Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mr. Cuddles standing on the threshold of Spencer’s room. “And I don’t want any trouble from you either,” she snapped at the cat.
Spencer jumped at the chance to have an ally. “Yeah, what about Mr. Cuddles? We can’t just leave him.”
“Jenny loves him,” Meg said. “He’ll be fine. He belongs here.”
“So do we,” Spencer pointed out. “This isn’t fair. I’ve got plans with Wade. When are we coming back?”
Her patience was wearing thin because the answers were so painful. “I don’t know. Just get ready, okay? I want to be gone before…”
She caught herself before she admitted that she was running out like a coward while Roone and Jenny were at the grocery store and Wade was working.
Spence yanked the zipper on his bag closed. “We have to say goodbye. You’re not leaving without saying goodbye!”
She unplugged his game system and packed it in a box. “You can call or write a letter. Or e-mail Jenny. I want to be home before dark.”
Spencer looked out the window where the shadows were already long. “It’s almost dark now.”
“I meant I want to be home before morning, or… I don’t know what I meant. We just have to leave, now.”
They carried their bags to the car a few minutes later. As Meg backed around to head down the drive, her headlights reflected on the front porch and the envelope she’d leaned against the wall. It was the last image she allowed herself of Ashford House as she veered the car toward the county road and drove away.
WADE ARRIVED HOME just before midnight. He hoped Meg would be awake and willing to talk to him. Maybe now that the service was over, she would have gotten a handle on her grief. He’d missed being with her and regretted that the few moments they’d had together since Amelia died had been strained and uncomfortable.
When he entered the house, Roone and Jenny were waiting. His father had a manila envelope in his hand. It looked like the one Meg had received at the cemetery. Wade immediately sensed something was wrong. He took off his hat and hung it over the newel post. “What’s going on?”
“She’s gone, Dad,” Jenny said. “Without even saying goodbye.”
“Who? Meg? Meg’s gone? When? How long ago?” The questions popped out his mouth almost faster than his brain could form them.
“’Fraid so, son,” Roone said. “Meg and the boy left. Cleared out their rooms and took off.” He handed the envelope to Wade. “She left this for you, though.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“At first we thought maybe they’d gone somewhere close by,” Jenny explained. “We didn’t check their closets till later. And we just found the envelope a couple hours ago. By then Gramps thought we should just wait for you to come home.”
Wade walked into the parlor and sat on one of the hard chairs the family was using temporarily. The room was eerily quiet. Wade didn’t like it. He’d come to prefer the staccato of hurried footsteps, the constant demands on his time from the kids. Silence didn’t become the old house.
He tore open the envelope and took out the contents, a document covered in legal blue binding. He lifted the flap and said, “It’s the Quit Claim Deed. She found it.”
Roone exhaled a deep breath. “Well, I’ll be. If she found the dang thing, why’d she take off?”
Wade’s first thought was that she might have gone back to Orlando to seek legal counsel, that she’d decided to go after the house with every legitimate arsenal she could muster. Would she do that? It certainly wasn’t his plan to battle over ownership of the house, not now. Not after what he and Meg had meant to each other. But maybe that night in the attic hadn’t meant as much to her as it had to him.
He flipped to the back cover where Meg had taped a note and read to himself.
Dear Wade,
As you can see, I found the deed. At first I didn’t know what to do with it, but after careful deliberation, I have decided not to press my claim to Ashford House. That’s why I have left you the only copy I know to exist of the document. The house is yours. I wish you and your family years of contentment. I know you will safeguard this treasure as you are the one person other than myself who holds this property in your heart.
Thank you for your many kindnesses, especially to my son who will always think of you fondly.
Sincerely,
Meg
He held the paper out to his father. Roone took it and read out loud. Jenny spoke the words Wade couldn’t say.
“What kind of crap is that, Dad? I thought you two were, well, getting along pretty great.”
He stared at the document and slowly shook his head. None of this made any sense. Why hadn’t she fought for the house? Why had she left so abruptly without even saying goodbye? “So did I, pumpkin,” Wade whispered. “So did I.”
“What are you going to do?” Roone asked.
“I don’t know.” He folded the deed and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Maybe he should be grateful. Maybe he should tear the thing into shreds and count his blessings that every nail he’d pounded and every piece of molding he’d replaced was for the benefit of his family alone. That goal had fulfilled him before Meg showed up.
But who was he kidding? Once Meg had been in his life for forty-eight hours, once he’d seen that her determination to possess the house was as great as his, he’d started thinking of the house as theirs. Sure, he’d given her a hard time, but always, in his mind, as he’d fixed one thing or improved another, he’d asked himself if she would approve. He hadn’t known how it all would end, but he certainly hadn’t figured on her dropping Ashford House in his lap and running out. And now that he had a plan that should have made them both happy, she hadn’t stuck around long enough for him to tell her about it.
“I guess I’ll try to call her tomorrow,” he said, since his father was waiting. “She must have gone back to Orlando to the auction business. I can try her there.”
