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A Home For Hannah (Reunion: Hannah, Michael & Kate #1)

Page 2

by Pat Warren


  “Will’s inside. Want me to show you in?”

  He was quite bold for a deliveryman. “That won’t be necessary.” Again, she indicated the box of now-soggy books. “You’re sure I don’t owe you for getting those wet?”

  “Absolutely sure.” Joel had cleaned out his library and was donating some outdated volumes to a bookstore that dealt in old editions, using their van.

  “All right, then. So long.” Hannah turned and headed up the stairs, more carefully this time.

  “Say,” he called after her, “I can’t just go on calling you Red. Shouldn’t we at least exchange names?”

  Hand on the railing, she glanced back over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. Chances are our paths will never cross again.” Giving him a cool smile, she reached the landing and went inside.

  Joel’s grin widened. Don’t count on it, Hannah Richards.

  Seated behind his mahogany desk, Will Grover removed his rimless glasses and used a snow white handkerchief to polish them. “Change is good, Hannah,” he said, his gravelly voice warm and welcoming. “Change means growth and adjustment. Without change, we’d all wither up and die.” He spoke from experience. Hadn’t he had to adjust to being without Emily after she’d died so suddenly a week short of their forty-fifth wedding anniversary?

  Will narrowed his pale blue eyes at the young woman seated across from him. “I thought you agreed with me, that that was why you left Michigan and came to Boston.”

  “I do agree, in theory.” Hannah crossed her long, slender legs. She’d arrived in town a week ago with all her worldly goods piled in her Volkswagen, checked into a motel and begun apartment hunting. She’d been lucky enough to quickly unearth a wonderful place to live, but finding an office was turning out to be far more difficult. It had been a frustrating seven days of searching. “Leaving everything familiar and moving to a strange place is a bit unsettling. I don’t know anyone here and…”

  Will replaced his glasses and smiled at her. “You know me.”

  She couldn’t help but return the smile. “Yes, and you’re a dear.”

  Will sighed and rubbed his knuckles, his bones aching from the cold winter weather. A dear. Over the years, he’d gone from being called a handsome rascal to an impressive presence in the courtroom, and apparently was now viewed as an elderly dear. Where had the time gone? The crusading attorney in him wanted to live every moment of it again, but the seventy-year-old man he’d become just wanted quiet time to sit, to read, to fish.

  Hannah studied her old friend, wondering why Will looked so melancholy. “Are you feeling all right, Will?”

  He heard the concern in her voice and felt a rush of warmth. It had been a long time since someone had expressed an interest in his health and well-being. “I’m fit as a fiddle, for an old geezer.”

  Perhaps her lack of enthusiasm for the city he loved had saddened him. She honestly liked Boston. It was big enough, yet not too large. She’d had it with small towns and even smaller minds, where she’d never felt as if she fit in. “Boston’s wonderful, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful that you want me here. I’ve known for a long while that it was time for a change. You and I have been talking about this for months, by letter, by phone. I’ve been working toward this, saving for the move for months. When I took the Massachusetts bar exam last fall, I set things in motion for quitting my firm in Michigan. But now that I’m here, things aren’t falling into place as quickly as I’d hoped, I guess.” She sent him an apologetic glance.

  Will reached for his pipe. “Patience was never your strong suit. I remember in class when at times the questions tumbled out of your mouth before I’d finished my lecture.”

  She remembered that his had been her favorite class. Professor Grover had made the law sound exciting and challenging, had made it come alive for her. She nodded, acknowledging her own youthful impatience. “I must have been a real pain in the butt.”

  Will packed his pipe with tobacco that smelled deliciously of cherry. “Not at all. Bright students are never a pain.” And Hannah had been one of the brightest, having skipped two grades ahead as a youngster, graduating college at twenty and entering law school immediately. She’d managed a 3.9 average in her studies, but her personal life hadn’t gone as well. Which was one reason why he’d urged her to try Boston, where he could keep a fatherly eye on her.

