by Janice Olson
Stunned, BJ shook her head before anger kicked in loosening her tongue.
“What makes you think I would know anything about this? I just got into town less than a half hour ago. I hardly knew Ms. Mad—Mrs. Loveless, except for her weekly visits to Heritage House.”
Sending an angry look in his direction, she wished herself as far from this insanity as possible. “If I’d had anything to do with it—” She pointed at the document. “—I would have chosen to receive the whole estate, not just a portion. Who in their right mind would want to share when they could have it all?”
A smirk rode Jason’s lips. “My sentiments exactly.”
She couldn’t tell if he was laughing at her or being sarcastic. BJ hoped her practiced smile would disguise the turmoil and the stampede of questions trampling through her mind.
Scooting forward in her chair, she did her best to look around Jason. She could feel the three fine lines between her brows pull together and tighten. “Mr. Hampton, would you explain what this means?”
He sent a scathing look in her direction. “If you’ll allow me to finish reading the will without interruption, everything will be explained to the fullest. Hopefully, then you will be able to understand.”
The man’s condescending manner had BJ wanting to do him bodily harm. A well-placed fist in the eye might help clear up his misconception that she lacked the ability to spar with the best of them.
“No call for that, Hampton. Get on with it.”
Jason’s surly tone and hard glare had Horace T. shifting his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nervously searching the document.
Slipping back into his chair, Jason looked at her as though he’d just recognized who she was then he fixed his eyes on the lawyer.
Speechless to find Jason coming to her defense was one thing, but was that pity she saw in his gaze? Good gracious, she hoped not. Sympathy was the last thing she wanted from him or anyone else.
A nervous laugh rose in her throat, but she dampened the urge. This wasn’t the time to become unhinged or hysterical. Just because Jason and she happened to be on the same page didn’t mean the story would end with happily ever after. Clasping her shaky hands in her lap, she waited for the lawyer to comply, making sure her eyes didn’t stray to Jason.
Skimming his bony index finger down the page, Horace T. found his place and began to read again.
This time, BJ took special care to listen for the worldly goods part. Sure enough, he read the words again then added … to share and share alike, with the following provisos. Proviso one: Billy Jo Spencer and Jason Lynn O’Connell must serve on the Board of Directors of Heritage House and provide funds for the day-to-day operations for one year, after which, if they so desire, Heritage House may be closed. Proviso two: both recipients must reside at Rose Mansion for a period of no less than one year.
“I beg your pardon?” BJ shifted in her chair, her stomach nauseated from her sparse breakfast. She couldn’t have heard him correctly, but her gut told her she had. BJ didn’t like the sounds of this. Even if she took the gift, there’d be no way she would move into Rose Mansion with Jason. “This is ridiculous! I—”
With the swipe of his hand, Jason motioned her silent. “And what happens to my aunt’s estate and Heritage House if we don’t comply, or if Billy Jo decides to skip town again?” He threw a pointed look in her direction, causing BJ’s cheeks to sizzle along with her temper.
The lawyer continued … if either fails to fulfill their obligation under the terms of this will … Heritage House will be closed, and all my estate, except for the proviso and bequests to others heretofore said, will go to the town of Serenity …
Jason’s hand slammed down on the table, harder this time. The glasses clinked together and water sloshed out of the pitcher splashing down onto the tray.
BJ’s body gave an involuntary jerk. She scooted back tight against the side of the chair away from Jason, wondering how she happened into this nightmare.
Again Jason towered over the table, leaning dangerously close to Horace T. “What is this farce? Who thought up this ridiculous idea, you or my aunt?”
Chapter 4
BJ’s stillness belied the unease just below the surface. Acid bubbled up, tore through her stomach, and left a burning trail of fire in its wake. She wished she could rub and soothe away the pain but knew relief would come only in the form of an antacid tablet and quitting the room entirely. The last she wouldn’t do.
