He reappeared in a few minutes and handed Kate a stack of letters she’d printed the day before. “These are all fine with the exception of one I needed to make changes on. After you’ve made them in the computer, you can reprint it and put them all in the mail. I have to run.”
When he returned to the office a few hours later, he paused at Kate’s desk for the mail. “Jane called,” Kate told him. “She’s feeling better and will be back tomorrow.”
“Good. I appreciate your help these two days, but I’m glad she’s better. I’ll have her write a check for you.”
“I thought we might apply it to my bill.”
He glanced up from the paper in his hand and gave Kate a quizzical look.
“You know, for your helping me straighten out this mess about Grandpa’s land.”
“Uh, yes. Come into my office and we’ll talk about that.”
He turned toward his office as the back door opened.
“Paul, darling!”
A voluptuous blonde woman in heavy makeup and a sequined blouse breezed in from the parking lot. She sailed across the room toward the attorney, leaving a trail of perfume behind her.
A girl of about twelve with long brown hair and a long face followed the woman into the office and stopped just inside the door. When Kate smiled at her, she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and turned her head.
The woman grabbed Mr. Boyer’s hands and kissed his cheek. “I got in earlier than expected and went by and picked up Lisa. I asked Mrs. Mason to go ahead and cook dinner before she leaves. I thought we might all eat together tonight before I take the children with me for a few days. I have to return to Memphis for another conference at the end of the week.”
“You ran out of money,” Boyer said flatly, pulling his hands from hers.
The woman ignored his remark and beckoned to the child with a well-tanned hand tipped with red nails. “Come here, honey.”
Lisa chewed her lip and ducked her head as she walked toward them. When her father put an arm around her, she leaned against his side.
“Have you seen Paul Jr.?” Mr. Boyer asked the woman.
“Mrs. Mason said he’s at ball practice. I’ll see him after she picks him up.”
Mr. Boyer looked at Kate. “You haven’t met my daughter, Miss Sanderson. This is Lisa and—her mother.”
“Why, Paul, I didn’t know you had a new administrative assistant.” Mrs. Boyer appeared to see Kate for the first time. “Where is— What’s the little pregnant girl’s name?”
“Her name is Jane,” Mr. Boyer answered drily. “She’s been my assistant for five years, Claire.”
“It’s good to meet you, Jane,” the woman said. She turned back to her husband, dismissing Kate.
“This is Miss Sanderson, Claire,” Mr. Boyer said with a shake of his head. “She’s helping me out while Jane is incapacitated.”
“Oh.” She glanced at Kate. “It’s good to meet you, Miss Sanderson. I’m happy to know someone can help my husband.”
“Ex-husband,” the attorney muttered.
The attorney turned toward his office, one arm around his daughter. His ex-wife hung onto his other one.
At the door, he turned back. “Miss Sanderson, if you’ll leave information about...the case we were discussing, I’ll see what I can do. Make a note of anything you think might be helpful, and leave it in a folder on the desk. And be sure to leave an address for Jane to mail the check to you. And a phone number where I can reach you at the university.”
Kate nodded. Maybe she should go back to school and finish the semester while the lawyer checked things. That should prevent at least one fight with her mother. And hopefully, by Christmas holidays, he would have some answers for her.
* * *
Steve looked around the clearing in the woods and shook his head. He’d think a raccoon had ransacked the place if it weren’t for those markers. But as mischievous as the little creatures were, he hadn’t met a coon yet that could dig up a stake that’d been hammered six inches into the ground, then chop it into splinters small enough to use for tooth picks. It had to be her.
Despite his irritation at the destruction of half a day’s work when time was running short, he couldn’t help smiling as he pictured her chopping away, her red hair flying.
He’d never known anyone quite like her. He sat down at the picnic table and unrolled the large sheet of paper in his hand. He was just glad he’d taken the plan with him. She would have shredded it.
He spread the drawing on the table but couldn’t concentrate on it. Too many questions crowded his mind.
Had Kate’s grandfather intended for her to have the place, but in his senility had failed to make proper arrangements? Had her family cheated her out of what was rightfully hers, as she seemed to believe? As an attorney, her sister could probably figure out a way to get around almost any law someone might wish to break. But would she? Perhaps if she were in on a shady deal.
Maybe he should do a little investigating on his own. He would hate to get a big project started only to have the place tied up in the courts.
He glanced at the hillside where his morning’s work had been destroyed. He guessed he’d best let that project wait awhile and work on something else.
He pulled the collar of his jacket tighter around his neck and shivered. He needed to talk to Kate about this other idea that had been hatching in his head. The weather would soon be too cold for him to sleep comfortably in a tent.
He folded the drawing, laid it inside the tent and set about building a fire. As the stakes the woman had chopped to kindling ignited from an armful of dry pine straw, he thought about the Scripture verse he had quoted to her. I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord...
I thought I knew Your plans for me, Lord. Before she stormed into my camp and upset them all—the way she upset me from my makeshift stool and turned my life on its head.
