Sweet Southern Comfort

by Candice Poarch

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Pearl,” Melanie called out.

  In the corner, the grandfather clock striking the hour sounded like an explosion.

  “Lord have mercy. Didn’t know it was so late. Got a million things to do for the Blessing on the Lake on Saturday,” she said. “You all coming, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be there,” Monroe said.

  “I know you’re coming, Melanie. Monroe, see that your grandma gets those clothes right away.”

  Grateful she was finally out of the house, Monroe said, “I’ll take them to her tomorrow.”

  “Just drop off the ones needing laundering at my place and I’ll take care of ’em for you. Don’t take them to the cleaners now. Your grandma likes the sweet smell of the lake breeze in her sheets. You can’t get that in a dryer, so I hung her nightgowns on the line. Help her sleep nights.”

  “I appreciate it.” Although he didn’t know the difference. He’d been brought up on dryers and they worked fine for him.

  Pearl drove off and he had to go back into that room and hope that Melanie had enough tact to ignore Pearl’s reference to his wife. The fact that he was attracted to Melanie made the situation even worse.

  “How is Mrs. Bedford?” she asked when he returned.

  “She’s well.”

  “Give her my regards, please.”

  “I will.” He settled in the Queen Anne chair again. He shifted in his seat so that he was facing her. His gray eyes were flat and cold, and they chilled Melanie to the bone.

  His demeanor wasn’t encouraging for discussing business, especially if she wanted a positive response. Unfortunately, Melanie had no choice but to plunge ahead anyway.

  “I’m here on behalf of the tenants’ association,” she started. “We’re concerned about the group interested in buying Village Square. The tenants have invested a lot in their shops and they’re worried that you’ll sell and they’ll lose their space.”

  “You mean they’re worried they won’t be able to take advantage of these people the way they have my grandmother.”

  “Excuse me?” She struggled to hide her confusion.

  “Yes, Ms. Lambert. I’ve been through my grandmother’s financial records. It didn’t take long to realize she’s getting a mere fraction of the value of those units.”

  “I’m aware of that, but—”

  “Now that I’m taking care of her estate, that’s going to stop. You should be arrested.”

  “What are you talking about?” How dare he! Confusion quickly turned to anger.

  “None of the family was here to look after my grandmother before, but I’m here now. Fleecing senior citizens is old school. I don’t know how you can live with yourself.”

  “I’m not taking—”

  “You may be the princess of Village Square, but you won’t be able to wrap her around your finger any longer.”

  “I haven—”

  “She’s spent a fortune on that complex. And for her to receive a piddling amount in return is appalling. I’m going to go through her records with a fine-tooth comb. And if I find any indication that you’ve cheated her more than you already have, I’ll have you arrested.”

  Seething with rage, Melanie couldn’t sit another moment. She stood and leaned toward him. This person was the evil clone of the man who’d been here weeks ago. It couldn’t possibly be the same man.

  “Mr. Bedford, no one has taken advantage of your grandmother. She agreed to let us pay a reduced rent for two years. This is a small town. It took everything the tenants had to stock the stores. And we opened during the slow season. Your grandmother is giving us time to recoup some of our start up costs before she starts charging full rent.” She took deep breaths to force herself to calm down. It worked only a little. “I know the mayor has been talking to you. He’s been against this development from the start. None of the people in the tenants’ association voted for him. He dislikes all of us.”

  “And with good reason.” Monroe was on his feet, too, and they glared at each other across the coffee table.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve set up the terms of the lease so that she’ll receive every penny she’s owed.”

  “There’s no doubt of that. I’ll see that she’s paid.”

  Melanie poked him in the chest. “You’re making a lot of accusations, mister. Have you discussed this with your grandmother?” Melanie asked. She wanted to rip that smug look off his face.

  “In her state, I’m not going to worry her with business and neither are you.”

  His voice was absolutely emotionless, and it chilled her.

  “If you had discussed this even in a casual conversation, her story would be completely different from the mayor’s.” Melanie sighed deeply. “Look, I’m asking you to wait until Mrs. Eudora is better before you decide. You’ll bankrupt not just me, but the other tenants, as well. If another company takes over and doesn’t renew our leases, or if they charge more than we can afford, it will be a disaster. The locals need every advantage they can get.”

  “No promises. You’ll have my decision after my accountant looks over my grandmother’s records.”

  Melanie nodded. “Contrary to whatever the mayor has told you, we haven’t taken advantage of Mrs. Eudora. She’s a wonderful woman who’s done a lot for this town, and for me. We’re grateful. I’m asking you to keep an open mind. The mayor has his own agenda—and it isn’t for the town’s benefit. Or your grandmother’s.”

  “Save your speech for someone who’ll believe you.”

  “Or maybe someone with a heart,” Melanie rejoined, regretting the words as they left her mouth. Sometimes she spoke before she thought, but fury almost choked her as his harsh words echoed in her brain. Nobody, but nobody, accused her of thievery, or of taking advantage of the elderly. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a thief. You should have had your accountant look things over before you started slinging allegations.”

  “Consider this meeting over.” Monroe motioned for her to precede him to the door.

