Essie interrupted her. “Absolutely not! Aunt Esther did exactly the right thing by making sure you’re taken care of after all these years you’ve kept Ferguson’s Folly going. And I’m going to rely on your assistance just as much as my aunt did. Unless you’d rather retire?” She had to at least offer that opportunity to the older woman.
“Pfft! Like I’d be happy in a rocking chair watching soap operas. I will admit some of the heavier cleaning jobs are beyond me now.”
Essie could tell the housekeeper had hated admitting she needed help. “We are definitely going to need to increase the number of hands around here. I’m going to count on you for your insight in choosing who will benefit us the most. And I’ll be here as well. Put me to work too.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…”
Interrupting Sara, Essie rushed to assure her, “Yes, you can. In fact, I’m counting on you to direct everyone. Okay?”
Her inner struggle to agree showed on Sara’s face. Essie took abite of the cookie and chewed, giving the housekeeper time to think. “These are so good.”
“You don’t have to butter me up, young lady. Fine. I’ll create a list of jobs that need to be completed, and everyone can pitch in.”
“Thank you, Sara. That would be perfect. Would you like me to share what I’ve decided for the future of Ferguson’s Folly?” Essie asked.
“Yes, please.” The older woman sagged with relief, and Essie immediately realized how disconcerted Sara must have felt—Esther’s death had pulled the rug out from under the housekeeper’s feet.
“I’m going to make the estate a premier location for events. Like tea parties, weddings, balls.”
“Oh, we haven’t had a ball here for years. I had to be in my twenties. I’d love to see the ballroom used again.”
“Me, too. I would never be happy just lazing around doing charity work. This will give me a job and create income to sustain Ferguson’s Folly for years to come,” Essie said. She forced herself to pull her head out of the clouds and face reality.
“This idea is going to take a lot of work and an investment. There’s always a risk I won’t be successful. But if I do nothing, the estate will run out of money. I don’t want to see a row of apartment buildings and strip centers filling this land.”
“That would be horrid!” Sara agreed. “So, where do we start?”
“I think we already have. Ivan Clarke is coming tomorrow to walk through the property. He’s already said something about wood rot. That sounds expensive.”
Sara nodded her head. “It does. But if he’s fixing that while he’s making the improvements you need, that’s efficient. Do you know about Ivan?”
“No. What can you tell me?” Essie asked, leaning in eagerly.
“He’s a good man. Reliable and trustworthy. He won’t try to gouge you on prices, and he’ll work from sunup to sundown. He needs to earn money.”
“Why?”
“His sister has cancer. She discovered the tumor after her divorce. She quickly lost her job and her insurance. Ivan moved her in with him, and he’s supported her for a couple of years. He’ll bring her in to help. Tiffanie is fragile but fierce. She’s also a trained interior decorator with an amazing talent.”
“I bet that’s why Edmund signaled me to hire him,” Essie said.
“Probably. Ivan’s also much better than a big company that will outsource the work to some crew that doesn’t care. The job may take longer, but anything he does will be perfect the first time.”
How would she ever have done this without everyone’s help? Essie popped the last bite of the cookie into her mouth. Thank goodness she didn’t need to. She smiled at Sara and crossed her fingers under the table.Please let this work out.So many lives were becoming entwined in the success of her ideas.
“I almost missed the blue cookies?” Zander observed from the kitchen doorway.
“I thought you were coming back tomorrow?” Essie glared at him.
“Let me freshen up the tea,” Sara said, standing up to turn on the flame under the kettle.
A flashback to how awful she’d looked this morning popped into Essie’s mind. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Do you always just show up?” she asked.
“I have a standing invitation,” Zander said smoothly as he sat down at the table.
“From whom?” Essie demanded.
“Esther. Thank you, Sara,” Zander said as he helped himself to the cookie Essie had planned to eat next.
