Page 80 - Homestead By Ann Newhouse

baby was given to Buck by a woman and her husband, organised by one of Buck’s farm hands, who he had paid to initiate the kidnapping. I asked her if Buck had told her who the couple were?
“I’m not sure of the woman’s name but the man was called Skinny, I believe.” This information put my head in a spin. I knew that name . . . I searched my memory and recalled overhearing a heated conversation my parents were having, many years before. Out of the blue my mother had shouted . . . “Skinny . . . we’ll burn in hell for what we have done with that baby...!” and went into deep sobbing.
I knew that my father’s name was Dan, but I do remember my mother calling him ‘Skinny’ on a few rare occasions when I was very young. This was my father’s nickname. I always had to address him as Sir, just as my mother had done, as he was always ordering us about. I knew my mother’s name because he would shout “Martha” loudly, every time he wanted something.
I now realised that it was my father who had kidnapped the baby and handed it over to Buck. I knew why my mother had the document, paper cuttings and letters in her possession and wanted me to have them . . . Why? because she had believed I would not rest until I had solved the mystery. Was she hoping to be forgiven, for the wrong she and my father had done, if I found the missing baby? She tried to reach out to Margarete, but the letter had never been sent. Somehow, I felt relieved. I would, perhaps, be able to do something for my mother and let her rest in peace.
What of my father? What did he do with the money he got for kidnapping Shelley Tully’s baby? I don’t know the amount Gus Tirrell had given my father to do the deed. All I know is my mother didn’t see a cent of it. It was her guilt that she allowed to affect her health. That’s why my father had no pity for her. He saw her as a weakling. John Tirrell approved of the dreadful actions of his father, and that, I believed, was why the Ranch was set on fire.
Now that the terrible secret would come out, we could all move on. I was hoping Sofie would see sense and leave the Homestead to live the life she wanted. I was truly hoping I would be part of that plan. When I returned from the cattle drive, I would have to confront Sofie for her to make a decision and a commitment.
Tom was like my shadow on the drive and considered himself my best friend. I had to be careful what our conversations were about as I was not sure that Tom was really my friend. The drive was just a short run and we were back in Homestead in a couple of days. I took the chance to visit the big house as it was late evening when we got back. It was now the end of the summer and the bright evenings were closing in. As I approached the house Johanna was coming down the steps.