The Surrogate

She was homesick for a home that no longer was hers. For a grandmother who was dead and buried. For parents she barely remembered. The only family she had left was a sister who didn’t want her and two nieces she didn’t know. And without being able to tell anyone where she was or what she was doing, she was cut off from her friends. This dear, homely dog was all that stood between her and loneliness as vast as the treeless plain that surrounded this isolated place.

Chapter Eight

THE NEXT MORNING, Jamie awoke to a sunlit bedroom and her dog standing on the bed using all the body language at his disposal to tell her that it was time for his walk. She stretched and accepted Ralph’s urgent kisses. “Yes, I know,” she told him. “Give me just a minute to wake up.”

She closed her eyes, trying to recall a dream. A nice dream.

About her grandmother.

Yes, she had dreamed that Gra

Jamie smiled. In a very real sense, her grandmother would always be with her.

“You are a happy dog,” Jamie said, scratching behind Ralph’s ears. “My grandmother would have liked you.”

With the dog waiting impatiently, his tail thumping on the floor, Jamie pulled on her jeans and sneakers and, with Ralph following, headed down the back stairs. She could hear voices in the kitchen-animated female voices speaking in Spanish as the women went about their work.

She watched while Ralph carefully inspected the large backyard, which was completely enclosed by a six-foot-high wall and a precisely clipped boxwood hedge. The yard was beautifully landscaped and included a graceful gazebo, a rose garden, and an enormous live oak tree that shaded stone benches and a beautiful life-size statue of a kneeling Christ. At the rear of the yard, a padlocked wrought-iron gate led to the swimming pools and te

Shortly after she had eaten her breakfast, the cook arrived. A slight, unsmiling woman, Anita listened without expression as Jamie explained her food preferences. Midmorning, Miss Montgomery arrived to take her on the promised tour of the house and ranch. At first Jamie thought the woman was wearing the same outfit as yesterday but realized this was a different navy blue suit-less tailored and with looser sleeves.

Briefly, Miss Montgomery showed Jamie the kitchen and formally introduced her to the “in-house” staff. In addition to Anita, there were two younger women named Rosa and Dolores and an older woman named Teresa. The women each acknowledged the introduction with a glance and a nod in Jamie’s direction, then continued what they were doing. Miss Montgomery explained that the three women assisted Anita in the kitchen and did general housecleaning and the laundry. When the Hartma

Once they were back in the hallway, Jamie asked, “Why are they so unsociable?”

“They have been told to be courteous but to respect your privacy,” Miss Montgomery said. “Now, shall we continue? This door leads to the basement, where the laundry and storerooms are located-and where we maintain a significant food larder, which allows us to manage when the roads are impassible.”

“Does that happen often?” Jamie asked.

“We usually have two or three major snowstorms every winter, and every so often a road will wash out,” the housekeeper said as they entered the great hall.

In the light of day, the soaring room seemed more welcoming. The morning sun streaming through the magnificent stained-glass windows bathed the room in glorious light. Graceful palm and weeping fig trees in enormous pottery urns filled the corners of the room, and large Native American rugs were scattered about the stone floors. “Mary Millicent used a mixture of southwestern, Mexican, and European furnishings, art, and rugs to decorate the house, and Amanda has kept this part of the house much as it was when she and her brother were children,” Miss Montgomery explained.

Arched doorways opened into a dining hall and a library, each with a stone fireplace large enough to stand in and soaring windows with leaded panes. The dining room held a massive table large enough to seat a dozen or more. Two walls of the library were lined with books, and numerous handsomely framed portraits and photographs were displayed on the other walls. Standing in front of an imposing painting of Amanda and Gus Hartma

“Jason loved the ranch but came less and less often after he began his political career,” Miss Montgomery continued. “He served first in the Texas Legislature and was governor when he married Mary Millicent Tutt, who was already famous in her own right,” the housekeeper said, pointing to a picture of the handsome couple on their wedding day.

The next picture they viewed was a framed Life magazine cover from the early 1960s. The black-and-white photograph on the cover had been taken from offstage, capturing not only the woman occupying the center of the stage but a sizable portion of the audience, all of whom were standing, their hands in the air, their uplifted faces filled with rapture. The woman was wearing a white robe, her arms wide, her fingers outstretched, and her face-bathed in a circle of light-tilted heavenward. She fairly radiated energy and power, and every single person in that audience appeared to be under her spell. The words below the picture read: Televangelist Mary Millicent Tutt shepherding in a new breed of Christianity.

Jamie found the picture disturbing. It made her think of other pictures-ones with a uniformed dictator standing on a balcony and masses of people in the square below with their arms uplifted in salute.

“Oh, my,” Jamie said. “That’s quite a picture.”

“Yes,” Miss Montgomery agreed. “Mary Millicent Tutt was the first woman to have a nationwide radio ministry and the first woman to preach God’s word to a nationwide television audience.

“After their children were born,” Miss Montgomery continued, “Mary Millicent traveled less and devoted more of her time to writing. She and the children loved the ranch and came here often. After Jason’s death, she founded the Alliance of Christian Voters and began traveling again, but the children spent their summers and school vacations here with me,” she said with a wistful smile as she pointed to a photograph of two children in a pony cart with the ranch house in the background. “Those were good times,” she said, her gaze lingering on the photograph.

“Where does Amanda’s brother live now?” Jamie asked.