The Girl in Rags

PART 2 — The Secret Behind Her Father’s Name

Josephine reluctantly released Hattie’s arm.

Wyatt stepped closer.

“I asked her a question. I expect to hear her answer.”

Hattie looked at the tall rancher, uncertain whether she could trust him.

“My father married Mrs. Miller three years before he died,” she explained quietly. “After his death, she took over the house and everything he owned. I’ve been working here ever since.”

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed.

“Everything he owned?”

Josephine immediately interrupted.

“Mr. Callahan, my husband left considerable debts. I have sacrificed everything to keep this property running.”

Hattie almost laughed.

The property was barely running. Most of the livestock had been sold, the fences were falling apart, and the barns were nearly empty.

But she said nothing.

Wyatt studied her for a moment.

“Can you read and write?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you keep accounts?”

“Yes.”

“Understand livestock?”

“Better than most people in this town, I suspect.”

The answer escaped before Hattie could stop herself.

One of the ranch hands chuckled.

Wyatt smiled.

“Good. I have a herd of nearly twenty thousand cattle, and I need people who understand more than fashionable conversation.”

Clara stepped forward.

“Mr. Callahan, perhaps we could discuss that over dinner. My mother and I would be delighted to visit your mansion.”

Wyatt barely glanced at her.

“Perhaps another time, Miss Miller.”

Clara’s smile stiffened.

Josephine quickly changed the subject.

“Surely you don’t intend to employ this girl? She’s clumsy, uneducated, and completely unsuitable for respectable company.”

Wyatt’s expression became cold.

“I watched her accomplish in five minutes what three experienced men couldn’t accomplish in an hour. That is more impressive than anything I’ve seen at this barbecue.”

He turned to Hattie.

“I’d like you to visit Iron Creek Ranch tomorrow morning. I have a position that might interest you.”

Hattie stared at him.

“Me?”

“Unless there’s another Henrietta Coulter hiding behind you.”

For the first time in years, Hattie smiled.

“I’ll come, sir.”

Wyatt tipped his hat and walked toward the main house.

Josephine waited until he disappeared before turning on her stepdaughter.

“You foolish girl! Do you understand what you’ve done?”

“I only helped his horse.”

“You made him notice you!”

Clara’s face twisted with jealousy.

“Mother, he was supposed to notice me!”

Josephine seized Hattie’s wrist.

“Listen carefully. Tomorrow, you are not going anywhere. If necessary, I’ll lock you in that barn.”

But Hattie gently pulled her arm free.

“I’m twenty-four years old, Mrs. Miller. You cannot keep me hidden forever.”

Josephine stared at her in disbelief.

That evening, Hattie returned to the barn.

As she searched beneath an old wooden chest for a blanket, her fingers touched something wrapped in oilcloth.

She pulled it out.

Inside was a small leather-bound book, several folded papers, and a letter bearing her father’s handwriting.

Her hands began to tremble.

My dearest Henrietta,

If you are reading this, then I am no longer here to protect you. There are things about our family estate that your stepmother must never discover. I have placed the truth where only you can find it.

Hattie unfolded the remaining papers.

The first was an old land survey.

The second was a legal document bearing the seal of the county courthouse.

And the third contained a name she had not expected to see.

Josiah Callahan.

The patriarch of Iron Creek Ranch.

Hattie read the document twice.

According to her father’s records, a substantial portion of the land now controlled by the Callahan family had once belonged to the Coulter estate. Thomas had agreed to a temporary arrangement years earlier, but the final transfer had never been legally completed.

There was also a missing record—one that could determine who truly owned thousands of acres of valuable grazing land.

Hattie sat down on the edge of her narrow bed.

Her father hadn’t left her penniless.

He had left her something far more valuable.

A claim.

And perhaps the reason Josephine had been so desperate to keep her away from the Callahans.

Outside, the sound of approaching horses interrupted her thoughts.

A knock followed.

“Hattie? It’s Wyatt Callahan.”

She hurried to the door and opened it.

Wyatt stood beneath the moonlight, holding a small lantern.

“I apologize for coming so late,” he said. “But there’s something I need to ask you.”

His eyes fell upon the old documents in her hands.

Then he recognized the signature on the top page.

His expression changed completely.

“Where did you get that?”

“My father’s belongings.”

Wyatt stepped closer.

“Miss Coulter, I think you and I need to have a very serious conversation.”

He paused, looking toward the main house.

“Because if that document is genuine, my father has been hiding something from me for twenty years.”

And somewhere inside the house, Josephine had just realized that Hattie had found the one thing she had spent three years trying to destroy.