by Vera Quinn
“It is.” Stephanie followed the realtor to the sitting room. Glancing around, Stephanie noted most of the committee had arrived.
Wanda sat in a small plush armchair, her walker within reach. She seemed frail despite her smile. She wore a pink short-sleeved blouse, exposing several gauze pads taped to her arms.
Stephanie nodded to the other women and Walter Mellon. She found a seat on a mauve camelback sofa. Nan came in with a pitcher of lemonade and began pouring them all a glass. Sandy helped pass them out.
“Thank y’all for coming here,” Wanda said, sweeping her arm in a grand gesture.
“No problem,” Sandy said. “We’re just glad you’re up to it.”
“Yes,” Walter said.
“So, what about the owner of 155 Main Street?” Wanda asked, glancing down at a paper. “Are they in compliance of the historical district yet?”
Walter cleared his throat. “I spoke with the owner. They plan to get quotes on the restoration.”
“Good,” Wanda said.
As the meeting continued, Stephanie watched Wanda. Her shoulders drooped and the older woman hid a few yawns.
Stephanie met Nan’s gaze. She shook her head and pursed her lips. Nan and Wanda had been friends most of their adult life, both never married or had children. Stephanie had heard some of their adventures of traveling together.
After the meeting ended, Stephanie helped Nan take the glasses to the kitchen. Nan washed the pitcher.
“Wanda would like to speak with you if you can spare the time,” Nan said as she dried the pitcher.
“Sure, if you think she’s up to it,” Stephanie replied. “I don’t want to wear her out.”
Nan sighed and faced Stephanie. “I’m worried about her. Her energy isn’t what it used to be. She naps all the time. I’m glad she has this group and so many friends who visit. It keeps her mind occupied.”
“So, should I leave then?”
“Heavens no, child.” Nan chuckled; her eyes crinkled into half-moons. “You march up there and talk to her or else I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Stephanie nodded. “I’ll save you.”
“Shoo. Better go or Wanda will come find you,” Nan said, waving the dishtowel.
Once Stephanie had reached the door, Nan called, “I like her idea. I hope you will too.”
Curiosity had Stephanie dashing up the stairs. Breathing deeply, she calmed her racing heart. Another mystery in the Cummings’ Estate house.
Wanda glanced up with inviting blue eyes. “Thanks for coming, Stephanie. I know you probably have plans.”
“You’re my date tonight, Ms. Hickey,” Stephanie said, taking the vacant seat next to Wanda.
“That’s surprising for a pretty young lady.” Wanda patted Stephanie’s arm. “I have a question for you. Is it true you’re looking for a place to live?”
Stephanie nodded. “Yes. My landlord sold the building and I have to move out by the end of the month.”
“I have a proposition for you…” Wanda stood with the support of her walker. “Come over to the window, dear. See the garage? It has an apartment. Would you like to live on the Cummings’ Estate?”
Stephanie stared at the four-car garage with the full second story. The property was further from town and the bank, but the countryside was beautiful. She squelched her excitement to ask, “How much is the rent?”
“The first month is free, but I’m sure it won’t be more than you’re paying now. It’s been empty for years and it needs the cleaning of the century.” Wanda tapped the window glass. “It will be nice to have a neighbor. I’d love to chitchat more about the town. Nan’s circle is limited.” She tittered, then began coughing.
Nan rushed in with a worried expression. “Come rest.” She pointed to Wanda’s chair.
Wanda nodded and eased over and relaxed down with a sigh. She sipped water from the cup Nan handed her.
“Well?” Nan asked Stephanie.
“It’s a generous offer. Thank you. I’ll take it.” Stephanie moved to the window and inspected the building again.
Nan and Wanda glanced at each other with wide grins. “Why don’t you go visit the apartment and see if you like it.” Nan handed Wanda her large beige purse from the table. Wanda rummaged around plucking out a keyring. She selected a key with green glittery nail polish painted on it and dangled it. “Here’s the key.”
With a gleaming smile and key in hand, Stephanie went to explore her new home.
