by Lynn LaFleur
Alaina laughed. Emma’s enthusiasm was one of the reasons Alaina adored her. “I haven’t even talked to the owner yet.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? I’m ready to start my new job.”
Ever since Alaina had told Emma and her other best friend and housemate, Kelcey Ewing, about her plan to open a bed-and-breakfast in Lanville, they’d hinted about working for her. Kelcey was a whiz with numbers and organization. Emma could create something delicious with little more than flour and water. Yet Alaina worried their friendship would suffer if they went to work for her. She’d rather hire complete strangers than lose the two women who meant so much to her.
“I have an appointment with a local contractor to look at the house at one-thirty to see if it can be repaired.”
“What if it can’t? Will you start looking at other houses?”
“No. It’s that house or nothing.”
“Why? What’s so special about that house? There have to be other houses you can refurbish. Or think about building brand new. That might even be cheaper.”
Alaina hadn’t told her two best friends why Stevens House was so important to her. She hadn’t wanted to say or do anything that might jinx her buying the house. “You know the cost doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, I know, but you need to be reasonable too. You haven’t even met this contractor and you’re going to believe whatever he tells you?”
“Actually, I did meet Rye Coleman.”
“Rye, huh? Sexy name.”
“It fits him. I swear the gods were having an orgasm when they created him.”
“Oh yeah?” Alaina clearly heard the interest in Emma’s voice. Her friend’s radar always picked up an attractive man. “Maybe I should drive down there and help you research that house.”
“I think you’d better stay right there in Dallas and do the job you have now.”
“You’re no fun.” Emma sighed dramatically. “If you won’t let me see the sexy contractor, I guess I’ll go to work. Call me the minute you know about the house. I’ll give my boss notice.”
Alaina winced. “No you won’t. Lanville is a lot different from Dallas, Em. There can’t be twenty-five hundred people in the whole town. No nightclubs, no fancy restaurants, no—”
“I don’t care. I want to help you. Kelcey and I both want to help you. That’s what friends do.”
A lump tightened Alaina’s throat. Kelcey and Emma had been there for her for years, always available any time of day or night. She couldn’t ask for better friends. “You are not going to give up your job in that beautiful restaurant. And Kelcey certainly isn’t going to give up her job that pays a hundred grand a year to work for me. It’s insane for you to even consider it.”
“Maybe I’m sick of the job in that beautiful restaurant. Maybe I want a change, just like you.”
“This would definitely be a change.”
“Hey, you’re talking to the gal who can always find a party. If I can’t find one, I’ll make my own.”
Alaina chuckled. She’d always loved Emma’s positive attitude.
“Go look at the house,” Emma said. “Find out if it really is your dream. Then let me and Kelcey know. I’m already sorting recipes and planning menus.”
“Em—”
“Stop worrying so much. It’ll give you wrinkles. Go meet your hunky contractor. If he’s as gorgeous as you say, you should push him into a corner of that house and attack him.”
“I do not attack men.”
“You need to attack more and worry less. There’s no law that says you have to marry a guy just because you fuck him.”
“I know that.”
“Then let go and have some fun. Forget about the three or four dates you think you should have with a guy before you get naked with him.”
Alaina couldn’t help chuckling. When Emma got on a track, there was no getting her off it. “I’ll think about it.”
“Great! Call me as soon as you know something.”
“Deal.”
Still smiling, Alaina closed her cell phone and dropped it back in her tote. She looked up in time to see Rye slowly drive by her car in a dirty pickup. He nodded his head when their eyes met. She returned the nod and continued to gaze at him as he drove past her. He watched her in his rearview mirror.
Her heart thumped heavily in her chest.
Alaina sat up straighter in her seat. She couldn’t let herself become distracted by a handsome face and incredible body. She’d softened for a moment in Rye’s office, when they’d talked about It’s A Wonderful Life. It had been easy to imagine curling up on a couch in front of a fireplace, wrapped in Rye’s arms while they watched the old movie. Once the movie was over, they’d make love on the carpet in front of the fire. She’d be willing to bet her first year’s profits that Rye was an incredible lover.
It was a nice fantasy, but couldn’t possibly come true. She planned to concentrate on her career and Stevens House. Nothing else mattered. If her hormones didn’t like that, too bad. Men and sex were out.
Including the hunky Rye Coleman.
Chapter Two
April 6, 1937
I overheard the Sullivan sisters talking in the drugstore today. The old biddies love nothing more than to gossip. They were talking about Charlotte Vandorn and her “problem”, as Stella described it. Stella said she’d heard Charlotte was pregnant and didn’t know who had fathered her baby. Sophie said she’d heard Charlotte knew who the father was, but refused to tell anyone. Her parents were so embarrassed, they could barely show their faces in town.
I remember seeing Charlotte two days ago while I watched him. She was one of the women who had avoided looking at him. She’d walked near the edge of the sidewalk, her head down, not making eye contact with anyone. She didn’t even look up when he spoke directly to her.
I wonder if he’s the man who fathered her baby. If so, he is even more vile than I thought.
I have to keep Laura away from him.
