Lacy turned to go but stopped. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m truly sorry about Jeremiah. If I had known you believed he was still your boyfriend, I wouldn’t have run off with him. I thought you two were over.”
“Save it for the choir boys, will you? Your pouts don’t impress me.”
Lacy nodded and a heavy tear burst free. “See you around,” she said, and plodded toward the door.
“Why don’t you go back to Atlanta where you belong,” Annie flung at her back.
Because Atlanta isn’t home. Lacy pushed out through the front door, the sun bright, the air a blanket of warmth enveloping her body. She breathed in deeply, but expelled the breath in a rush of despair. Annie hated her. Pure and simple. She hated her sister, her own flesh and blood, and would never forgive her. Tears flowed, but Lacy wiped them away. She wouldn’t give her sister the satisfaction of hurting her. She wouldn’t let Annie know how desperately she had wanted back into her life.
Plodding to a stop, she looked both ways and waited for a slow moving truck to pass. Lacy had been lonely in Atlanta. Not alone, but lonely. Men were always ready and available, but none were interested in her for who she was, what she had to offer as a person. They only wanted what she could do for them, her manager a case in point. He’d chased her, hired her, but the minute she gave in to his advances, he became expectant. Demanding. She had to play by his rules and his rules only. Lacy crossed the street, her calves contracting tightly as she ran across the pavement in heels.
Well, Lacy Owens played by her own rules. She was the boss of her destiny and no man, no how, was going to dictate to her what she was and was not allowed to do—especially when it came to the attention from other men. How would she ever find Mr. Right if she didn’t entertain their flirtations?
She wouldn’t. Besides, she loved men! Men were bold and daring. They were big and strong. Joy sizzled through her veins. Men were smart. Men would help guide her to her destiny, slide over the rainbow with her and share in the treasure of gold waiting at the other end. Pressing the key fob to unlock her car door, she heaved a sigh. Some man would, anyway. Jeremiah had turned out to be a fool, but that didn’t mean all men were. Where Annie didn’t know he was a two-timing cheat, Lacy did, but she hadn’t cared. The day he asked her to join him on his way out of Ladd Springs was the day she’d believed her life would take a turn for the better. They were going to the big city, the land of opportunity.
Unfortunately, opportunity didn’t always look the way a girl wanted it to look. Lacy dried her eyes, got into her car and drove to her Aunt Frannie’s diner. Time to break the news that her “girls” weren’t getting back together.
Annie hurried out of Trendz, headed down the street to a competing salon, Bangs. She had to talk to her best friend, Candi Sweeney. She would freak when she heard about Lacy, though Annie herself could hardly believe she’d come back. What was she thinking, sashaying her way into the salon where Annie worked, trying to play the role of sweet innocent sister in search of reunion? Was she nuts? Desperate?
And Jeremiah. Nerves shimmied through her limbs. She’d only been bluffing when she told Delaney she was going to call him. Those were words spoken in the heat of anger. Was it possible he’d arrived in town at the same time as Lacy by coincidence? A shudder ran through her. Annie didn’t know, but she was going to find out. Swinging open the entrance door to Bangs, she hurried past the hairdressers, most personal friends of hers, in a bee line for the back. Set up similar to Trendz, the stations lined the walls, the shampoo chairs in the back situated right next to Candi’s chair. But there was no Candi, only a woman sitting in her chair. Was she mixing up color?
“Hey, Annie.” Comb in hand, Ida Shore waved to her. She was a good friend of her Aunt Fran’s and part-owner of the Bangs salon. “How you doing?”
“Good,” Annie replied absently, more concerned with Candi’s whereabouts at the moment.
“She’s in the color closet,” Ida confirmed. “You can go on back.”
Annie nodded thanks and hurried past. Hairdressers were like family. They worked at different salons, but no one held it as a sticking point. Each had their own client list, loyal as hound dogs, and gossip was gossip. Ida would expect her dose of information after Annie’s visit with Candi and wouldn’t mind for a minute that it came second-hand.
