Hidden Hills (17 page)

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Authors: Jannette Spann

BOOK: Hidden Hills
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Gazing into his royal blue eyes, Charlotte leaned forward, forgetting about his promise not to rush, but unfortunately he hadn't. Instead of taking what she offered, his lips brushed her cheek as if marking the spot.

“It's just crow's feet.” Flustered he was making her wait, her eyes drifted shut when his lips moved to her other cheek. They were alone. The kids were back at his house, and she had the freedom to lose herself in his passionate kisses without being interrupted. Her arms circled his waist, drawing him closer as he tilted her face up to his. She waited.

“Charlotte.” He whispered her name, caressing the temples with his thumbs. His lips danced across her brow.

“Mmm.”

“I'll bet you color it, don't you?”

“What?” Her mind concentrated more on his misplaced kisses than what he was saying.

“Your hair — I'll bet you color it.”

She pushed him away. “You're checking my roots!”

His laughter was better than a bucket of cold water at restoring her senses. She raked her fingers through her disheveled hair and tried to cover her discomfort. Just as before, she was putty in his hands. The distinctive purr of Mark's antique sports car pulling into her drive saved her from further embarrassment. She hurried to the door.

Her brother-in-law bolted up the steps and pointed over his shoulder at her old hatchback. “Why don't you get a decent car?”

“It is decent.”

He stood in the doorway, comparing the two cars. “It's a pile of junk.”

Charlotte laughed. Her car had been a shared joke with Mark since the beginning, mainly because it was a sore spot with his parents. “Don't talk about my car — you'll hurt its feelings.”

“If it had any feelings, they rusted and fell off years ago!”

His kiss was accompanied by a good-natured hug, which Charlotte gladly accepted. “Hey, gorgeous… how's my girls?”

“One's doing fine, but the other's in trouble up to her cute little bottom!”

“I see.” He noticed Jake for the first time. “You must be her victim.”

Jake introduced himself. “I'm afraid so. It's nice of you to come out of your way.”

Mark wasted no time moving him into the bright light near the kitchen window. After looking at his scalp and feeling the textured stubble, he winked at Charlotte and scribbled on the prescription pad he'd taken from his back pocket. “This should take care of the problem. It does wonders for a baby's bottom.”

She did her best not to grin when Jake cut his worried eyes her way. “Am I going to lose the rest of my hair, doctor?”

Mark laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No, I don't think any permanent damage has been done. You were just sensitive to the glue. The worst part will be the itching when your scalp begins to heal, but this cream should help, and even replace some of the oils in your hair.”

Unconsciously, she began scratching her head, and Jake caught her hand.

“Do it again, and so help me I'll paddle your backside.”

She quickly locked her fingers together to keep them busy, although the thought of Jake's hands on her backside was quite appealing. “Sorry.”

Mark burst out laughing. “I'm leaving that problem with you. Mom's serving the main course about now, and if I don't get there soon, she'll feed mine to the dogs.”

“I'll call your office for the bill.”

Mark shook his head. “Since your condition is due to my niece's mischief, it just wouldn't seem fair.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Your head needs to be checked in a couple of days. You can see your own doctor, if you'd like, or come by my office.”

Charlotte quickly intervened. “Maggie has an appointment Tuesday after school for you to look at her arm. Can he come then?”

She glanced at Jake in time to see his relief when Mark said, “You won't need to register, just come into the examining room with Maggie.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The itchy scalp had dealt him misery all morning even though he'd already used half a tube of medicine. He stretched his shoulders and neck to get the kinks out. There wouldn't have been any kinks had he not wasted the last hour searching for discrepancies in a handful of invoices, because
somebody
had failed to check off the merchandise.

