Hidden Hills

by Jannette Spann

  Her heart swelled. It was as if they understood the importance of this night. “You kids did a good job. I’m proud of you.”

  “Don’t tell Dad. He’ll expect us to do it all the time.” Bruce’s aversion to housework was public knowledge. She hooked her arm around his neck and ruffled his hair with her knuckles. “You’d better watch it, or I’ll tell him you cleaned it all by yourself.”

  Becky smacked her gum. “Can we go home and play now?”

  “Go ahead, but come back when Jake gets here.”

  Charlotte paused from picking up gum wrappers when a tall, slim blonde, dressed in jeans and a red tee-shirt, appeared at the door. She held it open and counted heads as the kids filed out. “Where’s everybody going?”

  “Next door,” Bruce replied. “So our house won’t get dirty.”

  The woman stuck her head in the kitchen. “Not bad — it’s the first time I’ve ever seen it clean.”

  “Me too,” Charlotte agreed, wondering where the stranger had come from.

  “Reminds me of when Betty was alive,” the woman continued, closing the door. “But even then, there were toys everywhere.”

  She couldn’t possibly be the “dumb as dirt” Loretta. She seemed too intelligent.

  “I’m Shelby Watts and you must be Charlotte.” The woman’s warm manner put her at ease. “Jake told me the boys would either be here or at your house, so I came on over. He and Ralph have gone to the Pizza Plate to get supper.”

  Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. If Ralph was as down to earth as his wife, then the partnership could actually work. It had been a long time since she’d felt so excited about her finances.

  ****

  “This spreadsheet — when did you say you worked it up?” It was the first time Ralph had glanced up from the computer since he’d put in the disk. She’d kept the plans for sentimental reasons, like old family portraits of her dead relatives, never dreaming they might someday be used.

  “Seven years ago.” She tried to hide her nervousness. “We’ll have to make adjustments for inflation, but the basic plan should work.”

  His focus remained on the spreadsheet. After several minutes of serious concentration, he squared his shoulders. “I’m impressed. You’re not only beautiful — you’ve got a good business head on your shoulders.”

  Shelby’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing.”

  Charlotte’s face glowed. Married men had made passes at her since she was in her teens, but never in front of their wives. This partnership didn’t stand a chance.

  “What?” Ralph said. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

  “We know,” Shelby replied. “But look at her face. You’re embarrassing her.”

  Charlotte saw the quick exchange of a nod between the men and realized Ralph’s intentions were to make her blush. He’d succeeded.

  Shelby waved the men aside. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

  “You’re not much older than our girls.” Ralph laughed, putting her at ease. “So don’t get upset if I treat you like a kid sometimes.”

  Charlotte glanced at Jake, but he wasn’t paying attention. Ralph Watts moved with an air of authority, and she’d felt slightly intimidated by his quiet confidence from the moment he’d walked in. Like his wife, he had an unusual way of breaking the ice.

  “Now,” he continued, concentrating once more on the computer screen. “Tell me why you budgeted so much for linens.”

  Feeling more comfortable, Charlotte slid her chair closer to the handsome, middle-aged man. “This was to be a topnotch bed and breakfast. Guests would’ve expected their sheets to be changed daily, and since all linens were to have the Hidden Hills logo embroidered in a corner, we had to allow for stealing. I thought it would be necessary to keep a large supply. You’ll also notice the extra china and silverware.”

  Ralph frowned. “What kind of clientele were you expecting — the county inmates?”

  “Income level has nothing to do with taking souvenirs. Some of your nicest guests will pick up a small item and think nothing of it. We’d planned for ladies’ groups, retirees, and people just wanting to get away for a quiet weekend.”

  “Then we shouldn’t embroider anything.”

  Charlotte refused to give in on that point. “A lot of people consider it advertising, instead of stealing. I’m a pretty good seamstress, so if we invest in a smart sewing machine, then I’ll do the monograming myself and save hiring it done.”

