DECKED OUT IN riding gear and a velvet helmet, Jenny cantered past Wade. Her eyes darted briefly from the dressage course to her father’s face to see if he was paying attention to her ride.
Concentrate, man, he said to himself. Forget about what just happened in the attic and think about the constructive comments you’re going to give your daughter after she finishes the course.
As if I know anything about English riding, he thought. Keep your heels down, your eyes straight ahead, your back straight. He could tell Jenny that much. Her trainer was being paid to fill in more information.
If Jenny hadn’t called up the stairs, Wade would definitely have intensified that kiss with Meg. He’d been thinking about doing just that since he’d burst into the house to save her from Mr. Cuddles last night. As it turned out, Meg didn’t need saving at all, but it made him feel like something of a hero at the time. And after what happened to his wife back in Brooklyn, Wade needed to feel he still had some hero potential. Despite Meg’s outwardly confident demeanor, and her obvious frustration over his claim to the house, he sensed that she needed someone on her side.
He leaned on the fence rail and forced his gaze to follow his daughter’s progress around the oval track. But his mind refused to leave the Ashford attic. If he’d really and truly kissed Meg, it would have been the first time in over two years since he’d kissed a woman, and more than twenty years since he’d kissed anyone other than his wife. He wondered for a split second if a man got out of practice at that sort of thing.
“Hell, no,” he said out loud, “though when you got the urge to start the juices flowing again, you might have picked a woman who didn’t present quite so many complications to your life.”
Yeah, hooking up with Meg Hamilton in any way would be a mistake. A smart man wouldn’t have anything to do with a woman whose appearance in Mount Esther was creating a major roadblock to his future. And Wade was a smart man, most of the time.
And so, when he went back to Ashford House that afternoon he told himself he should be relieved to discover that Meg wasn’t home. He let himself into the house, went up to her bedroom, and fixed the screen in the broken window just as quickly as he could.
And it was probably a good thing that the next day was Mount Esther’s once-a-month Festival in the Square. With half the population of the county converging downtown to eat strawberries and listen to live country music, he knew he’d be on duty all day without any time to tend to his chores at Ashford House. And then Monday he’d head straight for his real estate agent’s office and try to get one mess straightened out. At least the mess about who had the better claim to his house.
MEG WOKE EARLY on Sunday morning to a steady humming in her ears. She opened her eyes and found herself face-to-face with Mr. Cuddles, who had apparently decided her warm body deserved an enthusiastic purr. She pulled her hand out from under the blanket and stroked the cat’s head. “At least you’re good for something,” she said, reflecting on how she’d searched the house the day before for a simple wind-up alarm clock. Amelia must have thrown out all the sensible clocks when she ordered the space-aged model that sat by Meg’s bed with its digital numbers still blinking 12:00.
She was dressed and ready to tackle auction preparations by seven-thirty. Unfortunately her heart wasn’t in the project. Neither were her thoughts which kept returning to the attic again and again. It didn’t help that the newly repaired window in her bedroom reminded her that Wade had been in that very room sometime late in the day on Saturday when she was at Shady Grove.
Aware she was procrastinating, Meg took a cup of coffee to the parlor and sat by a front window that looked over the driveway to the house. “I would have figured Wade Murdock for an early riser,” she said aloud. “And I would have thought that knowing another window needed fixing would have sent him scurrying over here with the sunrise.”
Berating herself for giving in to a totally unproductive interest in Wade’s activities, Meg went to the dining room and picked up the clipboard she’d left on the table the night before. She thumbed through the blank consignment forms she’d prepared on her aunt’s old manual typewriter and began listing items to be sold. After a few minutes she went into the kitchen and looked out a window that faced the barn. No patrol car. No man with a wheelbarrow. “You don’t suppose he purposely waited until I was gone yesterday to fix the bedroom window?” she asked Mr. Cuddles who had jumped on the counter.
It didn’t seem like something Wade would do. So far, he’d displayed the most irritating confidence, even knowing that their dilemma could cost him twenty thousand dollars. Surely he wouldn’t avoid her now just because he’d nearly made a mistake and kissed her. Meg confided once more in the cat. “Whatever his reason for not coming here today, it’s just as well. I have plenty to do without dealing with him.”
By ten o’clock Meg had removed items from her aunt’s china cabinet and listed each dainty knickknack on a consignment form. She’d only stopped once in the middle of making her inventory to go to the veranda and water the sadly neglected flowers in all twelve hanging baskets. Of course while she was nurturing the plants, her attention kept wandering to the traffic passing on the little used county road. There were more cars than usual this morning. And not one of them was an official sheriff’s vehicle.
Putting off the auction preparations once more, she walked to the mailbox at the end of the path and took out Saturday’s delivery which consisted of more catalogues and the weekend edition of the Mount Esther Tattler. Meg unfolded the thin paper and immediately noticed a banner headline notifying residents of a strawberry festival to be held in town that day. Wade must be working at the festival.
Satisfied at last that she’d come up with a logical explanation for Wade’s absence, Meg decided to call her house in Orlando to get details of last night’s auction from Jerry.
