Call Me Softly

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Call Me Softly Page 10

by D. Jackson Leigh


  Lillie stopped stabbing her salad. “Yes, well, Bonner Whitney helped me fend off the most persistent bidder. He wanted to buy the entire estate, stable and livestock included.”

  “Really? Who was that?”

  “Edward Hitchcock. He wants to give it to his son as a wedding present.”

  Swain frowned at her plate, her fingers worrying her napkin. If Susan and Jason married and lived in Abigail’s house, she could kiss her privacy good-bye. Susan would be knocking on her door every other night.

  “You don’t like Hitchcock?”

  “No, Edward’s fine.”

  “You don’t like his son?”

  “Jason’s a great guy.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s a good offer. You should consider it. I’m sure Jason would keep all the ponies, including letting Finesse enjoy her retirement years here.”

  She’d have to go back to the Florida polo fields for sure. Susan was fine for an occasional tumble, but hell would freeze over before Swain would be Susan’s employee. She began to clear the dishes from the table.

  Lillie put the casserole dish on the floor for Beau to finish. “I know you must be extremely tired, but could I ask one more small favor? It shouldn’t take long.”

  “What can I help you with?” She was relieved at the subject change.

  “I must have received thirty applications already for the housekeeper’s job, and the advertisement will be in the paper for several more days. I was hoping you could look through this first lot for any names you recognize. I don’t intend to interview more than ten, so I’d welcome any input to help me narrow the pool.”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  Swain finished the dishes while Lillie spread the stack of applications across the table. Swain glanced through them as Lillie booted up her laptop and prepared to make notes.

  “Not this one. She was dismissed from her last job for stealing.”

  “Oh. Was she arrested?”

  “No. Her father’s a minister in town, so they didn’t press charges.”

  “She goes in the reject pile then.”

  “Don’t know this one, or this one.” Swain glanced at the next and automatically put it in the reject pile.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’d want to do more than change your bedsheets.”

  Lillie found it amusing that Swain was being protective. “Is she attractive? Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

  Swain narrowed her eyes. “This girl’s looking for a Sugar Mama.”

  “Sugar Mama?”

  “Some rich woman to spend money on her. You’d get very little actual work out of her.”

  “I see. Perhaps I’ll give that one a pass then.”

  Swain nodded curtly and resumed leafing through the applicants. She stopped. “Hey, this one’s a guy!”

  “A man? I don’t think so.” Lillie pursed her lips as Swain read the resume.

  “It would be like having a butler. That could be kind of cool. Maybe he’s gay. Not too many straight guys would apply to be a housekeeper. You could go shopping together, watch soap operas on television, lunch together.” She held out the resume for Lillie to peruse.

  Lillie pointed to the reject pile. “I don’t watch ‘soap operas,’ as you call them, and I’m sure I wouldn’t be comfortable alone with a man in the house,” she said tightly.

  Swain shrugged and let the matter drop. She picked up a single sheet that was more of a letter than a resume. “Remember the woman who was helping Mrs. Riley? That was Mary Chandler.” She handed the paper over to Lillie.

  “That was her delicious casserole we just ate?”

  “Yes.”

  “She doesn’t list any job experience.”

  “She’s had lots of experience she didn’t put in that letter. She organizes the fund-raiser each year to buy school supplies for needy children. And, if anybody’s sick in the community, you can bet Mary will take over a ham or some soup—something to make them feel better. She has a great reading voice and records books for people whose eyesight is failing. It’s nothing professional, just her in her living room with a digital recorder. They keep them at the local library where people can check them out.”

  “She sounds like she’s already busy enough.”

  “Yeah, well. Her husband got laid off from his job last year at the nuclear plant where everybody around here works. That’s probably why she’s looking for a job that pays. But I’m sure you have a lot of applicants with real experience.”

  “I’ll put her in the ‘consider’ pile.” If Swain respected this woman so much, maybe she’d keep her on after Lillie left and Swain took her rightful place as the Wetherington heir.

  Swain held up the last resume Lillie had printed. “Is this it? Do you have more?”

  “I can check my e-mail.”

  Swain moved to look over her shoulder. “Hey, that’s me.” Lillie’s screensaver was a slide show of her and the guys practicing on the field out back. “Where did you get these?”

  “I took them from the balcony the first morning I was here.”

  Swain looked at her with new respect. “Wow. These are really good.”

  Lillie blushed and tapped the keys for her e-mail to download. While they waited, Swain took a closer look at the “consider” pile to see if any had references she recognized.

  It was Beau’s whine that alerted her something was wrong. He had been lying next to Lillie’s chair, but was now sitting up with his head resting on Lillie’s thigh. Lillie had her hands frozen, suspended over the keyboard. Her face was pale.

  “Lillie, are you okay?” When she didn’t answer, Swain grasped one of her hands. It was ice-cold. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Lillie shuddered and dropped her hands but held tight to Swain’s. She closed her eyes and leaned back. Beau licked at their joined hands and whined softly. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought. If I offer you dinner tomorrow night, do you think we could continue this then?”

