Ray looked out over his kingdom. “Dad and I built the first section of Lynnwood with private financin’, and it sold so well the bank couldn’t turn us down. Besides, we got an attorney who knows our rights better’n we do.”
Jase nodded, understanding perfectly. “And success is sweet, especially when you’re sticking it to The Man, right?”
The two men looked at each other, grinned, thumped fists, and knocked elbows.
*
Laurel woke up late and took her time getting dressed, pairing a lime green tee with yesterday’s shorts. The world hadn’t exploded yet, so she thought she’d risk baring her legs again. Maybe she’d even get herself a couple more pairs of shorts, which would certainly be a lot cheaper than turning up the air-conditioning.
She posed in the standing mirror, twisting from one side to the other to study herself. Her legs looked okay—slender but not skinny, and her ankles were narrow. Her knees were nice too, their bones well-defined, with no extra flesh alongside. She hoped Jase had noticed.
A rush of heat suffused her. Last night he’d noticed everything.
She pulled up the sheet and topped it with a light summer spread. Why did she even bother? It seemed a futile, given the amount of time they spent rumpling the covers.
Going downstairs, she made herself some coffee and read the latest Retriever. Sawyer was on a new campaign, this time to have Bosque Bend High School resurrected as a museum housing memorabilia from the town’s past, going as far back as the Huaco Indians. Laurel didn’t hold out much hope for this particular project succeeding, but, on the other hand, she hadn’t thought the Shallows would ever be turned into a riverside park either—and the Retriever had been the first to propose the idea.
Art had also written a long diatribe on the indolence of Bosque Bend youth, one of his favorite topics.
Where did the drive come from to publish what was basically a personal-opinion tabloid? Everyone knew advertising was tight and that Sawyer operated on a shoestring budget, but, for as long as she could remember, the Retriever had appeared on the doorsteps of Bosque Bend every Wednesday and Saturday. Arthur Sawyer could be cranky, but he was also an idealist, and Bosque Bend needed his voice. Besides, he’d been kind when Daddy fell into disgrace, not mentioning a word about it in print. He hadn’t run obituaries for Mama or Daddy either, which would have riled up the populace all over again.
She finished the paper and laid it aside for Jase when he returned from his meeting with Ray Espinoza.
Taking another sip of her coffee, she leaned back against the counter. Would this be the day when her idyll came to an end? She was becoming more and more fatalistic. If Ray said something to Jase about Daddy, there was nothing she could do about it. The truth was bound to come out sooner or later.
The phone rang. Her Realtor? She put down her cup and raced to the den.
“Ms. Harlow? This is Kel. Do you have time for me this morning?”
“Oh—I stood you up yesterday, didn’t I?” How rude of her. She’d dashed out of the house and spent the best part of the morning in Piggly Wiggly, trying to put together a decent meal for Jase.
She glanced at the wall clock. “Um, how about now? I should be free for a while yet.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right over.”
*
He was wearing a faded UCLA tee with his jeans today.
How in the world had this sweetheart ended up in Hollywood? Sure, he was tall, probably over six feet, but he didn’t look tall, maybe because she had gotten used to Jase’s six five. Or maybe because of his soft voice and sweet smile. If she’d had a brother, she would have wanted him to be just like Kel.
He smiled a greeting, wiped his feet on the doormat, and stepped over the threshold. “I really appreciate you letting me see Kinkaid House. I’m trying to get a feel for Garner’s Crossing and Benjamin Franklin Chapman.”
They walked down the hall to the drawing room. “You’re a set designer?”
He paused and gave her another one of his soft smiles. “Didn’t Pendleton tell you? I’m an actor. I’ll be playing Benjamin.”
“Erasmus? But he…” She’d read Swaim’s book too, and how could she tell this nice young man that he was the wrong type to play her great-grandfather? Erasmus was not just a rascal, but a strong-willed opportunist, even a bit of a villain.
Kel looked around the room slowly, as if soaking in the antique atmosphere, then turned to her, still smiling.
“Pen said there was some bad feeling in town about the book, but I promise you I’ll try to portray Benjamin—Erasmus—in a positive light. He was quite multifaceted, from what I’ve read, and I’ll try to show all sides of him.”
“I’m sure you will.” Including the quadroon mistress and the brothel down near the railroad tracks?
He studied the dark rectangles on the wall. “You’ve removed several paintings recently.”
“Yes, I’ll probably relocate to South Texas, so I’ve put them in storage while I sell the house.” Actually, she’d sold them last year to pay for the cost of Mama’s interment.