by Lynn Emery
“Y’all take care now. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.” Lawyer Claiborne pulled a business card from his inside jacket pocket. He placed the hat on his head.
Neva stared at the card then up at him. “Thanks. We have an attorney, Graydon Coates.” Graydon was another cousin who had his practice in Baton Rouge. But she was sure Hollis Claiborne knew this, and more.
“Ah, not legal advice.” Lawyer Claiborne looked around at the landscape. “As you know, my family has done quite well in these parts. Your grandmother tell you how profitable this land is?”
“The lumber brings her a good income,” was all Neva would say.
“Indeed.” Lawyer Claiborne’s thin lips lifted slightly at the corners. “But it could bring in much more. So much that you wouldn’t have to work long hours at the Fish Shack.”
“I don’t think–”
“A lovely young woman like you should have all the time in the world to indulge herself.” Lawyer Claiborne put just the right inflection in his voice to issue an invitation.
Neva had no intention of accepting it. She wore stiff smile. “Don’t concern yourself, Mr. Hollis. We’ll make out nicely.. Thank you for stopping by.”
He dipped his head with a smile, gracious in defeat. “Not at all, Miss Neva.” He sauntered to his Cadillac the color of rich crème and got in. The sound of the engine purred as he drove away.
Neva went back inside. She slid the locks home with force. When she went back into the living room, Mama Jo was munching on a cookie slowly. “Mama, what was that about?”
“Don’t give that no thought, baby.”
“He hinted we could make a lot of money if we throw in with him.” Neva kneeled down next to her grandmother.
“Ain’t likely they tryin’ to help us get rich.” Mama Jo patted the twisted bun of gray hair at the back of her head.
“Then what is he talking about.” Neva waved the business card he’d given her. “I don’t doubt he’ll call me again.”
Mama Jo sighed. “I don’t want you takin’ all this on your shoulders. I’ll deal with them as always.”
“But, Mama–”
“You been my little baby. So carefree, dreaming up all kinds of lovely things.” She brushed knarled fingers over Neva’s hair.
“I’m not a little baby anymore. So tell me,” Neva said in a firm voice. She sat down in the chair next to Mama Jo again. “I’m listening,” she persisted when Mama Jo seemed about to make another attempt to put her off.
“After the Civil War Dub’s great grandmama got land. Part of Oak Villa Plantation. Lilly was one of their slaves. The old mistress left it to her.”
“Yes, I know. Folks say she put a spell on them.” Neva had not thought about the old legend in years.
“Miz Claiborne’s grandchildren tried to snatch it back. But their uncles on both sides told ‘em they best let it alone.” Mama Jo wore a crafty smile. “Said it was proper and legal.”
“Strange they let prime land like go so easy.” Neva had never understood how Sterlings had held onto the land.
“Most plantations were ruined by the end of the war. Bottom fell out of cotton market. Didn’t make no sense to put up such a fuss. An’ old Master had said the same in his will. Sides, it was only twenty acres out of over three hundred more they had.”
“Even so...”
“You wanna hear this or not?” Mama Jo raised her dark eyebrows.
“Sorry. Go on.” Neva clamped her lips together.
“Anyways, since then it’s been like Claiborne family tradition. Every generation has tried to get that land back.”
“How long has Mr. Hollis been after you to sell?”
“Dub wasn’t hardly in the ground yet and here he came circling like an old buzzard. I told him no, just like Dub had for all them years.” Mama Jo braced both hands on the chair and pushed herself up. “That’s all there is to that.”
“Looks like they’re not going to give up.” Neva thought of proud Marian Bellows “Miss Marian likes to have her way.”
“She’s gonna have to get used to not gettin’ her way this time.”
Neva stood close to Mama Jo. “Have they given you any trouble?”
“Nothin’ me and Dub ain’t been able to handle, baby.” Mama Jo gave a chuckle. “They tried a few tricks, but we outsmarted ‘em every time.”
“Tell me about those tricks,” Neva said.
“Maybe later. Right now I wanna watch television. One of my favorite western movies is comin’ on.”