  Will reached for a match. “Are you finding your way around town all right?”

  She’d spent only that one week in Boston last fall to take the bar exam. Passing it had been the final step in her decision to move. “I bought a map, but I still get lost now and then. I’m learning.”

  “I imagine you’ve been busy since you arrived. Have you found an apartment yet?”

  “Yes, and it’s wonderful.”

  Hannah couldn’t know that her brown eyes took on a special light when she spoke of something she found exciting.

  She continued, “It’s on one of those narrow, winding streets off the Common, an old house converted into apartments. And I’ve got the entire top floor with my own entrance in back.”

  A place of her own, something she’d longed for ever since she could remember. In Michigan, she’d rented a small furnished apartment for the past couple of years while she worked for the prestigious law firm of Schlessinger, Robbins and Carmichael. She’d put off buying furniture because she’d suspected that one day she’d move from the state of her birth. “I bought a bed and a kitchen set, but I’m going to take my time putting together the rest.” There was no rush, to say nothing of not enough money in her bank account to get everything at once.

  Will puffed on his pipe, getting it going, then leaned back in his ancient but comfortable chair. “I’ll come over one evening, bring a bottle of wine and we’ll christen your new home.”

  A real home, something she could scarcely remember ever having. Hannah swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. It was about to happen, all the things she’d dreamed during the long, lonely years. And this dear man had set her in motion. “Absolutely,” she told him. “You’ll be my first guest.” Her only guest, since she knew no one else in Boston.

  “Wonderful.” He watched her chin come up a notch and saw the determination that was as much a part of Hannah Richards as her wonderful hair and big brown eyes. She didn’t consider herself beautiful, Will knew from observing her closely over the years. She was proud of her brains, her quick, agile mind, but considered her looks unimpressive. She was wrong, but she would have to discover that for herself.

  He knew that, at twenty-eight, she’d had a man or two in her life. Even knew of one who’d hurt her badly. Which was probably why Hannah Richards was a difficult woman for a man to get close to. Had he been a younger man, he never would have gotten past all the barricades she’d thrown up around herself over the years. He wondered if any eligible man ever would, so wary was she that she trusted very few. “Did you have any luck finding an office to rent?”

  Hannah sighed, unable to hide her disappointment. Funny how in this great big city, there were so few suitable commercial rentals. Especially since she knew exactly what she wanted. An older building, not all modern steel-and-glass. Quiet elegance, a good location and the right price. Did all three ever come in the same package?

  She’d called on ads, walked the neighborhoods that were her first and second choices, inspected half a dozen possibilities and dismissed them all as being too far out, too ordinary, too expensive. In their many conversations, Will had offered her a space in his building, but she’d deliberately put off looking at it until there seemed no alternatives, wanting to do this on her own.

  But time was running out. She was already getting referrals from Sanctuary, the women’s shelter she’d contacted upon her arrival, the one she’d been corresponding with from Michigan. Some of the troubled people there couldn’t wait. She needed a place to meet with them so she could get started on their behalf.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” she said in answer to his question.r />
  Will almost smiled. He’d tired of Michigan and returned to his home five years ago. He’d kept his Boston town house all these years and he knew the city well, knew that good office rentals were rare. And he knew Hannah’s taste. “So what do you think of my building?”

  It was perfect. With pride, Will had shown her around before escorting her into his office. The foyer with its slate floor, richly paneled walls and twin leaded-glass windows framing the heavy, carved front door was where his secretary, Marcie, had her desk. They’d walked through the archway and down a hall with thick gray carpeting and wallpaper in a conservative stripe, past a small lounge, a rest room, a storage area.

  Will had given her a peek into both lower-level offices, then led her up the spiral stairway to the second floor, where an impressive law library had dazzled her. It was a fantastic room with eastern exposure to the sun, two round tables, comfortable leather chairs and an Oriental rug in shades of blue and gray on the polished floor. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases on three walls held a collection of law books that would take Hannah a lifetime to accumulate. As it undoubtedly had for Will.

