“Then if she’s witnessed so much tragedy, why would she choose to work with a bunch of old people and own a casket company?”
“For several reasons, though I think mostly because it gives her a sense of control. The pleasure of taking care of her aging parents was stolen from her, so she takes care of people who don’t have any family to look after them.” He sighed. “Like me, I suppose. She knows we’re all knocking on death’s door, and if she can’t stop it, she can at least control some small part of it. The caskets are her way of making sure we meet our maker in style.”
He chuckled. “She only intended to build them for the local market, but she made the mistake of putting a retired Fortune 500 CEO in charge of operations. I don’t think Silas Payne has ever heard of a cottage industry.”
“So Willa leaves all the day-to-day decisions to Payne?”
“She has to, because she’s too busy saving the world one person at a time.”
Sam gave Emmett the oddest look. “That’s exactly how I see her! She rushes around trying so damn hard to make sure everyone else is happy, she keeps tripping over her own feet.”
Emmett took another bite of his roll, pleased to realize that Sinclair was just as sharp as his grandfather. Oh, yeah. Willy Wild Child had just met her match.
“You said you had some advice?” Sam said, picking up another roll and chomping down on it.
“It’s my guess you intend to have your brothers tie up Bram’s will in court to protect Tidewater, while you work on fixing Willa’s guilt problem so she’ll be free to marry you.”
“You don’t think that’s a good plan?”
Emmett set down his food and turned in his seat. “Being men, our first instinct is to fix everything. But women don’t want us fixing their problems for them. They want us to listen, get mad right along with them, and love them just the way they are.”
“So I should…?”
“You should forget about that damn bequest for a couple of months and sit back and see what happens. Get to know Willa by getting to know her sister, Shelby, and Jennifer and Cody. Hang around her factory, and talk to her workers. Roll up your sleeves and pitch in like Bram did. You’d be amazed at the clarity of mind you get when working with your hands.”
“And Barry Cobb?”
“Folks around here will take care of Cobb, with a little prodding from me,” he added with a grin. “We’ve sent more than one flatlander down the road talking to himself. You just concentrate on Willa. Charm her socks off her. Make her feel like a giddy young girl again.”
Sam snorted and stuffed the last half of his roll into his mouth.
Emmett stood up, tossed both their plates into the trash, and took out his wallet. “You might as well come stay with me,” he said, paying the vendor for both meals. “That way, folks will leave you alone.”
Sam nodded to Emmett. “Thanks for dinner. But I thought you said two ornery men didn’t make good housemates.”
“Ornery old men.” He stuffed the change into the tip jar, then pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Sam. “I’m not worried about our rooming together, because age and treachery overcome youth and skill any day of the week. It’s the blue pickup parked in the end lot,” he said, nodding down the street. “And since rumor has it you don’t drown easy, and I can be a treacherous old bastard sometimes, I’ll wait here for you to pick me up.”
Chapter Fourteen
Willa stared through the rain-blurred windshield at all the vehicles in her driveway. Was she ever going to be alone to think? One of the cars had New York plates, so it belonged to Abram’s housekeeper, Peg. Damn, she’d forgotten all about her moving in. And even Shelby was conspiring against her, since her sister’s minivan also sat in her cluttered driveway.
When had she lost control of her life?
“The real question, Willamina, is when are you going to take it back?” she muttered, her words drowned out by the wind and rain.
But it was the expensive-looking bright red SUV parked directly in front of her headlights, sporting temporary plates, that was really keeping Willa from going inside. Granted, she’d been at her factory for more than two hours with Cyrus’s brothers, but surely Sam hadn’t had time to go out and buy a car yet, had he?
Maybe she could sleep at her factory, just to get one night alone with her thoughts. Shelby was going to keep her up past midnight, asking her all about Abram’s home, his grandsons, and the funeral. Willa smiled. If that was Sam’s truck, then Shelby had already started the inquisition—after she’d given Sam a piece of her mind for shanghaiing her husband.