“All right.” Neva picked up the tray. She watched to make sure Mama Jo was walking without trouble with her cane before heading into the kitchen.
Despite Mama’s confident words, Neva had a feeling that the stakes were too high for Hollis Claiborne or Marian Bellows to give up.
***
“This is ludicrous, Mother!” Ted Bellows tossed down the rest of his brandy. “Let’s just do what we’ve done before.” He crossed to the antique bar.
The informal sitting room was used by the family for intimate gatherings. A portrait of them hung above the marble fireplace. It was done by a artist in New Orleans and showed the family dressed casually. William Edgar Bellows stood with his hand on the back of a small divan in which a younger Marian sat. Next to her was Katherine, her long blonde hair swept back making her look severe for a young woman of twenty. Clinton and Ted, both in their early teens, stood on either side of their mother. Within eight years of the portrait being completed, William had died of a heart attack at the age of forty-five. Another painting with them all in formal dress hung in the ornate and large living room.
Clinton Bellows shot his older brother a look of irritation. “I hate to agree with him, but he’s right. There is some dispute over the land boundaries and how they got that property. You know Judge Kleiner will rule for us.”
Marian Claiborne Bellows sat straight and regal on the Queen Anne sofa. Her smooth skin made her looked at least ten years younger. At fifty-two she was still a handsome woman, though she would not take that as a compliment. She wanted to be called beautiful, not handsome like a horse. Indeed her face had a long equine look to it. Not that anyone dared say such a thing to the socially and politically powerful widow at this stage of her life.
“No, that isn’t the best way to approach this problem,” Marian said. She glanced at her cousin.
“Uh, I agree with your mother.” Hollis Claiborne nodded slightly. “I think there are other methods we can use.”
“Hell, we’re losing thousands of dollars a month playing nice-nice with those people,” Ted burst out. “If you’d let me handle it–”
“You’d foul it up as usual,” Clinton cut him off with a look of amused contempt. Only two years separated them in age, but a wider gulf was between the brothers.
“Shut up golden boy,” Ted snarled. “How about that fiasco with Wassman Industries. You’re hanging on to that cushy job by a thread.”
“Nonsense, they’re sending me to Japan next month to handle a delicate negotiation.” Clinton brushed a bit of lint from his Tommy Hilfiger jeans. “I’m still on top.” He smiled at his brother though anger sparkled in his eyes.
“Enough. And Ted, you don’t need another drink,” Marian said in a sharp tone. Ted huffed but put the cut crystal bottle down. “Neither of you will be involved in this. Hollis and I will see to it.” She pressed manicured finger tips to her temples. “I just wish your sister was here. Katherine would know what to do.”
“Kate doesn’t know everything,” Ted said with a whining note in his voice. He sounded more like a peevish ten year old than a man of twenty-eight.
“She knows a lot more than both of you put together,” Hollis murmured with his back to them as accepted another mint julep from the housekeeper. “Thank you, Sarah.”
“Ah yes, Kate will once again save the day.” Clinton wore a strained look to his good humor at the mention of his formidable older sister.
“When she finish
es her charity auction, she’ll be back home. She can help Hollis examine our legal options.” Marian smoothed back her ash blonde hair. “Now Hollis and I have other things to discuss.”
Ted and Clinton wore annoyed looks at being dismissed like children. Yet they knew better than to argue with their mother. Sarah came in before they shut the door to the study behind them.
“Y’all need anything else, ma’am?” Sarah said.
“No, thank you. Sarah, be sure everything is ready for the luncheon before you leave. Mama and Mother Bellows are such sticklers for things being proper.” Marian raised an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, Miz Marian. Don’t want them two upset again, do we?” Sarah gave an impish chuckle. “Evenin’ Mr. Hollis.”
“Oh, and did the boys leave?” Marian said. She gave her long time employee a significant look.
“Mr. Ted peeled outta here in that sports car of his and Mr. Clinton is on the phone in library.” Sarah nodded slowly then left.
“Still got Sarah as your accomplice, eh?” Hollis gave a short laugh.
