Unexpected Riches (Bellingwood Book 13)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  The front doorbell rang as Tallie Carter walked in, saw Polly by the fireplace and smiled. "This is a lovely place. The fire makes this room very cozy."

  "I like restoring old buildings," Polly said. "The hotel was a good decision. Are you ready for directions to the diner?"

  "Didn't I see it downtown?" Tallie asked. She smiled, a little embarrassed. "I drove around before I came here, just to get my bearings. It's strange to drive into a town that you've heard about as part of your long-past history and not find dirt roads and cowboys on horseback drawing their guns."

  Polly laughed. "In Iowa? You're further out west than we are."

  "I know, but that's all we really knew of Bellingwood. Lester left his brothers here to start a town when Iowa was still only about twenty years old. That's a long time ago. And now the town is all modern and normal. You even have a fancy coffee shop."

  "You should stop in there sometime. A friend of mine runs the bakery," Polly said. "She's amazing."

  "Maybe tomorrow morning I'll go up for coffee. Could I buy you a cup? You're the only person I've met so far."

  "I'd love to meet you up there. How long are you planning to stay in town?"

  Tallie shrugged. "I'm flexible since I'm an artist. I finished two commissions last week and everything else can wait until I get back. But I brought my travel kit just in case I find something that desperately needs to be captured."

  "You're an artist." Polly shook her head. "So Beryl Watson's name wasn't familiar to you?"

  Tallie creased her brow and thought. "No, I don't think so."

  "Well, she's our local artist and is rather well known, especially on the East Coast." Polly looked up and chuckled. "I think Beryl always wondered where the artistic talent came from in her family. Apparently, it flitted around the generations."

  "Now I can't wait to meet her. I wish I didn't have this meeting today. It would be so fun to talk to her."

  "You need to get this over with first. Beryl’s a crazy, wonderful person and I think you'll love her."

  Tallie looked at her watch. "I'd better hurry so I can eat before driving down to Boone. Will you be here when I come back?"

  "I doubt it," Polly said, shaking her head. "However, if you'd like to have dinner with my family, we'd love to have you."

  "No. Not tonight. It's been a long twenty-four hours and if I'm going to be worthwhile, I need sleep. I do my best work with at least nine hours of sleep." Tallie laughed. "Like you needed to know that. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Polly watched her leave and turned back to her dusting. Her phone buzzed with a text and she stopped to take it out of her pocket.

  "I'm sorry for hanging up on you, but ..." It was from Beryl.

  "That's okay," Polly texted back. "I have new, fun information about Tallie Carter that I'll keep to myself until you're ready to actually talk to me again. Enjoy your secret plans."

  There, that should mess with the woman. Polly grinned as she held the phone in her hand, waiting for it to ring.

  "You're a mean girl, Polly Giller," Beryl texted back. "I'm not ready to talk to you yet because I don't want to answer your questions today. We’ll wait til tomorrow for the showdown."

  Polly read the text twice more. She didn't want things to go this way, so she dialed Beryl's number.

  "I told you I'm not ready to talk."

  "And I'm not going to ask you any questions," Polly said. "Your business is your business. I'm sorry if I taunted and upset you."

  Beryl took a breath. "Thank you."

  "But I do want you to know that Tallie Carter is an artist. I didn't ask what medium or anything like that, but when she told me that, you just had to know."

  "Oh sweetie, that's wonderful. I'm looking her up online as soon as I get off the phone. I just knew there had to be more of us out there somewhere."

  "You might have found your long lost sister," Polly said. "What's so interesting is that I think that branch of Carters knows more about Bellingwood’s history than you all do about them. She said that she's heard about Bellingwood. How crazy is that?"

  "If you have to work at the hotel tomorrow, we're coming over for coffee and breakfast," Beryl said. "I won't be able to wait much longer to hear about what she knows and I'm not mean enough to keep you out of this loop, too."