He scratched again, trying to think what he'd done to upset Maggie enough for her to do this to him. Uncapping the ointment, he smeared a large wad across his head and rubbed it in without the aid of a mirror. The cooling sensation brought instant relief, making him grateful to Charlotte's brother-in-law. Mark had not only saved him the embarrassment at the pharmacy by writing the prescription in Andy's name, but he'd convinced her to pick it up.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, and recalled the feel of Charlotte's arms, holding him tight. In all fairness, he should have warned her about the town busybodies… a good many belonging to their church. Not only was she beautiful, but she had spunk.

It took a lot of courage for her to sit in the same pew on her return trip. The two of them had been the main topic at several dinner tables around town — him for wearing a cap during preaching and her for running interference when Wylene Franklin demanded he take it off. It meant a lot to him.

Plenty of churches would have welcomed her and the girls with open arms, but he wanted them to worship with his family. If anyone ever needed the loving fellowship of God's people, it was Charlotte. Loneliness had been a big part of her when she'd moved next door, but not anymore.

He needed to be in the store working, but he was tired of everyone staring at his cap. Rocking back in his chair, he stretched his legs again and readjusted the cap to cover as much scalp as possible. The door flew opened and Sara, Betty's mom, rushed in to let him know Judge Tom McGregor was there to see him. His mother-in-law was a sweet person — and his best buyer — but it irritated him to no end when she made a big show over wealthy people and ignored the less fortunate.

“Send him in” had been a waste of words since the man was right behind her. Jake rose, offering his hand. “What can I do for you?”

“I'm here on behalf of my daughter-in-law,” the judge said, giving the impression he had her best interest at heart.

Jake wanted to make sure they were on the same page. “Are we talking about Charlotte?”

“Ah… yes. I've been told you're thinking of buying Hidden Hills.”

It was a statement, blunt and to the point. Therefore, it needed no answer. Not that he felt like giving one. He waited while the tall, distinguished man slid into the chair directly across from his desk. The judge reminded him of a sleek fox and appeared to be just as cunning. Charlotte's distrust of her father-in-law was understandable, and he was inclined to agree with the late Charles Will's opinion of the man.

The judge crossed his legs and pinched the crease in his wrinkle-free trousers. His perfectly tailored suit, crisp white shirt, and expertly knotted tie went along with his pretentious attitude. On the surface he appeared relaxed, but Jake sensed a rigid control at work. Noting the arrogant tilt of Tom McGregor's head made his hackles rise. He didn't like the judge.

“I'll get right to the point. You see, my daughter-in-law has received a firm offer for her home. It's quite generous, and I can't see her turning it down.”

“I see.” Jake took a moment to consider this latest turn of events. If he was telling the truth, then Charlotte could get on with her life. “So she's already made her decision to accept the offer?”

“We've discussed the situation, and like I said, it's a generous offer.”

Jake nodded, disappointed she hadn't confided in him. “Too bad — it's a nice place.”

His business done, the judge stood. “I just thought since I was in the neighborhood, I'd drop by and save you the trouble of making an offer.”

He'd heard more believable lies coming from his boys, but common courtesy dictated he see the man out. A firm offer to buy could explain surveying the estate, but there was still the question of Sam Drenfield's property. Was the same person buying both places?

“My boys would have loved the creek. Do you get a chance to do much fishing?”

The judge shook his head. “No, I'm not much of a fisherman. I stay busy most of the time, but I try to fit in a few rounds of golf when I can.”

Something didn't feel right, and he refused to let it rest until he knew what it was. He began by calling Charlotte at the Beauty Boutique to see if she'd heard from her realtor, or talked with her father-in-law. She hadn't, which meant Tom McGregor was lying.

Jake had come to rely on his instincts. He'd met Charlotte's in-laws and wasn't impressed. They seemed to want Hidden Hills and the neighboring property bad enough to run off any potential buyers. What he wanted to know was why?

According to Charlotte, Ellen McGregor had refused to live in the country, so what was left? Buy for pennies on the dollar and sell to a buyer they already had lined up? Maybe, but there was always the possibility they wanted it for a business venture of their own. The house was in excellent shape, and a lot of people were opening their older homes to the public as bed and breakfasts.