*
Rye led the way around the outside of the house with Alaina close on his heels. They didn’t have permission to go inside, so he could only check the exterior for now. They trudged through weeds and cactus that were almost as tall as Alaina’s knees.
“Why can’t we go inside?” Alaina asked once they reached the back of the house.
“Because we don’t have permission and that would be trespassing.”
He heard her blow out a breath. “Who would know? We’re in the middle of the boonies on a dead end road.”
“I would know. I don’t trespass.” He stopped and turned to face her. She almost ran into him since he’d stopped so abruptly. “And you don’t trespass as long as you’re with me.”
A guilty look flashed through her eyes before she lifted her chin. “Of course not. I wouldn’t think of it.”
Rye almost grinned. Alaina May had spunk. He liked that.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Is it worth repairing?”
Hands on hips, Rye studied the back of the house. What little paint remained had faded over time to a dull gray. Several shingles were missing from the roof, leaving gaping holes. Boards had been nailed over broken windows on all three floors and in the turret. Porch posts were split or missing. The back door also had boards nailed across it and hung at an awkward angle from a broken hinge.
It must have been a magnificent house in its time. It would take several months of work, but Rye saw the potential. The house could be repaired to look exactly how it did one hundred years ago.
Despite the large fee his company would make, Rye wasn’t sure if he wanted to do the job. Not on this house.
“You’re looking at a lot of money, Alaina.”
“I didn’t think it would be cheap. But it can be done, right?”
“I’ll say yes, but I’ll know more when I see the inside.”
“Do you know who owns it?”
Rye nodded.
A huge smile spread over Alaina’s mouth. “If you know t
he owner personally, there’s no reason why we can’t go inside.”
She headed toward the porch steps. Rye grabbed her arm to stop her. “Alaina, I promise you, the owner won’t like it if we go in without talking to her.”
“Be real, Rye.” She waved a hand toward the boarded-up back door with the large hole in the bottom. “You think teenagers haven’t crawled through that hole and gone in there to drink or smoke pot or have sex?”
“I’m sure they have. But we aren’t teenagers, Alaina. We’re adults and we know better.”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh, work on my conscience, why don’t you?”
Rye grinned. She definitely had spunk. “I’ll call the owner and find out if she’ll see you. I can’t promise she will. Bella Olinghouse isn’t known for doing favors.”
*
Alaina had always thought “Olinghouse” sounded like the name of someone who was filthy rich. One look at the mansion that Rye pulled up to confirmed her belief. It stood three stories high and made her think of a castle instead of a house. She was surprised it didn’t have a moat surrounding it.
Bella hadn’t lived in this house sixteen years ago. Alaina had learned through her research of the old Victorian that Bella’s husband died from cancer fourteen years ago. Bella must have had this monstrosity built shortly after her husband’s death.
She knew little about the woman or her history. Alaina had been thirteen when she and her mother moved away from Lanville. Her family hadn’t traveled in the same social circles as the Olinghouses and the Stevenses.
Rye had told her on the drive here that Bella Olinghouse was a cantankerous woman who rarely smiled. Alaina had been sure she could charm the woman into selling that house for practically nothing. Now she wasn’t sure. A woman didn’t live in a mansion like this without knowing how to manage her money. She’d probably want a fortune for the old house, even though it looked like it would fall down in the next windstorm.
“It’s nice of her to agree to see me.”
“It’s weird,” Rye said. “I’ve never known her to be so agreeable.” He faced Alaina after parking his truck, his left arm over the steering wheel. “A maid will answer the door. She’ll take us to the living room, where Bella will be sitting on her throne.”
From the twinkle in Rye’s eyes, he had to be teasing. “Throne?”
“It looks like one, I swear. The woman thinks she’s a queen. She won’t stand, she won’t offer her hand. Don’t offer yours ‘cause she won’t shake it. She believes handshakes pass too many germs.”
Alaina couldn’t remember Bella’s age, but she had to be on up in years by now. “How old is she?”
“Late eighties. Maybe ninety. She’s lived in Lanville all her life. Her family owned the bank—and a big percentage of the town—for three generations. She’s still a shareholder at the bank, and still owns most of the buildings downtown as well as a lot of land. The city council jumps at her command. So does the county judge. She’s a powerful woman.”
Alaina appreciated Rye’s warning, but she’d never backed away from anyone. She wasn’t about to start now. She reached for the door handle. “Let’s go have our audience with the queen.”
Rye placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her up the stone steps to the front door. Alaina appreciated his thoughtfulness. She liked everything she’d seen so far about Rye Coleman. He was definitely a gentleman. The fact he wouldn’t go inside the old house without permission proved he was honorable.
She’d almost told him her true identity, but decided to wait. She had to know for sure Rye wouldn’t judge her by something her family had done so long ago.
He dropped his hand from her back when he rang the doorbell. Several moments passed before a very petite, dark-haired woman opened the door. She couldn’t have been much taller than four-ten and appeared to be in her early fifties.
Rye smiled. “Hi, Susan.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
The maid blushed. “You are such a devil, Rye Coleman.”
“I’d marry you in a second, Susan. Just say the word.”
Her blush deepened as she opened the door wider. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“Older women are sexy.”