He answered on the first ring, his voice alert and animated. When he realized his sister was the caller, his enthusiasm deflated and he spoke in a whisper. “It was a good auction. Everything went well,” he told her. “I’ll call you later with the details.”
“Where’s Spencer?” she asked.
“He’s here. I’ll have him call you back.”
“No. Put him on. I want to talk to him.”
Jerry hesitated, then said, “Well, okay. Just a minute.” He put the receiver down and Meg could hear his footsteps on the kitchen floor. Then in a conspiratorial voice which Meg was certain Jerry didn’t intend for her to hear, he said, “Hey, Spence, there’s a woman on the phone for you. I think it’s your teacher.”
Meg’s instincts went on full alert. Jerry was up to something—again.
“Uh…hello?”
“Spence, it’s Mom.”
“Oh, hi.”
“What’s going on?”
“You know. The usual. How’s everything up there?”
“Fine. Why did Jerry say your teacher was on the phone?”
Spencer chuckled, a sound that came across as forced. “He was fooling around. Can I call you back? It’s really not a good time…”
Anger was replacing Meg’s previous alarm. “Sorry, but it is a good time for me. I know something’s going on. I can hear voices in the background. Who is Uncle Jerry talking to?”
She had to struggle to hear Spencer’s next words. It sounded as if he’d cupped his hand around his mouth and the telephone. “He’s talking to a girl. Uncle Jerry and I are kind of playing this game. We met this lady named Mary Beth, and she kind of believes that he’s taking care of me.”
“He is taking care of you…isn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. He’s doing a great job. But this girl thinks my mom sort of left me for good, and he’s…”
Meg’s grip tightened painfully around the telephone. “What?”
“Don’t worry,” Spence said. “It’s all okay. See, this girl is really hot… I mean she’s really nice. She likes me, and she likes Uncle Jerry.”
Meg collapsed into a kit
chen chair. “Put Jerry on the phone!”
“He’s sort of busy. I can have him call you back.”
“Now, Spencer!”
Her son hollered, “Uncle Jer, my ah, teacher, wants to talk to you.”
“I’ll take it in the bedroom. Hang up out there for me, buddy.”
A minute later he picked up. “Now, Meggie, don’t blow a cork—”
“What the hell is going on?”
“I met this girl. I told you about her, remember? She consigned a bunch of stuff to the auction and we made a great profit on it.”
“I don’t care about profits now, Jerry. I want to know why you told her that Spencer doesn’t have a mother.”
“I didn’t tell her that. I said he has a mother, but that you sort of ran out on him.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, no. Relax. I’m going to tell her the truth. She saw Spence in the auction hall and thought he was this adorable little kid. She loves kids. She just assumed I was his guardian. I never told her I was.”
“You just let her believe it?”
“It’s not all bad. It makes me look good. And it’s good for the auction. And I’m going to tell her the truth. Maybe today after we get back from Disney World.”
“You’re going to Disney World with her?”
“We’re taking Spence. He’s all excited. Mary Beth is the sweetest, most generous…you’d really like her. She runs this charity….”
“I may have to kill you, Jerry.”
He laughed, but at least it was a nervous little rattle, as if he were truly considering that the threat was real.
“If anything happens to my son…”
“It won’t. The kid’s having the time of his life.”
“Sure he is. Telling a lie that his other parent has run out on him must be boosting his self-esteem to new heights.”
“I thought about that, but he’s okay with this—really. I’ll call you as soon as we get back from Disney. You’ll see that everything’s okay. And when you hear how much money we made last night you’ll thank me.”
“No, I won’t thank you, because I’m never speaking to you again.”
“Even that doubletree brought two hundred and fifty.”
“Call the minute you get home, Jerry. I mean it. And put Spencer back on the phone.”
Meg managed to get her temper under control by the time her son returned. “Honey, I’m coming to get you next Sunday when school’s out. I’m bringing you back up here with me for a while. But, tell the truth, do you want me to come before that? Because I’ll leave right now, and—”
“No, Mom, don’t do that. We’re going to Disney World.”
She smiled in spite of the torture techniques she was imagining for her brother. “So I heard. But Spencer, I’m a little worried. I don’t like Jerry telling that woman that your mother left you.”
“Mom, I know you didn’t do that. I know you wouldn’t. We’re going to have lots of fun today. Mary Beth is really neat.”
And she wants to comfort my motherless son! Still, it was Disney World, and Spencer was a ten-year-old boy, one who desperately needed fun in his life. But did he have to get it this way? “Okay, Spence,” she finally said, “I won’t spoil your day. I know you’re smart enough to know that sometimes Uncle Jerry gets a little carried away.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you when we get back.”
“Fine.” She was ready to end the conversation, but added one more warning. “Spence, you know it’s never right to lie. Uncle Jerry is setting a very bad example….”
“I know, Mom. I’ve got to go, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Same here. Bye.”
Meg dropped the phone to the kitchen table and buried her face in her hands. Men! What was wrong with them? First Dave couldn’t stick around long enough to see his son through grade school. Uncle Stewie, whom she always idolized, turned out to be some sort of crook with a penchant for Rubenesque erotic art. Jerry has gone off the deep end with her son as a life raft. And even Wade Murdock, who right now was probably keeping Mount Esther safe from strawberry thieves, doesn’t show up when she expected him to.