Chapter Four
Sawyer stood, finger poised over the doorbell, and inhaled. It wasn’t like he’d never heard a will read before. It had been four years since his father, Seymour, had passed. He glanced over his shoulder at the unkempt yard. The birds tried to bathe in what little water remained in the fountain.
Since Sawyer’s mother ran off with another man, it had been his dad, aunt, and him on the Cummings’ Estate. Then his dad passed. Sawyer had used his inheritance to party his grief and loneliness away. Money couldn’t buy love or happiness. It took a steady, hard job to mature him. Sawyer scrubbed his face; perhaps he should have never left.
Since the lawyer had delivered the news, Sawyer had noticed the townsfolk slyly glancing at him, then murmuring with heads together. He speculated the seriousness of his aunt’s condition had circulated.
He surveyed the large double door once more. With faded and peeling paint, the home was past its prime, just like its resident.
Nan answered the door. “What are you doing ringing the bell?” She put her hands on her hips and frowned.
“I, uh—” Sawyer said, rubbing his head.
“I’m just playing with you. Come in, honey. She’ll be glad to see you.” Nan opened the door and embraced him.
“Is she feeling up to this?” Sawyer asked, trying to mask his worried tone.
“She’s tired but expecting you. She’d be disappointed if she didn’t see you.”
Sawyer nodded, then took the steps two at a time to the top. He hurried to his aunt’s suite. Her door was open. The curtains were drawn, casting strange shadows. She reclined in a lounge chair, a scarf around her head, her eyes closed and a blanket over her lap. Sawyer held his breath observing her pale face. The blanket moved as she stirred. Her lids flickered open and she smiled.
“There’s my favorite nephew.” Wanda lifted a hand. He took it and squeezed gently.
“I’m your only nephew. I’ve missed you, Auntie.” He stooped and kissed her soft cheek.
She motioned to the armchair beside her.
“How’s the ranch?” Wanda asked without giving him a chance to inquire about her health. He jumped into a story about Gimme Malone’s dirty dancing routine.
Warren Teed knocked on the doorjamb. “Nan has instructed me to keep our meeting short.” He set his briefcase on a small coffee table and sat on the sofa. He opened it and shuffled some folders around.
“Oh, fiddlesticks. Nan is not my nursemaid,” Wanda said, waving her hand.
“No, but she is a good friend,” Warren said. “Only good friends get to boss your guests around.”
Wanda chuckled, then nodded. “Nan has been a trouper. I hope one day I can repay the favor…” She glanced toward the window and frowned. Wanda pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “About my will…”
Sawyer inhaled sharply. Staring at his hands, he didn’t grasp Warren’s reply. “What did you say?”
Warren blinked and glanced at Wanda before repeating, “We are waiting on another party before we start.”
“Someone else is coming to the will reading?” Sawyer asked.
A brunette slid into the room, her hair cascading over her face. “Sorry, I’m late. Nan handed me the mail and—”
“Do you still have two ears? That woman can talk your ear off,” Wanda chuckled.
The woman brushed her hair away from her face.
Sawyer stood. “Stephanie.” She met his gaze, a slight blush fanning her cheeks as she nodded. He waited until she took a seat
beside Warren before he returned to his chair.
“Now that we are all here, we can start.” Warren nodded to Wanda.
Wanda took a sip of water. “I want to say thank you for coming. Sawyer, I know that ranch you work at has you slaving away at all hours so I appreciate your time.”
“Of course, Auntie.” He took her hand again.
Warren cleared his throat and began reading. It was the usual legal speak reminding him of Seymour’s estate, including finances. Sawyer had no knowledge of his aunt’s net worth, but honestly, he didn’t need her money. His father’s estate was adequate to sustain him.
“This list of items will belong to Mr. Sawyer Hickey if he follows these two stipulations.”
Sawyer nervously stared at his boots. Wanda squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry.”
Warren looked over his reading glasses. “One—Mr. Hickey must marry in order to receive the Cummings’ manor house and the acreage surrounding it. Two—Miss Malone will be allowed to live on the premises until Sawyer marries or she decides to move out.”