The kitchen door opened, and Jennifer stepped onto the porch, pulling on a rain slicker. “Auntie!” the girl called, skipping down the stairs. She ran limping up to the driver’s side of Willa’s truck. “Isn’t it beautiful!” she exclaimed when Willa rolled down her window.
“What? The storm? Get in here before you drown,” she said, motioning her to run around to the other side.
“No, let’s sit in my truck,” Jennifer said, running to the driver’s side of the SUV and climbing in.
Willa rolled up her window, opened the door, and made a mad dash for the SUV. “Your truck!” she squealed, climbing into the passenger seat. She immediately slid back out. “It’s a leather interior. We’re going to get it all wet.”
“Get in here, Auntie,” Jen said with a laugh, grabbing Willa’s sleeve and pulling her back inside. She slid the key into the ignition, started it up, and immediately turned down the volume on the radio. “Isn’t this the greatest?” She flipped on the interior lights. “I just took my learner’s permit exam two days ago, but I haven’t tried driving it yet. It’s got satellite radio, navigation, and even a DVD player in the back.” She ran her hands lovingly over the steering wheel. “And it’s all mine,” she finished on a whisper.
“Oh, my God, Jen. It’s beautiful.” Willa turned in her seat to take it all in. “You could put an entire softball team in here.”
Jen shook her head. “When I get my license, I won’t be able to carry anyone who isn’t family for six months. Abram picked it out especially for me, because it was big and safe.” Her expression turned pained. “I’m sorry he died, Auntie. I really liked him, you know? He was a cool old guy.”
“They don’t make them any cooler,” Willa agreed. “And I’m glad you got to know him, Jen.” She chuckled so she wouldn’t tear up. “Whenever he was talking to me about you, he always referred to you as ‘that spitfire niece of yours,’” she said, dropping her voice to sound like Abram.
“He wrote me a letter,” Jen said. “I put it in my jewelry box, and I’m going to keep it forever. Abram told me to grab the world by the tail and give it a good shake every now and then, just to see what happens.”
Willa laughed, wiping her eyes.
“Look,” Jen said, pointing at the floor by her feet. “They put the gas petal on the left side, so I can use my left foot instead of my right, but everything else is the same. And when it comes time for me to trade it in, the pedal can be put back on the right side with hardly any trouble.” She looked over at Willa. “That was Emmett’s idea, Abram said in his letter. The two of them decided I could learn to use my left foot just as easily as people learn to use their right foot for driving.”
“It’s perfect for you,” Willa agreed. “But I noticed the temporary plate isn’t handicapped. Do you have to wait until you register it to get one?”
Jen gaped at her. “I’m not getting one of those—they’re for handicapped people. I’ve been trying to get Mom to get rid of the one on our van for years.” She shot Willa a mischievous smile. “I’m getting a vanity plate that says CATCH ME. You know, as in ‘Catch me if you can’? Abram suggested it in his letter.”
Feeling about two inches tall, Willa gave her forehead a dramatic slap. “What was I thinking? Of course, you’ll get a vanity plate.”
They both jumped when somebody pounded on Jen’s window. “Mom said if you two don’t come in
for supper, she’s not even saving you the wishbone,” Cody hollered through the window. He spun around and ran back to the house.
Jen shut off the truck. “I wish I could have thanked Abram personally. His letter also said Spencer was setting up an appointment for me in New York City to be fitted for a special prosthesis so I can do sports and stuff.”
Willa patted her niece’s arm. “You’ll be thanking Abram every time you shake the world by its tail, Jen,” she said with a laugh, opening her door.
Jen stopped her by grabbing her sleeve. “Um…Mom’s got some news for you, Auntie. She’s been worrying all week about telling you, so…well, try not to overreact, okay?”
The fine hairs on Willa’s neck rose in alarm. “What news?”
Jen opened her own door. “Mom will tell you. Just don’t take it personally, okay?” She scrunched up her pretty young face. “Like you usually do.”