She shook one finger at him. “You can still be spanked.”
Rye growled playfully and grinned. “That could be fun.”
Susan laughed, then turned toward the left. “Mrs. Olinghouse is expecting you. She’s in the living room.”
He gave Alaina an I-told-you-so look. She bit her bottom lip to keep from grinning.
Rye hadn’t exaggerated when he said Bella Olinghouse would be sitting on a throne. The wide, tall-backed chair with gold and purple accents looked like the perfect throne for a queen. The slim woman with short white hair removed a pair of glasses when they walked into the room. She didn’t smile. She might be in her late eighties, but she was still a lovely woman. She’d be even lovelier if she smiled. “Mr. Coleman,” she said, looking directly at Rye.
She said nothing to Alaina, or even bothered to look at her. Alaina felt like a bug that Bella Olinghouse would gladly order to be destroyed.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Mrs. Olinghouse.”
“You said it was important.” After another moment, she finally turned icy gray eyes on Alaina. “And you are…?”
“Alaina May.”
She closed the book that lay open on her lap and laid it on the table next to her chair. “What can I do for you, Ms. May?”
Alaina noticed Mrs. Olinghouse hadn’t invited them to sit. The woman not only thought she was a queen, she was rude too. But she was the answer to a dream, so Alaina had to be nice to the old bat.
“I’m interested in looking at and possibly purchasing a house you own.”
One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose. “Oh? Which one?”
“Stevens House.”
Alaina thought she saw a flash of fear in Bella Olinghouse’s eyes. It disappeared so quickly, she couldn’t be sure she actually saw it. Mrs. Olinghouse looked at Rye for several moments before she motioned toward the long couch across from her. “Sit down. Susan will be here shortly with iced tea.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Alaina perched on the edge of the couch. She didn’t think the queen would like it if she got too comfortable.
“Why are you interested in my ancestors’ house, Ms. May?”
Alaina glanced at Rye. He sat with his elbow propped on the arm of the couch, his fingers supporting his face. He didn’t return her gaze, but looked straight at Mrs. Olinghouse. His blank expression didn’t give her a hint to his thoughts.
He didn’t have to say anything. Alaina knew he was thinking about the past and how much his family had suffered because of something that happened inside Stevens House seventy-five years ago.
Susan arrived with a tray holding three glasses of iced tea and a plate of shortbread cookies. She set the tray on the coffee table before the couch. After placing two of the small cookies on a saucer, she set it and a glass of tea on the table next to Mrs. Olinghouse’s chair. With a nod toward her employer, she left the room as quietly as she’d arrived.
“The tea is sweetened, Ms. May,” Mrs. Olinghouse said. She daintily broke one cookie in two and nibbled on the half. “If you prefer unsweetened, I’ll have Susan prepare a glass for you.”
“This is fine. Thank you.” She took a sip of her tea to wet her dry throat. Mrs. Olinghouse’s words were polite, but there wasn’t a trace of kindness in her tone. Alaina didn’t think she’d ever been in the presence of such a formidable person.
“You didn’t answer my question, Ms. May. Why do you want to purchase my house?”
“I want to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Do you have any experience running a bed-and-breakfast?”
“No. But it’s been my dream for a long time, and I have a lot of experience in the service industry. I was one of the assistant managers at a large hotel in Dallas until a few weeks ago
.”
Mrs. Olinghouse laid the rest of her cookie back on the saucer. “How are you involved in this, Mr. Coleman?”
Rye leaned forward and clasped his hands together between his wide-spread knees. “Alaina wants to hire Coleman Construction to do the refurbishing.”
“I’m surprised you’d even consider such a thing, after what happened there.”
Alaina saw Rye’s jaw clench, but his face remained expressionless. “What happened there was a long time ago, ma’am. It has nothing to do with what Alaina wants now.”
Mrs. Olinghouse remained silent for several moments before speaking to Alaina again. “I’m not convinced I should sell the house to you, Ms. May. As I said, it’s been in my family for a very long time.”
“And it’s falling down from neglect.”
Alaina swallowed when she saw that eyebrow arch again. She’d probably spoken her mind too quickly. She did that more often than she liked.
She’d gone this far. She might as well go for everything.
“What good is it doing you, Mrs. Olinghouse? It hasn’t been lived in for years. Let me buy it and turn it into something beautiful, something people will enjoy.”
“Why do you want my house, Ms. May? What is so special about it?”
Alaina wasn’t sure how to answer her questions without revealing more than she wanted to. She decided to tell her the truth, or as much of the truth as she was willing to share now. “It’s…a feeling. The first time I looked at it, it called to me. I’m supposed to live in that house, Mrs. Olinghouse. I’m supposed to remodel it and turn it back into the beautiful house it was a century ago. Don’t you want that? Wouldn’t you like to see your family house restored?”
Again, the long silence. Alaina decided perhaps Mrs. Olinghouse needed some time to think about the sale. While she wanted to start the renovations today, even before a contract was signed, she understood giving up something that had been in her family for decades would be hard for the older woman.
“Rye thinks the house can be refurbished with no problem, but he’ll know for sure after looking at the inside. May we have the keys to the padlocks?”