“Do you think if Walter was allowed to stay at Primrose, he’d stop running off?”
Alex’s eyes widened. “Are you saying you want to adopt him?”
“Adopt him? No. You already told me I’d inherited him. I just need to wait a few more days until the house is ready for move-in. But it’s a big house. I assume he’s housebroken.”
“He is. And he’s had all his shots and been neutered.”
Evan winced at that thought and patted the dog’s head. “He was no trouble last night, though he does snore a bit.”
Alex gave him an assessing look. “Have you ever had a dog?”
“No. My father didn’t like having animals around and, later, my wife forbid it.”
Alex gave him a pitying look and handed over the leash. “Might was well get used to him right now. We’ll keep him at the shelter until you’re ready to take him.”
Evan took one step away from the grave and Walter took the cue, lunging ahead toward the car and dragging Evan behind. “Whoa, slow down.”
Alex laughed. The sound passed through Evan like bubbles of champagne. She wasn’t nearly the witch he’d pegged her for. Well, in truth, she’d given him that impression honestly with her biting comments and attitude. But when she talked about his Aunt Amy, she seemed almost like a lost child in mourning.
As they rode back to the shelter, Evan said, “You said Amy was like a mother to you. What about your own mother?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Everyone has a mother.”
“Biologically, that’s true. Mine chose to leave when I was seven and Kellie was three. My grandfather and my Uncle Jack raised us.”
“No grandmother either?”
She shook her head. “She died the year before my mother took off. And before you ask, I don’t have a clue who my father is. Kellie and I are pretty sure we have different fathers.”
Her casual admission hit him like a stomach punch. He at least had family, even if they were damaged and disconnected. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. And Uncle Jack has been a rock for us. Our grandfather passed five years ago. The grill was his until Uncle Jack took over and made some improvements.” She glanced at Evan with a grin. “Yep, what you’ve seen is the new and improved Out Back.”
“It’s a nice place. Homey. About the name.…”
“There used to be a house in front of that building, before the new road went through. When my granddad was out of work, he built a big barbecue pit behind the house and sold barbecued ribs and chicken. Folks would see the sign and knock on the front door. Grandma would point and say, ‘Out back.’ Hence, the name. Eventually, Granddad built the grill with the living space above. The house was sold when the road came through, but the grill remains.”
“The food’s great for casual fare.”
“You’re not the only one who went to culinary school.”
“Your uncle?”
“He did. He figured if he was going to stay in Cade’s Point, he’d better stick to southern home-style recipes.”
“I have to admit, I’d never eaten greens before. At least not what you folks call greens. They were delicious.” He paused, then said, “So my great-grandmother’s name was Cade?”
“Yup. Her father, your great-great-grandfather Micah Cade, founded Cade’s Point.”
“My family owned the town?”
“Don’t let it go to your head. There wasn’t much of a town back then.” She snorted. “Not much of town now. But, yeah, the Cades owned the plantation that started it all.” Alex parked in front of the shelter. “You’re opening a restaurant next door?”
“That’s my plan.”
“The previous restaurant lasted less than a year in that location.”
“I intend to last a little longer than that.” He climbed out of the car.
Alex got out and opened the back door for Walter. “So I guess you won’t be serving anything with crab?”
Evan opened his mouth, but couldn’t find a response at first. “That was not my fault.”
Alex grinned and tugged Walter toward the shelter. “I’m teasing. But you’ll understand if I don’t order crab.”
Was she teasing, he wondered, or was that a veiled threat? She had managed to discover the debacle that drove him out of New York. What if she made that information public in order to shut him down? She worked for the competition, after all. If things turned out the way he hoped, there would be no competition.
Alex ushered the dog inside the shelter, then returned with a business card. “Here’s my number. Let me know when you want to take Walter. I’ll make a list of what you’ll need.”
“Thanks.” He accepted the card, their fingertips brushing. He’d be damned if he’d entertain the notion that the shock he felt was anything other than static electricity. Even if the humidity was ninety-nine percent.
Evan determined that the less time he spent anywhere near Alex Ramsey, the better. He would not foster any attraction to the woman. He had two goals—get moved into his house and open his new restaurant. His days would soon involve at least eighteen hours at work, so he wouldn’t have time for anything else. Which is why he reconsidered taking in Walter. His offer had come in a moment of weakness and that would not happen again. The dog would be far better off remaining in the shelter where he had care and attention. He’d tell Alex that, maybe by phone, after his meeting with Aunt Amelia’s lawyer.
Chapter Seven
Evan sat in the straight-backed chair in the sparsely furnished lobby of the storefront law office. A window air conditioner wheezed and growled and a ceiling fan cranked overhead in an effort to circulate the stifling air. He glanced at his watch and sighed.
The receptionist looked his way. “Can I get you something, Mr. Whiting? A cold drink?”
“No, thank you.”
The door opened and Evan watched with interest as Alex Ramsey hurried inside. “I’m sorry I’m late, Ginny.”
“You’re not. Warren’s on a phone call. Have a seat.”
