Whitney and Crystal walked into the room, stopping short when they saw their mother in her wedding dress. Whitney had flown in from Washington, D.C., for the weekend to stand in as best man at his mother’s wedding.
“You look great, Mom. Wow!” Whitney complimented.
“You look kinda hot for a pregnant lady,” Crystal quipped.
Herman Williams shook his head and smiled at his grandchildren. His features were Gullah and his speech still had a lingering trace of an accent that Gullahs recognized as their own. “Let’s go, Crystal. The limo and the driver are waiting downstairs to take us to the church.”
As Crystal headed for the staircase, Herman reached for his daughter’s hand and gave it a squeeze before the two embraced.
“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, gleaming.
“I’m looking forward to giving you away in marriage. I didn’t have the privilege the first time, but I knew the moment I was introduced to Asa Monroe that you’d chosen a man who would not only take care of you, but my grandchildren, too.”
“Oh, Dad,” Deborah beamed.
They hugged again before Asa put an arm around her waist and led her out of the bedroom and down the staircase.
Soon, Deborah stood in the vestibule of the church with her father and Whitney, waiting for the familiar sound of the “Wedding March.” Even as a little girl she’d fantasized about having a string quartet at her wedding and now it was finally happening. Whitney had shocked her when he’d announced he was doing double duty as Asa’s best man, while sharing the honor of giving her away with his grandfather. She’d given her bouquet of miniature white roses and a delicate gardenia to Crystal when she realized she wouldn’t have a free hand.
Whitney peered through the oval window in the door leading directly into the church. “There’s standing room only, Mom.”
Before she could reply, the opening of the “Wedding March” filled the church.
“I’m ready.”
Those were the last two words she said before the ushers opened the door and Herman and Whitney led her down the white carpet to where Asa stood at the altar, smiling.
Her fingers tightened on her father’s and son’s arms as she saw familiar faces of the Cove residents in the pews. Her mother was dabbing her eyes, Barbara was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and Mabel gave her a thumbs-up.
Reverend Malcolm Crawford pulled back his shoulders under a flowing black robe. “Who gives this woman in marriage?” he asked, his sonorous voice carrying easily in the large church.
“We do,” Herman and Whitney said in unison.
They took Deborah’s hands, placing them in Asa’s when he reached out for her. Whitney took his position on Asa’s right, while Herman turned and sat down next to his wife.
Deborah smiled at Crystal, who looked ravishing in a rose-pink empire silk chiffon gown, before she turned her adoring gaze on the man who unknowingly had changed her and her life the instant their eyes had met in the Muffin Corner.
She felt as if she were a spectator instead of a participant in her wedding as she listened to Reverend Crawford talk about the significance of marriage as he recounted the story of the wedding at Cana. Her gaze never wavered when she and Asa repeated their vows. Whitney had given Asa the diamond eternity band to slip on her finger, and Crystal repeated the motion when Deborah slipped the wide gold band on Asa’s hand.
“By the power vested in me by the state of South Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Asa, you may kiss your bride.”
Deborah didn’t have time to catch her breath before she found herself in her husband’s arms, his mouth covering hers in a passionate kiss that nearly sucked the breath from her lungs as the baby kicked vigorously in her womb.
Placing a hand over her belly, Deborah pressed closer to Asa. “I love you so much,” she whispered.
Asa kissed her hair. “I love you, too, Mrs. Monroe.”
Her chest swelled with love and happiness. She’d wept, mourned, and laughed. Now it was time to dance, and never stop dancing, with the man with whom she would share her love and her life.
Reverend Crawford raised his hands in a prayerful gesture. “My brothers and sisters, I’d like to present Dr. and Mrs. Asa Monroe.”
There came a loud applause as Deborah hugged and kissed Crystal, then Whitney. Her eyes filled with happy tears when Asa hugged Whitney and patted his back. The two had grown close since Whitney had enrolled in Howard.