  ”Mmm.” Ralph conceded. “We do need the advertising.”

  Their discussions ranged from liability insurance to toilet paper and everything in between before the evening was over. Even the kids took turns in voicing their ideas and opinions at the supper table.

  After saying goodnight to Ralph and Shelby, Jake cradled her back against his broad chest. His arms rested comfortably around her shoulders, and she reached up to kiss his cheek.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She sighed. “For finding the right people. Shelby’s nice, and talking to Ralph is like being with my dad.”

  “Ralph’s not old.”

  “He’s mature and settled — just like my dad,” she said, feeling Jake’s lips against her hair.

  “His saying you’re beautiful had nothing to do with it?” he said. “For the record, I think you’re beautiful, too.”

  “You do?” she said, turning in his arms, to hold him closer. “But you’ve never said anything.”

  He frowned. “Why would I need to say anything? You’ve got a mirror.”

  Her head dropped against his chest. Jake was clueless at romance. Had he asked her to marry him? She wasn’t sure anymore.

  “Tell me something.” The curious tone of his voice got her attention. “If Ralph is right, and you’ve got a head for business — which I’m assuming you do since the seven-year-old spread sheet is yours — what’s with the dumb decisions about Hidden Hills?”

  Charlotte eased out his arms, returning to the table where Ralph had left some notes of the updates needing to be checked. Jake had been quiet during the evening, only commenting after he’d been asked a direct question. Now she knew why.

  “Seven years ago my life seemed safe — or so I’d thought. Mitch had a good job with a steady income, and we were financially secure. I loved being a stay-at-home mom after Becky was born — but I got lonely. Then one day, Mitch suggested I spend some time with his grandpa, so I did.”

  “Go on,” he said.

  Memories of the old man made her smile. “Charles Wills was quite a character, telling me things about the family even Mitch didn’t know. Things like, one of his great-uncles being a sheriff in Texas at the turn of the century, and the guy’s wife, the town dentist — stuff like you’d only read in books.”

  “Anyway,” she continued, “spending our days at Hidden Hills was good for me. Grandpa believed in staying busy. The worksheet I did was for him, not me. His changes to the house were finished, and he needed another business venture. We spent most of the winter planning menus and listing everything we could possibly need to run the house. The problem was he’d borrowed more money than he’d realized, so our plans had to be put on hold. He started having health problems shortly afterward and lost interest.”

  “It sounds like you loved the old man.”

  “He was the grandpa I’d never had.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The following week kept Charlotte busier than usual, since she had to revise the figures on her original spreadsheet. She’d either underestimated the cost of things, or prices had soared in seven years. Having finished the changes Ralph had requested, she found time to relax at her kitchen table and enjoy a fresh cup of coffee. It wasn’t unpaid bills occupying her thoughts today, but the conversation she’d had with Shelby about refurnishing Hidden Hills.

  Three years ago, when she and Mitch had moved in, the house had been entirely stocked with beautiful antiques. Instead of taking a chan
ce on the children ruining anything, she had moved the downstairs furnishings up to the second floor into rooms they never used. She’d felt more at home living with their own furniture.

  “Why so serious?”

  “Just thinking about all I need to do.” She watched Jake drain the pot and sit it in the sink. It was the first time he’d been over all week, and she’d missed him.

  He sauntered over to her side. “Ralph and I have been working on plans for adding the second waterline you were talking about. We’ll save money by laying the pipe ourselves, so we’re renting a trencher for the weekend.”

  “I thought he was drawing up the contracts.”

  He nodded. “Our Ralph is a man of many talents.”

  “Would one of those talents be using a trencher?”

  “No, that’s my talent. I intend for him to use the shovel.”

  Charlotte stood up, meaning to take a sip of his coffee, but noticed the cup was almost empty. “While you men are doing the grunt work, my girls and I will be shopping with Shelby — want more coffee?”

  “No, this is plenty.”

