Mostly built.
“I guess that makes sense. Let them build up reviews on Couch2Castle before you expand your portfolio.”
The noise was getting louder, and it provided a welcome distraction from arguing with Marielle. Nolan couldn’t afford to alienate her, not when she was the best interior designer in town. The only interior designer in town. There wasn’t much call for fancy furnishings in Mason’s Hill, but she made a living catering to the wealthy folks who bought second homes in the area. She’d remodelled the entire interior of the Cranstons’ Colonial Revival-style home.
“The helicopter is heading here,” she said. “Are you expecting a buyer?”
“Not today.”
She giggled. “Do you have any rich friends?”
“One, but he’s married.”
Brax could certainly afford a helicopter, although he didn’t own one as far as Nolan knew. And nobody from Blackstone House was on the breadline, not after Alexa had distributed stolen money like candy one Christmas. Nolan hadn’t intended to spend his share, not when Ruby paid for that cash with her life, but then the vineyard winery needed a new roof, and the old grape press stopped working, and the seasonal workers deserved a good wage, and… He’d pay back the money. He would. Not to its original owners—Levi’s mom had passed now, and Nolan had no idea where his dad was—but he planned to donate a hefty sum to a domestic violence charity as soon as he could afford it.
Which wouldn’t be any time soon, not if they didn’t get some rain. Last year’s harvest had been spectacular, but the fruits of Nolan’s labour had run down the drain, quite literally, and the ongoing drought meant this year’s grapes weren’t looking good.
“Married? Happily married, or too-stubborn-to-get-a-divorce married?”
“Happily, this time around. He already did the divorce thing.” Sunlight glinted off the helicopter’s silver fuselage as it descended still farther. Was it landing?
“Maybe you forgot another appointment?” Marielle suggested.
His schedule had disappeared along with the accounting system when the laptop broke, but he’d called pretty much everyone now. Each appointment was carefully written on a paper calendar, which seemed a lot safer than relying on electronics again, plus it was a Sunday. He never scheduled client visits on Sundays.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Juno, Nolan’s German shepherd, ran out of the house and began barking at the sky. Marielle took a step back when the dog came close. She was a self-confessed cat person, and although she’d never complained about Juno the way Lisanne did, it was obvious she preferred the dog to be elsewhere. The feeling was mutual, although Nolan was too diplomatic to point that out.
The helicopter cleared the copse of trees near the house by three feet and settled onto the grass beyond, scattering chickens in all directions. Nolan grabbed Penelope the Rhode Island Red before she could run down the driveway, and his mouth set into a hard line as he marched toward the silver beast, ready to give whoever was on board a piece of his mind for showing up without an appointment and also for parking their aircraft like a douche.
But politely, because he still needed to sell wine.
He got his first surprise when the pilot jumped out, casual in black cargo pants and a tank top, and he realised it was a woman.
His second surprise came when he recognised her.
“Jerry?” His voice got lost in the noise from the slowing rotor blades, and he tried again, louder this time. “Jerry?”
Jerry Knight had lived at Blackstone House, the third woman to call the old place home. Although Jerry had been more of a tomboy. She’d also been a cold, crazy bitch, and it looked as if not much had changed.
She grinned, then smirked as she cut her gaze sideways to where Marielle was trying to hold down her hair with one hand and her skirt with the other. Her carefully painted olive-name signs lay abandoned in the dirt.
“Aw, you didn’t forget me,” Jerry yelled back.
“Get that damn helicopter away from my chickens.”
“Relax, I didn’t land on any of them.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Someone had to make sure Alexa arrived safely. Good to see you too.”
Nolan squinted at the helicopter, but the glare bounced off the windows and nearly blinded him.
“You brought Alexa?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