She and Asa proceeded down the aisle and out of the church, where they were showered with rice, bird seed, and flower petals. They stood long enough to pose for photographs before the wedding party went over to the fountain in the town square for official wedding photos.
Water flowed from the marble fountain as Asa wound one arm around his wife’s expanding waist, the other around Crystal’s lithe body. The realization that he was now a husband, a father to a teenaged son and daughter, and looking forward to becoming a father again when Deborah gave birth to their baby boy, was almost overwhelming.
He was going to open a family practice only doors from The Parlor, and when he closed up and went home for dinner it would be to share it with his family. “Is that your stomach growling?” he whispered in Deborah’s ear.
Smiling, she nodded. “Mama’s hungry and so is baby.”
Asa raised his hand, signaling the photographer. “Let’s finish up here, so we can go down to the beach. My wife needs to eat.”
After a half dozen more frames, Herman, Pearl, Crystal, Whitney, Deborah, and Asa headed for the beach. There all of Sanctuary Cove, as well as the mayors and town council members from Haven Creek and Angels Landing, had gathered under tents to celebrate the traditional Cavanaugh Island wedding reception.
Once they’d arrived, Asa asked a member of the waitstaff to prepare a plate for Deborah, then sat beside her and fed her portions of broiled fish and steamed vegetables. “Please, no more,” she pleaded quietly a little while later. “I can’t eat another bite.”
Leaning closer, he kissed her ear then gazed at her gorgeous face, unable to take his eyes off her as she rocked slowly to the music. A deejay had set up his equipment in a tent and was spinning tunes that had people singing, dancing, and swaying to the infectious music.
Reaching under the tablecloth, Deborah squeezed his hand. “I’m going to make mad, crazy love to you tonight.”
Throwing back his head, Asa laughed loudly. “You won’t get an argument from me, Sunshine. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”
Kara Newell has been named the sole proprietor to a gorgeous estate in South Carolina. But the sudden change in her fortune has made her a target.
Will the charming sheriff sent to protect her keep her safe?
Angels Landing
Please turn this page for a preview.
Chapter One
Good morning, ma’am. May I help you?”
Kara returned the receptionist’s friendly smile with a bright one of her own. She’d recently celebrated her thirty-third birthday and it was the first time she’d ever been called “ma’am,” but then she had to remind herself that she wasn’t in New York but in the South. Here it was customary to greet people with “yes ma’am” and “sir,” rather than “missy” or “yo, my man.”
“I’m Kara Newell and I have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. Sullivan,” she said, introducing herself.
The receptionist’s smile was still in place when she replied, “Please have a seat, Miss Newell. Mr. Sullivan will be with you shortly.”
Kara sat in a plush armchair in the law firm’s waiting area. The walls were covered with a wheat-like fabric and framed prints depicting fox hunting scenes. When she’d planned to take the much-needed vacation from her social worker position at a New York City agency for at-risk children, she never would’ve anticipated it would take her to Charleston, South Carolina, instead of Little Rock, Arkansas.
The certified letter from Sullivan,
Webster, Matthews, and Sullivan requesting her attendance at the reading of a will had come as a complete shock. When she’d spoken to Mr. David Sullivan, Jr., to inform him that she didn’t know a Taylor Patton, the attorney reassured her that his client had been more than familiar with her.
Kara had called her parents to let them know she wouldn’t be coming to Little Rock as scheduled, because she had to take care of some business. She didn’t tell her mother what that business was, because it was still a mystery as to her why she’d been summoned to the reading of a stranger’s will.
She unbuttoned the jacket to her wool pantsuit. Although the temperatures had been below freezing when she’d boarded a flight in New York City, it was at least fifty degrees warmer in Charleston. One of the things she’d missed most about living in the South was the mild winter. By the time the jet touched down, Kara barely had time to hail a taxi, check into her downtown Charleston hotel room, shower, and grab a quick bite to eat before it was time to leave. She sat up straight when a tall, slender black man approached her.