Her unsettled nerves were all Jason’s doing. Well, not if she were truthful. The will played a factor in trying to mess up her comfortable life. But to know that Jason was having as much difficulty over this business caused her to regard him more closely.
Mr. Hampton stiffened and said, “This was entirely your aunt’s idea. I would never presume to—”
“Let me see if I understand this correctly.” Jason pointed toward the will as though it were a mangy, ringworm-infested animal. “That will dictates we both serve on the Board of Directors for Heritage House and reside at Rose Mansion for one year together … correct?”
“Yes.” A lesser man would have been weary but Horace T. took Jason’s lethal tone in stride.
“And if we don’t, Heritage House will be closed, and we will lose our portion of the inheritance, correct?” The vain in Jason’s neck bulged, ticking like a time bomb. His calm words were at odds with his steely eyes.
BJ had seen that same glare before, eons ago in seventh grade when Robert Daley called her a throw away. The next day at school, Robert sported a black eye and apologized to BJ.
When she asked Jason what happened, he answered, he learned manners, then winked.
“Precisely.” Horace T. tapped the document with the tip of his fingernail. “Outside of the bequests to employees, it’s as you say. There are, of course, a few other provisos.”
“Of course there are. What would make me think there weren’t?” Jason narrowed his eyes, arching his brow. “Would you like to explain what those provisos might be?”
The lawyer cleared his throat and tugged at his necktie. “Certainly.” Horace T. fidgeted again with the papers then looked at Jason. “You must sit on the board, reside—”
“You mentioned that already. What else?”
“You both must move into the mansion no later than the fifteenth, which by my calculations is in exactly twenty-six days, or the bequests are null and void.”
“I refuse. I don’t care what you do with the money or any of it. Give it to Jason. It should have all gone to him in the first place. He’s family. Not me.” BJ stood, grabbed the strap of her handbag. “I believe I’m done here.”
Horace T. scrambled upward. “You don’t understand. You can’t leave.”
“I walked in here under my own power and I can walk out the same way.” She moved to leave but his anxious gaze gave BJ pause.
“You don’t know what’s at stake.” The lawyer motioned for BJ to be reseated. “Please. Hear me out. What you decide doesn’t just affect you but Jason and the orphanage as well.”
Looking at Jason, BJ saw the challenge in his eyes.
“Ms. Spencer, if you don’t accept the bequest—”
“Everything goes to Serenity.” Jason finished flatly, his eyes never leaving her face.
Horace T. sat down. His hand swiped his forehead. Silence hung thick in the room.
BJ mulled over the information. She couldn’t live here for one year when she had a life in Galveston and a prosperous gallery on The Strand. Even now some of her photo-art was displayed at the Texas Museum in Austin. There’d be no way she could afford to go into obscurity just when everything was coming together.
But what about Heritage House?
She knew from firsthand experience the town disliked having Heritage children fed into Serenity schools for their education. Though untrue, they reasoned orphans brought an unsavory element among their children and into their little community. The town would be happy to see the home closed. Even she’d bee
n chased out of town as a teen by the town’s finest. And they could very well get their wish if she walked away. They would definitely have cause to celebrate—twofold it would seem.
“Ms. Spencer?” Horace T.’s strident voice brought BJ out of her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“I asked do you have any questions?”
“Yes. What will happen to the children at Heritage if I don’t choose to take the bequest?”
“They will be placed upon the county for disbursement to homes or other facilities that will take them.” Horace T. didn’t seem too affected by children’s plight.
“How long do I have before I need to give you my answer?”
“You have until the fifteenth to be settled into Rose Mansion.”
“What happens to the property holdings and notes payable to the estate?”
Jason’s calm question drew BJ’s attention. She could tell the answer Horace T. gave would be important to him.
“If the bequest is forfeited, most certainly the notes will be called in for liquidation and holdings sold off to meet the financial obligation to the town.”
