by B. J Daniels
Georgia nodded, relieved, but also feeling a little guilty. “But I thought you said you couldn’t go to a motel?”
“Please, don’t worry about me,” Nicci said. “You’ve already done so much. I never expected to see a friendly face in Whitehorse, not with my husband’s family living here. I wasn’t joking when I said you’d saved my life. I wasn’t looking forward to spending possibly months here waiting for the divorce to go through without even a friend.” She glanced away from Georgia to look wistfully at the apartment.
“I think you should stay here,” Georgia said impulsively.
“Are you sure? I promise I won’t let him know where I’m staying,” Nicci said hastily. “There won’t be any trouble.”
“I’m not worried.” Crazy, yes. Worried, well, maybe that, too. But Georgia felt as if she was doing the right thing. The woman needed help. How could she turn her out onto the street?
“Dalton is harmless. Unless you’re married to him.” She’d looked sad for a moment, but quickly altered her expression to one of delight as she looked around the apartment again. “You won’t be sorry you befriended me.”
Georgia laughed. “Please, I haven’t done anything.”
“Just saved my life, that’s all. You think that is something I’m likely to forget?” Nicci reached into her big leather shoulder bag. “The sign out front said four hundred dollars a month, first and last month’s rent, and two hundred for the security deposit.”
“But you don’t know how long you will be staying,” Georgia said. “I suppose you could pay by the week…”
“I won’t hear of it. You’ve been too kind already.” Nicci counted out ten one hundred dollar bills into Georgia’s hand and smiled jubilantly at her. “What a lucky day it was for me when I ducked into your shop.”
LANTRY CORBETT was waiting for his brother in one of the guest cabins just down the road from the main ranch house. Like his brothers, he’d come home when summoned by their father, Grayson, fearing bad news.
Their sixty-year-old father, it turned out, was just fine. Happily married to Kate and loving the new ranch in Montana. The problem was that after years of being unable to go through his first wife’s things, he’d finally gotten the courage, thanks to Kate.
Grayson had found some letters that his sons’ mother, Rebecca, had written before her death. One had been to him, telling him of her dying wish to have each of her sons marry before the age of thirty to a Montana cowgirl. The other letters were addressed to her five sons. They were to be read on the day of their weddings.
Stunned by this revelation, the brothers had all been caught up in the emotion of this find from the mother they had never really known and had done something crazy. They’d drawn straws to see who would marry first rather than go by age.
Jud had drawn the shortest straw, but he’d managed to weasel out of it by finding the perfect cowgirl, Maddie Cavanaugh, for his brother Shane. Shane, who’d drawn a straw just to shut up his brothers, had drawn the longest one. But fate had stepped in and the next thing he knew he was in love with Maddie and was now engaged and planning their wedding.
In a rare turn of events though, Jud had fallen in love just last month with a true Montana cowgirl, Faith Bailey. They were busy working on starting a stunt riding school on part of Faith’s ranch. Both weddings were pending.
Lantry, who’d drawn the second shortest straw, was next in line to find a Montana cowgirl to marry, but everyone in the family figured he’d try some legal maneuver to get out of it.
“Whoa, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Lantry said, opening the door to Dalton.
Dalton gave a humorless laugh as he stepped into the guest cabin and turned to face his brother. “I wish it had been a ghost.”
“Well, sit down and tell me why the hell you need a lawyer,” Lantry said. “You’ve never asked for my help before. Wait a minute. If this is about getting out of the marriage pact we all made…”
“I’m already married. I got married nine years ago and kept it a secret.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I were.”
“Where is your wife?”
“It’s a long story.”
His brother studied him for a moment, then said, “I think you’d better sit down before you pass out.” Lantry stepped to the bar, poured them both a drink and shoved a glass of brandy into Dalton’s hand.
Dalton took a drink, fortifying himself, and sat down. He dreaded this. It would be bad enough admitting the truth to a stranger, but to his brother Lantry?
“I can think of only one reason you’d get married and keep it a secret,” Lantry said as he took the seat opposite his brother. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Dalton took another drink of the brandy. It burned all the way down but it seemed to steady him a little. “She wasn’t pregnant. She drugged me.”
Lantry laughed, thinking he was joking. He sobered and swore. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell? The marriage would be invalid if either party was under the influence of alcohol or drugs.”
“And how do propose I prove that after nine years?”
“Not even a justice of the peace would have married you if he thought—”
“You don’t know this woman or what she’s capable of. I have no idea how she pulled it off but she did. I saw the marriage license.”
Lantry shook his head. “So how exactly did you end up drugged and married?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about the beginning. Where’d you meet this woman?” Lantry asked. He’d put his law practice in Houston on hold for a while. It was clear to all five sons that their father wanted them in Montana to be closer to him and Kate.
It was still unclear what Lantry planned to do since his Houston law practice specializing in divorce was very lucrative. He’d go broke in Whitehorse, Montana, since the population—let alone the divorce rate—was low.
