Your House or Mine?

“If you want to,” Meg said with an aloofness that disguised her very strong desire to have the window secure.

“Oh, I do,” Wade said. “If for no other reason than I need to establish my superiority over Mr. Cuddles.”

Meg headed for the cash register to pay for her coffee. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

Wade tossed a couple of bills on the counter and followed her outside. “Say, Meg, before you go, can you answer a question for me?”

“Depends on the question.”

“It’s about your Uncle Stewart.”

Meg’s interest was immediately piqued. Even though he’d died when she was only twelve, she remembered her Uncle Stewie vividly. He was so handsome sitting astride his prized Arabian mare and cantering gracefully around the property. And he was completely unpredictable in his antics. Like her brother Jerry, he made everyone laugh. “What about him?” she said.

“What did he do for a living?”

“He was an entrepreneur.”

Wade’s lips twitched as if he were trying to hide a smile. “That’s a little vague, isn’t it?”

Meg had never thought so. Even when she hadn’t understood what the word meant, she’d always believed that it described her uncle perfectly. “Maybe, but that’s what Aunt Amelia always called him.”

“So that’s how he made all his money, as an entrepreneur?”

“I suppose so. Plus his parents had a little money. His father was a cattleman on Florida’s west coast. Stewie dabbled in land development in this area, and I heard that he got in on the ground floor of a couple of profitable local businesses.” She shrugged. “I think my uncle was lucky to be in the right places at the right times.”

“Lucky, eh? I wonder if any of that Ashford luck rubbed off on you.”

“What do you mean?”

He lowered his sunglasses and peered at her with those interesting dark brown eyes. “Did you find the deed?”

We’re back to that again. “You seem awfully worried about that document, Wade, and you should be. I’ll definitely find it because it definitely exists.” She got in her car. “And when I do, you’ll be the first to know.” She shut the door but rolled down her window. “But since you brought up our little predicament, I’ll tell you about an idea I had.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m going to go through the boxes this afternoon with the idea of returning everything to the catalogue companies. My intention is to give you back the twenty thousand dollars.”

He twirled the sunglasses while giving her a bland stare. “I don’t want it back.”

“But that’s the perfect solution.”

“Not to me it isn’t.”

As if there weren’t a hundred houses to buy within a thirty-mile radius of hers! And to think Wade had called the store clerk unreasonable. “Look, Wade, I read the entire lease-option contract last night.”

“Good.”

“You only promised to pay a pittance of what the house and property are worth.”

“You call ninety-eight thousand dollars a ‘pittance’?”

“I certainly do. In Orlando…”

He tapped the insignia on his shirt sleeve. “This is Mount Esther. That’s what I like about this little town. The cost of living is quite reasonable, especially to a transplant who’s used to New York prices.”

“But even in Mount Esther a twelve-room house, a six-stall barn, and all that land—”

“—in good condition would be worth about one hundred and fifty thousand,” he interrupted. He put on his glasses and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve already put a couple of thousand into the house, borrowed from the Mount Esther Savings and Loan, and you can see that a complete renovation will cost much more.”

He’d borrowed money against her house? Meg gripped the steering wheel to control her temper. “If Ashford House is costing you so dearly, why not cut your losses, take the twenty thousand and go buy something that’s livable right now?”

“Don’t want to. Ashford House is perfect for my family. It’s a dream we can work on together.”

It’s my dream, too, damn it, Meg thought. My dream first.

“And besides,” he continued, “I don’t think you’ll get more than a small percentage of the twenty thousand back. Most of the items have been unpacked and put to use in the house. And I’ve read some of the labels on the boxes. They say a full refund is available within seven days. That time limit has elapsed. And since most of the purchases were made without the security of a credit card…”

“Enough.” Meg rolled her window up and jerked the gearshift into reverse.

Wade waved at her as she backed out of the parking space. “See you later, Meg,” he hollered.

She veered onto the road but resisted the urge to stomp on the gas pedal. With her luck, Murdock would race after her, lights flashing and siren blaring, just for the pleasure of giving her a ticket.

AS SHE APPROACHED the door to Amelia’s room in Shady Grove, Meg was immediately aware of a change in the environment. It was quiet. Yesterday she’d heard her aunt’s television well in advance of reaching her door. Today she heard nothing. At the threshold she looked down upon an empty bed, stripped of sheets.

Meg stood rooted in the doorway. “Oh, my God, no…”

A worker came up behind her, touched her lightly on her shoulder. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Meg whirled around and stared into the young woman’s face. “My aunt. She’s gone. What happened?”

The woman held up a stack of linens. “It’s not what you think. I’m just changing the sheets. Miz Ashford’s down the hall in the gathering room.”

Meg felt limp with relief. She held on to the arm of a chair until she caught her breath. “Of course. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

The woman set the sheets on a dresser, took the top one and flipped it open over the bed. The scent of bleach trailed in the wake of the fluttering cotton. “Five doors down,” she said. “You’ll find Miz Ashford.”

“Thank you.” As she walked down the hall, Meg was able to think logically again. Of course Amelia wouldn’t spend every waking hour in bed. The staff would encourage her to mingle with other patients, at the same time giving the employees opportunity to keep the rooms maintained.

At the door to the gathering room, Meg recognized the voice of Gene Rayburn coming from a big-screen television. Amelia was seated in a wheelchair several feet from the set. She was propped up with pillows and a thick floral throw covered her knees. She was, as yesterday, enraptured by the television show.

Meg looked at the screen and watched celebrities give answers on Match Game. She pulled a chair close to her aunt and sat down. “Good morning, Aunt Amelia,” she said.

Amelia glanced over and smiled. “Margaret, you’ve come back. I told them you would.”

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