders. Although the weather was warm, decency required that respectable ladies should dress appropriately when they left their homes.

Looking at her daughter, Rose once again realized that her dear baby was no longer small. Tiffany turned eighteen this year, and Rose prayed that her daughter would stop growing. At five feet and eight inches, she was already well above average and often lamented about it. Tiffany's height went to her father, but she inherited emerald green eyes from him, she just did not know about it. From Rose she inherited graceful features that made her unusually pretty, and red hair, but more of a copper hue.

I received a letter from your father.

There was no answer.

Tiffany used to enjoy Frank's letters, but that time was long over - around the same time she stopped asking when he would arrive.

Rose's heart broke at the indifference with which her daughter began to treat her father. Of course, Tiffany didn't have any memories of Frank. She was too small when they left Nashart, a small town in Montana. Rose felt that she should have allowed them to date. Frank was generous enough to send boys to her in New York, and she felt guilty that she was not paying him the same by not allowing her daughter to visit him in Montana. But she was too afraid that Frank would not let Tiffany come home. It was her nightmare, and by no means unfounded. In anger, Frank threatened to take her daughter away from her. This was not the only threat he resorted to in an attempt to reunite his family, and he could hardly be blamed for these attempts. But Rose knew that would never happen. And now she had to face what she feared most: if Tiffany ended up in Montana, she, Rose, would never see her again.

Perhaps she should have insisted that Tiffany's fiancé come to New York and court her here. But for Frank, this would be the last straw. For fifteen years, he respected her wishes and kept away from her daughter. But the time has come, and Tiffany must return to his roof. The mother promised this to Frank and cannot, in good conscience, keep them apart any longer.

Stepping closer, Tiffany held out her hand for the letter. But Rose pointed her to the sofa.

Tiffany, somewhat puzzled, raised an eyebrow, but sat down across from her mother. The room was large, as was the house itself. Rose's parents came from wealthy families who had arrived from the Old World, and now the whole fortune belonged to her. Returning with her three-year-old daughter from Montana, Rose found that her mother was recovering from illnesses that, during the five years that Rose had been away, had left her disabled. Mother lived only four years, but at least Tiffany recognized her grandmother.

It was a painful time in Rose's life. She had to give up her husband and three sons, and then she lost her only parent. But at least she had Tiffany. She would probably go crazy if she had to hand over Tiffany too. But that day has come...

Another important conversation? asked Tiffany in a bored tone.

You've gotten cocky since you were eighteen, Rose pointed out.

Well, if that's what you call the indignation that gnaws at me, then fine. Let me be bold.

Tiffany...

I'm not going to Montana, Mom. I don't care what that means bloodshed. I will not go there, even if I never see my brothers again. I refuse to marry a man I've never seen," Tiffany declared, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin defiantly. - Well, finally, I expressed everything that I think, and I will not change my decision.

I completely agree with you.

Tiffany's eyes widened in surprise and she squealed with delight.

Thank you! You have no idea how worried I was about this...

Let me finish,” Rose interrupted her. - I agree that you can't marry a man you've never seen. You go to Montana and meet him. You will have a few months to get to know him better. And if after that time you come to the conclusion that you don't like him, you have the right to end this engagement and return to New York before the cold weather. I give you my word, Tiffany.

Why did you never tell me that I could refuse this marriage that you and your father arranged when I was very young?

Because I was hoping that you would willingly go along with the choice I made for you. I wanted you to get used to the idea and maybe even yearn for this moment.

But Montana is a wild place!

Can't we talk without screaming? Rose inquired, and added with a slight chuckle, "Montana isn't quite as wild as you think." It seemed to me that the brothers convinced you of this. This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It is possible that you will like it there.

I like it here, where I grew up, where my friends live, where you live," Tiffany muttered and continued louder, "And where men don't carry revolvers on their belts, always ready to shoot a man. How could you even agree to this, Mom?

This was my suggestion.

Rose had never admitted this to her daughter, and now, looking into Tiffany's emerald eyes wide with surprise, she wished she had found a way to explain herself sooner. However, this was hardly possible.

It turns out that you are throwing me to be eaten by wolves?

For God's sake, Tiffany, let's do without melodrama. It was the only thing I could think of to end the feud between the Callaghans and the Warrens. And although it did not start because of a strip of land with a source of water located between two ranches, both sides use this land to stir up discord, declaring it their own. I've never seen such brainless stubborn people. As soon as they are at the source at the same time, the shooting begins. Inclusion of this site in the prenuptial agreement between you and Hunter Callahan would put an end to mutual claims.

And you chose to end a feud you didn't start by sacrificing your only daughter?

For your information, young lady, Zachary Callahan is one of the most handsome men I have ever met. And given the fact that he married a pretty woman, there is no doubt that his sons will grow up to be just as handsome. So I didn't feel like I was sacrificing you at all. On the contrary, I was quite sure that you would be delighted to have one of the Callaghans as your husband. And then, being a person from the outside, I looked at things with different eyes. Of course, ranchers are quite aggressive, especially when it comes to their property, but I don't think that's all that uncommon in those places. Frank and Zachary are just two stubborn people who do not want to give up an inch. The rift began with a nasty story, and disputes over a creek on the border between two ranches do not let it end. But that doesn't mean the Callaghans are complete villains. Zachary may have a short temper and a bad temper, but he is a devoted husband and a good father, which says a lot about the family.

You didn't start this feud, and it's not for you to end it, mom. Why did you interfere at all?

Rose had no intention of burdening Tiffany with the horrors she had to go through. Shooting rose very often, and she was afraid that her children would run into a bullet. And then a simple thought came to her mind: to end the enmity through marriage. When Rose pitched this idea to Frank, she never imagined that she and Tiffany would not stay in Montana. She imagined that Tiffany and Hunter would first become friends, and then fall in love in the most natural way ...

Tiffany didn't interact much with her father. She lived with her mother all the time in a large mansion in New York. But now she must go to another city, where she will meet her future husband. The two feuding families decided to come to terms, and the wedding of their children would be the perfect way out and would cement their agreement. Of course, no one forces Tiffany to marry if she doesn’t like the groom at all. But only Hunter is also not eager to marry some pampered townswoman, who probably has that character. In addition, he falls in love with the new housekeeper, who seems to him perfection. But the guy still does not know who is really hiding behind the identity of the housekeeper ...

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