Turning the corner, Annie found Candi wearing gloves, plastic bottle in hand, her torso length apron tied securely around her petite waist. As expected, she was mixing up hair color for her client. “Hey, girl! What are you doing here?”
“Lacy’s in town,” she said breathlessly.
Candi’s hands stilled. Chocolate brown eyes became saucers, her face framed by her straight brown hair streaked by wide blonde chunks. “She is?”
“Stopped by the salon less than an hour ago.”
“Oh my God...” Candi sliced the room with a conspiratorial gaze and whispered, “What’s she doing here?”
“Don’t know.” Heartbeats scampered across her breast. “Said she’s here for a visit.”
She gaped. “A visit?”
Of course Candi was horrified. She knew their history. “But get this—” Annie hushed her voice. “She says Jeremiah is in town, too.”
Where Annie expected Candi to fall over dead from shock, instead, she glimpsed a glimmer of awareness dart behind her eyes. It caught Annie on the chin. “Did you know he was here?” she demanded abruptly.
“No,” she blurted. “Er—I mean, not exactly.”
Annie’s insides caught on fire. “Not exactly?”
“Well...” Candi smacked her color bottle down to the counter, then whisked a flat brush through the goopy contents in her bowl. Mixing briskly, she confessed, “I called him, Annie. I called him and told him about Delaney and Felicity and how they were trying to steal Ladd Springs from him.”
Annie took a step backward, as though hit by an unseen force of intense magnitude. “?”
“I had to, Annie! They were stealing the property clear out from under your feet and I had to stop them! You said so yourself, didn’t you? You threatened to call Jeremiah. You told Delaney you’d let him know what she was doing.”
“I told Delaney that I’d call him to scare her, Candi. I never intended to go through with it!
Candi’s eyes rounded—froze—like a deer caught by a flash of headlights. “You didn’t?”
Annie fell against the counter. “I didn’t.”
“Oh, no... I’m sorry, Annie. I was just trying to help and now I’ve made a mess of things! I only wanted you to have a chance to work with Jeremiah, to get the property for Casey. She deserves her part of it and well, you do too, and I...” Candi’s hand fell from the bowl, dropping her explanation like an overheated flat iron. “I thought it would help you and Casey.”
Staring at her friend, Annie thought “mess” was only the beginning of how she’d describe Jeremiah Ladd’s presence in town. He was here. Because Candi called him. Bringing a hand to her forehead, Annie groaned. What must he think? Would he assume that she put Candi up to it? Would he think she did it to force him to claim Casey as his own?
Annie sharpened her focus and latched onto Candi. “Tell me everything you said. Everything, Candi—don’t leave a single word out.”
Chapter Two
Delaney Wilkin's hands trembled as she sat huddled around her kitchen island with Nick Harris and Malcolm Ward, Nick’s partner in Harris Hotels. The piece of paper was one document out of hundreds she’d collected, but it was perhaps the most important one. It was a copy of the title to Ladd Springs—the very same Ladd Springs that she feared might now be in jeopardy. “What am I going to do if Jeremiah comes back and contests Ernie’s life estate deed? What recourse will I have?” She homed in on Nick, hotel developer and the man instrumental in helping her secure title to Ladd Springs for her and her daughter, Felicity. This land was their home, their legacy, but now she and Felicity stood to lose it all.
Because of Jeremiah Ladd. Beca
use of Annie Owens.
Nick smiled, the confidence in his dark brown eyes quieting her angst, much like his dimples. They reminded her of more friendly times, times when her future didn’t hang in the balance. Nick was a man of calm, a man of strength under pressure. From his formidable six-foot-four stature to his determined, steady gaze, he’d know how to make this right. “When there’s a lawyer involved,” he said, “you always have recourse.”
“But what? Jeremiah’s as entitled to Ladd Springs as I am. His father, my mother…” Delaney didn’t want to think about the repercussions of her cousin’s presence, but she had to—she might have to go up against him in court. And while she hadn’t seen Jeremiah since they were teenagers, she remembered one thing about him. One very important thing. Jeremiah Ladd was a man who cared little about the consequences of his actions.