  Both fear and anger knotted inside her. She opened her mouth, then closed it before she said something else she’d regret later.

  Fire flashed in her eyes as she turned and marched ahead of Monroe. Fire that reached all the way to his center.

  Gravel scattered as she tore out of the yard. Monroe stood in the doorway watching her tail-lights disappear. He still felt the impression of her finger in his chest. She might have the town fooled, but he knew better. He’d forced himself not to watch Melanie’s rigid shoulders or attractive backside, or be enticed by the subtle scent of her perfume. He wouldn’t be swayed by beauty. He knew better than most that beauty could be deceiving.

  Monroe thought about Melanie that Friday afternoon as he hopped out of the truck and joined his farm manager with the rest of the crew in the alpaca pen.

  After his retirement, Monroe’s grandfather had skipped from organic gardening to creating an engine that would run five hundred miles on a gallon of gas. Neither venture had met with success. He’d finally settled on raising and showing exotic animals, namely alpacas from Peru. After his death, Monroe’s grandmother had wanted to sell them, but Monroe had bought them from her. Why, he didn’t have a clue. He’d hired Anthony Carson, a farm manager, to take care of them.

  A couple of the workers hadn’t shown up, and they were seriously shorthanded for the shearing of the alpacas, but the impending work couldn’t keep Monroe’s mind from switching to Melanie.

  He hadn’t planned to reveal that he knew about her trickery, but Mrs. Pearl’s tortuous story had rattled him and, on top of that, Melanie had had the nerve to plead her case. He wasn’t listening to another tale.

  Melanie had seemed so genuine, he thought. The mayor was obviously as fake as the next politician, but Monroe still believed something was shady with the plaza business. But his grandmother hated the mayor and loved Melanie. And she asked about Melanie every day. She’d insisted he bring Melanie and her daughter to visit her. He didn’t k
now how he was going to make it happen. After their argument, he was certain she’d rather crack open his skull than go anywhere with him.

  Monroe began the sweaty work of shearing the alpacas. They hated the heat as much as he did.

  While he helped hold the animal, the shearer sheared the line of belly hair, the legs, below the tail, from the tail to the belly and up towards the front and the spine. Before the shearer completed the animal, Monroe heard laughter. He waited until it was finished and Jewel began gathering the fleece before he glanced up. A pint-sized girl on the back of one of his horses, Rainshadow, was trotting down the path with her flying ponytail peaking from beneath her English hat. She wore jeans with her riding boots.

  The girl and horse sprinted as if they belonged together, as if they were a team. For a moment he stood mesmerized. What would it feel like to be part of a team of anything? Horse and rider approached him and the girl slowed Rainshadow to a walk until they stopped beside him.

  “She’s my little cousin who visits the farm from time to time. Mrs. Eudora doesn’t mind that she rides the horses and plays with the alpacas,” Anthony said. Jewel assisted the shearer on the next alpaca, and Monroe moved away from the pen to the fence.

  “Hi,” the girl called out. Rainshadow sidestepped and she bent over to rub the horse’s side, gently cooing to the horse. “I’m exercising her. She’s been cooped in the stable with no one to ride her.”

  “Mighty kind of you.”

  “I’m Courtney. Are you Mr. Bedford?”

  “I am.”

  “I haven’t been by lately and Rainshadow missed me,” she said proudly. “I couldn’t wait for Friday.”

  Monroe scowled. The skittish alpaca he was holding by the neck had broken away and run to the fence in the far corner.

  “It’s so fun here, but it’s not the same without Mrs. Eudora here. I miss her. How is she?”

  “Better,” Monroe said, thinking the girl was a breath of fresh air, but she needed to stop disturbing them.

  “I have something for her but I haven’t been able to take it to her yet.”

  “Bring it by and I’ll see she gets it.”

  “Will you?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll get my mom to bring me by tomorrow. Can I help shear the alpacas?”

  “No, you can’t,” Anthony said. “Please stop interrupting our work.”

  Monroe needed to find out which Carson she belonged to. Probably one of Milton’s grandkids.

  Anthony frowned at her. “Does your mama know you’re here?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Anthony narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “She thinks I’m at my cousin’s. I’m going over there later after I help with the alpacas and ride Rainshadow.”

  “And how are you going to get there?” Anthony asked.

  “You’re taking me?” she asked with a sheepish smile pretty enough to melt ice. “You’re not shearing Tanya are you?” Tanya was an alpaca she’d named.

  He shook his head. “You’re going to show her at the 4-H fair so she can’t be sheared.”

  “Let me shear Joy, please.” Obviously Joy was another favored alpaca. Did the girl name all the animals?

  “We’re talking about your mama, young lady. I’ll call her and let her know you’re here.”

  The bright smile got even more brilliant as she climbed down from the horse and opened the fence to go inside. Tanya trotted over to her and she hugged the animal. “Thanks, Anthony. You’re not going to sell Tanya are you?” she asked Monroe.

  “Mrs. Eudora said not to,” Anthony said, “but Monroe has the final word. Tanya belongs to him.”

