“I don’t know,” Leah admitted, stirring a spoon in her tea and staring into the small whirlpool it created. “I think he has an appointment with the attorney this morning. He’s certainly not happy to be here so I can’t imagine him staying long.” Leah picked at a few spilled grains of sugar. “And he doesn’t want me here either. He made that very clear.”
Hazel and Marjorie each squeezed one of her shoulders.
“It’ll be fine, dear. Just you wait and see.” Hazel’s voice was kind. “Esther was as sharp as a steak knife. She did what she could to make sure you’d have time to plan your next move and finish her last book. And, if push comes to shove, I’ll swap my couch for a pullout. You can stay with me.”
Hazel lived in the timber-clad carriage house halfway down the drive. It was tiny—perfect for one, but a tight fit for more. Even a Leah-sized extra body. She shot Hazel a warm smile. “I won’t ask you to do that. But thank you.”
“‘Welcome change as the rule but not as the ruler,’” Marjorie quoted sagely.
“Who said that?” Leah asked.
“Gerry did, yesterday. But I think he must have read it somewhere.”
Hazel circled back to the matter at hand. “Jackson must have plenty of other demands on his time, anyway. I bet his father keeps him busy at Hale Evolution.”
“What do they do again?” Leah asked.
“It’s something to do with property development but I have no idea what they develop or where. You should look them up with the Google, dear.”
The diary and photograph slid into Leah’s mind as she mopped up the last swirl of maple syrup on her plate. “How old were you when you and Esther met?” she asked Hazel.
“Thirteen. Can you believe it! We were at boarding school together in England. I thought her American accent was so glamorous. We met on the first day of the first term, sitting at a double desk because our surnames ran consecutively in the alphabet.” Hazel sipped her tea. “We stayed close, even when she went to college and I went out to work. Barely a cross word between us in all the years.”
“And you came over here together?”
“We did. Esther’s parents wanted her to come back home. They imagined she’d work for a while until she found a suitable husband. That wasn’t on my radar. But you could never say no to Esther, and I fancied an adventure, so I packed up and followed her. Her family lived in Evanston then. I got a job, she married andraised her family, and I stayed. She was just someone you wanted to be around, wasn’t she?”
They all shared a smile, lightly dipped in melancholy. It was true. Esther, with her calm, clever reasoning, her quick humor and warm spirit, had drawn people to her like the summer sun. With her gone, everything was a little cooler, a little less bright.
Leah wondered if she should ask Jackson if it would be OK to give Hazel the photograph of her and Esther, or at least get a copy made. What to do about the diary was another matter. Protective over Esther’s private thoughts and memories, she hadn’t decided who to talk it over with yet. By rights, it should be Jackson, but could she trust him with something so personal? Plus they had a little way to go before she’d feel comfortable instigating that conversation. Leah’s resentment toward the Hales for their absence in Esther’s life resurfaced—Jackson included. He’d barely mentioned Esther so far.
It had felt strangely comforting to have company in the house again overnight, reluctant or otherwise. The last month had been achingly quiet with no one else around to break the silence. Though Leah had learned to be OK on her own, she’d missed hearing Esther’s irregular steps in the background and even her awful singing voice drifting up the stairs.
Weller’s Lake, on the outermost edge of Pine Springs, was far from a hub of activity, with only a smattering of properties along one side. The largest by far was Amity Court, and it sat on a sizable plot, with Hazel’s carriage house the only other residence in sight. For those times when they needed Marjorie and Gerry’s general store, takeout pizza, a hair salon, a coffee shop, library, or diner, the main street of Pine Springs was about twenty minutes’ walk away or a quick, five-minute drive.
Yesterday, when she’d gone upstairs to change into a warmer sweater, Leah had heard Jackson pacing the floor in his room andtalking on the phone. She hadn’t aimed to eavesdrop and couldn’t make out the words, only his low rumble—sometimes louder and sometimes quieter—as he moved around.
Later, in bed, she’d listened for his feet on the stairs, but for a big man he moved very quietly. Even so, she was as aware of his presence at the other end of the landing as if she could hear his heart beating.
Leah wound a loose lock of hair back into her bun and filed away the information Hazel had supplied to examine another time. “More pancakes, anyone?”
“Not for me, sweetie.” Marjorie straightened the knife and fork on her plate. “I need to get back for stocktaking in the store. Gerry will be cursing me if I’m much longer. He struggles to count at the same time as helping people find the eggs. It’s a multitasking issue.”
“I’ll walk out with Marj. Since there’s no eye candy for her to ogle and limited revelations for me, I’ll save a longer visit until next time.” Hazel’s smile was mischievous. She would likely entice Marjorie into her house to watch their favorite daytime TV show, stocktaking or no stocktaking.
Retrieving their multiple layers, Leah walked them to the door. It took the ladies five full minutes to get ready, but eventually she waved them off and watched as Marjorie’s car left gravel flying in its wake, before pulling up one hundred and fifty yards down the driveway.
With a grin, Leah gave the front door an extra kick to make sure it shut properly, and headed for the study. Everything was different without Esther; even pancakes were tinged with memories. The security Leah had trusted in was slipping away. And Jackson Hale didn’t seem the kind of man to ooze sympathy or understanding. He seemed like a man who always got his way.
How would he react when he learned he couldn’t evict her?
Chapter 4
Jackson
“Just give me a summary and cover the main bases.” On the opposite side of the desk to his grandmother’s attorney, Jackson leaned back in his chair.
Henderson cleared her throat, reassuringly candid in her role as executor. “Simply put, Esther left everything to you. It was originally split equally between you and Dominic but, in more recent years, she amended her will so that the house, its contents, and the residue of her estate, including royalties, all goes to you.” Jackson’s jaw tightened at the mention of his brother. “It’s all very standard, as far as that goes.”
