Your House or Mine?
Page 18
Fat chance! Meg went back through the house to the kitchen. As she washed the few breakfast dishes, she replayed Betty’s visit in her head. Wade could end this drama and own Ashford House with one signature? Since she still hadn’t found the deed, Meg felt her last hope of owning Ashford House slip away. But, then, she wondered. If Wade could so easily press his claim, why hadn’t he?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT HAD BEEN an interesting day starting with an early-morning car chase with a fifteen-year-old kid from Lake City who’d topped a hundred miles an hour on the highway. Wade joined the county sheriff’s department in trying to stop the kid before he killed himself or someone else. Road spikes had finally done the job with no injuries.
The afternoon had progressed to a report of petty theft. Wade got the call that a camper had been broken into at the Tree Spring Campground. He successfully closed the book on the case when he caught the homeless guy who’d taken a CD player and portable television from a northerner’s RV.
Now, as he pulled up the Ashford House drive, all Wade could think about was how nice it would be to sit on the front porch of the house that might someday be his. He was climbing the steps, his arms loaded with unusual purchases he’d made on the way home, when he was struck with the realization that the scenario in his mind would be even better if he were sitting there with Meg—the woman determined to snatch that porch out from under him.
He smiled at the irony of his thoughts as he walked through the house with the intention of finding her. Leaning his new equipment against a wall in the dining room, he went into the kitchen where he saw Meg. She was removing stacks of green dishes from a high cupboard. Her tempting bottom was covered in the scantiest amount of denim, and a tank top showed off her slender arms and the curve of a breast. Wade came up behind her, resisting the urge to put his hands on her hips and said, “Hey, you could use some help.”
She squealed, spun around and grabbed the edge of the counter to steady herself. “For heaven’s sake, Wade, you scared me half to death.”
Her top gaped open, revealing a generous amount of cleavage, and Wade’s throat went dry. “That wasn’t my intention,” he finally croaked. “I just came in for a glass of water.”
“Well, since you’re here, and since you offered…” She pointed to a stack of at least a dozen bowls. “You can put these in the box on the table.”
He did as she asked and she handed him a stack of cups which he also put in the box. “What are these?” he asked. “They look old.”
“They are old. They’re made by a company called Fire King and were distributed in boxes of detergent. My aunt collected them, probably fifty years ago.”
Wade stared at the mountains of green dishes he was going to have to cart to the table. “Amelia used a lot of detergent in those days.”
Meg laughed. “She’s always been very tidy.”
“How are you going to sell them?”
“Altogether to the highest bidder. We won’t have time to break up the set into smaller numbers. Besides they should bring a couple of hundred dollars as a group.”
She stretched her arms to get a load from the top shelf. The tank top strained until a slash of white skin at the base of her spine was revealed. Wade swallowed hard. “Why don’t you take a break?” he suggested. “Come out on the porch and have a drink with me.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Can’t. There’s too much to do. The auction’s this Saturday you know.”
He buried his disappointment behind carting more dishes. “Why haven’t you gotten the kids to help?” he asked.
“They did, for a while.”
Wade pulled another box from under the table and began filling it. “Where are they now?”
“Jenny’s at a friend’s house—the girl with the swimming pool. Spencer’s in his room playing video games.”
“And Pop?”
“I’m right here,” Roone said, coming into the kitchen. “And I’ve been turning people away from this house all day.”
Wade narrowed his eyes at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s a madhouse around here. Folks coming by wanting to see the merchandise before the sale.”
Wade thought of the break-in which occurred one week ago, and assumed his deputy persona. “People? What people?”
“Just curiosity seekers,” Meg said.
“Yeah. Curious about the money that’s supposedly hidden here,” Wade said.
“Maybe.” Since the cupboard was now empty, Meg climbed down off the chair. “Frankly, I don’t think there is any money.” She put her hands on her hips and stared at Wade. “Remember, I’ve been all over this house looking for…things. And I haven’t found so much as a quarter.”
He knew she was referring to her search for the deed. And she had looked thoroughly. If there were money hidden in Ashford House, she would have found it.
“You had a visitor this morning,” she said. “Betty from River Real Estate.”
Wade wasn’t surprised. Betty had left several messages for him at the office. “I’ll catch up with her later.”
“Wade, she said you haven’t signed some sort of agreement that would insure your purchase of Ashford House.”
At the refrigerator, Roone pointedly cleared his throat before pouring himself a glass of iced tea.
“Betty never should have told you that,” Wade said.
“Why haven’t you signed it?”
“I haven’t had time.” It was the excuse he used most often, so he used it again with Meg.
She didn’t believe it any more than Betty did. “You’re too busy to sign a document?”
“Today I am. I’ve got big plans.” Dodging the issue of the Right to Purchase Agreement, he went to the swinging door, stuck his hand inside the dining room and grasped the items he’d bought. Enjoying the surprised look on Meg’s face, he stood a pair of fishing poles against the pantry door and set a new tackle box beside them.
“You’re going fishing?” she asked.
“Yep. Me and Spencer.”