“Just making sure we’re truly alone.” Marian beckoned for him to sit next to her. “What do you think?” she said in a confidential tone.
“Josephine Sterling is a sick woman from what I hear. This last time she went to the hospital was worse than the first two.” Hollis settled back against the cushion back of the sofa.
“Yes, yes. I know all that from Sarah. But do you think we can bring pressure on the girl?” Marian was impatient.
“Neva? She seems devoted to Miss Jo, likely to follow her lead from what I could see.” Hollis rubbed his jaw in thought. “Very alike those two, I’d say.”
“And the other one?” Marian gazed at him steadily.
“Ms. Desireé Sterling Darensbourg is a different matter altogether. She’ll go for the money.” Hollis took a sip of his drink.
“What about Miss Jo’s sons? Surely they figure into this.
Hollis shook his head. “Roy Sterling has his own businesses to look after. James is pretty much the same. No, Miss Jo seems to have made it clear that Neva will become her heir.”
“Interesting that a young woman, not one of the grandsons, will get control.” Marian lifted a shoulder. “But then my Katherine has more business sense than either of her brothers.”
“The other grandchildren have gotten gifts. But there again, they are successful in their own right. One is said to be a millionaire, all from real estate and mutual fund management in Ohio.”
“Then they won’t interfere?” Marian frowned at this news.
“They have no interest from what I can tell. More importantly, they have no contacts in Louisiana.” Hollis smoothed the front of his oxford shirt. A tiny emblem of his college fraternity was embroidered on the chest pocket.
Marian studied him for a time. “You seem to have your finger on the pulse of that family.”
“It helps to know your opponent.” Hollis did not look at her.
“Yes, you’ve certainly done your part.” Marian lifted both arched eyebrows high.
Hollis looked at her with a satisfied smile. “Don’t I always?”
“I assume all this hard work means you have a plan.” Marian seemed not to share his good humor.
“I’ll say it again, Marian. We’re playing a dangerous game with these people. If they find out–”
“They haven’t in all these years. Only a select few of our family know. Thank God I can pass it on to Kate.” They both glanced up at the oil painting of the young woman.
“How can we be the Sterlings don’t know?” Hollis looked uneasy for the first time.
“One of them would have used it against us by now,” Marian said in a caustic voice. “My father did manage to get back five acres from George Sterling remember. They wouldn’t have allowed it if they’d known.”
“Still caution is the best way. Just be sure to keep a tight rein on Ted.” Hollis shifted his gaze to the younger boy in the picture. “We both know how he can be.”
“Yes, he does try too hard.” Marian was loathed to admit any failing even in her most troublesome offspring.
“Hmm,” Hollis breathed out with admirable restraint at her understatement. “
“You just see to it that Neva Ross is dealt with properly.” Marian wore a look of steel. “Nothing to draw attention, just pressure applied in the right place at the right time.”
Chapter 4
Neva rubbed her irritated eyes. She’d been staring at the computer monitor too long. It was nine o’clock on a Sunday morning and here she was working. Mama Jo, a faithful member of the Sweet Home Baptist Church for sixty years, had fussed at her.
“Don’t start makin’ excuses to skip Sunday service, girl.” Mama Jo had scolded her earlier.
Yet Neva had stood her ground. There were just not enough hours in the week with the store open to do all the paperwork required. Neva sighed with relief at entering the last of the sales tax calculations for the last quarter. Thank goodness for this software program. Hopefully in another six months, she could afford to hire a good accountant to take most of this burden from her and Lainie. Neva was engrossed in setting up for the end of the year inventory when the ringing phone startled her. Glancing at the wall clock, she was surprised to see it was now ten fifteen.
She lifted the receiver and was about to speak when a welcome deep voice spoke first.
“I’ve got a boat and a cold lunch packed in the cooler. Both have your name on them. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes,” Chandler said.
“I haven’t finished,” Neva said with a laugh.” Her protest was half-hearted since she was delighted to hear from him.
