unknown.
Nope, she was done with insecurity and instability. And soon enough she’d be done with the black sheep who’d come back toclaim a worthless piece of land—not for a woman he’d looked right through the last time he’d seen her and would forget once he was a mile down the road.
Figuring the kitchen to be at the rear of the two-story ranch house, she ignored the strange twist in her midsection and hopped onto the porch. She pulled off her sunglasses and pulled open the screen door, stopping once she’d taken a step inside. Huh. The kitchen looked abandoned, as if Tess Dalton had been the last person to use it months ago.
The room was cool, though stale and musty; obviously, the window unit rattling above the antique sideboard hadn’t been on long. The floor was dull and dusty, the countertops, too. A dish drainer held a plate and a coffee mug, and a faded floral apron lay draped over the lip of the sink.
She swallowed, caught off guard and saddened by the sight, then startled at the sound of an indrawn breath. She wasn’t alone. Someone sat at the head of the table, arms crossed on the covering’s cracked yellow plastic, face down, hair spread around her shoulders in a honey-brown fan.
Arwen stepped closer, spoke a soft, “Hello?”
The other woman’s head came up. It was Darcy Campbell. She’d been sleeping, or crying, or maybe both, and she took several seconds to focus before offering a weak smile.
Weak enough to set off an alarm and urge Arwen forward. “Darcy? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I guess I fell asleep.” She swept her hands over a face that was pink with the sun and devoid of makeup. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”
“It’s almost seven. I brought supper.” Arwen gestured with her sunglasses toward the door. “But I’m thinking I’m in the wrong place.”
“I know, right? I thought the same thing when I got here. I expected either a sink full of dirty dishes, or a trash can full of beer bottles and bologna rinds.” She sat straighter, took in the kitchen. “It’s like no one has been here in months.”
Arwen’s impression exactly. “Are the boys sleeping in their trucks? Or the bunkhouse? And why, when they have this house?”
“I don’t know. I was going to find Dax and ask him. But after I plugged in the a/c, I waited to make sure it wasn’t going to short out the whole room.” She gave a small laugh. “Next thing I know, here you are, and the day’s half gone.”
The other woman’s explanation did little to dispel Arwen’s concern. Tossing her sunglasses to the table, she pulled out the chair at a right angle to Darcy and sat down. “Are you the one driving the Lasko truck?”
Darcy gathered her hair away from her face, twisted it, and held it against the back of her head. After several seconds with her eyes closed, she let it go and nodded in answer. “It’s a ridiculous soap opera of a story.”
No doubt it was also the reason she was alone in a deserted house, perspiration and tears dried in streaks on her face. “I’ve got time. If you want to tell it.”
“Trust me. It’s nothing.”
Arwen wasn’t having it. “It’s not nothing if you’re out here in one of the Lasko’s trucks, sleeping on a kitchen table in a very nice suit that, if you don’t mind me saying, has seen better days.”
Smiling absently, Darcy smoothed her skirt down her thighs. “I ran into Josh while walking in town. I was going to have him take me back to the office for my car, but he convinced me there was no need to risk seeing The Campbell. That I should just use his truck.”
The Campbell?
Oh, yes, of course. Wallace Campbell, Esquire. Never mind that Darcy had been walking in town to avoid him. “Is this about your dad and his dad and the lease that never was? Y’all butt heads or something?”
A deep vee appeared between Darcy’s eyes. “Seems everyone in town’s heard about it by now.”
Arwen nodded. “I pour shots for a lot of
Nope, she was done with insecurity and instability. And soon enough she’d be done with the black sheep who’d come back toclaim a worthless piece of land—not for a woman he’d looked right through the last time he’d seen her and would forget once he was a mile down the road.
Figuring the kitchen to be at the rear of the two-story ranch house, she ignored the strange twist in her midsection and hopped onto the porch. She pulled off her sunglasses and pulled open the screen door, stopping once she’d taken a step inside. Huh. The kitchen looked abandoned, as if Tess Dalton had been the last person to use it months ago.
The room was cool, though stale and musty; obviously, the window unit rattling above the antique sideboard hadn’t been on long. The floor was dull and dusty, the countertops, too. A dish drainer held a plate and a coffee mug, and a faded floral apron lay draped over the lip of the sink.
She swallowed, caught off guard and saddened by the sight, then startled at the sound of an indrawn breath. She wasn’t alone. Someone sat at the head of the table, arms crossed on the covering’s cracked yellow plastic, face down, hair spread around her shoulders in a honey-brown fan.
Arwen stepped closer, spoke a soft, “Hello?”
The other woman’s head came up. It was Darcy Campbell. She’d been sleeping, or crying, or maybe both, and she took several seconds to focus before offering a weak smile.
Weak enough to set off an alarm and urge Arwen forward. “Darcy? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I guess I fell asleep.” She swept her hands over a face that was pink with the sun and devoid of makeup. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”
“It’s almost seven. I brought supper.” Arwen gestured with her sunglasses toward the door. “But I’m thinking I’m in the wrong place.”
“I know, right? I thought the same thing when I got here. I expected either a sink full of dirty dishes, or a trash can full of beer bottles and bologna rinds.” She sat straighter, took in the kitchen. “It’s like no one has been here in months.”
Arwen’s impression exactly. “Are the boys sleeping in their trucks? Or the bunkhouse? And why, when they have this house?”
“I don’t know. I was going to find Dax and ask him. But after I plugged in the a/c, I waited to make sure it wasn’t going to short out the whole room.” She gave a small laugh. “Next thing I know, here you are, and the day’s half gone.”
The other woman’s explanation did little to dispel Arwen’s concern. Tossing her sunglasses to the table, she pulled out the chair at a right angle to Darcy and sat down. “Are you the one driving the Lasko truck?”
Darcy gathered her hair away from her face, twisted it, and held it against the back of her head. After several seconds with her eyes closed, she let it go and nodded in answer. “It’s a ridiculous soap opera of a story.”
No doubt it was also the reason she was alone in a deserted house, perspiration and tears dried in streaks on her face. “I’ve got time. If you want to tell it.”
“Trust me. It’s nothing.”
Arwen wasn’t having it. “It’s not nothing if you’re out here in one of the Lasko’s trucks, sleeping on a kitchen table in a very nice suit that, if you don’t mind me saying, has seen better days.”
Smiling absently, Darcy smoothed her skirt down her thighs. “I ran into Josh while walking in town. I was going to have him take me back to the office for my car, but he convinced me there was no need to risk seeing The Campbell. That I should just use his truck.”
The Campbell?
Oh, yes, of course. Wallace Campbell, Esquire. Never mind that Darcy had been walking in town to avoid him. “Is this about your dad and his dad and the lease that never was? Y’all butt heads or something?”
A deep vee appeared between Darcy’s eyes. “Seems everyone in town’s heard about it by now.”
Arwen nodded. “I pour shots for a lot of
Similar Books