Lunch had been the only thing on his mind when the judge had dropped in. Now he wasn't hungry anymore — just curious. It only took a second to search the net for the state tourist bureau. “And there it is…”

The arrogance of Tom McGregor made his blood boil. Not waiting for the foreclosure, the cocksure buzzard had gone online, advertising Hidden Hills as a country resort offering fishing, hiking, and horseback riding. Reservations were being taken beginning in March the following spring.

Jake rocked back in his chair, chewing his lip while concentrating on the webpage in front of him. Assuming the foreclosure took place by mid-December, it allowed only three months for renovations. Were the McGregors guessing when her money would run out, or had they accessed her bank account?

Hitting the send button, it only took a moment to e-mail a copy of the Hidden Hills webpage to Ralph. His lawyer would know if what they were doing was legal. Before logging off, he downloaded a copy for his own use. He'd sworn not to get involved in anyone else's business, but circumstances change. There had to be some way to stop the judge from destroying her life.

Sara rushed back into his office, her arms piled with ladies' tee-shirts and a frown on her face meaning trouble. “Just look at this. I ordered first quality, and these aren't fit for the thrift store!”

“So? Send them back.”

“I intend to.” Her attention focused on the clock above the file cabinet. “If you're taking the neighbor's kid to the doctor this afternoon, you'd better get cracking.”

Her bossy attitude irritated him at times, but she was Betty's mother and had been with the store since the beginning. He tugged his cap lower. “Maggie.”

“What?”

“Her name is Maggie.”

“Well, you'll be mud if you don't hurry.”

He ruffled through the folder until he found the invoice for the shirts. “Adjust the account and make sure we don't get struck with the shipping.”

“Yes, boss,” came the smart-alecky reply from behind her bifocals. “We're taking bets on why you're wearing the silly cap. You can let us know who's right when you feed us, and by the way, the winner gets the day off.”

“You don't say?” The dinner had slipped his mind. He was glad she'd reminded him of his promise. Reaching out, he mussed her hair until it stood on end. “See if they take bets on what you've been up to.”

Sara swung a shirt at him, but her short arms missed their mark. “You're as bad as our boys. No wonder they're brats!”

Jake laughed going out the door. His employees could wager all the bets they wanted, but he wasn't taking off the cap. He'd never live it down if he did.

The doctor's office should have been a twenty-minute drive, but he'd forgotten about the road construction. Now he was locked in school traffic, crawling at a snail's pace with Andy and Maggie in the back seat. It was hard to believe the noisy little chatterbox was as quiet as a mouse.

He glanced in the mirror at the red curls and wondered how someone so precious could be related to the man he'd met earlier in the day. “Did you say something?”

“Uh-huh. I said I'm sorry.”

“About what?”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her chin drop while she concentrated on scratching inside her dirty cast. “I'm sorry I glued your head.”

“Why did you do it?” He was surprised she'd finally owned up to it, even though her mother had scrubbed both hair and glue from her hands.

“So you'll be pretty like my daddy.”

Talk about an ego buster. He'd seen pictures of her dad on their living room wall. “But why?”

“So you can be our new daddy.”

It was high praise for him, but it would probably have Charlotte running for the hills. There was no denying the kids had bonded, fighting one minute and defending each other the next. If things didn't work out, there would be five broken hearts, six if he counted his.

“Why don't we let it be our secret?”

After passing the construction site, the traffic moved more freely, and he was able to reach Wills' Junction before closing time at the clinic. Thankfully, the doctor's parking lot was empty, except for the familiar antique sports car and a red muscle car.

They appeared to be the last patients of the day, but it didn't seem to bother the young nurse in banana-print scrubs. She gave the kids suckers and waited while Maggie stepped on the scales. When her vital signs were taken, the girl showed none of the reluctance his boys would have had in a similar situation.

“Uncle Mark lets Becky and me be last ‘cause him and Mama like to talk.”

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