Mending Fences (Destined for Love: Mansions)

by Lorin Grace

  What was he insinuating? Mandy needed more air. “No, I didn’t think much of what was inside.”

  “You did on a couple of them. See? You put a crib in this window of the family home. And look what you put in the windows of this one.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  Daniel laughed. “You must have been very mad to create this one, judging by your blush. I still want to see the original.”

  When unicorns land on your lawn. Mandy backed up a step as the heat in her face grew. “I don’t think you do.”

  Surprisingly, Daniel didn’t advance. “It must have been very, very bad.”

  Mandy felt the blush to her toes.

  Daniel moved on to a new subject. “We have time to decide. There are 630 acres here, and I have thought of several uses. For some of the land.”

  Not sure what to do with the “we,” she ignored it. “Aren’t you selling?”

  “I have thought of selling the north section that used to be the cornfields to the Amish. I hear they are looking for more land in the area. Maybe put the mansion in some sort of charitable trust.” He looked at his watch. “I think it’s time for lunch. Shall we go see what Hank’s posterity has to say about that?” They left the house through the kitchen, where Daniel grabbed a picnic basket. Mandy was impressed. He hadn’t had long to plan.

  He entwined his fingers with hers, and they headed to the pond. As they drew near, the ducks started quacking.

  “Do you hear what they are saying?” asked Daniel.

  “Quack-quack-quack?”

  “No, I hear ‘quack-quack, quack-honk-quack-quack, honk-quack-honk-quack.”

  “I-L-C—I love cookies?” Mandy’s heart sped up. She was pretty sure she knew what he was trying to say, but she needed to hear it.

  “Oops, that last one should have been a honk for Y.” Daniel set the basket down.

  “The ducks love me?”

  Daniel shook his head and settled his hands on her waist. “Not the ducks. Me.” He stepped closer and started to lower his head, his eyes tracking hers, then lowering to her mouth.

  Mandy stood on her tiptoes and did what every girl was dying to do. She kissed Daniel Crawford hello. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him some more.

  He kissed her back.

  And while they embraced, Hank’s great-grandson stuck his head in the basket and ran off with a sandwich.

  Epilogue

  Candace adjusted Mandy’s veil. “There you go—something new. I still can’t believe that dress is nearly seventy years old. Not many brides wear the groom’s grandmother’s dress.”

  “And the maid of honor too. I loved that pale-yellow dress from the time I was six. And I am glad they made duplicates for Araceli and Tessa.”

  Candace gave a little twirl. “I still think you should have worn this as you’re going-away dress.”

  “Nope, this bride is wearing her dress when she leaves the building.” Mandy slipped the garter with its traditional blue ribbon onto her leg.

  Mandy’s mother bustled in. “Oh, the ballroom is gorgeous, and it is fitting the first event at the Crawford Center be your wedding. I still think it is a shame you are not living here. Think of all the history.”

  Mandy kissed her mother’s cheek. “Daniel and I will mostly live in Chicago, and we’ll spend weekends at my cottage—I mean our cottage.”

  “Did he ever tell you where you were spending your honeymoon?” Candace asked, checking her perfectly normal sandy-blonde wig. She had explained earlier that she didn’t want to stand out in the photos.

  “Nope, but Terrance did let something slip about meeting me soon.”

  Candace squealed.

  Tessa and Araceli came into the room carrying flowers. After being roommates for nearly four years, it was good to have them both here.

  Tessa handed her a worn copy of Wuthering Heights. “Your something borrowed, although as much as this book has sat on the library table these past few months, I am not sure it shouldn’t be yours. I’ll never be able to read it again without thinking of you hogging Lover’s Loft.”

  Mandy’s mom wrapped the book in a swath of satin and lace. “There, dear. Everyone will assume you hold a little Bible with your flowers. Did I ever tell you the tradition is believed to be Irish?”

  Mandy patted her mother’s hand, hoping to stave off full-professor mode.

  Araceli blinked and held up a hand to shade her eyes. “That is one wicked reflection off your cottage windows.”