Nick reached over and took the paper from her. Securing her hands within his, he was her rock. Strong. Steady. Fearless. Everything she didn’t feel at the moment. “Don't worry, Delaney. Jeremiah doesn’t have a stake in this claim. Your uncle was sole owner and he signed this property over to Felicity. I intend to see that it stays that way.”
Delaney wanted to believe him, wanted to believe it would happen, that she would keep Ladd Springs, but... She dropped her gaze to the papers strewn about the butcher block surface, a miscellany of warranty deeds, tax bills, any shred of paper bearing the Ladd name that she could get her hands on. She’d collected as much information as she possibly could on the property, dating back to the turn of the century, searching for clues as to how Jeremiah might possibly take it from her. Like a Swiss watch, the hands of time ticked through the line of ownership, recording generation by generation, each and every name a Ladd. But Jeremiah’s name was nowhere to be found.
“I agree with Nick,” Malcolm said. “You’re in good shape.”
Peering at him, Delaney thought his sky blue eyes cradled a gentle intelligence. Wisdom. Malcolm’s appeal was softer than Nick’s rugged, swarthy looks. Malcolm was elegance in the male form, sophistication, grace and aplomb. His tanned complexion was smooth and refined, his body lean, like a runner’s. Add the shock of white-gray hair on his head and you had the yin and yang in men. Black and white. Lion and lamb.
“Challenging a life estate deed is tough,” Malcolm said. “Your cousin would have to contest the validity of the deed, prove that your uncle did not have authority to sign over the property, or that he was coerced in some way.”
Delaney rustled through the papers, as though the answer lay buried within them. “But Annie said it was in the fine print. I’ve read through every document—twice. I don’t see anything written by Grandpa Ladd that says Jeremiah has rights to the property.”
Nick cocked a brow. “It’s not a wonder, the way you Ladds write contracts.”
Delaney assumed he was referring to the deathbed promise Ernie had penned for his sister, Susannah, the one swearing he would give Delaney rights to Ladd Springs. Fear zipped through her stomach. “But Annie said it was here. I’d lose the title because I overlooked the fine print.” She pushed at the papers and said, “I don’t see it!”
“Have you considered the possibility that Annie was bluffing?” Nick asked.
“Bluffing?” Delaney scoffed. Annie Owens was a lot of things, but a poker player was not among them. “She’s not that smart.”
“You don’t care for her much,” Nick observed, a question lingering in his voice. Malcolm seemed interested in her answer as well.
Delaney sat back on a wooden saddle stool, one of four placed around her kitchen island. Pulling a bare-footed heel up to the curved seat, she wrapped her arms around her leg and rested chin to knee. “I don’t,” she said. “Though it’s funny...when we were young, we used to be good friends.”
“What happened?”
Delaney’s mind ripped through the past, their cat fights with regard to boys, the petty jealousy... Jeremiah had been a good-looking, scrappy kinda boy when they were growing up which drew the eye of the girls. Delaney took him for granted. He was her cousin, her constant playmate and the last boy on earth she’d ever be interested in. Jeremiah had been hardened by his father, and the shell he’d built around himself was impenetrable. He’d take risks that would take her breath away, like the time he jumped off a rocky ledge into the river below, not knowing how deep the waters ran before taking the plunge. He could have been killed, but instead broke through the surface with a whip of blond hair and a raging smile. “Your turn!” he’d hollered.
“Not on your life!” she’d told him—on more than one occasion. She’d stick to horse-back riding and mountain hikes and leave the cliff-diving to him.
“Annie had a thing for Jeremiah,” Delaney said. “For as long as anyone could remember, she pined away but he didn’t know she was alive. And if he did, he could of cared less. Until she threw herself at him in high school, that is.”
“And I’m assuming he did what every hot-blooded teenage boy would do,” Nick said.
Delaney nodded. “She gave herself to him and he took full advantage. She claims that Casey is Jeremiah’s.”
“Is she?” Malcolm asked, as if alerted to a new wrinkle in their plans.
With a shrug, Delaney replied, “Who knows? There were rumors she was sleeping with Clem at the time, too.”
“Clem Sweeney?” Nick asked, his demeanor jolted by the revelation.
