Once Upon a Time (The Wacky Women Series, Book 3)

by Day Leclaire

  It was so simple Callie couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it first. Desperation did strange things to a person. She sighed. "Should I grovel yet, or do you have a third point to make?"

  His lips twitched. "Save the grovel. It may come in handy later. In the meantime, third. I have a rule I live by. It's my number one business rule and goes, 'Never be so dependent on something you'll do anything to keep it.'" His expression turned serious. "I believe you compromise your values otherwise. That rule also pertains to people. What if Cory and Donna had become bored with the project? What would you have done then?"

  "I don't know," Callie confessed.

  Now that he'd reverted to old Julian, she felt uncomfortably naked. She tugged the sheet over her while she considered his number one business rule. She didn't like the sound of it. It made her uneasy. Did his rule also apply to his personal life? Was his determination never to be dependent on anything apply to his feelings for her, too? Could this be a subtle warning?

  "If they'd become bored, you'd have gotten someone else, someone better suited to the job," he told her a shade impatiently.

  Gotten someone else? Did he think everyone and everything was replaceable? Callie lifted her chin. "No, I wouldn't, because Cory and Donna have to work for me. It's that, or—"

  Oops. She slanted him a swift guilty look, seeing his eyes narrow in sudden suspicion. Looked like confession time had arrived. Honesty is the best policy, Maudie always said. Best she followed Maudie's policy before he killed her. Callie cleared her throat. "Um, there might be one tiny little detail I overlooked mentioning."

  "Just one tiny little detail?" Julian repeated dryly.

  "Just one." She held up a single finger. Not the finger she wanted to use. She chose one of the more polite fingers. "It's about Maudie's third request."

  His eyebrows shot upward. "Maudie's third request?"

  "Right." She smiled brightly. "The one having to do with Cory and Donna and their being on probation. That one detail."

  "Explain, and fast," Julian ordered.

  Callie swallowed. "Cory and Donna got in a little bit of trouble with the law. Maudie heard about it and agreed to oversee their probation time. So the judge ordered them to perform community service hours by working at Willow's End." She ground to a halt and waited for the explosion. It wasn't long coming.

  Dark red color climbed from his jawline up into his face. "You know damned well you overlooked mentioning that one tiny little detail. The truth is, you were very careful not to mention Maudie's third request. And I have a pretty good idea why. You knew I'd never agree to it."

  She didn't bother to deny the truth of his statement. "I didn't have a choice," she said instead. "I couldn't refuse Maudie. She was dying. And to be honest, Julian, it's not really up to you to agree or disagree. It's my decision. Well, and the judge's."

  "If it's my damn house, it's also my damn decision. Until we find out who owns Willow's End, I have a say in what goes on under its roof." He took a deep breath, struggling to control his temper. "I can sympathize with your predicament, but damn it Callie." He snatched up his jeans. "How long is this probation to last? What are they in for?"

  "It's only for the summer," she temporized.

  He yanked on his jeans. "And their crime?"

  "Destruction of property," she whispered.

  He snapped on the overhead light, causing her to blink in reaction. "Destruction of property!" His jeans gaped in a very distracting manner. His lovely chest also distracted her, especially all of his delightful detours and rumble strips. "You're rehabilitating these two for destruction of property by having them rip apart Willow's End? Is it just me, or is there something wrong with this picture?"

  "You're not going to take this well, are you?"

  He snagged his T-shirt and pulled it on. Bye-bye rumble strips. "You've got that right."

  "Listen, I'm feeling a bit naked here. Would you mind handing me my clothes?"

  "Yes."

  "Julian!"

  He found a few stray pieces and tossed them to her. "Tell me something. Why do you feel the need to take on the entire world's problems, regardless of whether or not you can cope? Not that generosity is a bad quality, but you take a good thing too far. In fact, you're an expert at taking good things too far."