  Polly opened her mouth to say something about Darien Blackstone being in the vicinity, but thought better of it. "I’d love that. When Grey comes back, I’ll find out for certain what my schedule will be and let you know."

  "Thanks for calling," Beryl said. "And I am sorry that I went away so abruptly."

  "You owe me."

  "Yes I do, my sweet girl. Yes, I do."

  Polly smiled as she hung up. People played too many games and messed up too many relationships. She didn't have time for that silliness.

  The fire was inviting and she sat down in a chair so she could see the front door. There were plenty of books on the shelves. Maybe one would interest her. She chuckled. Walls were made for shelves and shelves were made for books. Every place she touched had bookshelves lining the walls. It almost felt like nirvana.

  Grey had done the same thing Sal did when she filled the shelves at Sweet Beans. He'd gone to thrift stores and picked up boxes of books, then brought them back and sorted through them to fill these shelves. There were signs in all of the shelves inviting people to take books with them to their rooms, on their travels, and to leave books they had finished reading. The turnover wasn't immense, but some took advantage of the library and moved books back and forth.

  A well-read copy of Sherlock Holmes stuck out at Polly. She took the book back to the chair, sat down and put her feet up on the ottoman. The first thing she wanted to have fixed at Bell House was the fireplaces. Well, after the floors and electricity, plumbing, new walls and everything else. But she did want to have fireplaces again. This was fantastic. The animals would love curling up on the floor in front of a roaring fire in the middle of winter.

  Polly flipped through the pages until she came to "The Sign of the Four" and her phone rang.

  Still looking at the book, she swiped the call open, "Hello?"

  "Polly?"

  "Henry, I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention. How was lunch?"

  "It was interesting."

  That set her back. She closed the book and put it on the table beside her. "What does that mean? Is everything okay?"

  "I'm sorry. Yes, everything is great. It was just interesting to listen to him talk about what he's done and what he needs to do if he's going to do all he wants to do with his life. This boy has big plans. Certainly a lot bigger than playing basketball."

  She chuckled "I assumed that was only for the scholarship."

  "You're right. He's already taken the MCATs and has applied to medical schools around the country. Now he needs to start making decisions about where he wants to go."

  "And that's what he wanted to talk to you about? He wants help making a decision?"

  "That’s part of it. But the reason he wants help making a decision is because he's worried about his brother. If he leaves the state, he's worried that Heath will fall apart again."

  "Where is he thinking about going?"

  "He's looking at Pennsylvania and even Mayo in Rochester."

  "To be a doctor, right? Med school?"

  "Well, we talked about that. He wants to do research, too. His advisor told him that he doesn't need a medical degree to do research, but his mom always talked about him growing up to be a doctor. How's he supposed to fight that compulsion?"

  Polly sighed. "His mom would feel horrible if she thought that her death pushed him along a path he didn't want to go. If she were still alive she'd encourage him to follow his heart. Her dreams and plans for him would expand to fit his desires."

  "I didn't have the heart to say those things. Maybe you could talk to him." He paused. "The thing is, there is an excellent program at Iowa State and they've already expressed an interest in him."

&nbs
p; "But there's no med school, right?"

  "Right."

  "You know, I'd like to think we wouldn't be stupid in the things we say to our kids, but just when we think we're encouraging them, they will probably interpret it incorrectly and we'll end up pushing them down a path they aren't interested in taking."

  "Raising kids isn't going to be easy," Henry responded. "I'm glad you're doing this with me. So what have you been up to today?"

  "Just hanging out at the inn and meeting the sister of the young man whose body I found. She's an artist, just like Beryl and yes, they're related - by a long distance, but they're related. And then, I met the man that was with Beryl at Davey's last summer. His name is Darien Blackstone."

  "What?" Henry asked. "What man?"

  "Don't you remember? She came into Davey's with a man and wouldn't introduce me to him? I called Lydia and she wouldn't tell me anything either?"

