The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

it would be a good idea for me to hold a séance at your home. Your son does not like me."
    "Travis thinks you're cheating people out of their money, and he's a very honest man. But what better place to try to contact Tanner than in his home?"
    Desirée shrugged. "When you don't believe in the power of the spirits, it's hard to understand."
    "Don't worry about my son, Travis. I'll take care of him. He's not going to shut you down. Not if I can help it." Eugenia patted Madame Severin's hand.
    "Thank you, Mrs. Burnett."
    Eugenia sipped the warm, soothing liquid and then placed her cup back on the table. "I really must be going before Travis starts looking for me."
    She stood and Desirée rose from her chair and walked her to the door. "We'll get together soon. I do so much want to find my son."
    Eugenia stepped outside.
    "You know where to find me. Good day, Mrs. Burnett." Desirée closed the door with a decisive click.
    Eugenia took two steps down the wooden sidewalk and halted. Leaning against a support pole, scowling, stood her oldest son.
    "Hello, Mother."

Chapter Two

    Several days later, Rose sat in the kitchen of the small house they had rented to conduct their business and lifted the cup of steaming coffee to her lips. She sipped carefully, letting the hot liquid ease down her sore throat. Business had been brisk the night before, and this morning she needed Isaiah's rich, hot brew to soothe her aching voice.
    "I'll fix you some breakfast, Miss Rose?"
    "No thanks," she answered, the sound of her real name a pleasant shock. Isaiah liked to use Rose, rather than Desirée, the stage name she had chosen.
    Isaiah picked up his morning dishes and placed them in a tub of hot water. "Miss Rose, I need to leave town for a few days."
    "Is something wrong, Isaiah?" she asked, surprised at his request.
    "I received a telegram this morning. My father is not doing very well. He's getting on in years, and I want to go see him," he said, dipping a clean plate in hot rinse water.
    Through the open window, a sparrow sang to the morning sky, his melody sweet, the sound touching.
    Running this business took both of them, but the first few days of the week were generally slow.
    "I won't be gone long, Miss Rose. My father lives little more than a day's ride away. I'd be back before the weekend."
    "You know, Isaiah, that you're free to come and go as you please," she said to the black man. He was her friend, her protector, and her mother had given him his freedom papers when Rose was just a baby.
    "I know. But my life is here with you."
    "You've been with me longer than either of my parents." She shook her head. "At least when mother was alive, your job was more exciting. Being around the stage, protecting her from the crowds, seeing so many famous people. The years with me must have been dull for you."
    "No, ma'am. This séance thing has been the best idea we've had." The black man scratched his head. "Your mother was a good woman, Miss Rose, but I'm satisfied with things the way they are now."
    "You need to be careful calling me by my real name, Isaiah. I'm afraid one of these days you're going to let it slip in front of a customer."
    "It's hard for me to call you that highfalutin French name. It's not you. It's not the name your mama, bless her soul, gave you."
    "Maybe not, but customers are drawn to the unusual. A French woman in this part of the country sticks out like a New Yorker on the range."
    "I understand, but that don't mean I like it none."
    "No, but it attracts customers. And we need customers."
    Rose sat and gazed into her coffee, dreaming of the mother she could barely remember, wishing life had been different.
    "Go ahead, Isaiah. Go see your father. But try to be back before the weekend. The next few weeks should be busy, with all the herds hitting town. Soon it will be time for us to move on. Visit your family while you have the chance."
    "Thank you, Miss Rose. You be real careful while I'm gone. Your mama gave me strict instructions to take care of you, and I aim to keep that promise."
    Rose shook her head. "It's been almost twenty years, Isaiah. You can take a few days off from your death-bed promise."
    "Your mama was good to me, and I gave her my word. You just sit tight for a few days until I return."
    ***
    Rose nervously glanced around the table at the two cowboys and the woman who looked as though she belonged in Miss Riley's whorehouse. She'd never held a séance without Isaiah before, and this one didn't