Heir of Hope: Return to Ironwood Plantation (Ironwood Plantation Family Saga Book 2)

by Stephenia H. McGee

  Buford pulled himself to his full height and took a step closer to Mr. Cooley. “Now, you listen to me you conniving—”

  “Stop! Just stop.” I put my hand on Buford’s arm. “I did turn over everything having to do with the sale to Kristin. I also told her to take it to the auction. Some things have already been paid for and are now lost to me. There is nothing I can do about that. But since I have not yet been paid for the house, then it is not yet sold.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly true,” Mike said.

  “What do you mean?” Buford asked, his face glistening with sweat in the afternoon heat.

  “The bidder already transferred a deposit by phone.”

  “Then tell him he can have it back. I’m not selling.” I clenched my teeth, trying to control my anger. Help me, please, I prayed.

  Mike shook his head. “It’s too late for that.” He emphasized each word, my blood pressure rising with each staccato in his voice. “You already agreed to sell and the deposit has been made. There is nothing I can do.”

  “And just how much do you stand to make off this, Cooley?” Buford asked.

  He sniffed. “Fifteen percent.”

  “That’s highway robbery! No wonder you are fighting for the sale.”

  My blood pounded in my temples. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll talk to the bidder. Maybe he will decide to let me keep it.”

  Mr. Cooley actually rolled his eyes at me. “I seriously doubt it. He seemed pretty adamant about it over the phone. He wanted to be sure he got the house and no one else.”

  “Who is this bidder?” I asked.

  “That’s confidential.”

  “From me? It’s my house!”

  “Well, you already waived that right. The paperwork will be finalized at my office at five.” He gave me a curt nod and checked his watch. “Good day.”

  He sauntered off the porch, leaving the three of us staring after him.

  “I’m sorry, Emily. I didn’t know it would go like this.”

  “Stop apologizing, Kristin. This is not your fault. It’s mine. I did this to myself, now I have to deal with the consequences.”

  “No, I should have—”

  My phone ringing startled all of us. Oakville number. I had better answer it. I pushed the button. “Yes?”

  Deputy Davis’ voice came through the speakers. “You need to come back down to the station.”

  Of course. What else? I took a deep breath. “Okay. When?”

  “Now. I need you to sign a statement so I can get it faxed back over to Meridian. They need that statement to push Scott for a confession.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there.”

  I hung up and looked at Buford. “Well, looks like we are headed back to the station. I have to sign a statement.”

  Buford looked at his watch. “There’s nothing we can do about the house until the meeting. Maybe we can convince him not to buy. We have two hours. Let’s get this thing with Meridian out of the way.”

  Fear sucked the moisture out of my mouth until it seemed like I’d filled it with sand. “But what if they lock me up again? If I miss the meeting I know that snake will get it done as fast as possible. I have to be there.”

  Buford held both my shoulders, his brown eyes earnest. “We won’t miss it. I promise. Now let’s go.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and bounded down the steps faster than I’d ever seen him move.

  Kristin wrapped me up in a hug. “Don’t worry.”

  I wanted to believe in her optimism, but the sinking feeling in my stomach wouldn’t let up. A halfhearted smile was the only response I could offer. I followed Buford down the steps and got in the car, leaving Kristin alone on the porch.

  We drove in silence back to the station, neither of us speaking until we sat at Davis’s desk. I took the fact that I could sit at her desk and not in the interrogation room as a good sign.

  She pushed two pages of a typed statement over to me. “This is a copy of the statement you gave me earlier detailing the events. I just need you to sign it and we can fax it over.”

  I slid the papers to Buford. “You read it. If you say it’s okay, I’ll sign it.”

  He took what felt like hours to read them. Finally, he said, “Seems like you covered everything. It looks okay to me.” He put the papers back on the desk.

  Davis slid me a pen. I signed my name and pushed them back to her.

  “I’m going to fax these now. I’ll be right back.” She walked to the other side of the room and fed the papers to the machine.

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my knees. “What do you think is going to happen?” I asked Buford.

  “With the house or this case?”

  “Let’s start with this.”

  “I think they will determine it’s self-defense. Davis is just trying to cover all the bases. She’s very by-the-book, but a good deputy.”

  “That’s good. What about the house?”

  “Hard to say without seeing the contracts, but it looks pretty bad right now. You did tell her to auction it, and you gave her the power to do so. We can fight it, but it won’t be easy.”

  “I don’t need easy. I just need to know I’m in the battle. I will do what I must to save Ironwood. Even though I am the one who let this happen, I have to do whatever I can to keep the house in my family. I have to.”

  Davis returned to her desk and sat. “I faxed it over. I’ll just need you to wait until they send everything back.”

  I took a shaky breath. “How long will that take?”

  “Shouldn’t be long.”

  “Can you call me and I just come back when it gets here?”

  She looked unsure. “Well, I think it would be better if you waited. The sheriff said we should have kept you until I had it settled. I don’t want to put you back in holding, but it would be better if you stayed.”

  I looked at Buford, begging for help. He looked at his watch. “I’ll go ahead and see what kind of defense I can mount against Cooley. You wait here, and then meet me at his office as soon as you can.”