Not that any of them needed the money. Grayson had divided a vast portion of his fortune between them years ago. That was one reason nine years ago, Dalton had been in a bar in Galveston just down from where he kept his sailboat.
“I met Nicci in a bar in Galveston,” Dalton began. “The moment I saw her I was like one of those cobras that comes out of the wicker basket to the sound of the flute. Later, I realized that she was the one who’d come after me.”
Lantry shrugged. “The woman did a number on you.” Clearly he’d heard more than his share of stories like this one as a divorce attorney in Houston. He just hadn’t heard one quite like this, Dalton would bet on that.
“To say Nicci came on strong is like saying getting hit by a freight train hurts.”
“She targeted you, clearly knowing who you were.”
Dalton cut his eyes to his brother. “Damn, I had no idea you were so cynical about women.”
“Not women. Marriage. Come on, this one is a no-brainer. She pretended she’d never heard of Grayson Corbett, right? And the next thing you know you’re married.”
Dalton was shaking his head, although Lantry was right. Nicci had said she’d never heard of the Texas Corbetts and he’d believed her.
“She did come after me, but not for the Corbett money,” he said. “Nicci’s wealthy, the only heir to multibillionaire Nicholas Barron Angeles. Hell, she’s richer than Dad.”
“She told you this, right? And you bought it hook, line and sinker. Damn, Dalton, what were you thinking? Let me guess, you didn’t sign a prenup.”
“I told you, she drugged me. Anyway I was eighteen. I didn’t have much and she was rich. So what would have been the point?”
“The point is that even if she wasn’t lying through her teeth about how rich she was at the time, now it is nine years later. Now you have money and maybe she’s blown all of hers, if she ever had it. The point is you’re screwed.”
Dalton realized Lantry might be right. Nicci could have blown through her fortune by now and was l
ooking to pick up a little cash. That would explain why it had taken her nine years to show up in his life again. But when he thought of that dark, humid night on the water, he doubted Nicci’s thirst for blood was monetary.
“So where has she been the last nine years?” Lantry asked.
Dalton shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since our honeymoon at sea. We parted ways a few days in.”
His brother looked surprised. “And you never heard from her, tried to contact her, thought about divorcing her?”
“I thought she was dead.”
Lantry looked momentarily taken aback. “What made you think she was dead? No, don’t answer that.” He suddenly looked as sick as Dalton felt.
Dalton rose from his chair and stepped to the window to look out. The black clouds of the thunderstorm hung on the horizon. It must still be storming not far from the ranch.
“Do you believe in evil?” When Lantry didn’t answer, Dalton turned to look at him. “Nicci’s evil incarnate and now she’s come to Whitehorse.”
Lantry shook his head. “If she’s in town, she isn’t after your soul.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Chapter Three
An hour after Georgia had closed the shop for the day she glanced up at the sound of a key in the alley door. For an instant, she was startled.
The door swung open, a gust of cool evening air rushing in before the door closed again. For a moment, she’d completely forgotten that she’d rented the apartment.
“Georgia?” Nicci called as she stepped into the shop.
“Over here.” The only light was a small one near the shelves where Georgia was busy finishing unloading the boxes that had arrived that morning.
The day had gotten away from her. She’d called in Miss Thorp, her former spinster teacher, to watch the shop while she helped Nicci bring up her bags from her rental car and then had gotten caught up in visiting and helping Nicci get settled in.
Miss Thorp had been Georgia’s typing teacher in high school. “You’ll never be a typist,” the spinster had told her repeatedly during the course. Georgia still didn’t know Miss Thorp’s first name since the woman refused to be paid for watching the shop.
“Sitting here isn’t all that different from sitting at home,” Miss Thorp had said. “I like the change of scenery.”
As long as Georgia didn’t get Miss Thorp started on the evils of computers, she proved to be the perfect part-time, occasional helper for the shop. Especially since she didn’t mind being called in at the last minute and worked for free.
Since business was often slow between classes, Miss Thorp would sit and read, which was just fine with Georgia. The one time she’d had her help her with a shipment of yarn, the typing teacher had complained about the way Georgia was doing it.
Georgia had enjoyed visiting with her new renter. Normally, she was shy, especially around strangers, but Nicci set her at ease at once by getting her talking about her two favorite subjects, Whitehorse and knitting.
Their conversation had been interspersed with laughter and comfortable silences as Nicci set about moving in. For a woman not planning to stay long she had a lot of summer clothing.
“Thank you for keeping me company,” Nicci had said at one point. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever. Is that odd?”
“No,” Georgia said. “I feel the same way.” And it was as if they’d only been apart and were now just getting reacquainted.
Georgia was thankful when Nicci didn’t ask about the Corbetts. Anyway, she figured Nicci probably knew more about them than she did.
“Still hard at work just as I suspected,” Nicci said now, smiling as she joined her. She carried what appeared to be two takeout containers.
Georgia caught the delicious smell of fried chicken. Her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast.
“I brought you some dinner,” Nicci said. “I doubt you got a chance to eat today and it’s all my fault for talking your ear off and not letting you get your work done.”
