Where Secrets Sleep Page 8

  Disagreeing about something, Allison would guess, judging by the sulky look that settled back on to Krysta’s face.

  “I don’t see any reason why I have to hang around,” she muttered. “It’s just a bunch of old people making stupid conversation.”

  Allison had to suppress a smile. Krysta would probably class her with the old people and be surprised to learn Allison felt very much the same.

  “Don’t talk like that.” The words should have been a reprimand, but instead they sounded like a plea. “You know I wanted you here to meet your cousin Allison and make her feel welcome.”

  “Welcome!” Krysta threw off her mother’s hand with an impatient gesture. “Like anybody welcomes her. Why don’t you tell her the truth?” Her voice had risen, and Allison felt the embarrassment anyone experiences when someone else’s child is acting out in public.

  She took a step back, and the movement seemed to draw Krysta’s fulminating gaze to her. The girl’s blue eyes narrowed. “You want to know why Evelyn left Blackburn House to you? I’ll tell you. She wanted to humiliate us, that’s why.”

  Krysta’s voice had risen above the chatter of the crowd, and she seemed suddenly aware that people were staring at her.

  “You are behaving like a child, Krysta Conner. Perhaps you’d better go to your room until you can manage to act like an adult.”

  The woman who spoke had gray hair cut mannishly, a forbidding expression and a commanding voice. She stared Krysta down without apparent effort, and the girl turned and ran from the room, face flaming.

  Forced chatter resumed as people cast sidelong glances at Brenda, whose face was nearly as scarlet as that of her daughter’s.

  “Really, Julia, you didn’t need to speak to her that way.” Brenda’s protest was muted.

  “Someone had to. It should have come from you. You’re her mother. I’d suggest you develop some backbone before that headstrong daughter of yours does something you’ll both regret.”

  For an instant Allison thought Brenda would flare out. Then she shook her head and carried her plate over to a side table.

  The woman flashed a glance at Allison. “I always think one of the privileges of getting to be an ugly old woman is being able to say what you really think. I’m Julia Everly. I was a friend of your grandmother’s.” Her smile showed patently false teeth and gave her a shark-like look. “Well, sometimes we were friends and sometimes enemies. At least we were never boring.”

  Allison couldn’t help laughing. “I can readily believe that.”

  Julia gave an unrepentant grin. “You’re wondering why your grandmother left Blackburn House to you. Trust me, it wasn’t because of anything Brenda and Krysta said or did.”

  Allison studied her. Despite what she’d said, Julia wasn’t exactly ugly. With her round, wrinkled face and bright eyes she resembled an intelligent monkey. She would never have had the kind of classic beauty that Evelyn must have possessed, but she was instantly likeable.

  “Is this a guessing game or do you know why my grandmother left it to me?” she demanded, suspecting Julia preferred people to be as direct as she was.

  The woman shrugged. “Can’t say I knew everything she was thinking. Evelyn had a way of keeping her own counsel when she wanted. But I do know that she’d always planned to make provision for you. When your mother remarried, she said to me, ‘Julia, that little girl will be all right now, so I won’t rock the boat. But when I go, I’ll see that she’s taken care of.’”

  That didn’t answer all of her questions, but it was more helpful than anything else she’d learned since she came to Laurel Ridge. So, her grandmother had known about her life, even without contacting her. And she’d at least considered her.

  She realized Julia was studying her face and spoke quickly. “Thank you. I appreciate your telling me.”

  Julia squeezed her hand, and Allison felt the woman’s cluster of rings bite into her fingers. “Don’t you let anybody rush you into any decisions. That’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Come to lunch one day, and we’ll talk. I’ll call you.”

  “Thank you,” she said, before it occurred to her that she’d planned to be gone in a week’s time. But nothing seemed as clear-cut now as it had when she’d made that plan.