Sawyer glanced up and met Stephanie’s gaze. “What the hell?” he mouthed. Stephanie shrugged, blushing again.
Nan came in carrying a glass and pill case. “Time for your medicine and a rest.”
Wanda yawned, then tried to stand. The fuzzy peach blanket fell to her stocking feet and she swiveled off balance, stooping for it. Sawyer caught her elbow and helped her into the bedroom. Stephanie brought the blanket and laid it on the foot of the bed.
“Good night, Aunt Wanda,” Sawyer said, then kissed her cheek.
Nan waved them out of the room. “Goodnight, y’all.”
Warren handed them each a packet, then closed his briefcase. “My card is stapled to the top. Call if you have any questions or when you get engaged.” Warren winked as Sawyer threw his hands into the air.
“Married! I can’t believe her,” Sawyer groused. “It can’t be legal.”
“It isn’t,” Stephanie hissed. She put a finger over her mouth and motioned to the hallway.
Sawyer followed her as she continued down to the kitchen. “Your aunt only wants what’s best for you,” Stephanie said, hugging herself.
“What’s best for me?” Sawyer slammed a fist on the table. “I don’t think so.”
Stephanie’s sad eyes turned hard. She jumped in front of him, poking him in the chest. “You listen to me, Mr. Hickey. Your aunt is dying, and she doesn’t want you to be alone. Can you think about someone other than yourself for once?”
Words left him. He rubbed his face. The sweet smell of coconut caught his attention and calmed him. “You’re right.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened. “I am?”
He touched her face. She stepped back, bumping into the island.
Sawyer sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He turned around and glanced out the window. “I just found out about the cancer and now this—stipulation.” He shook his head.
“It’s fine.” She touched his arm. “It must be a shock.”
“Would you care to go to Hammered? I need a beer and to talk this thing out,” Sawyer said, throwing her a hopeful side-glance.
Stephanie had her bottom lip between her teeth. She sighed and finally mumbled, “I don’t know.”
“I’d really like to hear how the interesting caveat of Miss Malone living at the Cummings’ house came about.” Sawyer crossed his arms.
Stephanie blanched and sighed again. “Fine.”
Chapter Five
Stephanie entered Hammered and scanned the tavern for Sawyer. From a booth, he raised a hand. She nodded, then glanced around the room. The long wood bar was filled with patrons, most she knew.
Her brother, Gimme, played pool with the Double D Ranch owner, Josiah Barnes. She tilted her head, letting her hair hide her face. Gimme had a problem with his mouth; he didn’t know when to shut it. The last thing she needed was Gimme to blast his lone speculations to the restaurant.
In a tight skirt and low-cut top, Mona Little eagerly complimented the men who played pool. Mona worked under Stephanie at the bank as a teller. The sassy girl had a curvy figure men seemed to respond to, not to mention she offered kisses for the winners of the pool games. And Sawyer was particularly good at pool.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer asked as Stephanie slid into the booth.
“Well, I might have thought of a way out of the marriage thing.” Stephanie watched as Mona recognized her and Sawyer.
“What? That was fast.” Sawyer grinned and relaxed back. “Are you this fast when it comes to making loans?”
Stephanie laughed. “Most of the time, yes.”
“Wow.” His gaze roamed her faced. The room heated.
They ordered and once Sawyer fingered the neck of his green bottle he said, “So, about your living situation…”
Stephanie glanced toward her brother. “I moved into the house a week ago.”
“Go on,” he said, leaning over the table studying her.
“I’m part of the Fortuna Historical Society. We are responsible for the historical district and staffing the museum—”
“I know,” Sawyer said, waving his hand. “My aunt loves that group.”
“Yes. That’s how it happened.”
“How what happened?” Sawyer’s eyes narrowed.
“My living arrangement,” Stephanie said. She took a sip of beer. “Wanda held a meeting in her suite and afterwards she asked me if I wanted to live in the apartment over the garage.” She shrugged.
Sawyer tilted his head, then nodded. “I suppose Nan agreed it was a good idea to have someone on the premises with my aunt being sick.”