Before Georgia could be polite and deny it, Nicci rushed on. “I hope you like fried chicken. I was walking by the Great Northern restaurant and I saw they had a chicken special. Chicken, JoJos and coleslaw with sour cream for the potatoes. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Georgia laughed. “My favorite. But there is no way you eat like that all the time and stay as slim as you are.”
“You’d be surprised. I can’t stand depriving myself of anything. It’s one of my tragic flaws,” she said and laughed. “Come on, you can’t let me eat alone.”
Georgia hesitated. She really had wanted to get the yarn all put away before the shop opened in the morning.
“Take a break and eat with me, please,” Nicci pleaded. “I hate eating alone and I refuse to let you starve given how wonderful you’ve been to me.”
Georgia couldn’t have said no under the circumstances even if she hadn’t been hungry. She could eat and finish up afterward.
“You had me at fried chicken,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I’ll take it up. Meet me in my apartment?” Nicci said over her shoulder. “I also got us some wine.”
They ate at the breakfast nook, eating the chicken and potatoes with their fingers, sipping the wine and talking.
It wasn’t until later, feeling a little tipsy, Georgia realized she wasn’t going to get her work done tonight.
Much later, she crossed the hall to her own apartment, smiling to herself. She’d needed this tonight. A workaholic, she was often too serious. Her friend Rory used to make her take breaks from work to do something fun, but since Rory’s pregnancy and marriage—and Georgia’s working on expanding the yarn line at the shop—she had seen little of her best friend except at knitting class and as Rory’s backup at Lamaze class.
Georgia hadn’t realized how much she’d missed girl talk with Rory. Spending time with Nicci today made her all the more aware of how much she’d missed her best friend.
She vowed to make plans to get together with Rory outside of knitting and Lamaze classes.
THE NEXT MORNING, waking up a little hungover from the wine she wasn’t used to drinking, Georgia realized with chagrin how much she’d told her new renter about herself.
After a few glasses of wine, Georgia had shared practically her entire life history. She blamed the alcohol and the fact that Nicci had a way of drawing her out, making her so comfortable, that she wasn’t hesitant to talk about herself.
“The woman would make a great interrogator,” Rory said when Georgia called her to tell her about her new renter and her embarrassment over last night.
“She’s just so easy to talk to.”
“So what did you learn about her?”
Georgia thought back and was even more embarrassed to realize Nicci had said little about herself. “I was so busy talking about myself apparently…”
Rory laughed. “That is so not like you.”
“I know. It’s weird. But you’ll see what I mean once you meet her. She’s really fun. You can’t help opening up to her. It’s like I have always known her.”
“How long is she staying in town?” Was that jealousy she heard in her best friend’s tone?
“I don’t know. She’s rented the apartment for a month. I guess it will just depend on how long her business here takes.”
Even though Rory was her best friend and they told each other everything, Georgia didn’t feel it was her place to discuss her renter’s personal business.
“This amazing woman has business in Whitehorse?” Definitely jealousy. “I can’t believe you don’t know where’s she from, what she does for a living, what she’s doing in town,” Rory said.
“I got the feeling she’s been living abroad. I don’t know that she does anything. She seems to have a lot of money.”
“Didn’t you look at the check she gave you for the apartment? That would at least give you an idea where she banks anyway.”
&n
bsp; “She paid in cash.”
“A thousand dollars? Don’t you find that a little unusual?”
“No, obviously she’d seen the sign and knew how much she needed to rent the apartment,” Georgia said, getting annoyed. “She probably thought I wouldn’t take an out-of-town check.”
“Sounds like the woman at least didn’t just stumble in off the street,” Rory said. “She had to be planning to rent the apartment if she had the money ready. I suppose that’s good news. Still, you have to wonder what a woman like that is doing in Whitehorse.”
Nicci had kind of stumbled into the shop, Georgia thought. But only because she’d been outside looking at the For Rent sign. And a woman like Nicci Corbett probably wouldn’t think a thing about carrying around a thousand dollars in cash.
Rory was just jealous.
Once Rory met Nicci, she would like her and stop this.
“I’d better get busy,” Georgia said, a little irritated with Rory. She’d called her friend to see about getting together, but now let it go. “See you at knitting class later?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t wait. I have to meet your new renter.”
MORNINGS WERE USUALLY slow at the shop and Georgia was thankful for it today. The summer day got remarkably hot fast. Just as she had yesterday, Georgia had opened both the front and back doors and had fans going. Few people in Montana had air conditioning since it was needed for such a short period of time each year.
But this morning with all the work she had to do, she would have loved the convenience. Her biggest problem though was that she couldn’t get her conversation with Rory out of her mind.
What bothered her most was that Rory was right. Georgia didn’t know anything about the woman she’d rented the apartment to. She had an application form that she’d planned to use for any interested renter, but she’d forgotten to get Nicci to fill it out. Now she felt funny about asking her to do it since Nicci had already moved in and wouldn’t be staying long anyway.
Georgia was bent over one of the bins of yarn when she heard someone behind her. Straightening as she turned, she was shocked to see who.