  Swain rubbed Lillie’s hand with hers. “Are you sure? Maybe you hit your head when you fell the other day. Do you have a headache?”

  Lillie gave her a weak smile and withdrew her hand. “I’m fine. Just tired. Thank you for being concerned.”

  But Swain could feel her nervousness. Lillie’s other hand was clutching the wiry ruff of Beau’s neck. “Okay. I’ll go and let you get some rest.” Swain stood. “You know, don’t you, that hitting ‘one’ on any phone in the house speed-dials my cell?”

  “Yes, you told me earlier, and I saw the list by the phone in the office. One for you, two for the barn office.”

  When Lillie stood and walked Swain to the door, Beau pushed past them and acted as a sentry outside, eyes and ears alert as he scanned the yard.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  Lillie’s hand on her arm stopped her. “I was wondering about the alarm.” She pointed toward the set of buttons on the wall next to the door. “Does it work? I haven’t noticed it being on since I got here.”

  Swain was surprised. Until now, Lillie had seemed perfectly at ease in the house. “It works fine. I just never activate it unless I plan to be gone overnight. Somebody’s around most of the time. It’d be pretty hard for burglars to carry off much without someone noticing. So, I leave it off for the cleaning people.”

  “I’m just not used to such a large house. It gets a little scary being here alone at night. I’d feel better if the alarm was on.”

  Something in Lillie’s demeanor triggered Swain’s protective instincts. What wasn’t Lillie telling her? “That’s not a problem. The cleaning people have the code. I’ll let them know it’ll be on if nobody’s at home.” She showed Lillie how to activate and deactivate the system.

  Lillie crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her feet. “I don’t mean to be such a scared ninny.”

  Swain stepped close, ducking her head to capture Lillie’s gaze and hold it. “You should have told me
before now that you were uneasy in the house alone.”

  Lillie’s palm was soft against Swain’s face. “It’s fine. It didn’t bother me at first because I was too tired and too stressed to think about it.” She gently kissed Swain’s cheek. “You’re very sweet to worry about me.” Her thumb caressed Swain’s lips before she dropped her hand. “Thank you.”

  Swain blinked slowly, forcing down the desire that tore at her. She wanted to pull Lillie against her, to fill her arms with Lillie’s warmth, fill her head with Lillie’s scent. Instead, she stepped through the open door and out into the night. “Sweet dreams, Lillie.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lillie watched Swain walk down the long drive to the barn. Beau hesitated, looking back at the house, then finally followed his mistress. She set the alarm and turned to stare at her laptop, hugging herself for a long moment before she returned to her chair and clicked her e-mail open.

  She stared at the e-mail header, and the terror of what might be stalking the Wetheringtons flooded back.

  Lillie had called her off-again, on-again girlfriend, Rayne, for a night out. After sharing a bottle of wine over dinner, they were starting to feel on again, so they left the restaurant for a nearby women’s bar, where they danced and imbibed liberally.

  “Come home with me, love,” Rayne purred as they stumbled out of the bar. “I’ll drive you back to get your car in the morning.”

  Rayne ran a fitness center and was always a good tumble. It was exactly what Lillie needed to forget her troubles.

  “Just let me get my mobile from the car so I can let Grandmum know I won’t be home.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  “No need. I’m just around the corner.”

  Rayne lit a cigarette and propped herself against her car to wait.

  Lillie didn’t see him. The side street wasn’t as well-lit as the main street, so the alley near her car was completely dark. Also, the alcohol she’d consumed had dulled her watchfulness.

  He jerked her into the alley and used his weight to crush her against the rough brick wall. She tried to scream, but his sweaty hand covered her mouth. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “What would Daddy say if he knew his little girl was a muff-diver? Do you lick her pussy or does she lick yours? Maybe you lick each other at the same time.” He pressed his hips forward and she could feel his erection through their clothes as he rubbed against her belly. She struggled to free herself. “I guess this means you’ll never give Granny another little Wetherington, huh?”

  He wedged his thigh between her legs and ran his hand inside her shirt to roughly squeeze her breast. “Well, you know what? I can help you with that.” He began to fumble with his pants.

  Lillie bit hard on the hand that covered her mouth and he jerked it away from her teeth. She filled her lungs and screamed as loud as she could.

  “Lillie?” Rayne’s boots hit the pavement loudly as she ran toward them.

  “Bitch!” he growled, before drawing back his fist and hitting her so hard her teeth cut into her cheek.

  He fled down the long alley, disappearing into the darkness. Rayne skidded around the corner and immediately ran to Lillie, letting the assailant escape.

  The police took a report, but because she wasn’t seriously hurt, they did little to investigate. Then, shortly after she received the first e-mail from him, Abigail’s accident happened. In his next e-mail, he bragged that he had pushed her into the path of the car.

  Lillie went to the police again, but her stalker was very Internet-savvy and they were unable to trace the origin of his messages.

  She paused over the keyboard. Perhaps the stalker thought she was still in London. She opened his e-mail and her hope dimmed.

  I watched you board at Heathrow. Did you think I didn’t know about the estate in South Carolina? I am coming to you soon.