Alex turned toward the other three empty chairs and her gaze settled on Evan. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
She sat, leaving one empty chair between them. The scent of lavender wafted in front of Evan. He let his gaze drift down her legs, long and tanned. When he lifted his eyes again, she was staring at him. A flush warmed his face.
A door opened behind the reception desk and a short, round man in a wrinkled shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose pudgy arms emerged. A very bad toupee sat off center on his round head. He extended a hand as he approached. “Mr. Whiting, I’m Warren Pinkney.”
Evan stood and shook his hand. It was soft and slick with perspiration. “My pleasure, Mr. Pinkney.”
“Come on in. Let’s get on with this. Alex, how’re you doing today?”
“I’m good, Warren. And you?”
“Fine. Just fine. How are things at the shelter?”
Evan blinked as Alex passed him and continued her conversation into the lawyer’s private office. Another window air conditioner whined ineffectively.
Warren Pinkney sat behind his desk and glanced up at Evan standing in the doorway. “Well, don’t stand there, son. Come in and sit down. Alex here doesn’t bite.”
Evan sat in one of the leather arm chairs next to Alex. “I’m a bit confused, Mr. Pinkney. I thought I was here for the reading of my great-aunt’s Will.”
“Y’are.”
“And Miss Ramsey is here because…?”
“She’s named in the Will. We’re also waiting for Muriel Culver from the public library. I just spoke with her and she’s on her way. So, how do you like our town, Mr. Whiting?”
“I like it fine.” Evan drew in a breath of stifling air. “Do you think I could have a glass of water?”
“Sure.” Warren punched a button on the phone and said, “Ginny, bring some bottled water in here. And for pity’s sake, call that air conditioning repairm
an again. I’m about to have people passing out in my office.” He turned back to Evan. “The central air went out and we had to rent these danged window units. Not worth a darn.”
Ginny appeared with several dripping bottles of water and handed one to each of them. As she left the room, a gray-haired woman in entered.
“Muriel, right on time. You know Alex Ramsey. And this is Amelia’s grand-nephew, Evan Whiting.”
The woman nodded and smiled politely. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Whiting.” She sat in the vacant chair on Evan’s right.
Warren Pinkney shuffled a stack of papers on his desk, then withdrew a legal-sized light blue sheet and unfolded it. “This here is the Last Will and Testament of Miss Amelia Cade Whiting. Amelia drew up this Will three months before she passed, rest her soul.” He cleared his throat, stared at the papers and began, “To the Cade’s Point Public Library, I leave the sum of twenty-thousand dollars.”
Muriel Culver gasped and pressed a palm to her chest. “Oh, my.”
Mr. Pinkney continued, “It was Miss Amelia’s desire to expand the computer lab at the library and the children’s book section. Those are her specific instructions for the use of the money.”
“Of course. Oh, Amelia was such a generous soul.” Muriel snatched a tissue from the box on Warren’s desk and dabbed her eyes.
Evan found it hard to breathe. If she left twenty thousand dollars to the library, just how much was her estate worth?
“To Harley’s Haven I bequeath the amount of one hundred thousand dollars.”
“What?” Alex and Evan spoke at the same time.
Warren looked from Evan to Alex. “Miss Amelia wanted to help with improvements and operations for the shelter. You know how fond she was of animals and, of course, of you, Alex.” Warren shifted his gaze back to the Will. “I leave to Alexandra Ramsey the house at 946 Willow Creek Road.”
“Amy owns—owned the house I rent?” she asked with surprise.
The lawyer nodded. “She bought it when she heard you were looking to move in there. She wanted to make sure it was affordable for you. Everything you paid for rent was funneled back into the shelter with her monthly donations.”
“No wonder the rent is so low.” Tears filled Alex’s eyes. “She never said a word to me.”
Warren continued, “To Miss Alexandra Ramsey, I also leave the sum of two hundred fifty thousand dollars to be used as she wishes, as long as her plans include a much-needed vacation away from Cade’s Point.”
Alex gasped, picked up a file folder from Warren’s desk and began to fan it in front of her face. Evan shifted and cleared his throat, but said nothing.
“Are you all right, Alex?” Warren asked.
“I’m a little lightheaded. I didn’t expect any of this.”
“I can imagine,” Evan said. “Mr. Pinkney, how large is my aunt’s estate?”
“I’m gettin’ to that.” He focused back on the papers. “To my grand-nephew, Evan Aloysius Whiting, I leave the remainder of my estate—my house at 374 Natchez Street and its contents and the remainder of my savings and investments. With one stipulation—that Evan remain in the house in Cade’s Point for a minimum of one year. Should he decide to leave Cade’s Point prior to that time, the house will revert to the ownership of the Cade’s Point Historical Society. The amount of seventy-five-thousand dollars will be at his disposal immediately to cover living expenses and costs of maintaining the house for one year. The remainder of the cash and investments will be turned over to him one year from the date of the reading of this, my Last Will and Testament.”
Warren flipped up the paper and said, “The current value of the remainder of your aunt’s savings and investments is approximately two point eight million dollars.” He set down the document and looked at the three of them. “Any questions?”