She was out the door and running through the rain before Willa could ask what in hell she’d meant by that. “I’ll show you personal, you little brat,” she muttered, dashing for the house. “Let’s see how long it takes you to notice the ‘Don’t bother honking; I’m blond’ sticker I’m going to put on your fancy new bumper.”
Crammed to the gills with the best stuffing and gravy she’d ever eaten, Willa sat on the floor against her couch, her face bathed in firelight from the hearth, and fought to stay awake. “You fill my wineglass one more time, Shel, and I’m going to fall asleep right here.”
“Fine with me,” Shelby said, setting down the bottle and leaning against the couch next to her. “I wasn’t looking forward to sharing a bed with you, anyway.”
“The storm’s not that bad. Go home; whatever you have to tell me can wait until tomorrow. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in more than a week.”
“Um…my bed is in your barn, along with all my other worldly possessions.”
“Oh, my God,” Willa whispered. “You left Richard.”
“The timing was perfect, what with him being…out of the country. And I can’t very well kick Richard out of his family homestead, can I? So I packed up all our belongings, stored everything in your barn, and the three of us have moved in with you,” she finished with a smile.
“When did you decide to leave him?”
“I filed the divorce papers about a month ago.”
“And you’re only telling me now!”
Her sister became very busy swirling the wine in her glass. “I was afraid of how you’d react.”
“How I’d react how?”
Shelby leaned her shoulder against the couch to face her. “You have a very bad habit of thinking you’re somehow responsible for everything that happens to anyone you care about.” She shrugged. “You’ve been nagging me to leave him for years now, and I knew once I did, you’d find a way to blame yourself for my marriage breaking up. Then you’d feel guilty, and then you’d start trying to fix me, just like you try to fix everyone.”
“I do not!”
“Who marched over to school and gave Cody’s basketball coach hell last fall?”
“That jerk was only interested in winning. He’s supposed—”
“Without even telling me you were going to see him,” Shelby continued forcefully, cutting Willa off. “And who keeps visiting her ex-mother-in-law because she feels guilty for divorcing her son and his moving to Montana?”
“I like Jean Sommers.”
“My God, Willy, you even started a business to give a bunch of bored old people something to do.”
“I have to earn a living.”
“Then there’s the diner. You’re banned from ever going in there again, for heaven’s sakes.”
“That wasn’t really my fault. Craig Watson is a—”
“And Uncle Jake’s funeral? And Beverly and Clyde’s wedding? Oh, and let’s not forget last year’s town meeting debacle. Shall I go on?”
Willa closed her mouth and stared into the fire.
“I’m getting a divorce because Richard and I barely talk to each other anymore,” Shelby said softly. “I stuck it out for the kids, but I simply can’t do it anymore.” She laughed humorlessly. “Jen finally came right out and told me that if I didn’t leave Richard, she was leaving us. She said she couldn’t stand the tension anymore, and she’d take Cody and live with Emmett.”
“Emmett? Not me?” Willa said in surprise.
Shelby wrapped her arms around Willa and gave her a squeeze. “They love you to death but only in small doses, Willy. They don’t want to be fussed over; they want to fight their own battles.”
“I do not fuss over them.”
“Yes, you do. You fuss over everyone—except yourself. When was the last time you went out on a date?”
“In March.”
Shelby snorted. “Peter Thomas doesn’t count. He’s old enough to be our father, and that was a sympathy date because his wife had run off with a younger man. Let me rephrase the question: When was the last time you got laid?”
Willa scrambled to her feet and glared down at her sister. “How did this conversation get turned to my love life? We’re supposed to be discussing your divorce.”
Shelby also stood up. “There is nothing to discuss, Willa. Well, except for my living arrangements. It’s going to take me a couple of weeks to find a place I can afford to buy, so I had planned to move in here with you. But there are only four bedrooms, and Peg has one of them. That leaves one for Cody, one for Jennifer, and yours.” She grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. “I suppose I could stay in the cottage.”
