by Lori Wilde
If the diary had been dated, Becky and Gracie might’ve been able to figure out who had been living in the house at the time. But there were no dates on the diary pages, and numerous renters had lived in the house after the Reed family moved to their bigger ranch near Austin in the late 1940s.
Gracie and Becky weren’t as concerned with Honey Bee as they were about guarding Lucy’s secret. After reading the diary, they felt a connection to their aunt and wanted to be sure her name was not dragged through the mud. Besides, it was extremely cool to know something no one else did. The cousins would do whatever it took to keep it that way, which was exactly why Becky had snuck into the Reed house.
“Speaking of Honey Bee,” she said. “We need to get back to figuring out how we’re going to get the diary out of the house before Mason finds it. Obviously, sneaking in while he’s sleeping isn’t going to work.”
“That was your idea, not mine,” Gracie said. “I wanted you to just tell him it was yours and ask for it. You’ve always been able to flirt anything out of a guy.”
She poured a cup of coffee. “Not Mason. He seems to be immune to my charms. In fact, I get the feeling that he likes me as much as I like him. If I told him the diary was mine, he’d probably sell it to the Austin newspaper. And we can’t have him doing that with Lucy’s diary.”
“You’re right.” Gracie paused. “But I don’t think we should move the diary either. Lucy left it there as a tribute to what she shared with Honey Bee. Taking it from the house would be like taking flowers from a grave.”
“So you just want to let Mason have it?”
“Of course not. I don’t want him to have the diary or the house. That house is where Lucy found her Tender Heart. Where she learned about love so she could write about it in her books.”
Gracie had always been such a romantic, while Becky dealt more in reality. “I don’t know if I’d go that far. If she’d found love, why didn’t they ever get married?”
“Maybe something tragic happened,” Gracie said. “Maybe Honey Bee died before they could get married.”
“Or maybe it was just hot sex.”
Gracie gasped, but Becky didn’t see anything wrong with that. She didn’t want to get married. She’d spent her entire life with a bossy daddy and brother. She didn’t need to add a bossy husband to the mix. And if she was going to be like Lucy Arrington and never get married, she had decided to get her own Honey Bee. A Honey Bee who would satisfy her at night but stay out of her business during the day.
But finding the right bee for the job hadn’t been easy. Becky had dated dozens of guys in the last year and not one had made her want to get her flower pollinated. And some, like Rich Myers, had made her want to grab a can of hornet spray.
“How can you say that, Becky?” Gracie asked. “You’ve read the diary. You know how much Lucy loved him. And it’s up to us to keep that love a secret. I truly believe that Lucy wanted us to find the diary. Just like she wanted me to find the first chapter of the final book of the Tender Heart series so Cole and Emery could live happily ever after.”
While Becky didn’t believe in fate, it did seem like more than a coincidence that Gracie had found the first chapter. Lucy had died before publishing the final book, and after her death, her relatives had searched high and low for the manuscript. Decades later, Gracie had found a long-lost chapter in the floor of the little white chapel. Becky couldn’t deny that the chapter had brought Emery to Bliss and subsequently into Cole’s arms. But it also might have contributed to the accident that had put Gracie in a wheelchair. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get back and tell her father and brother about finding the chapter, she might not have been thrown from her horse. And instead of being at a rehabilitation center in Dallas, she would be at home with her cousin.
“So how are we going to get rid of Mason and get our house back?” Becky asked.
There was a long silence, and Becky knew Gracie’s mind was working. Most folks thought she was as sweet as spring rain, but her cousin had a devious side. This was proven when she spoke.
“You told me he’s a lawyer who bought the property as a vacation home. And the only reason a big city man would buy a piece of land in the middle of nowhere is for peace and quiet. I say we give him just the opposite.”
Becky almost spit out the sip of coffee she’d just taken. “Are we talking chaos and noise?”