  He laughed. "I have no memory of this. So is this a boyfriend?"

  "How can you not remember?"

  "I don't know," he said, still laughing. "It wasn't important. If Beryl didn't introduce him to us, then it was no big deal."

  "But it was a huge deal to me."

  "I see that," Henry said. "Who is he, then?"

  "I don't know." Even though she was alone, Polly pushed her lower lip out in a pout. "He has a cool British accent and is really good looking. But Beryl hung up on me when I tried to ask about him."

  "She what?"

  "I know, right? She hung up on me and wouldn't talk about him."

  "That is a little strange. Now that you've met him, what are you going to do?"

  "Nothing. I told Beryl I'd be good. It's going to kill me, but until she's ready to tell me who he is to her, I have to be a good girl."

  "That will kill you. Should I bring home ice cream sandwiches tonight to rescue you from yourself?"

  "Maybe. It never hurts."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Let me have it!" Rebecca yelled. "He took my pen."

  "Did not. You dropped it. It's mine now." Heath held the pen over his head and out of her reach, dancing around the table where they were doing homework after supper.

  "Give me my pen," she demanded.

  "Not gonna. You were drawing funny pictures of me. You can't have it back." He lowered the pen and waved it in front of Rebecca's face. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law." With that, he raised his hand again and took off for the other side of the table.

  "Polly!" Rebecca's voice turned to a whine. "Tell him to give me back my pen."

  Polly spoke under her breath. "Give her back her pen."

  Henry laughed as the two of them watched from chairs in the media room.

  Han and Obiwan had run to the dining room at the first sounds of excitement and were up on their back legs, trying to get in on the action.

  "You're going to have to clean the bathroom," Rebecca said. "If I have to when I'm in trouble, it's your turn this time."

  "I'm not in trouble," he taunted.

  She ran after him, jumped up and grabbed his arm, ripping his shirt when she came back down.

  Rebecca froze. "Sorry," she said. “Have you told Polly about it yet?"

  Heath grabbed his shirt with the other hand, wrapped it around his forearm, dropped the pen on the table and ran to his bedroom.

  Polly and Henry got to the dining room after he'd shut his door.

  "What was that about?" Polly asked.

  "He has a huge scar on his arm. Did he tell you about it yet?"

  Polly shook her head. "You go back to work." She picked the pen up and handed it to Rebecca. "And thanks for playing with him tonight. That was pretty great."

  "Yeah, up to the point where I ripped his shirt and freaked him out. I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

  "I know you didn't. You were fine. It was fun to see him loosen up a little." Polly took Henry's hand. "Will you come with me?"

  He nodded and the two of them walked across the living room. Polly knocked on Heath's door. "Heath, honey. Can we come in?"

  "Go away."

  "Not gonna," she said. "I don't have to be anywhere tonight, so I can stand here for a long time talking to you. You're aware of my tenacity, right?"

  "Please just go away."

  "Nope. You and I have been down this road before. I always win, remember?" Polly grinned at Henry when they heard footsteps approach the door.

  Heath pulled it open and went back over to his bed to sit down. He'd changed his shirt, covering his forearm. "I'm sorry I caused trouble tonight. I shouldn't have teased Rebecca."

  "You were just fine," Henry said. "There isn't enough teasing and playing in this house. That's not why we're here."

  Polly sat down on the bed beside Heath and put her hand on his arm. "Let me see it," she said softly.

  Pulling the sleeve up, he exposed the long, ugly scar on his forearm.

  "What happened, Heath?" she asked.

  "I cut it."

  "On what?"

  "Glass."

  She traced the raised skin of the scar. "And no one thought to take you to the emergency room?"

  "Nobody else knew about it. They didn't care."

  "Who didn't care?" Polly asked. "Your aunt and uncle."

  "Yeah. Them. And Ladd. He made me do it. Told me that a little blood couldn't hurt me."

  "You cut yourself for Ladd?" Henry was livid.