  Mandy moved to the window.

  “That isn’t a reflection. It is Morse code.”

  “What does it say?”

  Mandy studied the flashing light for a moment until the message started to repeat. “Same thing he wrote in the laundry room. Good fences make good neighbors but lousy lovers.”

  Kiss Me in the Rain by Lindzee Armstrong

  Cypress Grove Mansion, a treasured constant in Layla’s perfect life, will be sold to the highest bidder if she doesn’t date an investor’s son. The problem? The man she really wants just rolled into town.

  Roping His Heart by Jaclyn Hardy

  Rachel has dreamed of owning the old mansion since she was a child. When Patrick comes to town with the deed in his hand, Rachel’s hopes are shattered. Can she have both the house and the man who has captured her heart, or will she be left with nothing?

  The Princess and the Pizza Man by Cassie Mae

  Cupid is supposedly haunting Frostville Mansions, and skeptic Will heads to the place with the hope his sister will finally find the love she wants. But when he starts to fall for the fun and spunky owner, he wonders if there may be a love god living in the walls after all.

  Mending Fences by Lorin Grace

  Two decades ago a little girl climbed a fence and found a friend. Now all she finds is trouble. Daniel Crawford has taken to chasing off intruders by any means possible. No one is going to cross the fence into his land. Or his heart.

  Love Me at Sunset by Lucinda Whitney

  The remote Sunset Manor is the perfect place to start over for the new groundskeeper. But when suspicious accidents start at the property, will he be able to protect the reclusive widow?

  Saving Sycamore Bay by Cami Checketts

  Harrison Jackson has always been revered for his athleticism. When he’s asked to help a southern belle, a women looks past his stats and handsome face, he falls quickly, but she’s in too big of a mess to commit to anyone.

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  SNEAK PEEK

  Chapter One

  How much hope could a place hold for a new beginning?

  Afonso arrived at the stone wall and dropped the canvas bag on the side of the road. The intricate monogram on each panel of the iron gate confirmed he was at the right place. Casa do Sol Poente—Sunset Manor. Was this his fresh start? A place named after his favorite time of day could only bring good luck.

  In the valley below, the first shadows cast by the setting sun already inched closer to the foothills of the small village of Sete Fontes. The view opened far beyond the winding river to the red-roofed houses dotting the hills on the other bank.

  He reached for his water bottle and took a long swig, appreciating the differences in the air around him. No traffic noises. No congested streets and crowded sidewalks. And more notably, no sounds of churning industrial-sized washers, the hiss of steam irons, and the always-present loud-cursing men he’d had to put up with during laundry duty.

  Only the languorous clangs of the church bell and a couple of dogs barking at each other on a farm down the hill.

  A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He liked it already.

  The walk from the village had taken close to an hour, and he hadn’t passed any other houses or farms in the last fifteen minutes. The promise of solitude bloomed more real than he’d thought possible.

/>   Afonso swung the bag over his shoulder and placed the empty bottle in an outside pocket. The gate was ajar, and he passed through easily, noting the signs of neglect. The original color was hard to pick amid the rust stains, and it could use a good cleaning and a new coat of paint.

  As he climbed the winding road past the bend, rows of hydrangea bushes lined the lichen-covered walls, the large blue petals brightening the old stones. Through the branches, a peek of stone caught Afonso’s attention, but the thick foliage hid the rest of the house from view.

  After the paved road curved sharply in the other direction, Afonso stopped. A woman stood at the edge of a weed-infested path, facing a row of mature linden trees. The golden light outlined her delicate figure, contrasting with the wildness of the bushes and vegetation behind her, a mass of twisted greens of various shades speckled with tiny buds of the red, pink, and yellow of a once-grand rose garden.

  Before he had the chance to make his presence known, the woman clutched her middle and doubled over, retching violently.

  Afonso turned away from her and took a step back, torn between the urge to help her and the need to give her privacy. Had she eaten something bad, or was she ill? His former training kicked in and his mind went through a list of possibilities.

  After a few moments, she straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She mumbled something and shook her head, the disgust in her tone clear and unmistakable.

