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Meet Me In the Yorkshire Dales

By Valerie Massey Goree

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CHAPTER 1
Fanning her face with a magazine did little to relieve the stuffiness in the waiting room. The indoor temperature almost matched the early June morning. Roxanne glanced across at the sofa by the window where a blonde with a movie star figure sat, and said, “You’d think lawyers could afford air-conditioning.”
“I thought the same thing.” The woman gathered her shoulder-length curls into a ponytail and dabbed her nape with a tissue. “Did you by any chance receive a letter demanding your presence here today?”
“I did. It’s all a bit mysterious.” Roxanne adjusted the patch covering her left eye. “I don’t think I’m in trouble, and I know I don't have a wealthy aunt who’s named me in her will.” She’d fashioned her long hair into a twist secured with a claw clip to keep it off her neck and out of her eyes. The patch seemed to attract stray strands.
“Me neither.” The woman pointed to the ornate metal clock on the opposite wall. “Mr. Ogden’s running late. I—”
The inner door opened and a tall, elderly woman emerged. “Mr. Ogden will see you now. Please come through.”
A sweet but pleasant floral scent surrounded the blonde as she walked past Roxanne and entered the office.
A middle-aged man in a gray suit stood beside an antique oak desk. “I’m Thomas Ogden and I apologize for the warm room and for keeping you waiting. A technician is on his way. My office is much cooler. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the two armchairs and sat in his desk chair. “Would either of you like something to drink? Coffee, water?”
Roxanne and the blonde shook their heads.
“That will be all, Mrs. Edwards.”
The tall woman exited through a side door.
The blonde settled on the chair closest to the desk and crossed her legs. The skirt of her maroon dress barely covered her thighs.
For a fleeting moment, Roxanne wished she’d worn something more sophisticated than blue jeans and a coral pink shirt. A trivial thought for such a serious occasion. She perched on the edge of a coffee-colored leather armchair and cleared her throat. Enough dawdling. “Why are we here, Mr. Ogden?”
“Straight to the point. I like that.” He smoothed the pages of a file on his desk. “Did you bring identification?”
Roxanne set her passport on the desk and the other woman produced a driver’s license.
Ogden opened the passport and looked at Roxanne. “You are Roxanne Ruth Clarke?”
“Yes.”
The lawyer picked up the driver’s license. “You are Petra Christine Vandiver?”
“I am.” Her voice had taken on a silky quality.
“With that important task out of the way, I can tell you why you were invited—”
“Summoned, more like.” Roxanne bit her lip as he raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry.”
“Please, no more interruptions. You are here because one of you is the sole heir to your grandfather’s estate.” He leaned back and folded his arms, a smug expression crossed his oval face.
His statement swirled around the cool room and punched Roxanne in the gut. Seldom at a loss for words, she stammered, “Wh…what?” She stared at Ogden and then at Petra who blinked rapidly and shifted in her chair.
“I know this is a big surprise for both of you, but I will explain.” The lawyer pointed to the file.
He sure was taking his sweet time. Roxanne stood and paced to the window. “I don’t think I should be here. I’m adopted and was always told I had no blood relatives.”
“Same here.” Now Petra’s voice wobbled as if she was on the verge of tears. “I am curious, though.”
“Miss Clarke, please sit down.”
She complied with his stern request.
“By the way, why are you wearing a patch?”
Ready to jump up and read the contents of Ogden’s folder herself, she glared at him. “You’re interested in my physical appearance when my world has just turned upside-down?”
“Please indulge me.”
“I had surgery yesterday. A cornea transplant.”
“Why?”
As if it were any of his business.
“Please, Mr. Ogden.” Petra leaned forward, exposing more cleavage. “Get back to the will. Who is this man and how much…how big is his estate?”
“All in good time. It’s apparent neither of you knew you had a grandfather until today. You can wait a few more minutes. Now, Miss Clarke, do you know anything about your birth mother?”
His question knocked the wind out of her frustration. Roxanne swallowed. She’d been devasted by the answers her parents gave her when she’d asked. “No. The adoption was private and closed. I love my parents and they provided a wonderful, secure childhood, but it would be nice to…”
“How about you, Petra?”
She shrugged. “Nope.”
“I will now get to the nitty-gritty of your visit.”
Roxanne frowned. “Just a minute, Mr. Ogden. If Petra and I share a grandfather, does that make us cousins? If so, wouldn’t the eldest inherit?”
“Cool your jets, young lady. It’s not that simple.”
“Let the man explain.” Petra wrung her hands. “Don’t you want to know the details?” She uncrossed her legs and then crossed her ankles.