“Okay, I’ll give you ten minutes to wrap it up. It will only take you five minutes to drive home, so I’ll see you there in half an hour,” Chandler said in a serious tone.
“Hold on now–”
“You’re wasting precious time, the clock is ticking,” Chandler broke in. “I can’t wait to see you again,” his voice dipped low, almost a rumbling purr.
Neva caught her breath. His voice sent out a palpable sensuality that snaked through the receiver and straight through her body. “I’ll be there,” she murmured.
“Bye.” Chandler hung up.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She even had a few moments to spare so she made sure the cash register was programmed correctly. Still Neva kept looking at her wrist watch. With one last glance at the neatly arranged office, she headed for home.
“Ha, I beat him here.” Neva dashed from her car and into the house. “Hi, Mama. Hey, Stacy.”
“Hey, girl.” Stacy, the other home health aide that came regularly to care for Mama Jo, waved without taking her eyes from the romance novel she was reading.
“What’s gotten into you?” Mama Jo glowered at her. “Sunday is for quiet reflection, for rest.” She held her open Bible in her lap.
“Chandler is coming over,” Neva called over her shoulder.
She headed into her bedroom. With quick motions she brushed her thick hair. Staring at herself critically in the mirror, she decided to put on more bronze lipstick. A knock and the sound of Chandler’s voice a few moments later set her pulse skipping again.
“Don’t rush out there like a giddy sixteen year old.”
Neva took a deep breath to compose herself. With deliberation, she slipped a slim comb and the small tube of lipstick in her denim jacket pocket. She added several folded bills remembering Mama’s advice to always have her own money on a date.
“Now I see why you flyin’ through here like a red bird,” Mama Jo said from the door of Neva’s bedroom.
She leaned against the frame with a knowing expression.
“It’s rude to keep someone waiting,” Neva replied with studied nonchalance. She stood in front of the full length mirror on her closet door and arranged her shirt. “But I’ll be ready in a few seconds.”
Mama Jo came inside the room and sat down on the chair in front of Neva’s vanity
table. “Who you foolin’? I ain’t that old I don’t remember a young gal’s games.”
“What do you mean?” Neva tugged at her jeans as though making sure they fit just right.
“Don’t worry, you done let enough time pass so he won’t think you too hot to see him.” Mama Jo snickered at the cutting look Neva shot her way.
“I don’t play games anymore, Mama. I stopped that when I was fifteen.” Neva stuck out her chin with dignity. “Now if you’ll excuse me...” She waited for Mama to stand.
Mama Jo walked slowly toward her with a sly smile. “He’s the one. I can tell.”
“He’s nice, but we just met.” Neva tried to maintain her equilibrium. Mama’s words had a powerful effect even so.
“Humphf,” Mama grunted in dismissal. “This Mama Jo you talkin’ to, baby. You might have ups and downs, but he’s the man. I see it clear as day.”
Neva felt a cool tingle up her back at the certainty of her words. “Now Mama, stop that. Chandler and I have only seen each other a few times.”
“This your fourth date in the last two weeks,” Mama Jo put in quickly.
“Keeping count are we?” Neva glanced at her with slight annoyance. “Anyway, don’t put too much into it. I intend to take time and look around so to speak.”
“If you say so. Humphf,” Mama said with another chuckle.
“What does that ‘Humphf’ mean?” Neva put both hands on her hips.
“Nothin’.”
“No, you’ve got more to say.”
“Uh-uh, I’m through with it, Miss Sassy. You know everything,” Mama Jo said waving a hand in the air. She walked past Neva with an impish glint of laughter in her black coffee eyes.
“Fine.” Neva was exasperated. Mama Jo had the last word even when she stopped talking.
When they entered the living room, Stacy had abandoned her novel to chat with Chandler. She looked positively captivated. Small wonder Neva had to admit. Chandler was dashing in a soft cotton shirt of forest green, gold and blue plaid tucked into faded blue jeans. All six feet four inches of him exuded masculine power. That he was muscular showed even beneath the clothes with well defined biceps and sturdy thighs. His skin, like the color of hot cocoa, was clear and inviting.