* * *
Kate drove back to school on Tuesday evening. She heard loud music playing as she lugged her bags up the stairs to her apartment on the second floor. Somewhere down the hall, someone banged on the wall. “Turn it down, will ya! I’m trying to study in here.”
Her tiny apartment seemed claustrophobic after the openness of the woods and her aunt’s spacious house. And very lonely, despite all the noise. She had come close to thinking of it as home before going back to a real home. Now the cheap, worn sofa bed, small rickety table, ancient gas stove and stained bathtub seemed strange to her.
While working and attending classes, she had made few friends on campus, not one she could call a close friend or confidante. There was no one to call just to say “I’m back.” There was nobody to care whether or not she came back.
Except maybe Mrs. Adelle, her employer at the garden shop. She needed to give her a call to let her know she could come to work when needed. She’d do that soon as she unpacked the few groceries she’d picked up at Winn-Dixie.
“Thank goodness you’re back,” the elderly shop owner exclaimed when Kate called. “I’ve missed your help with the plants.”
Kate smiled into the phone. It was nice to know someone missed her, even if it was only because she needed her help.
Kate assured her boss she would be at work the next day, since her only classes this week were on Thursday and Friday. Aunt El had told her she was welcome to stay at her house anytime, and she’d been tempted to return for the weekend. But semester finals were a week away and she needed to study and work a few shifts at the garden shop to help pay expenses.
She liked earning her own money and being able to tuck a few dollars into Aunt El’s canister, where she kept her grocery money.
Passing the one little window, she saw a girl and guy playing football on the grass below. The girl squealed as she tackled him and they both landed on the ground
.
Kate thought about the day she’d attempted to push Steve into the stream and fell in herself. She hugged herself and gave a delicious little shiver recalling the way he’d held her to warm her. He really didn’t seem like a bad person, not like someone who would just move in and take over a place without legal right to it.
Maybe Mr. Boyer could help her get the land problem straightened out before Steve laid out his building again and started construction. She really didn’t want to hurt the man, nor fight with him. She just wanted her land back.
With a deep sigh, Kate turned from the window, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the milk. When she walked back to the table for cereal and peanut butter, the couple were standing, wrapped in each other’s arms, laughing.
Would she ever have this kind of relationship with anyone? She sighed and pulled her accounting textbook from her bag. If she could get her degree and her land back, she wouldn’t need a relationship—she’d have everything she needed.
Chapter 7
“Jane’s doctor told her to work only half days for a while,” Kate told the attorney when he walked into the office and found her sitting at Jane’s desk. “She asked me to work in her place for a few days while I’m out of school for Christmas holidays. I hope that’s all right.”
He nodded. “That’s fine. However you two can work it out. I just need someone who can do the job and be here when I’m in court.” He set his briefcase beside the desk and picked up a stack of letters Kate had printed.
“Did you learn anything about the sale of my family’s property while I was gone?” she asked.
“Well, uh— I did find where your mother and uncles deeded the property in question to Stephen Adams, but no record of your grandfather deeding it to anyone.”
He glanced at the letters. “I’ll take these to my office and sign them.”
“What about a Last Will and Testament?”
“I’ll check on it.”
He’d check on it? She couldn’t believe a lawyer hadn’t thought to look for a will. She heaved a deep sigh as his office door closed behind him. Well, maybe tomorrow.
But he rushed off to court next morning and had not returned when Jane arrived at noon.
Kate hurried out to her car in a flurry of golden maple leaves from trees lining the parking lot. With Christmas less than three weeks away, this wonderful autumn weather wouldn’t last long. By the look of clouds in the distance, rain was already on the way. It was sure to bring cold weather. She would grab a burger, hurry home and head for the woods with her pad and pencil.
Hopefully that infuriating man would not be there, and she could spend a few relaxing moments alone.
If Mr. Boyer kept fooling around about checking on her rights to the land, she would go to the county courthouse and check records herself.
* * *
Falling leaves swirled about Steve’s pickup as he drove down the little town’s main street, but he barely noticed. His mind was taken up with what he’d just discovered at the county courthouse.
He glanced at the paper lying on the truck seat beside him. Kate would be devastated.
What should he do with the paper? File it away and wait to see what transpired? Or try to talk to her about it? Maybe he...
His foot spontaneously flew to the brake. He whirled to look behind him. Was that Kate pulling out of that parking lot?
A horn honked, yanking his attention back to his driving.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. A moving van blocked his view.
Nah, probably not her. What if it was? Would he jump out in traffic and wave her down with the paper just so he could prove he owned the land?
No, he wouldn’t be the one to break her heart with the truth. He’d let someone else be the culprit. The best he could do was try to be around to help pick up the pieces when she found out.
He glanced in the mirror again. No sign of her blue Escort. He’d seen no sign of her for over a week. She was probably at Auburn studying for exams. He was glad she was continuing her education, but surprised she would leave here for so long when she seemed determined to find a way to get the land back. And keep him from building on it in the meantime.