Meg’s eyes rounded with amusement. “Spencer told you he wants to fish?”
“No, but I bet I can get him to.”
Having carried his tea across the kitchen, Roone snickered from the back door. “You’re not gonna tell the boy that he has a chance to learn from an experienced angler, are you?”
“No, I’ll be honest,” Wade said. He’d just managed to squeeze in a half-hour fishing lesson from the guy who owned the Mount Esther Bait Shop. The basics didn’t seem all that difficult even for a guy who’d never baited a hook before. “Pop, I left a bucket of live shiners out on the front porch. Would you get it and take it out back?”
“Live shiners, eh?” Roone echoed. Wade knew his father, a native of New York City, too, had never fished either, and didn’t know a minnow from a marlin.
“I’ll get your shiners, son,” Roone said. “In fact, I’ll go on down to the river and wait for you. I wouldn’t miss this fishing expedition for the world.”
Meg was watching Wade intently, a sly smile curving her lips. “And I can’t wait to see how you get my son away from his video games and down to the river. I’m all for it, you understand. I just don’t think it can be done.”
A crazy dare popped into Wade’s mind and he blurted it out without thinking of the consequences. “I’ll challenge you to an even more interesting outcome, Miss Hamilton. I’ll bet I can get your son to the river in the next ten minutes, and you to the river later tonight, say just about dark.”
Her jaw dropped and just the softest little squawk came out of her mouth. “M…me?” she finally said.
“Yes, ma’am. If you want the answer to that question about Betty Lamb, that’s where I’ll be giving it.” He pushed on the door to go get Spencer. “And wear a bathing suit. We might just try swinging on a tire.”
He didn’t look back at her. His skin was scalding, and he knew if he looked at her she’d read his bluster in his face. Wade Murdo
ck wasn’t a flirt. And he was about as cool a guy as any old fogey passing his hours on a park bench—lately anyway. But here he was, flirting like a Hollywood hunk with Meg. And it was absolutely terrifying. She probably wouldn’t come. She probably shouldn’t come. He probably shouldn’t have asked her. But the door was open now, and he’d just have to wait to see if she came through it. And what he would do with her if she did.
AT FIRST WADE DIDN’T KNOW if Spencer agreed to come fishing because he was truly interested in the activity or because he was too polite to turn down the invitation. But after a few minutes of watching the kid plod along the pathway to the river, Wade had figured it out.
“You know, I saw that look on your face when we walked by your mom in the kitchen.”
Spence looked up, for the first time taking his eyes off the wild shrubs and twigs that might send out armies of insects, snakes, or other creatures to attack his sneakers. “What look?”
“The one like this was Tombstone and you were on your way to the gallows.”
“Huh?”
Wade came up with a more appropriate ten-year-old example. “Like you were at an all-girl party.”
“Oh. I’ve just never fished before.”
“And you think I have?”
Spencer stopped plodding, pushed his glasses up his nose, and stared at Wade. “Well, I hope you have. One of us better know what he’s doing.”
Wade shook his head. “Sorry. This is the blind leading the blind.”
“How about your father? You said he was going to meet us at the river. He must know how to fish.”
“Nope. No help there.”
The Suwannee came into view through a thick copse of oak and pine trees, and Wade announced, “Well, there she is, Spencer.”
With a blasé shrug, the boy acknowledged what was in front of them. “It’s a river.”
“Right, and it’s chock-full of fish just waiting for us to catch them.”
“If you say so.”
“Hey, look over there.” Wade pointed to a giant tree whose leafy branches were shading a sleeping Roone Murdock.
The kid half chuckled. “Looks like he’s not going to catch anything.”
“Unless that’s poison ivy he’s sitting in. I suggest we set our gear down right here so his snoring doesn’t chase away the fish.”
Spencer set down the rod he’d been assigned to carry. Wade put the other rod and the tackle box next to the bait bucket Roone had carried down. He stretched his arms over his head and then placed his fists on his hips. “Nice afternoon for fishing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“The guy at the bait house where I bought all this stuff rigged the rods for me.” He picked one up and examined it, showing the various parts to Spencer. “We’ve got our reel and line, our bobber, and a hook tested for one- to five-pounders.”
“So now what do we do?” At last Spencer seemed a little intrigued by the adventure. “Do we wait for the fish to jump out of there and grab the hook?”
“Naw, that’d be too easy. Now, we get one of these…” Wade put his hand in the bait bucket and scooped the bottom for a minnow. Several slipped through his fingers, but he finally pulled out one wriggling, silvery creature. He picked up the hook from the first rod and slipped the point into the tail of the minnow. Then he handed the rod to Spencer. “You want to cast out?”
“Sure, why not?”
Following the bait store manager’s instructions, Wade showed Spence how to open the bail, hold the line against the reel with his index finger, and whip the tip of the rod over the water. Spence lifted his finger when Wade told him to, and with a satisfying hiss, the line let out, and the hook and minnow sailed into the current.
“Nice cast,” Wade said, hoping he’d do as well.
Spencer smiled.
