Free Season of Fear by Christine Bush Page B

her soul. The very thought of her aloneness reopened the wound in Robin's heart from her father's death. But she valiantly kept a smile on her face as she sat with the children and joined in their light-hearted conversation about horses, the ranch, and, of course, Sara's Mac.
    Robin was no closer to the truth about the death of Laura Ridley. But at least there had been no further threats to her own life. Daily, though, she saw that two cowhands were stationed outside the house, one in the front, and one in the back. They were, she had no doubt, a precaution to keep things safe. And deep in her heart, she felt very grateful to Alex for that.
    The letter arrived in the morning mail, delivered to the house by the cheerful, suntanned mailman in his jeep with a bright government decal on the side. Robin waved back to him with a smile as he pulled out of the long drive, and then turned her attention to the letter she held in her hand. She was startled for a moment to see that it was addressed to her. Who would be writing to her? As her eye caught the familiar Chicago postmark on the stamp, she felt a surge of relief. News from Herman at last?
    But her relief faded to puzzlement as she regarded the return address on the envelope. "Welby, Wordan, and Wells, Attorneys-at-Law." News from a lawyer 9
    Involuntarily, Robin's hand began to shake as she stood in the open doorway of the Ridley house. She clutched the still unopened letter to her as she swung the heavy door shut and quickly slipped down the long hall to the privacy of her own room. If she was to receive bad news, she had no desire to show her reaction to the family around her.
    She shut her bedroom door behind her, and, with shaking and perspiring fingers, struggled with the envelope flap. She unfolded the formal letter and began to read:
     
    Dear Ms. North:
    Forgive me for contacting you in this way, but I find myself in a position that requires your immediate attention.
    During my many conversations with your cousin, Mr. Herman Robinson of Chicago, I was assured that he would immediately contact you to set the details of my business before you and direct you to get in touch with my firm.
    However, due to the lapse of time and your lack of response, I have taken the liberty of calling the Robinson Resort. Since I found that Mr. Robinson could not be reached, I inquired as to your whereabouts so that I could contact you myself.
    To reiterate the details: As I acted as your father's personal lawyer, his last will and testament names you as his sole heir, as you already know.
    In addition to inheriting the house and personal bank account, about which we notified you at the time of your father's death, it has come to our attention that your father made some private investments prior to his last illness, which were unknown to us at that time.
    These investments have multiplied rapidly and are worth a sum of approximately $400,000. There are legal matters concerning this which demand your attention.
    We are awaiting your word to begin the final closing of the estate. Please contact us as soon as possible.
    Sincerely,
    Robert Wells, Attorney at Law
     
    Robin dropped to the edge of her bed to catch her breath. She had to think, she had to calm the whirlwind in her head, the confusion that overwhelmed her.
    Such a large estate! Was it possible? She was rich, undeniably rich. But what about Herman? As the letter before her implied, he had known the details of her father's will and all about her surprise inheritance. But why, why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't he even hinted that such things were in the wind? The knot in her stomach began to tighten.
    Herman had disappeared. Had he kept the news from her deliberately? What could he possibly gain by doing that?
    But then Robin remembered his smiling kindness in the weeks that followed her father's death. He had efficiently handled all of the legal details, made the necessary contacts with the lawyers, made the arrangements for her own