  She moved into the circle of his arms. His inviting blue eyes weren’t to be ignored, but neither was Maggie’s persistent tugging at her shirt hem.

  “Mama, there’s a cowboy at the door!”

  Maggie’s comment reminded her of the phone call she’d received earlier at work. Some guy with a Texas drawl saying something about mineral rights and e-mails, but she’d been too busy to talk. Leaving Jake to follow, Charlotte entered the living room and saw Maggie standing with her hands propped on her hips, talking through the screen door to a slim middle aged man.

  “Mrs. McGregor?” There was a brief moment when she swore his handlebar mustache winked at her, but it was a quirk in his jaw. She put a hand over Maggie’s mouth, in fear of what she might say.

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  “I’m Dennis Waters, of Samuel Jones and Associates,” he replied. “We spoke earlier.”

  “Come in, please.” Charlotte welcomed the stranger into her home. She wouldn’t have let him in at Hidden Hills, but with six other people in the house, how could she not feel safe?

  When Jake and the lanky Texan in cowboy boots struck up a conversation like old friends, she decided it had to be a man-thing. At any rate, it gave her a chance to empty the room of curious kids.

  She sat on the couch beside Jake, and watched as the man removed a stack of papers from an old briefcase. His weather-worn face and steady, gray eyes would have made her nervous had she been alone.

  “Like I tried to explain on the phone, e-mails are fine, but I’m old fashioned. I like doing business face to face.”

  She frowned. “What are we talking about?”

  “Our phone call.”

  “I don’t know anything about e-mails…”

  He shuffled through the remaining pages in the case before finding the two he was looking for. “Isn’t this your husband’s e-mail address?”

  Her blood boiled when she read the date, August 19, the day she’d told her in-laws she was looking for a smaller house. “I didn’t send this.”

  “Of course not,” Mr. Waters assured her. “It was sent by your father-in-law. I believe it’s the one where he explains you were touring the Greek Islands at the time. He goes on to say, although he had your power of attorney, it would be better if we waited until December when you’d be back in the states, so you could handle your own affairs.”

  Charlotte felt the pressure of Jake’s hand on hers, taking it as a warning to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t know this man, and she trusted Jake’s instincts when it came to reading people. After all, he’d pegged Mitch’s parents fast enough. “What brings you back so soon?”

  His mustache wiggled. “Antsy investors. I signed the last of the other landowners yesterday afternoon. Then I swung by the courthouse to see Judge McGregor again about signing for you, but I missed him. The judge’s secretary told me I’d find you at Milner’s today. I hope my calling hasn’t caused any problems.”

  “No,” she assured him. “I’m glad you did. Now, what’s this about my mineral rights?”

  She listened as he explained from the beginning about his company, the investors, her mineral rights, and the fact her back forty had been designated as one of the most likely drill sites in the area. Since all of Grandpa Will’s land was located in four different sections, if they were to hit gas or oil on any part of it, she would have more money than she’d had in her entire life. The new onslaught of information was overwhelming.

  Charlotte failed miserably at hiding the tears of relief stinging her eyes as she watched the taillights of Mr. Waters’ rental car disappear from sight. “Do you realize how close I came to losing everything? I mean, if you hadn’t tried so hard to help me, and Mr. Waters had waited until December to get those papers signed — the judge would have got it all.”

  She felt the steadying warmth when his arm circled her shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you everything would work out?”

  “Like you knew?”

  Jake laughed. “There’s one thing I do know. The judge is going to croak when you let him know he’s lost.”

  “I’ve a good mind to go over there and punch the old goat’s lights out!” She could picture Tom McGregor’s arrogant face.

  “Let’s not be so hasty,” Jake said, ready to offer an alternative. “Doesn’t the judge have friends at the bank in Wills’ Junction?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But what’s it got to do with anything.”

  “How much do you have in your account there?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “About fifty cents. I made a payment on Hidden Hills last week.”