  By the time an hour had passed, Allison had been introduced to so many people and had made so much meaningless chatter that her head felt about to split. She caught a passing server and asked directions to a powder room, thinking to escape the noise for a few minutes.

  The girl pointed vaguely to the back of the center hallway, and Allison walked quickly in that direction. Surely she’d been here long enough to satisfy the demands of courtesy. She’d find Brenda and make her excuses.

  She opened the door at the end of the hall, took one step forward and froze. She’d wandered into the sunroom Tommy had spoken of, and she wasn’t alone. T.J. and Krysta were sprawled on a wicker sofa, with the girl’s dress pulled up nearly to her waist.

  The door swung shut behind her, and they both turned at the sound. T.J., eyes heavy-lidded and mouth swollen, looked both older and more dangerous than the prep-school image he’d projected earlier, while Krysta, paradoxically, looked younger and more vulnerable. She scrambled to her feet, smoothing her dress down.

  “I told you we shouldn’t.” Krysta’s voice quavered.

  “Didn’t figure on somebody spying on us.” T.J. got to his feet and took a swaggering step toward Allison. “What is it to you, anyway?”

  “It’s nothing to me what you do, T.J.” Allison kept her voice even. “But Krysta is my cousin.”

  Krysta seemed to regain her persona now that she was decently covered. “I don’t need a cousin like you.” She practically spat the words.

  “I’m not thrilled with the relationship myself,” Allison said. “Get back to the party, and I won’t say anything to your mother.”

  Krysta glared at her for a moment. Allison didn’t move. It would take more than a couple of spoiled teenagers to make her back down.

  Finally, muttering a vulgarity that Allison chose to ignore, Krysta ran out of the sunroom. T.J. gave her a head start, then strolled toward the door, brushing against Allison deliberately. Then he was gone.

  Allison let out a long breath. It had begun to seem that for every friend she made in this place, she racked up twice as many enemies. But Krysta, no matter how sulky and spoiled, was her cousin, and she couldn’t pretend that didn’t mean something to her, no matter how inconvenient.

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN a mistake to let his mother anywhere near Allison Standish, Nick decided as he drove to the bed-and-breakfast to pick up Allison for supper the next evening. Not that he could have prevented it.

  He might have known Mom couldn’t resist the temptation to start mothering Allison. Ellen Whiting collected strays the way some women collected shoes. It never seemed to occur to her that some of them might not want to be gathered up in her motherly embrace.

  He hadn’t missed the expression on Allison’s face when his mother insisted he’d come for her. It had probably mirrored his own. Well, they were both stuck.

  He’d be polite to Allison, of course. He just didn’t want to be entangled with the woman. She might very easily prove to be bad news for all of them. If she found some way of selling Blackburn House, he didn’t doubt that Thomas Blackburn would be waiting to snatch it up. He’d made no secret of the fact that he intended to buy the place as soon as probate was settled. He just hadn’t known that Allison would be the one to inherit. Heaven only knew what plans he might have for the place.

  And if Allison herself decided to run it, he could hardly think the situation would be much better. She had no knowledge of how things functioned in a town like Laurel Ridge, and obviously no desire to learn.

  He’d presented his role as mayor lightly when A
llison had asked about it, but it wasn’t as simple as he’d made it sound. He’d run for office because he thought Laurel Ridge needed protection from those who advocated change at any cost. Not that he was a reactionary, but Laurel Ridge was a good place to live and to raise a child. It deserved people in power who appreciated its positive qualities and took thought for its future instead of running after short-term profits.

  All things considered, the inhabitants of Blackburn House might be better off with Brenda Conner in charge. She was so obsessed with turning herself into the social leader her aunt had been that she’d be unlikely to rock the boat.

  He stopped in front of the bed-and-breakfast, got out and took a deep breath, feeling like someone who’d been coerced into a blind date with a buddy’s visiting cousin. That sort of thing never worked out well.

  By the time he reached the porch, Allison was coming to meet him. At least she hadn’t kept him waiting. He’d give her points for punctuality.