Meg stomped into the parlor and took one more look out the window. She couldn’t stay in this house any longer. She’d go to Shady Grove and visit Amelia. Maybe this time her aunt would remember deeding the house to her supposedly favorite niece. Meg grabbed her keys and slammed the front door. She wasn’t waiting for Wade Murdock to show up, and she definitely wasn’t going into town to eat strawberries!
MEG’S PLAN TO DRIVE to Shady Grove didn’t take into account that her route took her directly past the park in the center of Mount Esther’s business district. From two blocks away, she noticed throngs of people strolling in front of the shops where merchants had set up sidewalk sales to attract browsers.
As Meg approached the square, someone pulled out of a parking space in front of Nancy Lou’s Curiosity Shop, leaving a sought-after spot. Meg swung her car into it, telling herself that Aunt Amelia would probably love a strawberry shortcake.
She stepped out of the car and crossed the street, intending to stop at the first colorful concession stand and order a mound of pound cake covered in ripe berries and cream. But the first person she noticed wasn’t a salesperson. It was Wade Murdock.
He was standing next to the sheriff’s department horse trailer, and he had his fist securely wrapped around the short reins of a huge horse in full western regalia. He was surrounded by a group of children who patted the patient horse and raised their hands to ask questions. And equally as eager were their mothers who seemed more interested in Mount Esther’s handsome deputy sheriff than they were in his horse. Wade explained the various parts of the animal’s body and its decorative leather gear.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Meg said to herself as she pulled a baseball cap low over her forehead, stared straight ahead at the nearest strawberry booth and walked briskly away from the horse trailer.
“Say there,” Wade called. “Miss Hamilton.”
She stopped, whirled around and was caught in the curious stares of a dozen citizens.
“Would you like to meet Deputy Dare, the town’s fastest and strongest law enforcement officer?”
“Thanks, but some other time, Deputy Murdock,” she said. “I just stopped for a serving of strawberries.”
“Okay then. By the way, have you discovered any more nuts in your attic?”
A few children tittered. Meg’s face flushed. “No. I think the ones left by the squirrel and the spirit of my uncle Stewie were the only ones.”
He tipped his hat. “Good to hear. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Meg flipped him a little wave and headed toward a red and white awning fluttering in the breeze. But she wasn’t thinking about strawberries, or nuts, or even about the unreliability of men in general. She was thinking about tomorrow.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, when Meg handed Amelia a serving of strawberries, she was still thinking about Wade. She found the cord for the remote control and turned down the volume on The Newlywed Game. Amelia delicately wiped a dab of whipped cream from her chin and said, “It’s a repeat anyway.”
“Aunt Amelia,” Meg began, “do you know the deputy sheriff, Wade Murdock?”
Amelia hadn’t yet acknowledged Meg, so getting a sensible answer seemed like a long shot.
“Oh my, yes,” she said. “What a nice young man. In my day we would have called him a dreamboat.”
Encouraged, Meg continued. “What else do you know about him?”
Amelia concentrated. “Let me see. Oh, yes, his wife died, and he takes care of a daughter and his father.”
Amazingly reliable information. Meg became more hopeful. “Anything else?”
“Yes, indeed,” Amelia said. “I sold him my house.”
Meg muffled a groan. This was definitely not what she wanted to hear, but maybe she could take it as a sign that Amelia was remembering something that might prove
helpful. She draped her arms over the bed rail and asked, “Do you know who I am, Aunt Amelia?”
Amelia stabbed her plastic fork into a large, tempting berry. “Of course I do. You’re the young lady who brought me this delicious strawberry shortcake.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
BY NINE O’CLOCK Monday morning Wade had written up a fender-bender out on the highway, issued three speeding tickets, and released a raccoon from the garbage pail of a hysterical woman who lived on the outskirts of Mount Esther. After all that he felt he deserved a second cup of coffee even if it meant facing Harvey Crockett at the Quick Mart.
He paid for the coffee, left the patrol car in the store parking lot and walked a block to his real estate agent’s office. Betty Lamb heard his voice when he asked the receptionist if she was in and came out of her office immediately.
“Why, Wade Murdock, my absolute favorite public servant…”
She took his hand and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Wade often wondered if Betty, at least ten years older than he and divorced, hid a deeper meaning in her always enthusiastic greetings. But probably not. She fit the image of Miss Perky Personality, but then wasn’t that part of the arsenal of traits necessary to be a successful agent? Betty wasn’t a member of the Million Dollar Sales Club for nothing.
“Hi, Betty,” he said. “I was wondering if you had a minute?”
“For you, darlin’, I have as many minutes as it takes.” She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and winked at the receptionist. “No calls, Melanie.”
“So what’s up, Wade?” she said after seeing him settled comfortably in a chair across the desk. “That look on your face says problem.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “I think maybe there is one, Betty. Have you heard that Amelia Ashford’s niece is in town?”
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