“Everything? Personal loans and all?” His eyes bore into Horace T.
“Everything.” The lawyer sent a knowing look in Jason’s direction. “However, if there isn’t a forfeit, it will be left up to you and Ms. Spencer whether you call in the notes or sell off the holdings after the one-year period.”
Jason rubbed the back of his neck, a frown in place.
Something had gone unsaid. By their expressions, she could tell both men were doing their best not to be explicit. However, she reasoned their hinted exchange dealt with probably a note or some property of Jason’s indebted to the estate.
Didn’t matter. She couldn’t live in the same house for any amount of money, regardless how big the rambling mansion might be. He’d shown his contempt for her already for what had taken place when she was barely more than a child.
What about the children, BJ?
I can’t.
Even as the words filtered through her mind, she knew better. She couldn’t abandon the children to such a fate.
“One proviso I have yet to mention.” Horace T. looked at Jason then her. “Rose Mansion. The family estate home, furnishings, and everything on the premises, along with five hundred thousand dollars, will go to Ms. Spencer regardless.”
BJ sat up straighter. “What?”
Jason’s sarcastic humph spoke loud and clear what he thought of her inheritance.
The lawyer looked at Jason. “And regardless, you will receive five hundred thousand.”
“What, no stipulations attached?” Jason wore a scornful smile.
“None.” Horace T. moved the document aside, folded his hands in front of him.
Rose Mansion … mine? Why not Jason’s? After all, he’s the relative. Maybe not by blood, but certainly much closer to Ms. Madelyne than she.
“Nothing else?” Jason’s sarcasm hung in the air.
“No. Nothing more is mentioned.”
“So much for …” He gave a quick glance at BJ, shook his head, and didn’t finish.
“If either of you default, the balance of the estate will go to the citizens of Serenity, plain and simple.” Horace T. took a deep breath.
“There’s nothing plain and simple about this whole ridiculous situation. A default is sure to happen.” Again he shot BJ a look.
The lawyer mopped his brow with a white hankie he’d dug out of the inside of his coat pocket. “You can’t let that happen.”
Jason slung his arm back in BJ’s general direction. “Give her Rose Mansion and what money comes with it. I say good riddance to it all. My aunt’s requirements ask too much of me.” He rounded the table, his steps heavy. He stopped in front of the window, fists clenched, knuckles white.
What makes him think I would want Rose Mansion? For all she knew the house could be riddled with termites and in need of more repairs than the five hundred thousand she’d receive. Did he even ask if she needed the proceeds from the estate? No. He couldn’t be concerned enough. He didn’t give a flip about what she did or didn’t want. He didn’t even seem troubled about the children at Heritage. They’d be uprooted from the familiar into the unknown and no doubt shifted from home to home.
Vengeful. Hateful. Selfish pig. Names continued to roll through her like an avalanche, growing with intensity, gathering power, causing destruction along the way.
Men! Do they ever think of anyone but themselves?
Jason used to be different. What made him change? Surely, he couldn’t be holding a grudge for what happened between them years ago. Yet this had to be the only rational explanation for his callous lack of consideration for her or the children’s wants or desires.
BJ looked elsewhere not caring to watch Jason’s ridged, unyielding back.
“Jason. Listen to reason.” Suffused with color, Horace T. looked as though he’d swallowed a persimmon and the effects made him ill. “We’re not talking about a piddly sum here. We’re still working to obtain a more accurate figure but—” He stopped and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbled. “—the assets were at the seven hundred million mark at last accounting four days ago. And with appraisals of property, oil wells, futures, and whatnot, the assets are thought to well exceed the one billion mark.”
Chapter 5
Releasing a loud gasp caused BJ to choke, bringing about a series of sputtering, wheezing coughs. She knew Ms. Madelyne was wealthy, but this was insane. The choking fit brought about an immediate chain reaction from both men.