He headed for the stairs. Involuntarily his hand went to his breast pocket and the document. It had taken on a life of its own, a menacing presence that symbolized the end of what he’d hoped was to be a future for him and Meg. They’d been brought together by a house. How sadly ironic that the same house had, for a reason he didn’t understand, torn them apart.
MEG ALMOST FELT LIKE an onlooker at her own business. She had assumed she would come back to Colonial Auction and still be the driving force behind its operation as she had been only a few weeks ago. She’d thought she would have to boost Jerry’s self-esteem and help him cope with a broken heart. But it hadn’t happened that way. Surprisingly, Jerry was handling the day-to-day operations of the auction with a competence and authority she’d never seen before.
“So what do you think of this new guy I’ve hired?” he asked Meg on Saturday morning.
“He’s a good worker.” The truth was, Meg wondered why they’d never taken the plunge before and added more help to the payroll. The old adage “you have to spend more to make more” was proving true for Colonial Auction.
“I was hoping to take some of the responsibility off your back when you got home,” Jerry said. “Especially since we have you to thank for that addition to our bank account from Aunt Amelia’s sale.”
Meg winced inwardly as she always did when mention was made of her time in Mount Esther. She’d only been back a few days, and it still seemed as if her heart had been left behind.
“Besides,” Jerry said, “I’ll never forget that I almost single-handedly ruined what we’d built over the years.”
She curled her hand over his arm. “Quit beating yourself up over this, Jer. I’ve told you it could have happened to anyone. Remember those con men had been working at building their business probably longer than we have, so they were darned good at it.” She smiled and was relieved to see the tenseness in his facial muscles fade. “And you’re certainly not the only Hamilton who’s done something stupid in the name of love.”
“Maybe so,” he said
with his irrepressible grin back in place, “but I think you should be fair. When it comes to stupidity, I’ve got one up on you. I never even checked out that phony charity of Mary Beth’s.”
Meg gave in. “Okay, you win.” She followed him to the stage to put finishing touches on the merchandise for tonight’s sale. It was an odd feeling, this sense that she wasn’t really needed anymore, that Jerry could run the auction without her and probably even deserved the chance to try. If that happened, where would Meg fit in? She’d only felt she truly belonged one place in her life, and she’d given up Ashford House without a fight.
“So what about you and the Mount Esther cop?” Jerry asked while screwing a lightbulb into a floor lamp. “He’s called here a couple times and left messages. Have you called him back?”
“No, not yet.” She’d been thinking of Wade constantly since she returned to Orlando. She owed him a phone call, though she couldn’t imagine what they would say to each other. She would call him tomorrow and tell him that she was fine, just as she’d predicted. If he did feel guilty about the way their relationship ended, she’d let him off the hook and assure him she didn’t blame him for protecting his investment. Or for never saying he loved her.
But she wouldn’t tell him that her love for him had been stronger than her instinct to fight him, that she was hurt because his feelings for her hadn’t been strong enough for him to include her in his future.
Technically you have thirty days to vacate… Betty Lamb’s words had been seared into Meg’s mind.
If you win the man, maybe you’ll win the house, too…. Gloria had been wrong on both counts. It wasn’t the first time a man had let Meg down, but she was determined to protect herself from now on.
“So what really happened with you two?” Jerry asked. “I can accept that it didn’t work out with the guy, but I can’t believe anything would have made you give up the house.” He shook his head. “If only you’d found the deed.”
Meg smiled. “Yes, if only. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”
HALFWAY THROUGH the Saturday night auction, Meg once again found herself with nothing to do, no place where she was needed. Thinking he was doing her a favor after her hectic weeks in Mount Esther, Jerry had hired a replacement auctioneer for the sale, giving Meg a chance to catch her breath—a nice gesture on her brother’s part, but definitely not something Meg needed.
The auctioneer was quite good. He commanded the audience’s attention and seemed to be getting good prices. It was while Meg was caught up in his chant and the enthusiasm of the crowd, that a man came up behind her. She wasn’t aware of his presence until his voice, husky and soft, and achingly familiar, filtered through the noise in the auction hall and penetrated her consciousness.
“Excuse me,” he said. “But I need some advice, and I think you’re just the woman who can help me.”
She froze. Her hands clenched at her sides. She stopped breathing. The only part of her that still seemed to be working was her heart, and it was beating overtime.
She didn’t turn around. Instead she stared straight ahead, willing the voice to be his, half believing that if she faced the source, the face would be different, the man would be someone she didn’t know.
“I’ll try to help you if I can,” she said. “What is it you need?”
“I’m buying a house,” he said. “It’s in a little town about five hours north of here….”
Her body became liquid as her blood warmed. Yet her skin tingled as if she were caught in a cold wind. “Yes?”
“I have to furnish the whole thing, top to bottom, two floors with six bedrooms, and an attic, too.”
Her lips trembled. “My, it’s quite a large place.”
“It is. And the specific problem I’m having is that I’m trying to furnish it with a particular woman in mind. She’s kind of an old-fashioned girl, a wonderful mother, sweet as they come, but stubborn.” He leaned closer to her ear. His breath fanned her cheek. “A bit impulsive though. It seems she heard a nasty rumor about my less-than-honorable intentions and left suddenly, sticking me with this big house and not enough people to fill it.”