  Courtney turned imploring eyes on him. “Please don’t sell her. She’s wonderful. Her coat is beautiful. Just look at it. It’ll make beautiful sweaters one day.”

  “We’ll see,” Monroe said. It was mischievous heartbreakers like her that made him wish he and his wife had had at least one child during their short marriage.

  Anthony flicked the child’s ponytail. “Go ride Rainshadow some more. I’ll help you with Joy later on.”

  Monroe threw a stern glance at Courtney. “I guess you expect to keep Joy’s fleece?”

  “Yeah.” Her brilliant smile filled his heart with pleasure.

  She mounted her horse but stayed to watch the shearing.

  “What’s this I hear about you charging to help classmates with their math?” Anthony asked.

  “Our math teacher is the worst teacher I ever had. But I can follow the book so I help the other students.”

  “For a price.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a job.”

  “Somebody told me you charge the Hickses double.”

  “I’m a Carson. Uncle Milton said I should have charged them more.”

  “That’s my girl! But your mama wouldn’t like it, so let it be our little secret.”

  Monroe scoffed. “What’re you doing? Teaching them to feud from the cradle?” No wonder the feud was still going on.

  Chapter 3

  College kids on their spring break were driving down the coastline to the Florida, Carolina and Georgia beaches, and all day the bookstore had hummed with customers. Melanie had scheduled both of her part-time helpers and they’d worked with only short breaks. She didn’t allow herself the luxury of a break. It was now nine-thirty and she hadn’t had a bite to eat since breakfast. It was time to close up shop.

  Melanie ran out the door at the same time as Gail.

  “Hi, Melanie. I thought my shop was the last one to close.”

  “I don’t think anyone closed early,” Melanie said.

  “Where’s Courtney?”

  “Girl, my heart had nearly dropped to my stomach when Anthony called earlier to tell me Courtney had shown up at the Bedford farm after school, riding down the lane with Rainshadow, no less. Evidently Monroe hadn’t been there. He’d have tossed Courtney off his property.”

  “You still angry with Monroe?” she asked.

  “Not even Scrooge would be mean to Courtney.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. Someone should give him and the mayor a one-way ticket on a train heading North. He’s no good for the town.”

  “Somebody should run against him,” Melanie said.

  “Why don’t you? You’d make a great mayor.”

  “I don’t have time. Besides, it’s just the excuse my ex will need to accuse me of not spending enough time with Courtney, or that I’m an unfit mother.”

  “Like he has room to talk. We’ll talk about it later. I’m running late.”

  “Hot date?”

  “The first in many months.”

  “Have fun.”

  Lakeside Diner had been a fixture in Summer Lake for as long as Melanie could remember. She glanced at the rows of cars parked in the diner’s lot, only a few short steps from the plaza. From the looks of it, she was going to have a long wait, but it was getting late and she didn’t feel like cooking.

  Opening the restaurant door, the tiny bell rang. The frazzled hostess didn’t even look up. Some of the pictures of lake scenes that had graced the walls for decades had been replaced by newer prints. And although the seats and tables were old and scarred, the atmosphere was full of vitality.

  “Sorry, it’s a zoo. Table for one?” the hostess asked. When Melanie nodded, she said, “There’s a half hour wait. Why don’t you go to the bar and order a drink. You look like you need one as badly as I do. I’ll come get you when your table’s ready.” Lakeside didn’t hand out fancy pagers like the city restaurants.

  Five minutes later, Melanie closed her eyes with the first cool swallow of a margarita easing down her parched throat. She lived for moments like this, she thought as she watched the youngsters horsing around at a table next to her. They waved and she waved back. She recognized the ones who’d stopped by her store earlier to buy books and a surprising number of figurines. She loved the energy. Energy meant business. More business meant profits.
>
  She’d just taken her second sip when the hostess rushed over.

  “Melanie, be a doll will you? We only have one table available right now. No telling when you’ll get one, but Monroe Bedford said he’d share his with you. We’re asking the locals to share because we have a mile-long line outside. Looks like a hundred cars just pulled in.”

  The last person Melanie wanted to share a table with was Monroe. But she didn’t want to stand over a hot stove, either.

  Drink in hand, she followed the hostess to the table with as much enthusiasm a trip to the dentist would bring. Scowling, Monroe stood when she sat.

  “Do you ever smile?” she asked, still miffed at his accusations.

  His scowl deepened, if that was possible.

  “Guess not.” She snapped the menu open. “Maybe I’ll order a Coke. The fizz will help with indigestion.”

  “You could always wait another hour for a table.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Look, we can try to get along for the space of one meal.”

  I don’t think so. “How is Mrs. Eudora?”

  Frustration flickered across his face. “Asking about you.”

  She bet that annoyed the heck of out him.

  “I’ll visit her tomorrow, then. With your permission, of course.”

  Ignoring her sarcasm, he said, “I’ll take you. And your daughter. She wants to see both of you.”

  She stared at him, startled and surprised. Sit in a car with him for forty-five minutes. I don’t think so. “What did Mrs. Eudora do to get you to change your mind? Threaten to disown you?”

  He glowered at her, then focused on the menu.