  She disappeared under the covers and wriggled into her panties and shorts, though considering what they'd been doing a short time ago, she couldn't explain the sudden attack of modesty. "If that's supposed to be an insult, you'll have to try harder. I explained about Maudie's requests. I just forgot to tell you about the third one." She emerged a bit more rumpled and a lot more annoyed, to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, her bra and shirt in hand.

  "Convenient memory you have there. What should I do, Callie, stand idly by while you drive yourself into the ground? I can't do that. If you keep overextending yourself, you're going to crash. And I don't want to be the one left picking up the pieces, not if I can prevent it from happening. Even if that means selling the house."

  "I wish you'd stop threatening me with Willow's End," she retorted. "There's no correlation between the house and my helping people."

  "Then, why do it?"

  "What?"

  "Not what. Why. Why do you like helping others?" He didn't give her a chance to respond. "It's because you need to be needed. I'm willing to bet we have Helene to thank for that."

  She snatched her remaining clothes from his hand. "My mother has nothing to do with any of this."

  "Hit too close to home, did I?"

  She made a rude noise and disappeared under the covers again, though she could still hear him. Unfortunately.

  "It explains a lot, when you think about it," he continued. "A mother who abandons you, who moves from place to place and husband to husband, always looking for the perfect life and the perfect love. And overlooking it in the one place it's always been—with her daughter."

  "No." Callie threw back the covers and escaped the bed, struggling to yank her shirt into place. "You're wrong."

  He came after her, backing her toward the bedroom door. "A daughter who learns to give and give and give, in the hope of receiving a shred of the love and attention her mother's always withheld. Think about it, Callie."

  She glared at him. "No, thanks. My mother has nothing to do with anything. I never would have bribed those kids in the first place if it hadn't been for your lists and schedules."

  He braced his hands against the door on either side of her head. "Changing the subject? Good try, but it won't wash. You're grasping at straws."

  She lifted her chin. Changing the subject and grasping at straws were both time honored practices. "My helping people isn't nearly as bad as your stupid timetables. You don't make a move unless it's planned. Next you'll be slotting me into your daily diary. You know. 8:01 to 8:05 a.m.: Kiss Callie."

  "Sounds great to me." He bent his head, his mouth inches from hers. "And just so you know, it's 7:56 p.m. ."

  His lips covered hers and Callie sighed against his mouth, finding she couldn't think, much less argue. Her hands crept up along his chest to his shoulders. For so long she'd dreamed of this, imagined having the right to kiss Julian. Imagined what it would feel like to be held by him, kissed and caressed by him. Now she knew. No dream could match the reality of it. The wonder of it.

  His hand slid up from her waist, grazing her breast, and she caught her breath. They'd made love only a few hours earlier, and yet here she was, hungry for more. As though his thoughts and feelings echoed hers, he shuddered against her.

  Gradually his hold eased and he lifted his head to stare down at her, his gaze dark and impassioned. "Well?" he demanded. "Was that spontaneous enough for you? Or would you like a more graphic demonstration of just how spontaneous—not to mention, creative—I can get?"

  "Okay." She couldn't decide if she was agreeing to the demonstration or agreeing to his being spontaneous. Probably better to skip the demonstration at this point, darn it. "Okay,
so you don't plan everything. But you'll never convince me you can live without your lists and schedules."

  "Think not? There's one way we can find out."

  "Which is?"

  His eyes gleamed. "Care to make a small wager?"

  "A bet?" Callie thought it over and shrugged. "Actually, that's not a bad solution. I'll bet you can't go for one week without a watch, clock, timetable, or list."

  Julian lowered his head, his lips nuzzling the sensitive area just below her ear. "What about my schedules?"

  She fought to speak normally. "It's all the same thing."

  Julian chuckled and released her, allowing her to breathe more freely. "Wait a minute. Don't you want to hear what you'll have to do? You might not be willing to go through with it once you know."

  She fell silent, studying him suspiciously. "What is it?"

