by Becki Willis
Sadie took a sudden interest in the ceiling, while Fred studied her shirt pocket.
When Fred finally spoke, her denial sounded quite sincere. “We aren’t telling you a thing, dear. This is your story.”
“Why on earth would we tell you something that could possibly land us all in hot water?” Sadie asked, her wide eyes equally innocent. “I don’t know, mind you, but suppose there isn’t a statute of limitation on the recovery of the gold? Suppose it technically still belongs to the Army. Why, if we made some ridiculous claim about finding that gold and not returning it, it would be almost as if we stole it ourselves.”
“And if you, Hannah, knew about it and didn’t turn us in, it could make you an accessory,” reasoned her sister. “So why would we tell you we were involved in something like that, when it could get us all in trouble?”
“That’s right, dear. And as far as we know, that’s just an old green chest in your room.”
Fred gave a shrug of her shoulders. “And with no proof to back it up—”
“—certainly without a letter, written in Lina’s own hand—”
“—the artwork is just the fanciful musings of a young artist.”
Hannah stared hard at the sisters. One thing still troubled her. “Walker doesn’t know?”
Fred was the one to answer, but she chose her words carefully. “Let’s say Wilhelmina did choose to share personal secrets with him. Not only is it none of our business, but it probably falls under some client confidentiality clause. Why stir up a hornet’s nest? I say ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’”
Hannah refolded the letter and carefully returned it to the envelope. “So, you’re suggesting we keep this between us?”
“Considering everything we’ve just told you, I think it’s best, don’t you?”
Sadie turned watery hazel eyes to Hannah and spoke from her heart. “If Walker ever reads that letter, he’ll come to the same conclusions you did. I have no idea about statutes of limitation, but that boy upstairs is good as gold, and he was a godsend to three old women when we needed him the most. We’ll not risk putting him in the thick of all this and force him to compromise his values, not to save our sorry hides.”
“That’s absolutely right,” Fred reinforced the sentiment. “As far as Sister and I are concerned, the legend of hidden treasure is just that. Legend.”
The Tanner sisters were good women, Hannah realized. Hard working and dedicated, with big, loving hearts. Loyal to a fault. They weren’t protecting themselves; they were protecting Walker.
Hannah realized something else. Coming here, even under such dubious circumstances, had been the right thing for her. Hannah had known these women less than twenty-four hours, and yet, the three of them already shared a bond. It may have been born in crisis, but it went deeper than that. Oddly enough, she felt a kinship with these ladies that she lacked with her own mother. Sharing a secret only cemented that bond.
As crazy as it seemed—ghosts, goats, legends, and all—Hannah could see herself being happy here. Sadie and Fred would be her mentors, and Walker… well, she wasn’t certain how Walker Jacoby fit into her future, but he would definitely be a part of it. Even if he weren’t intricately tied to the town and its trust fund, he wasn’t a man easily ignored.
She heard the lawyer’s booted heel on the stairs now. Hannah slipped the letter out of sight.
“And who,” she said softly, “doesn’t love a good legend?”
Sadie beamed with pride and patted Hannah’s arm. “We’re so happy you were the one to buy our little town, dear. It was a risky move, putting all this history up for auction, but it couldn’t have turned out better.”
“Technically, I didn’t buy the town,” Hannah corrected. “It was my zany uncle, and his idea of a fun birthday present.” She turned her gaze to the window, where she had a glimpse of the ram-shackled buildings beyond. When she first arrived, she thought JoeJoe had lost his mind, gifting her a rundown old town. Now she saw possibilities, and the opportunity of a fresh start.
“My uncle has given me a lot of presents over the years,” she admitted. “I’ll probably never admit this to him—not after some of the stunts he’s pulled—but we’re having a heart to heart, so I can tell you.” She leaned in once again, her voice falling to a conspiratorial level.
“This gift,” Hannah confided, her face softening with an affectionate smile, “may very well be the best one ever.”
Thank you for visiting with us here in Hannah, Texas. We hope you’ll come back soon!
Note from the Author
Thank you for reading my book. I realize that without you, this would simply be a fun hobby. With you, I’m living my dream of being an author.
I know, I hate this part too, because it’s almost like I’m asking you to bring a present to my own party. But if you enjoyed my tale, please take a moment to write a brief review on Amazon, Goodreads, and/or the platform of your choice. Reviews play such a pivotal role in an author’s career. Reviews are how readers find us, how Amazon rates us, and how authors know if we’re writing what you want to read.
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