Authors: Jannette Spann
“About three, why?”
He planted a quick kiss on her lips before wrestling his toddler toward the back door. “Ralph and Shelby want to meet you and discuss a partnership. I'll see when they can be here.”
“Here?” she said, catching his sleeve. “Look at this place â it's a wreck! I can't have anyone over.”
Jake glanced around. “Looks fine to me.”
“It's filthy.”
He shrugged. “So clean it up.”
“I'm working all week, and this house isn't self-cleaning!”
He laughed. “Calm down. We'll meet at my house. Shelby would be shocked if it were anywhere near as clean as this.”
****
Charlotte agonized all week over what to wear on Saturday. It was a business meeting, but the kids would be there so it was informal. When the time arrived, the only thing concerning her were the nerves settling into a burning sensation in the pit of her stomach. The last time she'd arrived unannounced at Jake's house, she'd slammed her check on his counter and stormed out before he could explain why he was so angry. A lot had happened since then.
Meeting his friends would have made her nervous anytime, but this wasn't just any meeting. The partnership depended on the four of them being able to get along. What if their personalities didn't click? The thought crossed her mind, Ralph and Shelby Watts might not be as interested in Hidden Hills as he'd led her to believe. Was she supposed to sell them on the idea?
The gnawing in her stomach felt like a full-blown ulcer when she raised her hand to knock on Jake's door. Bruce jerked it open, and the fresh scent of pine was thick enough to cut with a butter knife. She glanced around, seeing the others sitting at the table, and the pride in their expressions let her know they'd worked as a team.
“I hope you're happy,” Bruce said. “We've worked all day âcause Dad said this house
had better be clean
when you got here.”
Jeremy slid a piece of gum to each of the younger kids. “I figured he meant for us to be clean, too, so we took baths at your house â sorry about the wet towels.”
Her heart swelled. It was as if they understood the importance of this night. “You kids did a good job. I'm proud of you.”
“Don't tell Dad. He'll expect us to do it all the time.” Bruce's aversion to housework was public knowledge. She hooked her arm around his neck and ruffled his hair with her knuckles. “You'd better watch it, or I'll tell him you cleaned it all by yourself.”
Becky smacked her gum. “Can we go home and play now?”
“Go ahead, but come back when Jake gets here.”
Charlotte paused from picking up gum wrappers when a tall, slim blonde, dressed in jeans and a red tee-shirt, appeared at the door. She held it open and counted heads as the kids filed out. “Where's everybody going?”
“Next door,” Bruce replied. “So our house won't get dirty.”
The woman stuck her head in the kitchen. “Not bad â it's the first time I've ever seen it clean.”
“Me too,” Charlotte agreed, wondering where the stranger had come from.
“Reminds me of when Betty was alive,” the woman continued, closing the door. “But even then, there were toys everywhere.”
She couldn't possibly be the “dumb as dirt” Loretta. She seemed too intelligent.
“I'm Shelby Watts and you must be Charlotte.” The woman's warm manner put her at ease. “Jake told me the boys would either be here or at your house, so I came on over. He and Ralph have gone to the Pizza Plate to get supper.”
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. If Ralph was as down to earth as his wife, then the partnership could actually work. It had been a long time since she'd felt so excited about her finances.
****
“This spreadsheet â when did you say you worked it up?” It was the first time Ralph had glanced up from the computer since he'd put in the disk. She'd kept the plans for sentimental reasons, like old family portraits of her dead relatives, never dreaming they might someday be used.
“Seven years ago.” She tried to hide her nervousness. “We'll have to make adjustments for inflation, but the basic plan should work.”
His focus remained on the spreadsheet. After several minutes of serious concentration, he squared his shoulders. “I'm impressed. You're not only beautiful â you've got a good business head on your shoulders.”
Shelby's jaw dropped. “I can't believe you'd say such a thing.”
Charlotte's face glowed. Married men had made passes at her since she was in her teens, but never in front of their wives. This partnership didn't stand a chance.
