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SECRETS OF SHERIDAN

Chapter one...

She was standing in the doorway of the old abandoned farm-house about six miles north of Whites Creek. George had just taken the curve around which the old Sagebrook Estate became partially visible through the acres of oaks, whose leaves had already begun their autumn changes, and were bursting upon a chambray-blue sky, with various shades of yellow, orange, and red. George was curiously taken aback; not only by her presence in Sheridan, let alone on Sagebrook, but also by her disconcerting appearance. The girl was obviously Zana; although George had not seen her for more than ten years, it was just as obvious that something was terribly wrong.

As George began to circle what once was a garden filled with every kind of rose imaginable, he began asking himself why the hell he had promised Jeb that he'd keep an eye on things at Sagebrook. Jeb had been so insistent, and had instructed George to "make sure there aint no trash hangin' round or settin' up house keepin', 'spectin' to get free use of som'in' that don't belong to 'em." Jeb was a rich old coot with no formal education what-so-ever, but business-wise he knew how to make money: what he had, he earned; what he earned, he kept; and he wasn't inclined to share it with anyone - especially not his daughter.

Already resentful of the fact that Zana's homecoming would definitely put him slap-dab in the middle of a family war, George begin to question why Zana had returned. She knew Jeb didn't want her there - hell, everybody in Sheridan knew. Sheridan was a very small town; Jeb's great grandfather was one of its founders. Anybody who knew anybody knew everybody; and everbody knew that Jeb Sagebrook had disowned his daughter over ten years ago, and forbidden her to ever step foot on Sagebrook Estate again; she had never tried until now.

The last time George had seen Zana was right before she and Charles had left for California. She had been so full of hope and life at that time. It was a far cry from the shell of the person that was standing now before him. George had always loved Zana; it broke his heart to see her like this. The vacant look in her eyes was frightening. George, convinced that she was not aware that he had reached the porch, also doubted that Zana knew who he was. Her eyes deeply set, and once bright violet, were now dull; listless; and hollow. Her auburn hair was dirty and tangled; her face was pale. She seemed way too thin, and it was evident that she had recently

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