  She stepped forward to face him, and his breath caught. He’d have to change the comparison. This wasn’t in the least like going out with someone’s ugly duckling cousin. Allison wore a dress of sea green that matched her eyes and swirled around her legs with every movement. Her hair swirled as well, swinging glossy and smooth as silk, and the heels she wore made her legs seem to go on forever. With an effort, he tore his gaze from those legs—a little late, judging by her expression.

  “Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

  “Trust me, there’s nothing at all wrong.” She might be a bit overdressed for a simple supper at the Whiting household, but that didn’t mean her appearance wouldn’t be appreciated.

  When they reached the car, he opened the door for her and raised an eyebrow when she slid in without comment.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me you can open car doors by yourself?” He leaned against the frame of the door, looking down at her.

  She smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your mother.”

  Touché, he supposed. He got in without further comment.

  By the time they reached the end of town, which didn’t take long no matter which way one was going, he knew he’d better start a conversation if he didn’t want to ride in silence all the way home.

  “How was the party at Brenda’s?” His smile flickered. “Boring?”

  “Not really.”

  A glance at her face told him she was thinking of something in particular. A not very happy something, by the look of it.

  “What’s up? Was she chintzy on the refreshments? Evelyn didn’t entertain much, but when she did, there was a lavish spread.”

  She shrugged. “The food was fine. Catered, I suppose. I met some people who were...interesting. Do you know a woman called Julia Everly?”

  “Everyone knows Julia.” He relaxed into a grin. “She prides herself on being a character. Was she outrageous?”

  “Not to me. She was actually very friendly. I gathered she and my grandmother were good friends.”

  “Friends, enemies, sparring partners, you name it. She was probably the only person in Laurel Ridge who’d tell Evelyn what’s what. If you’ve talked to her, you’ll have realized that she doesn’t have a filter. If she thinks it, it comes out her mouth.”

  Allison’s face relaxed its watchful expression. “I did notice that she seemed to take pride in her bluntness.” She smiled. “She reminded me of Jamie, in a way.”

  “Right you are. Someone else without a filter. Still, that’s more normal when you’re six than when you’re seventy-six.” He shrugged. “I try to keep him from blurting out everything he thinks to strangers, but—”

  “Don’t discourage him,” she said quickly. “It’s delightful.” She shot a sidelong, smiling glance at him. “Especially what he repeated you had said about me.”

  “I’m sure.” He returned her smile, and their gazes tangled for heated seconds before he yanked his eyes back to the road.

  He could feel her intent gaze still on his face.

  “He mentioned his mother.”

  “Yes.” He clamped his lips shut on the word.

  “He said he doesn’t see her, but sometimes she sends him presents. At a guess, things that are inappropriate for his age and interests.”

  That startled him into looking at her again. “How did you know?”

  “Because that’s what my father did, too.”

  “I didn’t realize...” He did some reorganizing of the life he’d thought she’d lived. “How old were you when he left?”

  “Six. The age Jamie is now.” Her lips trembled a little, and she pressed them together for a moment. “I suppose you make excuses for her.”

  He shrugged. “What else can I do?”

  “Nothing, I guess. But he probably knows the truth. I always did.”

  He slowed, turning the car into the lane that led to the farmhouse, and she swung to face him. “I know it’s none of my business. But I wanted to say that it’s obvious that Jamie is very well loved and very confident. You don’t need to worry about his mother’s attitude affecting him. Not when he has all that love to rely on.”

  He stopped the car so that he could face her. “Thanks.” His voice had turned husky, and he was annoyed with himself for revealing so much to her. But it seemed she’d guessed it, anyway.