“What?” Ralph said. “I'm just stating the obvious.”
“We know,” Shelby replied. “But look at her face. You're embarrassing her.”
Charlotte saw the quick exchange of a nod between the men and realized Ralph's intentions were to make her blush. He'd succeeded.
Shelby waved the men aside. “Don't pay any attention to them.”
“You're not much older than our girls.” Ralph laughed, putting her at ease. “So don't get upset if I treat you like a kid sometimes.”
Charlotte glanced at Jake, but he wasn't paying attention. Ralph Watts moved with an air of authority, and she'd felt slightly intimidated by his quiet confidence from the moment he'd walked in. Like his wife, he had an unusual way of breaking the ice.
“Now,” he continued, concentrating once more on the computer screen. “Tell me why you budgeted so much for linens.”
Feeling more comfortable, Charlotte slid her chair closer to the handsome, middle-aged man. “This was to be a topnotch bed and breakfast. Guests would've expected their sheets to be changed daily, and since all linens were to have the Hidden Hills logo embroidered in a corner, we had to allow for stealing. I thought it would be necessary to keep a large supply. You'll also notice the extra china and silverware.”
Ralph frowned. “What kind of clientele were you expecting â the county inmates?”
“Income level has nothing to do with taking souvenirs. Some of your nicest guests will pick up a small item and think nothing of it. We'd planned for ladies' groups, retirees, and people just wanting to get away for a quiet weekend.”
“Then we shouldn't embroider anything.”
Charlotte refused to give in on that point. “A lot of people consider it advertising, instead of stealing. I'm a pretty good seamstress, so if we invest in a smart sewing machine, then I'll do the monograming myself and save hiring it done.”
”Mmm.” Ralph conceded. “We do need the advertising.”
Their discussions ranged from liability insurance to toilet paper and everything in between before the evening was over. Even the kids took turns in voicing their ideas and opinions at the supper table.
After saying goodnight to Ralph and Shelby, Jake cradled her back against his broad chest. His arms rested comfortably around her shoulders, and she reached up to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
She sighed. “For finding the right people. Shelby's nice, and talking to Ralph is like being with my dad.”
“Ralph's not old.”
“He's mature and settled â just like my dad,” she said, feeling Jake's lips against her hair.
“His saying you're beautiful had nothing to do with it?” he said. “For the record, I think you're beautiful, too.”
“You do?” she said, turning in his arms, to hold him closer. “But you've never said anything.”
He frowned. “Why would I need to say anything? You've got a mirror.”
Her head dropped against his chest. Jake was clueless at romance. Had he asked her to marry him? She wasn't sure anymore.
“Tell me something.” The curious tone of his voice got her attention. “If Ralph is right, and you've got a head for business â which I'm assuming you do since the seven-year-old spread sheet is yours â what's with the dumb decisions about Hidden Hills?”
Charlotte eased out his arms, returning to the table where Ralph had left some notes of the updates needing to be checked. Jake had been quiet during the evening, only commenting after he'd been asked a direct question. Now she knew why.
“Seven years ago my life seemed safe â or so I'd thought. Mitch had a good job with a steady income, and we were financially secure. I loved being a stay-at-home mom after Becky was born â but I got lonely. Then one day, Mitch suggested I spend some time with his grandpa, so I did.”
“Go on,” he said.
Memories of the old man made her smile. “Charles Wills was quite a character, telling me things about the family even Mitch didn't know. Things like, one of his great-uncles being a sheriff in Texas at the turn of the century, and the guy's wife, the town dentist â stuff like you'd only read in books.”
“Anyway,” she continued, “spending our days at Hidden Hills was good for me. Grandpa believed in staying busy. The worksheet I did was for him, not me. His changes to the house were finished, and he needed another business venture. We spent most of the winter planning menus and listing everything we could possibly need to run the house. The problem was he'd borrowed more money than he'd realized, so our plans had to be put on hold. He started having health problems shortly afterward and lost interest.”
“It sounds like you loved the old man.”