  Afonso shifted his bag. “Hey, are you okay?”

  The woman shrieked and jumped back with a hand over her chest. When she turned to face him, her eyes widened with surprise, which was quickly replaced with something stronger. “This is private property,” she yelled. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” She flicked her eyes to the ground and her cheeks flamed red. “Are you some kind of pervert spying on people?”

  Afonso shouldered his bag behind his back and raised his hands in a show of conciliation. “I’m sorry if I caught you at a bad moment. I promise I’m not spying on you.” He spoke slowly, trying to diffuse the tension. “I’m here to meet with the owner.”

  She crossed her arms over her middle, and this time the disgust in her expression was surely directed at him. “He should be in the main house.” Her tone was curt.

  Afonso stepped back onto the private driveway and nodded a quick thanks to her.

  Her eyes narrowed at him as she watched him go by. “You better not be lying.”

  He paused and met her eyes. “I don’t lie.” All the lies were in the past. He was done with that life.

  She didn’t reply, but her left eyebrow raised. In contradiction or skepticism, he couldn’t tell.

  When Afonso reached the clearing, he looked back, but she was gone. He gave himself a mental shake to push the strange encounter from his mind.

  The manor house was large and almost as imposing as he’d expected. Its neoclassical style was reflected in the symmetric lines of the windows on the ground floor and the row of Juliet balconies on the first floor. From the red-tiled roof, a pair of attic dormers rose on each side. A wide staircase led to the front where a heavy, paneled wooden door matched the green of the painted shutters. The effect was almost striking, minimized only by the intense disarray of all the vegetation surrounding the area. In its glory days, the granite house’s grandeur must have been impressive.

  Afonso climbed the steps. Even the door knocker was a classic. He lifted the iron hand holding a ball and smacked it against the metal plate on the wood surface.

  After a new knocks, the door swung open.

  A dark-haired man in his midthirties stood at the entrance. “Hello. Can I help you?” His tone was friendly.

  “I’m looking for Filipe Romano,” Afonso said.

  The man extended his hand. “I’m Filipe Romano.” His grip was strong, and he made eye contact. “Are you Afonso Cortez by any chance?”

  Afonso nodded. “I am.”

  Filipe Romano’s expression relaxed into a smile. “Praise the heavens. I thought you’d changed your mind about coming. Please, come in.”

  The faint scent of new construction and aged wood permeated the air. The area was clean and void of furniture but for a large rug covering the aged marble floor in front of the stairs and a free-standing coat-rack made of heavy wood. The main staircase split in two at the first landing, one to each side of the house. The oval skylight let the sunshine in to spill naturally down the staircase, casting shadows into the corners.

  Afonso took a moment to study Filipe Romano. He looked like a slightly older version of his cousin Matias, Afonso’s former boss. The family resemblance was evident in the same brown eyes and high forehead. “Sorry I’m late. The walk up was a bit longer than I thought.”

  “You walked from the village?”

  “I’m without my own transportation at the moment.” He was without a lot of things, a car being the least of those.

  Filipe brought a hand to his chin as he gave Afonso an appraising look. “Well, I’m glad you made it.” He gestured to the floor by the door. “Just leave your things there. I’ll show you later where you can put them.” He turned down the hallway to his right, and Afonso followed him to the first room.

  “This is the music room. Well, it’s an empty room now, but that’s what the original design called for and I tried to preserve that.”

  In the corner, under a cover, the skeleton of a grand piano stood silent. Afonso turned away from it and flexed this fingers involuntarily.

  Filipe glanced in the same direction. “That old piano came with the house, and I still don’t know what to do it.”

  Afonso pretended he didn’t either.

  “I’m nearly done with the interior remodel.” Filipe kept walking and gestured at the door opening as they passed from one room to the next without the connection of a hallway. “The kitchen and bathrooms are all done, and the interiors have all been painted. I’m trying to decide what to do about the decorating.”

  “Impressive work,” Afonso said. The wood floors looked original as well, having been refinished to a polished gloss.