  He clasped her hand for a moment. There was more to Allison Standish than that polished, beautiful exterior. He might have to rethink the opinions he’d been forming about her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THERE HAD BEEN a moment of discomfort for Allison when she’d first entered the rambling old farmhouse, so different from the polished, static perfection of the house where her father had grown up. She was, she’d realized, overdressed for the casual country supper her hosts had planned. But by the time she’d held Jamie’s guinea pig, suffered through wet kisses from Shep, the collie, and helped set the long pine table for supper, she’d forgotten what she was wearing.

  Ellen, her pleasant face flushed from the heat of the stove, was so honestly happy to see her that Allison couldn’t doubt her welcome. Jamie bubbled with enthusiasm, wanting to show her everything at once and only deterred from dragging her to the barn by a quiet shake of the head from his grandfather. The elder James Whiting had a look of Nick in the strong bones of his face, along with an air of quiet dignity that she found appealing. Even Mac seemed to shed his law-enforcement persona while being scolded by his mother for coming in without wiping his shoes on the mat.

  As for Nick...well, it was fascinating to see what he was like in his own setting. He seemed to relax, all the tension gone from his face, and his laughter came easily.

  By the time the platter of roast beef was passed, Allison felt as if she were home again, with her two half brothers squabbling over who’d received the bigger portion.

  Nick reached across her to take the meat platter from his brother’s hands. “You don’t need to act as if you haven’t eaten in a week,” he said. “Give our guest a chance first.”

  “You mean you want her to pass it to you. If you’d had the workday I’ve had—” Mac began, winking at Allison.

  “Workday? Very funny. We all know you spend the day sitting behind the wheel of a patrol car. When you’re not wandering into the bakery for a handout.”

  “I’ll have you know I never accept bribes, even when they’re jelly donuts. It’s not my fault if Anna always gives me an extra-large serving.”

  “That extra-large serving will give you an extra-large waist if you don’t watch it,” his mother said tartly. “Now, you boys stop squabbling in front of Allison.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “Reminds me of my twin brothers when they were about ten or so.”

  “Ouch.” Nick’s eyes were laughing as he took the bowl of mas
hed potatoes from her. “How old are they now?”

  “Eighteen, and both of them driving. My mother says they’ve given her a whole crop of gray hairs.”

  “I know exactly what she’s feeling,” Ellen said. “Your mother remarried then, after your father...” She let that trail off, flushing a little.

  Allison nodded, ignoring the pause. “She and Dennis are great together.”

  “What are your brothers’ names?” Jamie slipped half a biscuit to Shep under the table. “Do they have any pets?”

  “Luke and Chad. We’ve always had cats and dogs. No guinea pigs, though.”

  Jamie grinned. “Sometimes girls don’t like to hold guinea pigs, but you did, didn’t you, Allison?”

  She evaded Nick’s gaze, knowing she’d see laughter there. “I sure did.”

  “And we have chickens, and ducks, and a milk cow, and two horses. We had a goat one year, but Grammy said it was too much trouble.”

  “Mac talked me into that one.” Ellen shot him a mock wrathful look. “He didn’t tell me it was a billy goat. Or that it would eat its way through any restraint and consume a whole row of tomato plants and half my dahlias.”

  “Guess that wasn’t the best idea I ever had,” Mac admitted.

  “It wasn’t the worst, either,” Nick retorted. “If Mom and Dad knew...”

  “Enough of your misdeeds,” his father said. “We probably already know. The two of you were never as sneaky as you thought you were.” He turned to Allison. “I understand you were invited to the Standish place.”

  Apparently everyone in town knew about her movements. Were other people talking about her supper with the Whiting family right now?

  Ellen made an impulsive movement toward her. “Now, don’t think we’re being nosy. It’s just that having you here is one of the most interesting things that’s happened in Laurel Ridge in a long time.”

  Allison smiled. “Not much must happen here, then.”

  “We have the usual small-town things to talk about,” Ellen said. “Who’s getting married, who’s breaking up, who must have had a good year because they’re going on a cruise. In a small place, you’re naturally interested in your neighbors.”