  His smile made her nervous. "To win the bet, you have to say no to any and all favors—for one week."

  Callie nibbled her lower lip. "Any and all favors. Just what does that mean?"

  "Precisely what it says. When Suzie Whatsit calls up with some new school project, you have to say no. When Valerie calls up desperate for a babysitter for dear Danny, the answer is no."

  "That's it?" She gave him a cheeky grin. "It'll be a snap. I'll just have Ted come back and cut the phone lines again."

  "Over my dead body."

  "More like over his." She tilted her head to one side. "Why do I feel as though I've been very cleverly maneuvered?"

  "Because you have been very cleverly maneuvered, sweetheart. I'm hoping by taking a week off you'll discover how much you've been overdoing recently." Before she could argue the point, he added, "If you do manage to win, I'll help you complete Maudie's final two requests without complaint or interference."

  She brightened. "Really? I like the sound of that. But what if I lose and you win?"

  "The reverse. You do things my way."

  "Without complaint or interference," she finished for him. And since his losing was practically a given, she permitted herself a pleased little smile.

  He raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I can get by without my lists, do you?"

  Callie shook her head. "No way."

  "Very well, we'll see." He unstrapped his watch and handed it to her. "Here. Though I'll get it back soon enough. You can't go seven minutes, let alone seven days, without caving in and helping someone."

  She made a face at him. "Which is about how long you can go without your precious lists."

  He leaned toward her. "Then it's a bet?" At Callie's nod, he tugged her closer. "Why don't we seal it with a kiss?"

  "But, that would be saying yes." She smiled smugly. "I'm not allowed to say yes, remember?"

  * * *

  The next morning, Julian joined Callie for breakfast. They were late getting started. Probably due to an excess of pizza and creative spontaneity. Who knew Julian could do creative and spontaneous so well? It had made for a fun and exhausting night.

  "Something's come up," he announced without preamble. Grim-faced, he poured himself a cup of black coffee. Then, to her intense pleasure, he tugged her out of her chair and took it himself, pulling her down on his lap.

  He ran a gentle hand across her cheek. "I'm afraid you're not going to like it." His tone of voice worried her. It was serious, very serious, and rough, as though he fought some strong emotion.

  She rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

  His eyes burned with a frightening anger. "My father phoned."

  Normally that information wouldn't cause concern. The very starkness of his words warned otherwise. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. "What did he want?"

  He stared down into his coffee mug, then lifted it and took a swallow of the scalding liquid. "Willow's End."

  "I don't understand," Callie whispered. "What do you mean?"

  His gaze slammed into her. "You know exactly what I mean. I told you this could happen. I explained the urgency of finding Maudie's will. Jonathan's heard it's missing. I don't know where or how he got his information, but at this point, it doesn't matter. He knows. In two weeks he's coming back to claim the estate."

  "Why? What does he want it for?"

  Julian's lips twisted into a cynical smile. "He intends to do just what I suspected. He's going to sell it. His latest expedition is low on funds and selling Willow's End will provide a convenient influx of cash."

  She struggled to control a surge of panic. "No! That's not right. It's not fair."

  She hated the expression in his eyes. It told her all too clearly that right and fair didn't matter. It was a harsh reality to face.

  He held her in a comforting embrace, his hand tangled in her hair. "We could chuck it all. Forget the will. Forget Willow's End." He rested his chin against the top of her head. "I've suddenly discovered something very special in the middle of all this chaos, and I haven't had the time to savor it."

  His suggestion tempted her beyond belief. "Is that what you really want?" she asked tentatively. "To give up?"

  He groaned. "No. As much as I'd like time alone with you, as much as I worry about your welfare, I can't ignore my responsibilities so easily. Maudie's wishes should determine who gets Willow's End, not my father's greed."

  "Then we'd better find the will," she stated matter-of-factly.

  He nodded. "It's our only chance. We might be able to prove its existence, but not even Peters can testify to its contents. He claims she changed it so many times he doesn't know how the final version read."