An hour later, the minnows were all gone, and Roone had wakened and tried his luck. In that time, Spence had caught four fish. Wade had caught three. Roone had cursed a good bit. Once the men proclaimed that the specimens were no doubt the finest ever snagged in these parts, they tossed the catch back into the river and watched them swim off downstream.
“So what do you think, Spence?” Wade asked as they gathered up the equipment and headed back to the house. “Want to try again tomorrow?”
“I suppose,” he said. “It wasn’t all that bad.”
Wade smiled at Roone over the top of the boy’s head. “I’m glad to hear you say that, because your mother bet me a dollar that you wouldn’t like this. And I can really use the money.”
The kid snorted out a sound that might have been stifled laughter and ran ahead, this time not seeming to care where his sneakers hit the dirt. And Wade thought about later that night, the second time today he would go to the river.
MEG SCOWLED over her shoulder at Mr. Cuddles who was lying on her pillow not paying the slightest bit of attention. “A bathing suit!” She resumed scrunching and fluffing her hair in front of the mirror until the freshly washed auburn waves fell to her shoulders in something resembling an actual style. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit from Orlando. And anyhow, has Wade forgotten how cold the water is?”
She angled sideways in front of the glass, sucked in her stomach and checked the fit of her jeans, though she’d worn this particular pair at least a hundred times. At the last moment before leaving her room, she unfastened the top button of her blouse. Her necklace, a simple heart pendant Spencer had given her for Christmas, hung just at the top of her breastbone, its garnet stones glistening against her skin.
She thrust her shoulders back, giving her posture a last-minute boost, and started to walk away from the mirror. But something in her reflection made her stop and take another look. She leaned close to the glass, scrutinized her features, and decided that she almost looked like someone else entirely. Her face glowed. Her eyes sparkled, her lips, with a light touch of coral, had a lipstick-model fullness. She looked sexy. And it had been a long time since Meg had thought of herself in those terms. A long time since she’d cared.
From her bedroom window, she’d seen Wade leave the house ten minutes before. She didn’t know what he’d told his family, but she’d told Spencer she was going for a walk and would be back shortly. He hadn’t objected to staying with Roone and Jenny, probably because he was still floating on a fisherman’s high from hauling in the biggest catch that afternoon. And Meg had picked up the latest Harry Potter movie from the video store. She peeked in at the three people whose eyes were glued to the TV screen and then ducked out the rear door. Very soon she would be at the river, dusk would be falling, and she might be kissing Wade Murdock again. Unless, of course, she did the sensible thing and maintained control of her emotions.
He was leaning against a pine tree, his arms crossed over his chest. When he saw her approach, he gave her a smile that was warm and welcoming, and something decidedly more intimate as if he’d saved that smile just for her. Her gaze flowed from his short-sleeved white shirt to his black denim-clad legs. “Where’s your suit?” she teased.
The grin widened and was reflected in his dark eyes. “I was caught up in the moment when I said that. It’s only June. I might consider jumping in when the temperature hits mid-August. Still, I was hoping you’d wear one.”
She stopped in front of him and gave him a challenging stare. “I think we should concentrate on why you invited me here.”
“I absolutely agree.” He wrapped his hands around her arms and pulled her to him. His mouth covered hers for a sweet, lingering kiss that left her dizzy with surprise because it wasn’t so sweet as to be a show of affection between friends. Oh, no. It was much more than that. It was a promise.
“What was that for?” she asked, when she’d found the breath to speak.
“To get it out of the way. If I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else.” The corner of his mouth curled upward. “As it is, even now that I’ve done it, I don’t think I’m out of the woods.”
“Maybe you did,” he said. “I just used that as an excuse.” He pushed away from the pine and stood with his legs wide, his unabashedly appreciative gaze firmly fixed on her. “That’s quite a kid you’ve got,” he said.
“Thanks, and you’ve changed the subject.” She stared at the curvature of his lips, imagining them fitting so well with hers just a moment ago. After giving herself a mental shake, she said, “I want to know, Wade. Why haven’t you signed the Right to Purchase Agreement Betty told me about?”
“Okay, I’ll tell you.” He led her to a fallen log where they both sat. “There are a couple of reasons.”
“And the first one is?”
“I promised your aunt I wouldn’t give her an ultimatum. If I sign Betty’s papers, I’m effectively kicking Mrs. Ashford out and breaking my word to her.”
Meg nodded. It was a noble explanation, but not really the one she’d hoped to hear. “And reason number two?”
“I decided to wait until after the auction. I figured if you were ever going to find the deed, it would be while you’re going through Mrs. Ashford’s things.”
She stared at the spring swirling below them. “I don’t think I’m going to find it, Wade. And neither do you.”
“I suppose you still could, and I want to be fair, Meg. I told you before…I don’t want to rob you of your house. I’ll admit that didn’t matter so much the first day you showed up here. But it does now.”
“And if I never prove the house is mine?”
“Then I’ll own it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve paid for it. I’ve put my heart and soul into it.”
She turned to look at him and found his deep brown eyes were as earnest as she’d ever seen them.
“I want this house, Meg,” he said.
“I know you do.”