He couldn’t help but smile every time he thought about her digging up his stakes.
* * *
Glancing round the deserted campsite, Kate felt an emptiness in her chest. Had he finally realized she wasn’t giving up this place without a fight?
No, he wouldn’t leave if he had a clear title. He wouldn’t give up easily, either.
Well, she would enjoy the place while she had opportunity. If she didn’t freeze out here. The weather was much cooler than when she’d left for school.
Using both hands, she hoisted herself up to straddle the tree limb the intruder had used to dry his laundry on, the limb where she’d spent many happy hours reading and sketching. She moved backward until her back touched the tree trunk, then pulled the sketch pad from her waistband and the pencil from her ponytail. She drew up her right foot and propped it on the limb in front of her. Her left foot dangled beneath the branch as she leaned back against the tree and opened the pad.
From her perch, she watched squirrels dart from tree to ground to tree, gathering and storing the remains of the oak and hickory trees’ bounty. A breeze stirred the wisps of hair escaping her ponytail holder and blew a shower of color down around her. She smiled and touched pencil to paper.
But the marks she made were...only marks. Not because the small creatures moved about too quickly for her to capture them on paper. She’d never had problems with that before, at least not before that man had come.
Leaning her head back against the rough bark of the tree trunk, she closed her eyes and sighed. How she wished this thing was cleared up and that man gone, so she could get her life back.
She opened her eyes. Sat and doodled on the pad while glancing around the clearing hoping to recapture a sense of earlier times, when life was simpler—and less confusing. Instead, she found Steve’s presence haunting the place. It didn’t matter that his belongings were gone—he was still there. His laughter. His voice. His dark hair curling around his ear. Square chin with dark beard, blue eyes crinkling at the corners as...
“No! I will not let you take over here, Stephen Q. Adams—in body or in spirit! I refuse to let you.”
She ripped the sheet from the pad and was about to wad it in her hand when she noticed a face among her doodling. Steve Adams smiled up at her!
“No!” She wadded it up and threw the balled paper onto the ground. “You will not invade my life this way.”
And just at that moment she heard a deep, male voice echoing through the trees. It seemed to come from the patch of woods between the clearing and farmhouse.
“‘Coming home...’” The man was singing an old hymn to the accompaniment of a strange thumping sound. “‘Never more to roam...’” (thumpety, thump, thump) “‘Open wide those pearly gates’” (thumpety, thump, thump)...
Was he beating a drum while he sang?
As she listened, the noise grew louder. He was headed her way!
Instinctively, she drew up the leg dangling below the limb. She glanced down at the wadded paper on the ground and then toward the trail through the trees. There was no denying whose likeness she had drawn. Did she have time to climb down and retrieve it before he got there and saw it? Or should she try climbing higher and hide among the leaves? And pray the rain would come and erase the picture before he discovered it?
She swiveled her head around to look up into the tree.
And dropped the sketch pad.
Loose papers flew from the pad. These, he couldn’t miss.
She glanced toward the trail through the woods, then at the ground. It appeared much farther down than it was up. Could she jump wi
thout jarring her teeth out of her head?
The singing and bumping grew louder. They were getting closer. There was no time to do anything but jump.
Frantically, she tried to maneuver into position to swing down from the tree. But as she attempted to slide her right leg off the limb, her jeans caught on a snag.
The jolt yanked her left hand from the limb, and she was left hanging. Her right leg and arm held her to the tree while her left leg and arm dangled below her.
Suddenly, the singing stopped.
The bumping grew louder and faster.
She strained to look behind her, to see where it was coming from. All she could see was a blur moving fast toward her. It was beneath the limb where she hung when her grip gave way.
And she fell with a thud.
“Ugh!” His arms closed round her as the breath was knocked out of him.
She pushed his arms away and jumped to her feet. “Were you trying to catch me in a wheelbarrow?” She stared in disbelief at the contraption he had pushed ahead of him as he’d run to catch her.
He stared up at her through a streak of sunlight slanting through the trees. He gasped for breath. “I didn’t...realize I was still...pushing it.” He struggled to his feet, laughing between gasps.
“What are you doing with it anyway? It’s not enough to trespass here, you have to steal the dirt, too?”
She’d lost her ponytail holder in her fall and her hair fanned out about her. But she didn’t care how she looked to him or how hard he laughed at her. She had more important things to think about. She had to keep him from realizing what she was doing in the tree and noticing the papers on the ground.
But he wasn’t letting her off so easily—he recognized that she was trying to divert his attention from her plight. “Maybe I should ask what you were doing swinging from my clothesline.”
“Huh?”
Kate glanced up at the tree limb and then laughed with him, even as she recalled his laundry spread on her tree to dry.
She had to admit she must have been a funny sight dangling from the tree limb. And he had, after all, rushed to save her. “Did I hurt you?” She hoped she had—a little bit, anyway.
The Mistaken Heiress Page 6