  Then he’d shown her the available office, and she’d fallen in love at first sight. The room was a good size, yet somehow managed to look cozy. A small, reclaimed brick fireplace with a distressed-wood mantel was on one side across from built-in bookcases that appeared to be of solid oak. The carpeting was a Wedgwood blue, and here the wallpaper was white-on-white silk and smelled newly hung. Three long, arched windows looked out on snow-covered treetops and a cloudy sky. There was even a private bathroom. Hannah had been mentally imagining furnishings she would buy to decorate the office as she’d followed Will down to his office.

  She’d been quiet so long that Will couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking on so hard. “You don’t care for it?”

  “It’s beautiful and just what I’ve been looking for, but…”

  “The rent?” He knew she wasn’t exactly flush, knew she’d need money to live on until she got a client list going. His affection for Hannah was similar to what he might have felt for the daughter he’d never had. He wouldn’t insult her by offering free rent, but he named a figure that, from the surprised expression on her face, he knew was far less than she’d been expecting.

  “Oh, I can’t accept that….”

  “Certainly you can. My needs are few. The building’s free and clear, and so is my home. You would please an old man by joining me here where I could see your lovely face every day.”

  Hannah felt affection for Will swell inside her. She blinked rapidly, her eyes suddenly moist. “No one who knows you would consider you an old man. Not with that quick legal mind.”

  “Then take advantage of my experience all you wish. Talking over your cases will keep my mind sharp.” Will set his pipe into the large glass ashtray. “I don’t take but a few cases these days, the ones that interest me. Joel handles the rest.”

  Ah, now they’d come to it, the real reason for her hesitation. She sat back, unsure how to approach the subject with Will. “It seems nearly everyone I’ve run into knows Joel Merrick,” she began carefully. “I’ve heard some interesting tales about your partner this week.”

  When Will had first told her about his vacant office, he hadn’t mentioned a partner. She hadn’t found out until the last couple of letters and even then, Will had been oddly vague. After making the rounds, Hannah thought she knew why.

  Will leaned forward, his eyes taking on a humorous glint. “Don’t tell me you believe everything you hear, Hannah.”

  “No, not everything.” But surely they couldn’t all. have been wrong. From the law clerk at the courthouse, who’d taken the time to show her around to Lee Stanford, who ran Sanctuary, to the grocer on the corner, they’d all had something to say about the Merricks. An old family dating back to the Pilgrims, to hear some tell it. And the maverick youngest Merrick named Joel.

  A Harvard graduate, a brilliant attorney, a killer in the courtroom. And a killer in the bedroom, or so she’d been told repeatedly. After growing bored with corporate law, he’d left the family law firm headed by his father and begun by his grandfather, and had gone to live for quite a spell on a Montana ranch owned by his uncle. Last year, he’d returned unexpectedly and teamed up with an old family friend, Will Grover. These days, he specialized in criminal law, and the waiting list for his services was long and monied.

  Some labeled him arrogant, others cocky, while a few said he was a playboy who enjoyed winning cases by unorthodox methods. Most agreed he didn’t take the law, himself or anyone else very seriously.

  Joel Merrick sounded exactly like the sort of man Hannah went out of her way to avoid.

  “What have you been hearing about Joel?” Will asked, curious about her pensive expression. He was aware of Joel’s reputation, but he also knew the real man, the one seldom seen by many.

  Hannah decided to level with Will. “That his family’s got money, so he takes only cases that challenge him. That he doesn’t care if his client’s innocent or guilty if he thinks he can win. That his clients are usually women and they all fall in love with him. That he’s arrogant and sometimes ruthless.”

  Leaning back, Will linked his hands over his portly belly. “There’s truth in some of that, but not much. Emily and I were houseguests of the Merricks the weekend Joel was born thirty-two years ago. I’ve watched him become the man he is and, as with all men, he’s made some mistakes. But I know him to be a good and decent man, despite what you may have heard.”

