‘Of course. You’re welcome to pop in anytime, although I know William will want to make his famous scones, so you might give us a little notice.’
‘I will, and thank you for the invitation.’
‘Naturally, Becca is welcome, too, when you do come, but . . .’ Two blobs of heat flared in his plump cheeks. ‘We did ask her once before — through Deke — but we never heard anything back. I’m sure she was terribly busy and still trying to settle in.’
It struck her as sad that Becca hadn’t got to know her neighbors, except for Griff, and even he was more Deke’s friend. She pulled herself up short. She’d absolutely no right to condemn her sister. Becca had married a man she’d only known a few months, moved four thousand miles away from everything and everyone she knew, acquired a stepson and had a baby — all in little over a year. No wonder she was struggling to find her feet. Lyndsey had lived in her flat near Truro for over five years and still barely knew the names of her neighbors. She’d certainly never been invited to tea with any of them.You haven’t invited any of them in over the doorstep either, she thought.
‘Off you go, and we’ll see you soon.’ Harold smiled at Nora in farewell, then trotted off back to his house.
She started off again, taking a good look around as she walked. The narrow road dead-ended at these few homes. It was a pretty enough spot but paradise? That was stretching it.
Why the original settlers described this as a valley was a bit of a mystery, although she supposed the ridgeline of gentle hills in the distance could conceivably give that impression. Perhaps the Grey family’s life in Kentucky was hard and thisplace offered something different. People needed the right place to flourish, too.
She was sounding daft. Her brain must still be jet lagged.
In another few weeks the temperature would heat up even more, but today, she relished the warm sun on her skin. Back home she was one of the few people who soaked up Cornwall’s rare, brief heat waves, her only complaint being they never lasted long enough for her liking.
She’d worked hard to become indifferent, showing no interest in anything to do with the Caribbean side of her heritage, but the occasional pang of resentment sneaked in that her biological father’s family wanted nothing to do with her. A few years ago, her mother tentatively suggested they made another attempt to reach out to them, but Lyndsey stamped on it immediately. She had no intention of being rejected again.
Stopping Nora’s stroller at the curve in the road, she studied Ruth Mae Grey’s dilapidated cabin. The roof sagged. Strips of wood were nailed over a broken window. The narrow porch was missing several uprights and on the verge of collapse. Nobody should be living there, let alone a solitary old woman. Her gaze landed on an elaborate stone bird bath rising up from the middle of the unkempt grass. Too ornate for its mundane surroundings, the intricately carved mermaid with long hair reaching the top of its tail held a scalloped seashell in one elegant outstretched hand.
‘What’re you starin’ at, girl?’
She hadn’t noticed a stooped figure dressed all in black and holding a battered watering can.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was admiring your bird bath. You must be Miss Grey.’
‘Who says so? I don’t know you from Adam.’ The woman hobbled across, leaning heavily on a stout wooden stick. ‘I s’ppose you’re with that party who turned my family’s house upside down?’ Her dark hooded eyes scrutinized Lyndsey.
‘My sister and her family live in Grey House, if that’s what you mean.’ She could give as good as she got; old or not, Miss Grey clearly hadn’t mellowed.
‘They’ve no right to use that name.’
‘I’m sure they only wanted to honor the heritage and history behind the building, not offend you. I’d love to hear more about it one day.’
Her adversary snorted.
‘I’m not surprised your family chose to settle here. It’s a pretty spot.’ She applauded herself for the slight lie when the faintest hint of softening worked around the woman’s thin, tight mouth. ‘I’m Lyndsey Carne, by the way. I’ve come from England to help take care of my new niece. Her dad’s going on tour tomorrow for three months.’ She pointed in the stroller. ‘This is Nora. She’s about seven weeks old.’
Lyndsey managed to hide her surprise when Miss Grey shuffled closer and peeked in at the sleeping baby, stretching out a finger gnarled with arthritis to stroke the pink blanket.
‘We came out for a long walk, but I haven’t got very far yet, not that I’m complaining. Harold Morton stopped me first for a pleasant chat, and now I’ve met you.’
Miss Grey pulled back her hand as if she’d been stung. ‘I don’t have nothin’ to do with him or hisfriend,’ she boasted. ‘Or that Yankee woman and the long-haired man who looks like he’s never done a day’s work in his life. They’re not the kind of people my kinfolk would want living on their land.’
‘Times change,’ she murmured. ‘They all seem really friendly. I’m sure they’d be good, helpful neighbors if you let them.’
‘I don’t need anyone’s charity,’ Miss Grey bristled. ‘Don’t you go bothering me none again.’
Lyndsey resisted the urge to point out she hadn’t started the conversation in the first place. Politely she said goodbye and carried on down the road. Something needed to be done for the frail, lonely old woman, because that’s what she was at the end of the day. A smile played around her mouth. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate already. She really needed to add getting tangled up with a dangerously interesting man and a bitter old woman.
* * *
Griff strolled out on the patio and sniffed appreciatively at the mouthwatering scent of smoke and steak. ‘Boy, nothing smells quite like that!’
‘The meat’s just gone on.’ Deke glanced around from the grill.
‘You ready for a beer?’