  The quiet rocked on for a moment. “Why not let him think he’s beaten you, say… until the day before your next payment is due? It should give your attorney time to study the contracts.”

  “I know now why your boys are such brats. You’re a good teacher.”

  His laughter was contagious. “Nonsense, it’s hereditary — comes from their mother.”

  ****

  The negotiations on the partnership went without a hitch. Charlotte knew she had Jake to thank. He’d picked the right people. Best of all, they’d agreed to keep things quiet until she’d confronted Tom McGregor.

  Charlotte debated on going to the judge’s office or to his house, finally deciding on the latter for one simple fact. If they had a yelling match, it would be in private. He’d waited thirty-five years for Charles Wills to die and leave the estate to Ellen, and another three had passed since then. She hated confrontations, but this one was unavoidable and it wouldn’t be pretty. Nervous fingers clutched the purse she carried, fearful the check might disappear if she relaxed her hold.

  The stark elegance of the McGregor house was worlds apart from anything she’d ever want to call home, but it suited their lifestyle. With her head held high, she followed Ellen through the wide entrance hall past hand-painted portraits of their ancestors — Wills’ men on the left, McGregors’ on the right.

  Charlotte had been in their home on numerous occasions with Mitch, but she’d never felt welcome. Ellen led her into the den, where the judge sat reading the daily news. He glanced up, then folded the paper, clearly unhappy with the intrusion.

  “I was planning to give you a call after dinner,” he said, laying the paper aside. “We ran into your agent today. It seems Wilson Realty has agreed to buy Hidden Hills. Now I know their price is well below what you’re asking, but it’ll just about cover the loan. The market’s soft in your price range, so I’m advising you to take it.”

  “No — I’m not losing everything Mitch and I put into the place.”

  His entire manner shifted before her eyes, becoming sharp and fierce, as if ready to attack. The intense hatred would have been daunting, had she not faced it before.

  “Don’t be crazy, girl. At least you’ll be out from under the mortgage. You had nothing when you married into this family, and you’ll ta
ke nothing out. I’ll see to it.”

  Charlotte held her tongue. She’d expected him to place an offer after the foreclosure, but there was a chance of someone else bidding higher. This was practically foolproof. No one would think twice if she sold to Wilson Realty, not even Mr. Grant, since it wasn’t public knowledge the judge owned it. His next step would be to put Hidden Hills in his name. “No thanks, I’ve decided to keep it.”

  “What’s this?” he said, taking the check from her outstretched hand and reading the amount.

  “It’s the money you gave Mitch before we bought the house.”

  His jaw snapped. “Where’s the interest?”

  She’d been in the family long enough to expect the unexpected. Her gaze remained steady in the face of his attack.

  “There is no interest,” she said, steeling her voice to remain calm. ”Just as there’s no proof it was a loan and not a gift.”

  “You owed the money!”

  “And I paid it!” she shot back, relieved she was no longer tied to Mitch’s family.

  The check shook in his hand. “So help me, if this bounces I’ll have you under the jail!” he threatened, as if she was a common criminal. “I know for a fact you don’t have this kind of money.”

  Her chin shot up. “Take another look at the bank’s name. You don’t have a snitch on their payroll, so you don’t know what I’ve got!”

  “You watch what you’re implying, girl!” he said, nostrils flaring. “You’ve not got Mitch to protect you.”

  “Neither do you, old man!”

  “I should—”

  “Does the name Samuel Jones and Associates mean anything to you?”

  At the mention of the Texas firm, Ellen joined her husband on the sofa. Charlotte knew it was a ploy to give the judge time to regroup. “I don’t recall…”

  “You should,” Charlotte informed him, still fed-up with all she’d learned. “I have copies of the e-mails you sent from Mitch’s computer. Thought you’d get your hands on Hidden Hills before they got around to leasing the mineral rights, didn’t you? You lied about me being out of the country and having my power of attorney — so they wouldn’t try to contact me.”