  Will watched her face and thought to reassure her. “Your cases would be strictly independent of either of us. You can have as little or as much to do with Joel as you choose. It’s up to you.”

  He’d always seemed able to read her mind. She knew that Will must care for Joel Merrick or he’d never have agreed to partner with him. She felt a bit chagrined at having revealed what amounted to mostly rumors. Still, she’d needed him to know that she had her misgivings about his partner. “On that basis, if the two of you can put up with me, I’ll be happy to accept your offer.”

  “Good, then it’s settled.". Will stroked his white mustache, thinking that Joel hadn’t been too enthusiastic about renting out their spare office. It would be interesting to see his reaction to Hannah.

  Hearing the back door bang shut, Will checked his pocket watch. “That’s probably Joel now. He had some errands to run earlier, but he said he’d be stopping back. The office isn’t usually open on Saturdays, though sometimes we come in to do paperwork. Marcie works Monday through Friday. You can get your own secretary or use her if you like. She’s not only a great legal secretary, she brings me homemade cookies.”

  “That’ll be fine.” She’d talk to Marcie on Monday and determine if they could work out some arrangement.

  Across the hall, a door opened.

  “Joel,” Will called out. “If you’ve got a minute, come on in.” He got to his feet, wondering what Hannah’s first reaction to his partner would be.

  Shrugging out of his sheepskin jacket, Joel Merrick stepped into the doorway. Noting the shock on the face of the woman seated opposite Will, he gave her his killer smile. “Well, hello, Red. Looks like we meet again.”

  Chapter Two

  “Have you two met?” Will interjected into the sudden silence.

  “Sort of,” Joel answered, coming into the room.

  Noticing Hannah’s surprised expression and Joel’s cat-that-ate-the-canary look, Will decided to sit back down and watch round one.

  From long habit, Hannah recovered quickly, swallowing her dismay at having misjudged the man she’d bumped into out back. She met his bold gaze and gave him a chilly smile. “You could have introduced yourself earlier.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What, and spoil the fun? Besides, if you’ll recall, I suggested we exchange names, and you told me it wasn’t necessary.” He watched the memory stain her cheeks as he hung his jacket on Will’s antique coatrack. “An attorney who readily jumps
to conclusions.” He shook his head in mock seriousness. “That could be a problem.”

  Hannah crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive pose, which was exactly how she felt. She hated being tricked, and he’d done it deliberately. “Your accent distracted me. You don’t sound Boston born and bred.”

  Joel brushed snowflakes from his dark hair. “Probably because I spent a lot of time in Montana.” And often wished he were back there, though he’d never said the words aloud.

  “You had me at a disadvantage, knowing I had an appointment to see Will. But then, I imagine you enjoy having the advantage on your side, Counselor.” She should let it go, Hannah thought, but some perverse instinct told her that if she let him get away with putting one over on her this time, he’d do it again.

  Joel folded his long limbs in the chair alongside her. “That’s true enough. What attorney doesn’t? You can learn a lot about someone if they don’t know everything you do.”

  Well, at least he was honest, Hannah decided. Manipulative but honest. “And have you learned a lot about me?”

  She wasn’t wearing her glasses. Earlier outside, he’d thought her eyes were a deep brown, but sitting close alongside her, he noticed flecks of gold and lighter amber in their depths. Her lashes were thick, incredibly long and dark against her fair skin. Joel felt that unmistakable sensual tug of attraction and determined he would keep her from noticing. Any good attorney knows that an expression-free face and a motionless body are often his or her best weapons. Something told him that he’d need every weapon at his command in dealing with Hannah Richards.

  “Not yet,” he said in answer to her question. “But I will.”

  Fat chance, she thought, but managed a slightly warmer smile for Will’s sake. Undoubtedly Joel Merrick thought he was God’s gift to both women and the courtroom. No matter. He would learn in short order that Hannah knew exactly how to discourage unwanted attention. She’d been doing it for years.

 

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