  "We haven't been trying very hard to find it." She reached for a slice of toast and dabbed butter on it. "Today that changes. When the kids arrive, we'll instigate another treasure hunt. We'll organize it so every inch of Willow's End is covered."

  He laughed, the tension draining from his body. "That's a lot of inches."

  She held the toast to his mouth. "Then you'd better eat. You're going to need your strength."

  He took a quick bite. "You've forgotten something."

  Callie looked at him, puzzled. "What?"

  His eyes held an endearing, mischievous expression. "Our bet started this morning. I can't organize anything."

  She scowled. "That's nasty, Julian. Here we are in dire straits and you're going on about that stupid bet? How petty can you get?"

  "Pretty petty, my sweet." He snatched the final bite of toast from her hand. "I'll leave the organizing to you. It'll do you good. You take care of the lists and assignments and I'll—"

  "You'll what?"

  He planted a buttery kiss on her lips. "Why, I'll obey your every command, of course."

  Callie sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. When he held her like this, kissed her with such overwhelming passion, she could almost forget the threat of losing Willow's End.

  Almost.

  * * *

  Callie waited until everyone took a seat at the dining room table before going through the assignments she'd drawn up for the day. If the success of the project hadn't been so important, she'd have laughed at the bemused expressions on the young faces.

  "Is this for real?" Cory demanded. "You're making up the lists now?"

  "'Fraid so," she said. "We're running out of time. So please do your best. If you find any clue, no matter how insignificant, bring it to us." She handed Julian his sheet of paper. "You're in the attic. It's going to be a waste of time, but you said cover everything."

  "Not to worry. Better we do this logically, top to bottom, than risk overlooking something."

  "I suppose. It's just that Maudie never went up there. She hated it. It's dirty—"

  "No problem."

  "There are all these cobwebs."

  "I can handle it."

  "And the spiders—"

  "Callie!"

  She suppressed a smile. "All right, all right. But, don't say I didn't warn you." She handed the next piece of paper to Cory. "You're in the library."

  "Again?" He groaned. "We just g
ot all those books put away. Have a heart."

  "I do. And it's in this house." She gave Donna her list. "Please notice I jotted down a few suggestions about where to look. Be sure you check those areas in each of your assigned rooms. And remember, Maudie possessed a quirky sense of humor, so use your imagination. I'll be searching the kitchen if you need me."

  "Yes, boss." Cory snapped a salute and stood up. "We'll hop to it right away." He turned to leave the room, nudging Donna as he went. "They think Maudie was strange? She didn't have a thing on these two."

  The day seemed interminable. Callie pulled every last dish from the kitchen shelves. She examined every pot, canister, and bowl, every box, appliance, and cupboard, and found nothing except a bit of dust and an old dog biscuit.

  Late in the afternoon Donna and Cory trailed into the kitchen. "Didn't find a thing," he told her with an apologetic shrug. "Maybe tomorrow."

  "Right, maybe tomorrow," Callie agreed, struggling to sound optimistic. Long after they'd gone she continued to sit in the middle of the kitchen floor. Dishes and pans were piled around her. Looking at them, she considered bursting into tears. Not that it would help. It would just make her feel a whole lot better.

  In need of some doggy comfort, she called to Brutus. The instant he lumbered close enough to hug, she threw her arms around him.

  "Do you suppose Julian's had any success?" she asked. He shook his huge head and she sighed. "Well, it isn't like we're out of places to search. We'll run out of time long before we run out of rooms."

  She'd been so certain the will would magically appear. "Darn it, Maudie, where did you put that will?" Callie demanded out loud.

  "I never thought to try that approach," Julian said from directly behind her. "If she answers, let me know."

  Callie turned, her eyes widening. Dust and dirt covered him from head to toe. "Oh, my gosh."

  "Come now. Can't you think of something stronger to say? How about 'golly gee'?"