  My heart sank. I hung my head as Buford hurried out. I had no control over anything. “Fine. I give it to you. Whatever you want. It’s yours. Whatever you decide.” I whispered.

  “What’s that?” Davis asked.

  “Nothing. Just letting go of the wheel.”

  She gave me a funny look. “Want some coffee?”

  I didn’t. I felt so nauseous I thought I might vomit at any moment, but I didn’t want to make idle conversation either. “Sure.”

  She left me alone to stew. I stared at the clock, watching each minute creep by like an eon, each tick eating away a little more of my sanity. What took her so long? Did she have to go pick the beans herself? She finally returned three decades later, empty handed.

  “No coffee?”

  “Got the call,” she said, dismissing the question. “Scott confessed to both accounts to get a lesser sentence. You’re free to go.”

  “For good this time?”

  She grinned. “Unless you plan on stabbing anyone else or you’ve got a boxing match planned with any more old ladies.”

  “Nope. I’m done with that.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  I grabbed my purse and dashed out of the station, ignoring the strange looks I got on the way. The fresh air outside offered medicine to my churning stomach. I took in a lungful and tried to steady myself as I neared my rental car. I found the keys and slid into the driver’s seat, knowing I needed to get control of my emotions.

  I pulled out of the sheriff’s station, hoping I’d never have to step foot in there again. A realization hit me like a bowling ball, slamming into my chest like I was the first of nine pins.

  I had no idea where to find Cooley’s office.

  I fumbled around in my purse, nearly missing a stop sign and having to slam on my breaks, sending my purse out of the passenger seat and onto the floorboard. I nearly screamed in frustration, but clenched my teeth, p
ut the car in park and leaned down to snatch the purse from depths that seemed much too far away to be reality.

  A horned blared behind me.

  I grabbed my phone and continued through the stop sign, my hands shaking. Luckily, I had saved Buford’s office number. The phone rang three times before Dee’s voice came on the line.

  “Good afternoon, Buford Cornwall’s office. How may I—”

  “Dee! It’s me.”

  “Emily? What’s wrong?”

  “Where is Mike Cooley’s office? I need to get there, now!”

  “It’s in Westhaven. Follow Forty-Five. You’ll see the exit. Take a left at the end of the off ramp. Third light down, take a right. It’ll be on the left.”

  “Thanks, Dee.” I pushed on the accelerator.

  “What’s going on?”

  I pushed the car well over the speed limit. I checked the dashboard clock. Four-thirty-eight. “They auctioned off Ironwood. I’m trying to stop it.”

  Silence. Then a long sigh. “Oh, Emily.”

  I gripped the phone tighter. “I know. I have to get there in time. Gotta go, Dee.” I pushed the end button and tossed the phone in the car’s cup holder before she could say anything else.

  I sped down Forty-Five a good fifteen miles per hour too fast, the whole time praying I wouldn’t blow past any cops. Thankfully, I encountered very little traffic and no law enforcement. I saw the exit and pulled off hard, sending the car a little close to the shoulder and spraying up a few loose rocks. I followed Dee’s instructions and turned left onto a two lane road into another small town very similar to Oakville.

  First stoplight. Red.

  I waited, my foot tapping. Finally, it turned green.

  The car in front of me didn’t go. I put my hand on the horn, but they eased up, and I followed much too close to the shiny chrome bumper of a Ford pickup.

  Second light. Green. I followed the truck through at what felt like at crawl but was actually at the posted thirty mile per hour limit.

  Third light. Red. I turned on my blinker to turn right. Apparently, the Ford still planned on going straight, and he had an issue with pulling all the way up to the white line.

  I turned the wheel all the way to the right and tried to see if I could squeeze my little rental past him to make my turn. I might have, except this was one of those trucks that had an extra set of tires sticking out from the side of the bed. No way I’d make it past him.

  4:57

  “Come on! Please, go!”

  As soon as the light turned and he rolled forward enough for me to fit, I gunned it and shot around the turn. I checked every store front. Tire shop, bakery, consignment store.

  Cooley Estate Auctions.

  Every car in town traveled down the same road. I sat with my blinker on, waiting for the slightest break in the cavalcade to make it across.

  4:59

  I shot across the lane, the oncoming car blowing the horn, and into the parking lot. My hands were slick on the wheel. I threw the car in park and jumped out, nearly tripping over my own feet and crashing into the pavement.

  I dashed through the front door, my breath ragged. The gatekeeper sat at a tall, oval, dark mahogany reception desk.

  “Hello, Miss Burns,” she said coolly, her bright red lips slightly upturned.

  “Please, where is it? I need to get in there.”

  “Hmm, let me see.” She flipped casually through some papers on her desk.

  Intuition told me to hold my tongue or risk a longer wait. I couldn’t however, keep my foot from tapping on the tile floor.

  “Oh, yes. The estate sale for the property located in Oakville, formerly belonging to a Miss Adela Harper. Also known by the name of Ironwood.”

  I clenched my teeth.

  “Mr. Cooley is currently finalizing the sale.”

  “Where?” The word slipped through my teeth, as I still could not manage to release the tension in my jaw that forced them together.