  Could she have been more foolish? She could give the police little description of him other than he was a white man, who wore dark clothing and a black ski mask. But she’d never forget that voice. And he had easily tracked her here.

  Her panic rose like bile in her throat. She needed to leave now. She could talk with Mr. Whitney about liquidating and depositing whatever Abigail had left her into an account she could access from anywhere in the world she happened to end up.

  What about Swain? Damn it. She shouldn’t care, but she did. Lillie closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure how much more she could deal with, but she had to calm down and think this through. Wetherington blood might not flow in her veins, but they had been her family since she was four. She loved them. She owed them. And now there was Swain, the lost Wetherington, to worry about.

  Secrets are like sleeping dogs that bite when startled awake. If they must be roused, then call them forth softly.

  Damn the bastard who was stalking her. He wouldn’t chase her off before she did what had been asked of her. She would stay until the will was read, then tell Swain everything. It would be up to her to protect herself after Lillie was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They settled into a comfortable routine over the next week.

  Lillie would start the day reviewing resumes and checking references. About midmorning, when Swain and Rob finished working the first group of ponies, Lillie would take a break and walk down to the barn. They would saddle whatever pair of horses needed exercising and work them on the trails for a couple of hours. Lunch would be something light in Swain’s apartment, then they went about their separate tasks until Swain came up to the house to prepare dinner and review Lillie’s progress in hiring a housekeeper.

  On Friday, Lillie was running a bit late, conducting her last interview from her list of ten finalists.

  In her late twenties, Catherine Strom was poised and attractive. Her resume was impeccable and she was a licensed chef. Lillie had included her in the finalists to be interviewed because she listed Swain as a reference.

  “How do you know Swain?” she asked.

  Catherine blushed and tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “We’re friends.”

  “Have you known each other long?”

  “About three years. We met in Columbia, where I was a cooking student. She’s sampled my cooking, so I thought she could vouch for me.”

  Is that all she sampled? Lillie was annoyed at her jealousy. “With your qualifications, I have to wonder why you’re applying for this job. It’s only temporary, a few months, most likely.”

  “That’s why I’m interested. I was hired to take over the sous-chef position at a local restaurant. But, after I accepted the job and moved here, the man who has held that job for years discovered he’d have to delay his retirement until December to receive full benefits. I’m financially secure enough to sit around until December, but I prefer to work. I love cooking.”

  Catherine held up a grocery bag she had brought with her. “I realize I would have other duties, but your ad said the primary task would be to cook. I took the liberty of preparing an assortment of samples for you to taste and included several traditional English dishes.”

  Lillie was impressed. “Thank you. You’re the only applicant to do that.”

  “I hope it may increase my chances, and they advised us to do it in cooking school,” she confessed with a smile. “Would you like to sample some now? They’re still warm.”

  Lillie studied Catherine. She wanted more than a housekeeper. She wanted someone willing to teach her to cook. She could easily see them shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen, giggling like girls as Catherine taught her how to prepare a new dish.

  The sound of Swain’s boots thumping against the hardwood flooring made both of them turn toward the open door.

  “Lillie? Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were still interviewing.” Swain smiled at Catherine. “Hey. It’s good to see you again. How are you?”

  Catherine smiled back. “I’m fine. Thanks for letting me know about this opening.”

  Swain stepped into th
e room. “What smells so good?”

  Catherine indicated the bag at her side. “I brought some samples to influence Ms. Wetherington in my favor.”

  Swain grinned as she peeked into the bag. “Yeah? That’s not very fair to the other applicants.”

  Lillie was piqued at their familiarity. She was trying to conduct a professional interview. “Perhaps you could take the food to the kitchen while we finish up here,” she pointedly suggested.

  Catherine looked uncomfortable and Swain surprised at Lillie’s brusque dismissal, so she softened her tone. “Please, if you don’t mind. We won’t be long.”

  “Sure thing.” Swain smiled again and held up the bag. “Thanks, Catherine. This means we won’t have to cook tonight.” She disappeared through the doorway.

  “It didn’t start out that way, but Swain and I really are just friends,” Catherine said. She apparently hadn’t missed that Swain’s “we” meant her and Lillie.

  Lillie was embarrassed that she was so transparent. “I’m afraid Swain has been burdened with making sure I don’t starve before I can hire someone to cook for me.”

  “She’s quite a chef herself.”

  “Yes, she is.” She gathered the pages of Catherine’s application and stood. “I see that all your contact information is on your resume. I expect to make a decision over the weekend and notify everyone early next week.”

  Catherine stood and extended her hand. “It’s been very nice to meet you. I didn’t know your grandmother, but please accept my condolences.”

  “Thank you. Everybody here has been very kind.”

  She walked Catherine out and rested against the door after she closed it. Why hadn’t she told Catherine that she and Swain also were just friends? Lillie shook her head and headed for the kitchen. She didn’t want to think about why.

  *

  Swain had unpacked the food and was taking some glasses from the cabinet when she realized Lillie was watching her from the doorway.

 

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