“Exactly.” She could almost see Gracie’s evil smile. “Why don’t you call Ms. Marble and see if she can notify the welcoming committee. I bet Mr. Granger would love folks dropping by to welcome him. And doesn’t the roof on the Reed house need a little work? I think it would be real neighborly of you to send some ranch hands over to fix it. Oh, and make sure they take big hammers.”
Becky laughed. “Why, Gracie Lynn Arrington, you little devil.”
“I’m just wanting to make sure the man feels welcome, is all. And make sure to call Winnie Crawley. Once she sinks her nails into a guy, he can’t get away fast enough.”
For some reason, Becky didn’t like the idea of Winnie sinking her nails into Mason. Probably because she couldn’t stand the thought of all that perfection being marred. But if she wanted to get rid of him, Winnie was the fastest way to do it. And she did want to get rid of him. She didn’t care as much about the house or Lucy’s diary as Gracie did, but she did care about the land.
Most people viewed the Reed property as too small to raise a large herd of cattle, but Becky had been reading up on rotational grazing where you need less land to feed more cattle. She had talked to Zane about trying it on the Earhart Ranch, but he was too set in his ways. For him to try it, he’d need proof that it worked. Becky wanted to give him that proof by turning the Reed property into a successful ranch.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s make Mason’s life hell. Then in a few weeks, when I turn twenty-five and get my trust fund, I’ll make him an offer he can’t—”
The doorbell cut her off. It was only a little after six o’clock in the morning, but on a working ranch everyone was up at the crack of dawn.
“I’ve got to go,” she said as she set down her cup of coffee. “I’ll call you later.” She hung up the phone and headed for the door. But when she opened it there was no one there. She stepped out onto the porch and looked around. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, casting the yard in a pinkish glow. A rooster crowed in the distance, and their herding dog Shep barked to be let out of the barn. But there were no ranch hands around or trucks parked next to hers.
She started to go back inside when she noticed her truck and froze. A huge teddy bear sat behind the steering wheel, its beady black eyes staring sightlessly back at her. While plenty of girls would love a stuffed animal surprise from a secret admirer, Becky didn’t. Mostly because the admirer’s identity wasn’t a secret.
Rich Myers had been a ranch hand Zane hired last fall. He was handsome, mannerly, and charming, which is why Becky had considered him a potential Honey Bee. But as soon as he got her alone, his charm and manners had flown right out his truck window. He’d turned into an overbearing jerk who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
It had taken a hard knee to the groin to get him to release her. When Zane found out she’d walked home after their date, he’d fired Rich the next day and sent him packing. She thought that would be the last of the man. But he had turned out to be persistent. He continued to ask her out with flowers and gifts. At first it was just annoying. But recently, it had started feeling kind of creepy to find her truck filled with flowers, stuffed animals, and love poems pieced together with words clipped out of a magazine like a kidnapper’s random note. And Becky didn’t like feeling scared. She didn’t like it at all.
Since Rich couldn’t have run off that quickly after ringing the doorbell, she figured he was hiding somewhere nearby. She went down the porch steps and jerked opened the door of her truck. The teddy bear toppled right out at her boots. She didn’t pick it up. Instead, she stomped the shit out of it, ripp
ing a hole in its nose and cracking both plastic eyes. And when the thing looked like it had been violently assaulted at the teddy bear picnic, she kicked it into the middle of the road.
“Listen up, Rich,” she yelled. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to do the same thing to you that I did to this bear. Now get off my property before I call the sheriff!”
“Being elected the mayor of Tender Heart had put Lance in a bad position. All the mail-order brides’ complaints about food, lodging, and horny cowboys landed on his doorstep . . . via the redhead with the big breasts and even bigger mouth.”
Chapter 3
When Mason had pulled Becky’s diary from the box, he’d expected to find a young girl’s ramblings about boys and sweet prom kisses. He had not expected a steamy pornographic journal of the sex she was having with some guy named Honey Bee.