  She raised her eyebrows. “In the conference room.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and put my clenched fists behind my back. “Which way to the conference room, please?”

  She pointed to the hall behind her. “Down that way. Third door on the right.”

  I pushed around the desk and took long strides down the hall. I reached out to grasp the handle of the third door and collided with Buford, who stepped from the room I was determined to enter.

  The air escaped him with an ooff sound. “Oh, Emily.”

  “Let me in.”

  He grasped both my shoulders, blocking the door with his body. “What happened at the station?”

  “They let me go. Now, let me in there.”

  “They dropped the charges?”

  I looked at him, astonished as to why he kept me from saving my house. “Yes. They dropped everything. The guy confessed. They said I could go. Now, why won’t you let me in?”

  Buford sighed. “Emily, the contracts held. The house is sold.” He reached behind him and pulled the door closed.

  Tears welled up in my eyes. “No.”

  “I’m sorry, Emily.”

  “But I…” I drew a ragged breath. “But I thought I made the right choice. I thought I’d found my destiny.”

  “Sometimes things work out differently than we plan, but don’t worry. I have a feeling everything will be just fine.”

  I wanted so much to be angry at him, but I knew he was right. I’d pledged to hand it over. Now I would have to let it go.

  I hung my head, letting the tears stream unheeded. The door creaked behind Buford, but I didn’t want to look into the face of the man who had taken Ironwood from me. I stepped away, pushing my back against the wall, hoping it would hold up the weakness in my trembling knees.

  “Emily?” A familiar voice turned my blood to ice.

  Blue eyes gazed at me with sympathy, compassion and… something more.

  “Luke?” I choked out his name.

  A slow smile pulled his lips up. “Hi.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “What…what are you doing here?”

  He shifted his weight and glanced around, his eyes finally falling on me. “I bought Ironwood.”

  My mouth fell open. “You…you what?”

  “I’m the high bidder.”

  My tongue became too thick for my mouth. I struggled with the words. “How could you do that to me?”

  He looked at the floor. “I couldn’t let it go to a stranger.”

  “But I’ve decided to keep it. Surly Buford told you I changed my mind!”

  “Emily.” He said my name softly. “I did talk to Buford and now—”

  I cut him off. “How could you? Everything you said was a lie.” Blood pulsed in my ears as his betrayal sucked the defiance from me. All I could feel was the numbness of a high stakes loss. “You… you made me…” Love you! The words pounded in my skull but I would not let them past my lips. I pulled myself to my full height. “You made me weak. All so you could take Ironwood from me.”

  Flames leapt into his eyes. “No, Emily.” He stepped closer and took both of my hands in his.

  Buford cleared his throat. I’d forgotten he was even there. “I think I’ll leave you two alone,” he said. He ducked his head and strode down the hall.

  I pulled my hands free from Luke and stared at the floor. I had known better than to let someone past my walls. I’d been right all along. Opening up only led to more pain, and the arrow that had sliced my unguarded heart would leave a festering wound.

  “It’s not what you think,” Luke said, his gentle tone out of place for a man who had just delivered the fatal blow.

  My face grew hot. “What is it then?” Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

  He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face to look into his eyes. “When I saw the house go up for auction, I knew I could never let anyone else have it. Despite what you said, I know how much that house means to you. I could see it in your eyes
every time we were there. And, well, Adela meant a lot to me as well. I spent a lot of time at that farm. I couldn’t stand to see it go to some stranger.”

  He looked sincere, and his words made sense. I had to remain logical. Just because my tattered heart bled didn’t mean he wasn’t better than some stranger. If Ironwood wasn’t going to stay in the family, then Luke would still be a good choice. In a way, he was kind of like Adela’s family too. At least he’d known her.

  I took a ragged breath, hoping my voice would be steady. “I know you will take care of it. Maybe even love it the way I do.” The corners of my mouth pulled down in utter defiance of my demand to remain composed. “I just wish I could have kept it in the family, the way Lydia wanted.” My words quivered, further betraying me.

  Luke slid his hands up my arms and rested them on my shoulders, a light in his eyes dancing. “I was kinda hoping that maybe… it still would.”

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t be dense, dear.” In one determined motion, he lowered his lips to mine.

  They were soft, gentle at first. Then they pressed a little harder. Without my consent, my fingers slid up around his neck and pulled him closer.

  Reluctantly, he finally pulled back. His eyes darkened, and I knew he wanted more. Perhaps he read the same expression in my eyes as well. He grinned. “I may have bought Ironwood, but I did it out of the hope it would still stay in your family. And someday it would be passed to… your children.”

  I stared at him blankly until the implication of his words settled on me, his eyes speaking more than his words. Warmth slid through me, and I couldn’t contain my smile. “Why, Mr. Preacher, is this your way of asking me out?”

  He laughed, a hearty sound from deep within. “Yes, Ma’am, I do suppose a few dates first would probably be proper.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist and looked up at him. “I think the back porch could use a fresh coat of paint.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair. “A girl after my own heart.”

  Luke and I walked hand and hand through the front door of Ironwood. Bright morning sunlight washed over the hardwood floors and bathed us in warmth.