She looked at him. “Why so shocked?”
“Annie’s a good-looking woman,” he replied, shooting a hand up between them to fend off the distasteful look Delaney fired his way. “Don’t get me wrong, she’s not my type, but Clem?” Nick glanced between her and Malcolm. “The guy is a loser.”
Delaney glared while Malcolm chuckled.
“Annie is average, maybe,” Delaney gave him. “But good taste is not one of her strong points.”
Nick reached for Delaney, but she unfolded her body and rolled off the barstool, ignoring his attempt at appeasement. Annie Owens was the enemy. She was the one responsible for bringing Jeremiah back into the picture, and if Nick wanted to use this property for his hotel, he’d better get his alliances straight. She turned, unsettled by the two men staring at her. Two very handsome men, neither of whom bothered to mask his masculine appreciation. Dressed in tank top and jean cut-offs, Delaney suddenly felt exposed in her minimalist attire. “It’s Annie’s fault Jeremiah is involved,” she declared with a cross of her arms. “I want him stopped.”
“Understood.” Nick gathered her in his sights.
“As I see it, he has two ways to go,” Malcolm said, holding his fingers up. “Jeremiah can challenge the validity of the deed based on procedural error or duress.”
“What does that mean?” Delaney asked.
“Procedural error is just that—something done wrong in the procedure of filing and recording the deed,” Nick explained. “Undue duress or coercion means that Ernie signed the deed over to you against his will.
“But Ernie signed it over willingly.”
“You and I know that, but the judge doesn’t.”
“Jeremiah will have to challenge you in court—or the validity of the deed, that is—and prove that you forced Ernie to sign,” Malcolm said. “But I’ll tell you, reversing a deed is not easy.”
“That’s good, right?” Delaney asked.
“It’s good,” Nick confirmed. “But it doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods yet.”
“I checked with the clerk of the court,” Malcolm continued. “The deed was filed and recorded per the state’s requirements. So challenging you on procedure won’t work.”
“So he’ll have to prove Ernie signed it over under force?
“Yes. And seeing as how he’s of sound mind, I think it will be tough argument.” Delaney and Nick shared a glance that unsettled Malcolm.
When Nick called Malcolm to Tennessee, he never mentioned the possibility they would be embroiled in a firestorm of family dysfunction. Nick said the land deal was do
ne, solid, they were moving forward with construction of the hotel. That’s where Malcolm came in. He was here to walk the land, incorporate his vision for a secluded mountain retreat into the hills and forests of Ladd Springs and get the bulldozers rolling. Legal disputes had not been on the agenda. Emotionally-charged family feuds had not been on the agenda. “He is of sound mind, right?” Malcolm looked from one to the other, a trickle of foreboding raising the fine hairs on his neck. “Ornery, but sound?”
“Well,” Delaney hedged. She nibbled her lower lip.
“Well what?” Malcolm asked sharply.
“Ernie is ill,” Nick said. “He has terminal cancer.”
“Great.”
At Malcolm’s groan, Delaney glanced to Nick. “What? Could they use that against him somehow?”
“If the man is dying of cancer, Jeremiah could most certainly allege that he was coerced, that he was pressured until his defenses gave way and he signed.”
Delaney cupped a hand to her forehead. “Oh no...”
“But you said no one would tell Jeremiah about his father’s illness.” Nick searched her gaze and Malcolm didn’t like where this was going. “That everyone knew the two couldn’t stand each other, that Jeremiah wouldn’t care if Ernie died.”
“That was before money entered the picture,” Malcolm declared. “You know the smell of green changes everything.
“Or gold.” Delaney rushed to Nick. Placing a hand to his thigh, she implored, “We can’t let him find out about the gold.”
“Delaney.” Nick took her hand in his. “He won’t find out about it. And he won’t find out about Ernie’s illness. None of us are going to tell him. Ashley certainly isn’t going to tell him. She was the one prepared to help you get title to begin with.”
“What about your daughter?” Malcolm asked. He’d only met the girl a few days ago, but seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. “Does she know?”
Ladd Fortune Page 2