The journal explained why Becky wanted the house. She didn’t want to lose the place where she had her secret rendezvous. Mason found that puzzling. Why did she keep her affair a secret? Not only was the prose steamy, it also rambled on and on about her love for the guy. If she loved him, why didn’t she date him openly? There was only one answer he could think of.
Honey Bee was already married.
As a divorce lawyer, Mason had seen it time and time again. A husband having a secret affair because he had no intention of leaving his wife. It was more than likely that Honey Bee was just using Becky.
A meow pulled his attention from the diary. A mangy-looking cat sat on the end of the porch. Its gray fur was matted and one of its ears looked like it had been chewed off. Mason didn’t know a lot about cats, or dogs for that matter. His mother had been allergic to animal dander, so he hadn’t had pets as a kid. And now he was too busy to deal with a pet. But if the skinny body and desperate look were any indication, this cat was starving.
He got up and walked inside. He had gone into town earlier and stocked up on groceries. He pulled some deli turkey out of the refrigerator. As he was placing a couple slices on a paper plate, the ornate urn on the windowsill caught his eye.
The kitchen probably wasn’t the best place for his mother’s ashes. But he didn’t want them in his bedroom, and there was no furniture in the living area or the other bedroom. So unless he wanted to put the urn on the back of the toilet, the kitchen was the only place left. Besides, cooking was one of the few things his mother had enjoyed doing.
That, and reading Tender Heart novels.
As soon as he set the paper plate on the porch, the cat dove into the turkey, holding the plate with its paw as it licked it clean. Since it was so hot out, Mason went back inside and got a bowl of water. He issued a warning as he set it down next to the plate. “This is a one-shot deal. I don’t want a cat.”
The cat lapped some water before it shot him a disdainful look and curled up on the porch. Mason was considering running the animal off when an Oldsmobile came up the road. The Oldsmobile appeared to be driven by a big Easter bonnet. It came to a dust-spitting stop in front of the porch, and a little old woman got out.
“Goodness, it’s hotter than Hell’s pepper patch today.” She patted her forehead with a white-gloved hand before she opened the back door of the car and pulled out a basket that was almost as big as she was. Being from Texas, he knew a welcome basket when he saw one. While he had no desire to become chummy with his neighbors, he couldn’t exactly ignore a sweet-looking little old lady.
He quickly came down the porch steps. “Let me get that, ma’am.”
She handed the basket over, then gave him a thorough once-over that had him feeling embarrassed about not having a shirt on.
“Well, no wonder Becky wants to make sure you feel welcome,” she said. “You look like Cary Grant on steroids.”
Becky? Now why would Becky want to welcome him when she wanted him out of her love nest as soon as possible? Obviously, she was up to something. He glanced at the brownies inside the basket. Had she baked him poison brownies and talked this innocent little old woman into delivering them? He wouldn’t put it past her.
The woman held out her white-gloved hand. “Maybelline Marble. School teacher for close to forty years and now the baker for Lucy’s Place Diner.”
“Mason Granger.” Mason took her hand expecting a gentle squeeze. Instead, he got a firm shake.
“An excellent attorney from what I hear.” When he lifted an eyebrow in question, she shrugged her thin shoulders. “I Googled you. It always pays to have a little information on the new people who come to town. We don’t want any riffraff, but we certainly could use a good cutthroat attorney.”
Mason took a closer look at the woman. She might be elderly and petite, but there was a sharpness in her steely blue eyes that made him realize she wasn’t a woman to underestimate.
“I don’t usually go for the throat as much as the wallet,” he said dryly.
She tipped back her head and laughed. “I do love a man who doesn’t beat around the bush.” She hooked her arm through his. “Now let’s go inside and get out of this blasted heat. I have a few questions about my will I need answered.”
Since he couldn’t be disrespectful, he led the woman up the steps of the front porch. He picked up the diary out of the chair on the way past. The woman’s direct gaze landed on the book briefly before moving to the cat.
“A cat man. How sweet.”
Mason was going to deny being a cat man and sweet, but then chose to ignore the comment. He held open the door. “Sorry that it’s not much cooler inside. My air conditioner isn’t working.”