  Filipe pushed the last door, and they entered a room that looked half-lived-in. A heavy mahogany desk sat by one of the windows, and a pair of wing-back chairs and a sofa in dark leather were positioned in front of the fireplace. The wall opposite the windows was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves in the same mahogany, conspicuously void of books. From what he’d seen so far, even without furniture and decoration the mansion was grand.

  “The books are in storage, and I didn’t have the time to unpack them yet.” Filipe gestured around. “So this is the office and library. In case you’re wondering, the built-in shelves are original, but I had the desk made to match. Not exactly my taste but it goes with the house.” He walked to the desk and cleared a pile of papers to the side. “The house sits square with the cardinal points and we still call this side the west wing.” He unfurled a blueprint, tucked the corners under books, and set a solid glass paperweight on the surface.

  Afonso approached and listened to Filipe’s explanations of the house.

  “For the time being, you’ll be working in the areas immediately surrounding the house.” Filipe tapped the paper again. “The road from the gate to the front door needs to be cleared. And the formal gardens require a lot of attention.” He brought a smaller map from under the blue print. “These are the original plans that I was able to unearth in Castelo Branco’s register. There’s an English-type garden with roses and boxwood edges.” He paused and looked up to Afonso. “You do have experience with yard work, don’t you?”

  “I have hands-on experience, but no formal training.” All the summers Afonso had spent at his grandparents’ working on the farm might finally pay off.

  “That’s good enough for me.” Filipe turned back to the map, and Afonso followed along a series of geometric designs with numbers and a key written in a curled script on the margin.

  Filipe slid a drawer open a
nd drew out a tablet. “I hired a landscape designer who outlined each stage of the cleaning and restoration that needs to happen before the new plants come in.” He pushed the tablet into Afonso’s hands, and Afonso swiped the screen as he looked through the color-coded plans. “For now, I decided to start clearing the overgrowth and moving on with some of the smaller projects. It’s all there on the tablet. Of course, you can always call me or send me a text if you have any questions,” Filipe said.

  Afonso raised his head from the screen. He must have missed something. Why would he need to call Filipe? “Won’t you be here every day?”

  Filipe sat on the sofa and indicated the chair to Afonso. “My plans changed. I’m in the middle of acquiring a property by the coast, and I need to be there. As much as I’d like to supervise the garden’s restoration, it’s not as pressing as the other project is. That’s why I need a person I can trust to stay here.”

  Afonso returned the tablet to Filipe. “You do know where I’ve just come from, don’t you?” What exactly had Matias Romano told his cousin about Afonso? As much as Afonso wanted this job, if Filipe wasn’t aware of his past, he would quickly take back his offer.

  “If you’re referring to your recent release from prison, yes, I am aware of that.” He leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee. “Even though I haven’t seen my cousin in a while, we stay in touch. Matias knew I needed someone to take over the grounds keeping, and he recommended you. I don’t know you, but I trust my cousin, and that’s enough for me.” He paused. “We all make mistakes. It’s how we learn from them and move forward that proves our integrity. Do you still want the job?”

  Afonso appreciated that Filipe was direct. “Yes, I do,” he said slowly, trying to tamper his eagerness. Afonso wanted this job more than he remembered wanting anything in his recent life. He would do his best to make sure he was worthy of that trust.

  Filipe spent the next half hour going over a detailed list of each clearing stage, taking the time to answer all of Afonso’s questions about the house and the property. He pulled out two sets of key rings. “This one has the keys to vehicles, including the one to the truck. You’ll need to get supplies from town and haul equipment around the property. This ring has the keys to the house, the detached garage, and the outbuildings. There’s a small house to the east side where the caretakers live. They pretty much came with the property when I bought it, and I didn’t have the heart to kick them out. I restored their house and renewed their contract even though they’re getting on with years and I’d rather they retire.” He glanced at his watch. “I was going to introduce you, but I think they left already. The Silvas are only here between Monday mornings and Friday afternoons, as they spend the weekends at their home in the village. Sometimes they have family who comes by, and then they drive down together.”