“He was the grandpa I'd never had.”
The following week kept Charlotte busier than usual, since she had to revise the figures on her original spreadsheet. She'd either underestimated the cost of things, or prices had soared in seven years. Having finished the changes Ralph had requested, she found time to relax at her kitchen table and enjoy a fresh cup of coffee. It wasn't unpaid bills occupying her thoughts today, but the conversation she'd had with Shelby about refurnishing Hidden Hills.
Three years ago, when she and Mitch had moved in, the house had been entirely stocked with beautiful antiques. Instead of taking a chance on the children ruining anything, she had moved the downstairs furnishings up to the second floor into rooms they never used. She'd felt more at home living with their own furniture.
“Why so serious?”
“Just thinking about all I need to do.” She watched Jake drain the pot and sit it in the sink. It was the first time he'd been over all week, and she'd missed him.
He sauntered over to her side. “Ralph and I have been working on plans for adding the second waterline you were talking about. We'll save money by laying the pipe ourselves, so we're renting a trencher for the weekend.”
“I thought he was drawing up the contracts.”
He nodded. “Our Ralph is a man of many talents.”
“Would one of those talents be using a trencher?”
“No, that's my talent. I intend for him to use the shovel.”
Charlotte stood up, meaning to take a sip of his coffee, but noticed the cup was almost empty. “While you men are doing the grunt work, my girls and I will be shopping with Shelby â want more coffee?”
“No, this is plenty.”
She moved into the circle of his arms. His inviting blue eyes weren't to be ignored, but neither was Maggie's persistent tugging at her shirt hem.
“Mama, there's a cowboy at the door!”
Maggie's comment reminded her of the phone call she'd received earlier at work. Some guy with a Texas drawl saying something about mineral rights and e-mails, but she'd been too busy to talk. Leaving Jake to follow, Charlotte entered the living room and saw Maggie standing with her hands propped on her hips, talking through the screen door to a slim middle aged man.
“Mrs. McGregor?” There was a brief moment when she swore his handlebar mustache winked at her, but it was a quirk in his jaw. She put a hand over Maggie's mouth, in fear of what she might say.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“I'm Dennis Waters, of Samuel Jones and Associates,” he replied. “We spoke earlier.”
“Come in, please.” Charlotte welcomed the stranger into her home. She wouldn't have let him in at Hidden Hills, but with six other people in the house, how could she not feel safe?
When Jake and the lanky Texan in cowboy boots struck up a conversation like old friends, she decided it had to be a man-thing. At any rate, it gave her a chance to empty the room of curious kids.
She sat on the couch beside Jake, and watched as the man removed a stack of papers from an old briefcase. His weather-worn face and steady, gray eyes would have made her nervous had she been alone.
“Like I tried to explain on the phone, e-mails are fine, but I'm old fashioned. I like doing business face to face.”
She frowned. “What are we talking about?”
“Our phone call.”
“I don't know anything about e-mails⦔
He shuffled through the remaining pages in the case before finding the two he was looking for. “Isn't this your husband's e-mail address?”
Her blood boiled when she read the date, August 19, the day she'd told her in-laws she was looking for a smaller house. “I didn't send this.”
“Of course not,” Mr. Waters assured her. “It was sent by your father-in-law. I believe it's the one where he explains you were touring the Greek Islands at the time. He goes on to say, although he had your power of attorney, it would be better if we waited until December when you'd be back in the states, so you could handle your own affairs.”
Charlotte felt the pressure of Jake's hand on hers, taking it as a warning to keep her mouth shut. She didn't know this man, and she trusted Jake's instincts when it came to reading people. After all, he'd pegged Mitch's parents fast enough. “What brings you back so soon?”
His mustache wiggled. “Antsy investors. I signed the last of the other landowners yesterday afternoon. Then I swung by the courthouse to see Judge McGregor again about signing for you, but I missed him. The judge's secretary told me I'd find you at Milner's today. I hope my calling hasn't caused any problems.”