Evan’s mouth had gone dry and his breathing was ragged. “I…. Uh…no.”
“You seem stunned, Mr. Whiting. You weren’t aware, I gather, of your aunt’s monetary worth?”
He shook his head. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Well, now you are.” Warren picked up three envelopes from his desk. “Muriel, here is the check for library. Alex—a check for you personally and one payable to Harley’s Haven.” He glanced back at the Will. “Oh, there’s one more thing, Mr. Whiting. Your aunt also stipulated that you are charged with the sole care and responsibility of one dog by the name of Walter. I assume he is currently in your care, Alex?”
“Yes, but Mr. Whiting already told me he would adopt Walter.”
“I did, but….” Evan turned to face Alex. “I’m going to be extremely busy setting up the restaurant. I’m afraid I won’t have time to care for a pet.”
Mr. Pinkney cleared his throat again. “It’s not an option, Mr. Whiting, unless you want to forfeit your share of the estate.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am. States it right here in Amelia’s Will. Walter is part and parcel of the package.” Mr. Pinkney folded the papers again. “Here is your check for seventy-five-thousand dollars, Mr. Whiting. I look forward to tryin’ out your new restaurant.”
“But…. Wait….” Evan stared down at the check. “I can’t access any of the other funds for a year?”
“That’s right.”
“But this isn’t going to be nearly enough to get my restaurant up and running. How can this be fair?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Evan wished he could reclaim them. He sounded like a whiney, sulking twelve year old. “I mean….”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Whiting, but those are the stipulations of the Will. I have no power to change them. Amelia’s investment portfolio, which I’ll be happy to review with you, could grow substantially in a year’s time.”
Muriel Culver tucked her check into her purse and stood. “I must be getting back to the library. Thank you, Mr. Pinkney.” She turned to Evan. “Your aunt was a wonderful woman, a credit to this community, and she’ll be sadly missed. I’ll make sure her memory is honored through her donation. Please stop by the library some day, now that you’re a resident, and pick up your library card.”
Alex remained seated beside him, bent at the waist and taking shallow breaths. She sat up and he saw tears trailing down her face. “Amy was one of a kind. I never expected this, though.” Her hand shook as she lifted the water bottle to drink. She glanced at Evan. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to know her the way we knew her.”
“I wish I had.” Evan stood. “Thank you, Mr. Pinkney. I’ll be in touch about setting up a time to go over my aunt’s investments with you.” He reached the door, then turned. “Alex, do you need a lift?”
She shook her head. “No, I need a minute. I’m in shock.”
The humidity wrapped around Evan like a wet wool blanket as he stepped outside. He was stunned by what had just happened. He’d become a millionaire—almost. He looked around at the main street of Cade’s Point, his new home for at least a year. He could do this. It would take months to get the restaurant established anyway. Cade’s Point wasn’t such a bad place to live. At least he wouldn’t be lonely in that big house all by himself. He’d have Walter.
*
Alex thanked Warren Pinkney once again and stood on unsteady legs. She had inherited a quarter of a million dollars. It didn’t seem possible. All of the things she could do with this kind of money ran like a movie trailer through her brain. She could do something for Uncle Jack—maybe buy him a new truck. She could treat Kellie to a trip of a lifetime. And there was the money for the shelter. She had enough to buy the lot next door and to begin renovations on the building.
A rush of adrenaline propelled her through the sticky heat and into the bank. The teller stared at both checks, then back at Alex. “You want to deposit a quarter of a million dollars in your checking account?”
“It’s the only account I have right now.”
“Yes, but, that’s highly unusually. Would you wait one moment?” The woman headed toward Bill Jennings’ office and soo
n returned with Bill in tow.
“Alex, nice to see you again so soon.” He took the teller’s position at the window. “About this check.”
“It’s a legitimate check, I assure you.”
“Oh, I know. But may I suggest you obtain the services of a financial advisor? It’s very unusual to deposit this amount of money without making some investments.”
“Look, I had no idea this was coming. I don’t want to walk around with that check. I’ll open a savings account and put it in there for the time being. Would that work?”
“Well, yes, but again….”
Alex sighed. “Bill, do you want my business or don’t you? I’m sure there’s a bank in Memphis that would be happy to see me coming.”
“We’re very happy to have you here, Alex. Tell you what, let’s set you up with a savings account and get this deposited. You come by in the next day or two and we can discuss your options for investment.”
“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to do. I trust the check for the Haven won’t be such an issue?”
“Not at all.” He turned to the teller. “See that Miss Ramsey gets a new savings account established, please.”
After depositing both checks into their respective accounts, with a healthy amount in her checking account as well, she turned her back on the whispers of the bank clerks and headed for the realty office. “Thank you, Amy. Thank you so much. But I’d give it all back to have you here again.”
She reached the door of Cade’s Point Realty at the same moment as Evan Whiting. He held the door open and waited for her to enter.
Kellie was on the phone and Alex stood, tapping one foot, anxious to tell her sister what had happened and to seal the deal on the vacant lot.
Evan stood beside her. “So, quite a surprise, huh?”
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