“I’ll stay in the cottage. That way, you won’t have to worry about my fussing over your kids.”
“It was an observation, Willa, not a criticism. And I have no intention of kicking you out of your home. I’ll move my things into the cottage tomorrow.” She smiled impishly. “But I’m eating here. I’ve never had roast chicken that tasted so good.”
Willa set her glass on the end table, strode into the kitchen, and grabbed her rain slicker. “You can have the house and the housekeeper. I’ll move my stuff out of my bedroom tomorrow.”
Shelby followed her into the kitchen. “Willa!”
Willa ran out the door and down the steps, holding the rain slicker over her head as she dashed for the cottage, fighting the wind howling off the ocean. A swaying branch snatched the slicker right out of her hands, and she was soaked to the skin when she finally reached the cottage.
The door was locked. Who in hell had locked the door? She ran back down the stairs, dug in the mud for the key she kept under the step, then finally stumbled into the darkened cottage and felt around for the light switch. The lights didn’t come on, and she looked out the window at the main house and saw that it was also pitch black.
Feeling her bottom lip beginning to quiver, Willa stripped out of her clothes by the door, felt her way to the bedroom, crawled under the covers, and burst into tears.
“Oh, Auntie, I told you not to take it personally,” Jen said with a sigh, sitting on the bed and brushing Willa’s hair back off her face. “You cried all night, didn’t you?”
Willa pulled the pillow over her head.
Jen snatched the pillow away and stood up. “Well, crying time is over, because you have to teach me to drive my truck on the way to school. Then you can take it to work and pick me up at three, and we can practice until supper. I can apply for my license by the end of August, which only gives me three months to get the hang of it.”
Willa pulled the blankets up over her head. “You’re a teenager, Jen. You’re not supposed to be bright and cheery in the morning.” She brought the covers down to her chin and glared at her niece. “Besides, your mother should be the one teaching you to drive.”
“Are you nuts? We’d kill each other. Come on,” Jen said, trying to pull the blankets off.
“Hey, I’m naked under here! Go see if the clothes fairy hung my clothes up to dry last night, would you?”
“The power’s still out on
your road,” Jen said, heading into the main room. “You’ll have to shower at work. Peg sent down clean clothes for you and milk and cereal.” She walked back into the bedroom carrying a neatly folded bundle of clothes. “And she told me she was going to move into the cottage this morning, so Mom can have her bedroom. I told her I’d rather stay in the cottage.”
“It’s my cottage, and I’m staying in it,” Willa sat up. “Jen,” she said when the girl turned to leave. “I’m sorry your parents are getting divorced.”
Jennifer gave her a sad smile. “I’m more sorry that they don’t love each other. But their separating will be better for all of us. Mom will start laughing again, and Dad will work fewer hours and spend more time with Cody and me.”
“How did you get to be so wise?”
Jen shrugged. “You hang around Emmett long enough, I think you get it by osmosis. Hurry up, I want to get to school early, so everyone can see me driving my new truck,” she said, whirling around and shutting the door on the way out.
Willa couldn’t help but smile. Jennifer reminded her so much of herself at that age; she had haunted Emmett’s boatyard every day, too. Willa knew he had always hoped she’d take over his business one day, since he had no children to pass it down to. It looked as if Jennifer was the new heir apparent, which pleased Willa to no end. Jen had a passion for wooden boats, and for Sengatti sloops in particular. Though only sixteen, she had already designed and built a day sailer that Emmett had proudly put into production last year.
“Is the RoseWind really yours, Auntie?” Jen asked through the door, her words sounding garbled.
“Abram left it to me in his will,” Willa called back as she dressed. “Hey, are you eating my cereal?”
“We’ll pick you up something on the way to school. Wow, do you know how much that boat cost new? It’s in the seven figures! Abram must have been really rich. Was his family upset that you got it?”
The Man Must Marry Page 15