Roxanne glanced at her and could understand her desperation. “Please continue, Mr. Ogden.”
“I know your adoptions were closed. However, as adults you can request information about your birth parents from the Central Adoption Registry.”
“I didn’t know that. Did you, Petra?”
“Nope.”
“I have important information, but each of you must sign a permission form before I’ll share it with you. Interested?” Ogden’s eyebrows rose.
Despite the cool room, adrenalin-heated blood coursed through Roxanne’s body. She placed a hand on her chest where she was sure a giant fist squeezed her heart. Did she want to know who her birth parents were? Or learn about her grandfather—apparently a wealthy person?
Petra examined her long, painted fingernails and said, “I am interested. Give me the form to sign.”
Before answering the lawyer, Roxanne would love to discuss the matter with her parents who worked at a medical mission in Zimbabwe. Not because she needed their permission, but because she wanted them to be aware before she took this drastic step. Making on-the-spot decisions had never been a problem for her, especially in her career as a nurse practitioner. “Okay, I’ll sign the form, too.”
Ogden handed out two clipboards, each holding a sheet of paper and a pen. “Read the declaration thoroughly and then sign and date, please.”
It didn’t take long to do as requested and they returned the forms to him.
“Thank you. I’ll sign as the witness and then have copies made for you.” He turned to the inner door and called, “Mrs. Edwards.”
A couple of seconds later, she entered the office. Ogden handed her the clipboards. “Copies, please.”
He set his elbows on the desk and tented his fingers. “Your grandfather is Howard Palmer. Have either of you heard of him?”
The name did flash in Roxanne’s memory for a second. “Um, didn’t he recently sell his cattle ranch?”
“Correct. He now lives north of San Antonio and because of health issues, wants to locate his grandchild.” Ogden held up his hand when Roxanne opened her mouth. He continued, “Mr. Palmer had two children. His daughter died in childbirth thirty-some years ago and Benton, his reprobate son, died in 2014. He led an erratic life. He was an addict, an alcoholic, and a womanizer. My father was Howard’s attorney for a long time, and when he retired, I took over the responsibility. We were fully aware of the ins and outs of the Palmer family. Benton had two children we know about.” Ogden glanced at Petra and Roxanne in turn. “Here comes the glitch. We recently discovered Benton married one of the women who produced a child; therefore, her offspring is the legitimate heir.”
The lawyer’s revelation hung in the air like gray smog. Roxanne’s father could be Benton Palmer. Absorbing the significant information Ogden shared, she massaged her left temple. “One of us is legitimate and the other isn’t? I didn’t think people cared about that these days.”
“Howard does.”
At that crucial moment, Mrs. Edwards entered, handed Ogden the copies, and then left the office.
Petra curled her lip as she looked at Roxanne. “Let me see if I have this straight. She is my half-sister, and either her mother or my mother was married to Benton. But according to your earlier statement, you and Howard don’t know which one.”
“Correct.”
“How do you expect us to find out?” Roxanne’s covered eye itched. She resisted the urge to remove the patch and rub it—a big no-no.
Ogden smiled briefly and folded his arms. He seemed to enjoy prolonging the suspense.
“I have a doctor’s appointment soon,” Petra said. “Please, tell us what we need to do.”
The lawyer set two more pieces of paper along with their copies of the signed forms on the edge of his desk. “Take these, and I’ll explain. You’ll notice Howard’s address and an appointment time for tomorrow. Both of you need to be there. He will give you more information at the meeting.”
Roxanne stared at the paper. The words blurred together. She hadn’t mastered reading with only one eye yet. Blinking removed the moisture that had gathered in her eye. When her friend Lucas had picked her up that morning, she had no idea she had a grandfather. That she’d meet him. “Do you have any more information for us?”
“I certainly do.”
“Good because there are too many holes in your story. My parents told me my adoption was private and closed. I assume Petra’s was, too.”
She nodded. “Then how did you find us? How do you know we are Benton’s kids?”
“My father arranged the adoptions and kept copies of the paperwork.”
“Something doesn’t ring true.” Roxanne frowned. “When did Benton marry? Which one of us was born after that date?”
“And as the mother of the baby, the name of Benton’s wife would have been included in the paperwork.” Petra’s turn to fold her arms. “Ask your father.”
Ogden sighed. “I wish I could. He passed away last year.” Ogden leaned back in his chair and rocked. “As far as I know, my father only kept the names of the people who adopted you. Benton and his wife had a common-law marriage, and in Texas, they did not have to register with the state. When he was sober, he was a charming man, but when under the influence, he became violent and unpredictable.” The lawyer blew out a breath. “I know I’m talking about your father, but most of the time, he wasn’t a pleasant man. At least he waited until his children were born before he paid off their mothers.”