“Miss Newell?”
Pushing off the chair, Kara smiled. “Yes.”
“Good morning, Miss Newell. David Sullivan,” he said in introduction, extending his hand.
His hand was soft, his grip firm, which took her by surprise. As she took in the sight of him, she realized he didn’t quite fit the description she’d had. The one time she’d spoken to Mr. Sullivan there was something in his tone that made her think he was much older than he looked. Now, she doubted he was much older than she. Conservatively dressed in a navy-blue pinstriped suit, white shirt, blue-and-white dotted tie, and black wingtips, he released her hand.
“It’s nice meeting you, Mr. Sullivan.”
David Sullivan inclined his head. “Same here, Miss Newell. It’s nice having a face to go along with the voice.” Taking her elbow, he led her out of the waiting area and down a carpeted hallway to a set of double ornately carved oak doors at the end of the hallway. “I’d like to caution you before we go in. I don’t want you to reply or react to anything directed toward you. Taylor Patton was my client, and that means indirectly you are also my client.”
A shiver of uneasiness swept over Kara like a blast of frigid air. What, she mused, was she about to walk into? For the first time since she’d read the letter she’d chided herself for not revealing its contents to her mother.
“What are you talking about?” Kara asked.
“I can’t explain now, Miss Newell. But I want you to trust me enough to know that I’m going make certain to protect your interests.”
When the doors opened Kara suddenly felt as if she were about to go on trial. The room was filled with people sitting around a massive rosewood conference table. She heard a slight gasp from the man sitting nearest the door, but he recovered quickly when she stared at him. The resemblance between her and the man was remarkable. So much so that they could have been brother and sister. But Kara didn’t have a brother—at least not one she was aware of. She was an only child. The hazel eyes staring at her were cold, angry.
David directed her to a chair at the opposite end of the room, seating her on his left while he took the place at the head of the table. He still hadn’t revealed to Kara why he’d wanted her to attend the reading of the will of Taylor Patton, but his caution was enough to let her know she was involved in something that was about to change her life. The fact that she resembled several of those in the conference room led Kara to believe there was the possibility she just might have been related to the deceased.
Resting her hands in her lap, Kara listened as David informed everyone that a stenographer would record the proceedings, asking those present to introduce themselves for the record. Kara glanced at the stenographer sitting in a corner, fingers poised on the keys of the stenograph machine resting on a tripod.
David touched her hand, nodding. “Kara Elise Newell,” she said, beginning the introductions. One by one the eleven others gave their names.
The men were Pattons, while the women were hyphenated Pattons, with one exception. Kara glanced at Analeigh Patton’s hands. Unlike the others, her fingers were bare. A hint of a smile inched up the corners of Analeigh’s mouth and a slow smile found its way to Kara’s eyes.
Everyone’s attention was directed toward David when he cleared his voice, slipped on a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses, and opened the folder in front of him. “ ‘I, Taylor Scott Patton of Palmetto Lane, Cavanaugh Island, South Carolina, do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby expressly revoking all wills and codicils, heretofore made by me.’ ”
Kara felt her mind wandering when David mentioned that as the executor he would judicially pay the deceased’s enforceable debts and the administrative expenses of Taylor’s estate as soon after his death as practicable. Taylor hadn’t married; therefore there was no spouse to whom he could have bequeathed his belongings. All of the Pattons leaned forward as if the motion had been choreographed in advance when David paused briefly. Then he continued to read.
“ ‘I do give and bequeath to my daughter, Kara Elise Newell, all my personal effects and all my tangible personal property, including automobiles owned by me and held for my personal use at the time of my death, cash on hand in bank accounts in my own name, securities, or other intangibles.’ ”
Kara went completely still, unable to utter a sound as pandemonium followed. The room was full of screams, tears, shouts of fraud, and threats to her person. Another two minutes passed before David was able to restore a modicum of civility. “Ladies, gentlemen, please restrain yourselves. Remember, this proceeding is being recorded, so please refrain from threatening my client. By the way, there is more.”