“Wanda knows I love the house and want to get it declared a state treasure,” Stephanie said.
“Treasure.” Sawyer rolled his eyes.
Stephanie smirked. “Not that treasure. A real one. It’s a historical landmark. One of the original Fortuna buildings.”
“Hey, Hickey, you up for a game?” Josiah said as he passed with a pitcher of beer and a couple of empty mugs.
“Nah. Another time,” Sawyer said.
“It’s better that way. I’m on a roll and would kick your butt.” Josiah laughed at Sawyer’s sour expression.
“If you’d like to play, don’t let me stop you.” Stephanie signaled Pixie Dix to bring another round.
Sawyer finished his bottle. “I’m good.”
Mona turned her back to their table and Stephanie leaned forward. “You know, maybe you should play a game to get Mona in your good graces. It looks as if she’s not happy you’re not playing.”
Sawyer frowned and crossed his arms. “Listen, I’m not dating her. I’ve tried to distance myself from her and her…” his lips puckered as if he tasted a lemon, “clinginess.”
“Clinginess? I thought you liked the attention. I’ve seen you two, the entire town has seen you two after you win a game.”
Sawyer cringed, then shrugged. “I used to like the attention. But she doesn’t do a thing for me. We’ve never hooked up.”
“That’s not what Gimme says,” Stephanie said.
Sawyer’s brows dipped as he turned red. “What did Gimme say?”
“What doesn’t Gimme say? Gimme says a lot of crap but it goes in one ear and out the other,” Stephanie said, glancing at her brother who high-fived Mona.
“You too, huh?” Sawyer watched the pool players.
Stephanie snorted and covered her face as she giggled. Sawyer caught her laughter. She wiped her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.
Pixie delivered their beers. Stephanie lifted the bottle to her lips and almost choked when she caught Sawyer’s sultry expression watching her mouth. She set the bottle on the table.
“About the will… I have an idea about the illegal part,” Stephanie said.
“I’m listening,” Sawyer replied, folding his hands around the beer.
“Just appease Wanda. Get engaged. That will make Wanda happy and you can end it after Wanda…you know.” Stephanie g
lanced into her lap.
“A pretend fiancée, huh?” Sawyer rubbed his chin. He stared off a few moments before focusing on Stephanie once more.
“She can’t make you get married, but if she thinks you’re engaged, then maybe she’ll be at peace. And the will won’t be held in probate” Stephanie hurried on, “I know it’s a crazy idea, but Wanda is wonderful. She just wants what’s best for you. She gushes about you all the time.” Stephanie felt her cheeks heat and looked away.
“I’d have to pick someone who’d be willing to go along with the ruse,” he said. “Wanda is smart. It can’t be just any girl.”
“You’d have to make it believable,” Stephanie acknowledged.
“We’d announce the engagement and visit Wanda with the news,” he said, knitting his brows. “But she wouldn’t necessarily believe I’d found someone so soon.”
“Can you move back to the Cummings’ house?” Stephanie asked. “Then your aunt would see you interacting more often.”
“You want me to live with you?” Sawyer cracked a grin. “I suppose. I’ve already talked to my boss. He knows I’ll be cutting my hours to help my aunt. It might be better if I quit. The house could use a little TLC.”
Stephanie smiled and nodded, happy for Wanda.
“Now to select my fiancée?” Sawyer glanced around the building.
“How about Mona? She likes you,” Stephanie said, surprised and elated by Sawyer’s grimace.
“How about one of the Hopkins’ girls?” she suggested.
Sawyer shook his head and frowned. “Too young.”
Stephanie sighed, trying to think of single women who could pull off the ruse while being kind to Wanda.
“It should be someone my aunt knows I have chemistry with.”
“That would be helpful,” Stephanie agreed.
“What size ring do you wear?” Sawyer asked then took a drink.
“What? Why?” Stephanie gasped. “Oh no, no, no.”
“Why not?” Sawyer pressed back against the booth, studying her face.
Words failed her, and she shook her head.
Sawyer slapped his palms on the table. “We’ve got history. She caught us—”