“She did?” Meg gulped, dared to hope. “How was she to know the rumor was false?”
“By asking me.”
“Oh. She meant to ask you, she was planning to, but…” Meg took a deep breath. “Maybe she feared the truth, spoken by someone she’d come to care for, would hurt too deeply.”
His arm came around her. His hand, strong and capable, covered hers at her waist. “Maybe. But I would never hurt her. I love her.”
“You do?” The question was barely a whisper, and Meg wondered if he’d even heard it.
“I do,” he said.
“I don’t think she knew that.”
“That was my fault. For some reason it was difficult for me to say, but I promise to say it every day for the rest of my life, if only she’ll come back.”
Meg bit her bottom lip to hold back a gasp of shock and joy. “And you say you need furniture?”
“I do.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and stared at the platform. “What do you think of that mahogany bedroom set the auctioneer is selling right now?”
Meg smiled. “I think she’d love it.”
He raised his hand and bought the bedroom set. “I have to take it back in a horse trailer. But I’ve brought along a teenaged girl who’s right now sweeping out most of the straw. There’s a great kid out there helping her. I think you know him.”
“I’m sure this woman you’re talking about won’t mind if a few pieces of straw get stuck in the drawers,” Meg said.
He turned her around and she stared into his warm brown gaze. “I hope she won’t mind if I’ve saddled myself with thirty years of debt and sort of included her as well.”
When she laughed her confusion, he handed her a contract. “The mortgage is in my name, but the title is in both. It’s the only way I would sign it.” He smiled at her. “In fact, once Amelia’s estate is settled, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stand to benefit in some way from my payments. Ironic isn’t it?”
She scanned the document, saw her name and his listed as owners. A joint title just as he’d said. “Why did you do this?”
“I figured we’d work something out. Bigger mergers than this one have proved successful. All we need is a little vision and a bit of teamwork.”
His gesture was wonderful, kind, beyond her wildest dreams, but she couldn’t help pointing out one obvious fact. “But, Wade, you have the deed. The house already belongs to me…to us…without a mortgage.”
He arched an eyebrow at her as he produced the blue-covered document from his back pocket. “There was a little problem with the deed, sweetheart.” He opened it to the last page. “It seems your aunt never signed it. That’s why it was never filed by her lawyer. I checked with an attorney. It’s worthless, Meggie. But I thank you for it anyway.”
She leaned her forehead against his solid chest. A low bubble of laughter began deep inside her and worked its way to her throat. It emerged as a full-bodied chortle. “Poor Aunt Amelia,” she said. “The tricks her mind played on her in those last years.”
He stroked the back of her head. “Dear Aunt Amelia, I would say. If it hadn’t been for her creative decision-making, I wouldn’t be here now to offer the perfect solution to our dilemma.”
She looked at him, read the desire in his eyes and knew beyond any doubt that it was all for her. “And that is?”
“That we get married and simplify the title by combining our two names into one. I have no doubt that the marriage will work. The dang house will keep us together for the rest of our lives because it will take us that long to fix it.”
She pressed her body against his and relished the feel of his arms around her. And then she tugged him outside away from the bright lights of the auction hall and kissed him in the shadows. When she was breathless with happiness, she looked up into his eyes and said, “It’s a deal.”
EPILOGUE
THE NEXT MORNING Wade and Meg left for Mount Esther with plans to return later for Meg’s car and personal belongings. Jenny and Spencer sat in the back seat of the Mount Esther police pickup truck and squabbled and joked and eventually settled into a routine of video games and license-plate spotting.
When they exited the highway and headed down the county road toward Ashford House, Meg reflected on the turns her life had taken in the last few days. She had lost Amelia, and she thought she’d lost Ashford House and Wade. Yet, her broken dreams had been restored more completely than she’d ever dared hope.
She was leaving Colonial Auction in capable hands, and she planned to open an estate buying operation in Mount Esther. Jerry was happy for her and excited about the merchandise she planned to send from North Florida to Colonial Auction. The influx of items from the antique-rich section of the state would revitalize the auction and allow Meg to remain involved in its growth.
Spence was truly happy for the first time since his father left them. On the ride back to Mount Esther, he and Wade made plans that included home renovations, fishing, and video game challenges. Spence even agreed to serve as Lady Jay’s groom for Jenny’s upcoming horse shows.
With one exception, Meg’s life was moving on a track to fulfillment, and the future of Ashford House seemed bright as well.
Sensing her distraction, Wade said, “You’re not sorry about your decision, are you?”
She reached across the bucket seats and squeezed his hand. “Oh, no. I’m still having a hard time accepting that any person deserves all this happiness.”
“Then why the frown?”
She confessed her one concern. “It’s the money. There were so many people who believed Uncle Stewie hid a fortune on his property. I still can’t figure out why we never found it.” She paused. “When I mentioned the hidden money to my aunt, she said something puzzling.”
Your House or Mine? Page 24