  "No. Not like that," Heath said. "I broke the window at the shoe store so we could get in. Ladd made me and then told me to suck it up."

  Henry gulped. "Crap. You could have cut something important."

  "I was fine." Heath shrugged. "I bandaged it with old t-shirts and stuff. I had to steal some antibiotic cream from my aunt. I knew I had to keep it clean, too, so it wouldn't get infected."

  Polly wrapped her arm around his. "Does your brother know?"

  "He just found out. He was mad at me for not telling him. He said he would have fixed me up if I'd have called him, but that was last summer. He wasn't going to come all the way back to Bellingwood just because I cut myself. And then he would have asked how I did it and things would have been a big mess."

  "Oh honey," Polly said. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with this alone. It breaks my heart." She wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "Sometimes I wish we would have known you before all of this bad stuff happened to you. I would have asked you to be part of my family a long time ago."

  When Heath didn't pull away, Polly continued to hold on to him. Little by little he relaxed into her until he finally sagged against her shoulder. She looked at Henry, not knowing where to go next, but desperately not wanting the moment to end.

  Henry pulled a desk chair out and sat down in front of them. "I had lunch with your brother today. He wanted to talk to me about his future college plans."

  Heath lifted his head, but didn't move away from Polly. "He respects you." After a pause, he continued. "So do I."

  "I think the world of both of you," Henry said. "Hayden also wanted to talk about your future, especially if he goes to grad school out of state."

  "I don't know what I want to do. He keeps trying to get me interested in things, but I just don't have a clue."

  "Your grades have been pretty good this year," Polly said.

  She felt Heath chuckle against her.

  "That's because of Rebecca," he said. "She thinks she's the boss of me."

  "I think she is, too," Polly replied. "But with grades like you're making right now, that will help when it comes to applying to colleges." She tapped his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be taking the ACTs this spring?"

  Heath shrugged.

  "Have you done anything about it?"

  He shook his head.

  Polly squeezed his shoulder. "You do know that when I walk out of this room, I'm looking up the dates online and then we'll have a different discussion, right?"

  That elicited a grunt.

  Henry laughed at them. "Son, you might as well give up. She's going nowhere."


  At those words, Heath took in a halting breath and Polly turned to look at him. Tears had filled his eyes and he was trying to stop them from flowing.

  "What's wrong?" Polly asked.

  "It's nuh-nuh-nothing," he stammered.

  Polly wanted to pull him into her lap, but he was too big. "Oh honey, I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

  "Mom and Dad were supposed to still be here, too," he said and sobs wracked his body.

  Henry leaned forward and put his hand on Heath's knee. "I'm so sorry. Of course you don't want to hear those words from us."

  "It's okay. It just hit me," Heath said, gathering himself back together.

  "Sometimes when we lose people we love, somebody else shows up to take care of us," Rebecca said from the doorway. "It might take longer than we think it should. I didn't have to wait as long as you did, but just because your parents died and my Mom died, doesn't mean that Polly and Henry are going to die." She put her foot inside the room. "Can I come in?"

  Heath nodded at her and Rebecca ran across the room and hopped up beside him. She patted Polly's hand. "You made him cry. He never cries."

  "I cry," Heath said, glaring at her. "Just never when there are people around. I thought you were doing your homework with your special pen."

  Rebecca patted the bed and first Han, then Obiwan jumped up and circled around behind their people. Obiwan pushed his muzzle between the two kids. "I finished my homework, but you have more to do. I checked. And if you're going to have to take the ACTs, you'd better get studying on that stuff, too. No low scores for you."

  Heath pulled gently away from Polly and she released him, then took his arm back in hers.

  ~~~

  "Having a family is pretty awesome," Polly said.

  Henry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight. The cats were sleeping in Rebecca's room and Han had made his nest on Heath's bed, leaving Obiwan as the only four-legged creature in their bed. "You say that now when everybody is communicating and letting you love them."