“Even the woman he married?” Roxanne asked.
“Yes. I guess they’d been exposed to his real personality and decided they were well rid of him.” He cleared his throat. “My father found families who wanted to adopt and he took care of the legalities. He took the babies from Benton soon after they were born. Although Dad met the mothers when they signed away their parental rights witnessed by social workers, he didn’t make any notes about their appearances.”
The profuse amount of information delivered by the lawyer filled Roxanne’s brain to capacity. She was ready to storm out of the office before her brain exploded, but she had a couple more questions. “Did Howard meet either woman? How do you know Benton married one of them?”
“Howard did not meet them. When I was helping my father clear out his office, we came across an old file that contained a draft of Benton’s will. He named his wife as his sole beneficiary, but in the space for her name, he’d written initials—EAB. Dad recalled Benton telling him he’d supply her name if the marriage lasted.” Ogden shrugged. “That gives you a little insight into Benton’s personality.”
“Wait, wait. You’ve known the initials of the woman we’re looking for all this time and you’re just now telling us?” Petra leaned forward as if she was about to confront Ogden physically.
“It was on my list of details to provide you.”
“Obviously, the marriage didn’t last,” Roxanne said.
“Right. He never did tell Dad her full name. A few years after the adoptions, my father wanted to complete Benton’s will and called him. Benton said he’d visit the office when he returned from California and added Dad could remove the statement about his wife. They were going to file for divorce but she left the country after giving up her baby. He said nothing about the other woman.”
Petra picked up her purse which she’d set on the floor. “I need to leave but I have one last question. If we locate a woman who has those initials but she’s deceased, how do we prove she was married to Benton?”
The lawyer stood, stepped around his desk, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m pretty sure she was alive three years ago.” He sat on the corner of the desk and swallowed. He ran his fingers under his collar. “One afternoon, my father received a call from a woman who professed to be Benton’s wife. He said she didn’t know Benton was dead, and then she asked after her baby. Of course, Dad didn’t divulge any details.”
“Where did she call from? Did you trace the call?” The more Roxanne heard, the more she was sure Ogden deliberately dished out important details one morsel at a time.
“We did. She was in Leeds. That’s all we got.”
Roxanne’s heart beat so hard she was sure the other people in the office could hear it. She rubbed her jaw to ease the tightness as her anger and frustration simmered. “If this woman was legit, she was alive three years ago.”
“In England. Was she British?” Petra asked.
“I don’t know and Dad didn’t elaborate.”
Petra rose and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “Unless Mr. Palmer provides more details to help us find this person, I don’t see how we can. I’ve had enough. Goodbye.”
“Same here.” Roxanne grabbed her crossbody satchel and left the office with her half-sister who climbed into a sleek silver sedan and drove away. Seated outside the building on a bench in the shade, Roxanne slipped on her sunglasses. The smell of freshly mown grass represented a note of normality. She delayed calling Lucas so she could process everything Ogden had shared. Her birth father was Benton Palmer. Her birth mother might have left the country. Her grandfather was wealthy, and she’d meet him the next day.
Such a barrage of information. She prided herself on being independent, able to take care of herself, and seldom needed to ask for advice. However, she had to contact her folks. A phone call was impractical as they had to drive forty miles over rugged dirt roads to the nearest phone. She’d have to email them and hope they had a reliable Wi-Fi connection.
The results of the meeting with Howard Palmer scheduled for the next day would determine her future actions. Identifying her birth mother would be no easy task, maybe even impossible. Should she even try?
Leaning back, she drew in a deep breath. It would take more than a few minutes to analyze the data received. She called Lucas and told him she was ready. Unable to drive for a couple of weeks was more inconvenient than the surgery. Avery, her best friend, was supposed to be her temporary chauffeur, but she had to go out of town and left the day before the surgery. Lucas, Avery’s twin brother, volunteered to take her place. All of Roxanne’s siblings were unavailable, too. Her estranged sister, Dana, lived in Nevada, two of her brothers, Ramon and Neil, were doing their residency, one in Illinois and the other in Colorado, and Adam, the eldest, worked on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.
So far, Lucas had been a conscientious substitute driver. However, whenever Roxanne spent time with him, she was reminded of their tumultuous relationship that ended two years ago. She thought she’d erased him from her heart, but his broad shoulders, lop-sided smile, and the warmest shade of brown eyes she’d ever seen still had the power to weaken her knees.

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