Ms. Marble released his arm and moved into the living room. “To be honest, I wasn’t really worried about the heat. I just wanted to see the inside of the house once again.”
“Once again?”
She turned back to him. “I lived here right after I married my first husband.” She got a far-off look in her eyes. “The Reeds let us live here for free because Justin had served in the military.” She smiled. “Lord, times were tough back then. I was a new teacher and working at the diner at night until Justin could find a job. But I didn’t mind. I was in love.”
She flapped a gloved hand. “But look at me going on like a love-struck ninny.” She took the basket from him and headed to the kitchen where she proceeded to pull out a thickly wrapped plate of brownies and a mason jar of what looked like sweet tea.
Mason didn’t drink tea, sweet or otherwise, but Ms. Marble wasn’t a woman you refused. While she got everything ready, he went into the bedroom to get a shirt. He shoved the diary under his pillow. He should put it back in the floor. And he would. Once he finished reading it.
When he stepped out of the bedroom, Ms. Marble was placing two glasses of tea on the scarred kitchen table. She had removed her gloves and hat, and her white hair resembled a flattened dandelion puff. There was something about her tottering around his dingy little kitchen that made him happy and sad at the same time. He didn’t know either of his grandmothers. His parents had divorced when he was only two and he didn’t have a relationship with his father’s side of the family. And his mother’s mom had died before he was born.
Ms. Marble glanced up and noticed him standing in the doorway of the bedroom and smiled. “Well, don’t just stand there dawdling. The ice in your sweet tea will melt.” He walked over and pulled out her chair. Her smile got even bigger. “Your mama taught you well.”
He couldn’t help but glance at the urn. When he noticed Ms. Marble watching him, he quickly took the chair opposite her. “She didn’t care what else I did, but she was a stickler for manners.” He didn’t know why he had confided in Ms. Marble. His past wasn’t something he shared. Mostly because he hated sympathy.
Surprisingly, Ms. Marble didn’t give him any. She studied him for a long moment with those steely eyes before she picked up the plate. “Brownie?”
If the woman was in cahoots with Becky and the brownies were poisoned, he’d die happy. The chocolaty dessert was the best thing he’d tasted in a long time. He po
lished off one and then moved to a second while he answered all of Ms. Marble’s questions about her will. He had heard about chocolate releasing endorphins, but he hadn’t believed it until now. For the first time in a long time, he felt content as he settled back in his chair.
“Who is putting your will together?” he asked. “Zane?”
“Zane is much too busy ranching to practice law. And since we don’t have another lawyer in Bliss, I had to get one from Austin. But I have to tell you that I don’t like the man. He treats me like I’m two steps away from the grave.” She sent him a sideways glance. “How long do you plan on being here in Bliss?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I’ll be happy to help you with your will while I’m here.” He nodded at the brownies. “As long as you bring me more of those.”
She smiled. “Just wait until you taste my cinnamon swirl muffins. I would’ve brought you some, but I took most of them to the diner and the rest to Becky. With Carly and Zane gone on their honeymoon, that girl will be so wrapped up in ranch work she’ll forget to eat.”
Or wrapped up in her Honey Bee.
“So, is Becky dating anyone?” Mason asked.
He realized his mistake when her eyes immediately started to twinkle. “Becky dates a lot, but no one man has caught her eye for any length of time.” She sent him a knowing look. “Of course, I have a feeling that’s about to change.” Before he could discourage any thoughts of him and Becky, she continued. “And not a moment too soon. She needs a boyfriend to get rid of that scoundrel Rich Myers for her.”
He couldn’t help wondering if this Rich was Becky’s Honey Bee. “Why is he a scoundrel? Is he married?”
Ms. Marble took a sip of her tea. “I wouldn’t doubt it. I tried Googling him, but there are way too many Richard Myers. Still, I don’t have to research him online to know a stalker when I see one. He’s been following Becky around like a stray dog after dinner scraps since he’s come to town.”