Jason moved in her direction then stopped when she waved him off. Through watery eyes, she watched his brows draw together in an angry line. His stormy blue gaze penetrated her through narrow slits, doing their best to delve deep inside to see if she were faking it, no doubt.
Or could he be hoping she’d strangle to death? If she did, at least his problems would be over. She’d be out of the equation for the division of the estate.
Doing her best to control her breathing and the spasms closing off her air passage, she croaked out, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to die.” Her throat wheezed as she gasped for more oxygen for her ravenous lungs.
Humph! Jason mumbled under his breath, words she couldn’t hear and probably a good thing she hadn’t. Ignoring him would be best.
Horace T. handed her a glass of water and motioned to Jason. “Come. Sit down. Let’s discuss this rationally. I can explain how you can take care of your longhorns, run your business, and still inherit your half of the estate.”
While taking a sip from the tumbler and a few more calming breaths, BJ mulled over the insane figure Horace T. mentioned and the fact that Jason raised longhorns.
Jason was certainly entitled to the estate, but her? No way. She’s nothing—a nobody. Just a kid who left Serenity at seventeen and never returned until now. Could Mrs. Loveless have picked her name out of a hat from among all the orphans who passed through Heritage’s doors? Not likely. But why pick me?
One half of the estate. Five hundred million and odd change. Unfathomable.
So what if she’s not a relative, did it matter?
Yes.
The bequest would come part-and-parcel with Serenity and Jason. Serenity she might endure. Jason? She couldn’t risk such close proximity or daily contact, she wouldn’t survive. On her own, she’d done pretty well building a good life for herself. And her life didn’t include Serenity, him, or for that matter, any man.
She shut down her thoughts and began to pay attention to what Jason and Horace T. were discussing. They were conversing as though she weren’t in the room and could easily be persuaded to do their bidding. Incensed, BJ said the first thing that popped into her mind.
“And who said I would agree to this fool-hardy idea regardless how many millions are at stake?”
The room grew silent, like the calm in the eye of a hurricane.
Jason roiled on one side.
BJ sat in the middle smiling inwardly.
Though she knew the storm still brewed and would probably hit with full force again, she held the edge, the power to move out of its way if she so desired, or stay put and hold on for dear life. And though she had pretty much made up her mind to stay and hold on, she wanted them to know she controlled her decision. Not Jason. Not Horace T. Not anyone but her.
She could walk away, but she knew she wouldn’t. Jason’s livelihood, for some inexplicable reason, appeared to be tied up with the estate. And no matter how much she wanted to run back to her safe haven, she wouldn’t leave Jason to suffer the consequences. Plus the money could help start more schools around Texas like her small school in Galveston.
“Ms. Spencer, I-I … please don’t act hastily. Surely you don’t mean—”
“And if I do, it’s my choice alone to make.” BJ leveled her gaze at the attorney and drew herself as tall as she could in the chair relishing her power. She heard a soft chuckle coming from Jason’s direction, but she didn’t dare look.
“Please.” Horace T. fluttered his hand as though he could shoo away her errant behavior. “I’m sure something can be worked out.”
“Come, Jason. Sit down.” The lawyer waved him over to the table. “Let’s all discuss this calmly and responsibly. There’s too much at stake here. Too much lying on the table to walk away.”
Eyes intent on BJ, Jason ambled over to the seat he vacated earlier and had shoved halfway across the room. He pushed the chair up to the table, pulled out the one next to BJ sitting down, practically bumping elbows. His actions, along with his peculiar expression, sent mixed signals. If he were trying to intimidate her, he’d soon find out … BJ Spencer didn’t intimidate easily, regardless how handsome the bully.
She felt the heat radiating from his body. The scent of his cologne hung lightly in the air surrounding her, drawing her in. Visions of soft gulf breezes, sunsets, and romantic walks along the sandy beach played upon her mind. After a good mental shake, she thrust the images from her, but the side effects were harder to remove. The loss and longing lingered.