The man who had glared at Kara stood up. “What’s left? My uncle has given this impostor everything.”
“Please sit down, Harlan. I can assure you that Ms. Newell is not an impostor.”
Kara wanted to agree with the Pattons. Austin Newell, not Taylor Patton, was her father. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding a runaway rhythm as David outlined the conditions of what she’d inherited: She must restore Angels Landing to its original condition; make Angels Landing her legal residence for the next five years; and allow the groundskeeper and his wife, who would receive a lump sum of fifty thousand dollars, to continue to live out their natural lives in one of the two guesthouses. In addition, she could not sell any parcel of land to a non-family member without unanimous approval of all Cavanaugh Island Pattons; and the house and its contents could only be deeded to a Patton.
She opened her eyes and let out an inaudible sigh when David enumerated names and monies set aside in trust for three grand-nephews and two grand-nieces for their college education. This pronouncement satisfied some, but not all. There were yet more threats and promises to contest the will.
Twenty minutes after she’d entered the conference room, Kara found herself alone with Taylor Patton’s attorney. Holding her head in her hands, she tried to grasp what had just happened. She hadn’t risen with the others, because she wasn’t certain whether her legs would’ve supported her body. David had warned her not to say anything and she hadn’t, but only because she couldn’t. Reaching for the glass of water that had been placed before her chair, she took a sip.
David removed his glasses and laced his fingers together. “So, Miss Newell, you are now the owner of a house listed on the National Register of Historic Places and two thousand acres of prime land on Cavanaugh Island.”
Kara’s eyelids fluttered as if she’d just surfaced from a trance. “I’m sorry to inform you, but Taylor Patton is not my father.”
David’s eyes narrowed. “Did your mother ever mention Taylor Patton’s name?”
She shook her head. “No. The only father I know is Austin Newell.”
“Well, I can assure you that you are Taylor’s biological daughter. In fact, you are his only child.”
Kara closed her eyes. When she opened them they were filled wi
th fear and confusion. “How is that possible?” The query was a whisper.
“That is something you’ll have to discuss with your mother. I, on the other hand, have legal proof I’ll use if your cousins decide to contest the will. Meanwhile I suggest you talk to your mother about your paternity.”
She would talk to her mother, but not over the phone. What she and Jeannette Newell needed to discuss had to be done face to face. Combing her fingers through her hair, Kara held it off her forehead. “Please tell me this is a dream.”
David sat on the edge of the table, staring at Kara’s bowed head, a look of compassion across his features. “Even if I did, it still wouldn’t change anything.” Reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, he took out a small Kraft envelope, spilling its contents on the table in front of her. “These are keys to the house in Angels Landing, Taylor’s car, and his safe deposit box in a bank in Sanctuary Cove.”
Kara released her hair, the chin-length, chemically straightened strands falling into place. “Where’s Sanctuary Cove?”
“It’s on Cavanaugh Island, but southeast of Angels Landing. Do you have a rental?”
“No. I took a taxi from the airport to the hotel.”
“Good.”
“Good?” Kara repeated.
David smiled. “Yes. It means I don’t have to get someone to drop it off for you. I’m going to have our driver take you back to the hotel so you can pick up your luggage, and then he’ll take to you Angels Landing.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m planning to leave for Little Rock tomorrow.”
“Can you hold leaving off for a few days?”
“David. May I call you David?” He nodded. “When you wrote and asked me to come here I never could’ve imagined that the man I’ve believed was my father all these years, is not my father. Not to mention that I now have a bunch of cousins who can’t wait to put out a hit on me so they can inherit my unforeseen assets, assets I don’t need or want.”
“Are you saying you’re going to walk away from your birthright?”
“A birthright I knew nothing about.”
Sanctuary Cove Page 26