The Wedding Guest (Colorado Billionaires Book 5) (7 page)

“I’m sorry, you two. But the wife is waiting for me at home. Closing time.”

In unison, they checked their phones.

“Ten o’clock! How did that happen?” Madlyn was amazed.

The rain had stopped, replaced by the beginnings of what would become a morning fog. They huddled close and walked together to the car. Kirby turned the heater all the way up. Madlyn didn’t care. The B&B was only two minutes away. If she could, she would have stayed in the car with him forever. Or at least another four hours.

At the B&B, he walked her to the door of the annex where she and Vicky were staying, took her hand, and pressed a kiss to it. “I—I—That is, if we’re all still here in the morning….”

“Well, that’s a cheerful start,” murmured Madlyn.

Kirby gave her a wry grin, then began again. “Maybe we could run away again tomorrow? Let Vicky and Brewster do the hard work up at the Manse?”

“I’d love to,” said Madlyn. “I’ll have to check with Vicky. We’ve hardly spent any time together since we arrived.”

Kirby nodded and shrugged as if she’d rebuffed him. “I understand.”

“No! No, really. I mean yes. Yes, I want to spend the day with you tomorrow.”

“If we’re all still here.”

Madlyn nodded, unable to speak. She was wrapped up in whatever he was doubting, whatever he was worried about. She was wrapped up in him.

Unwillingly, Kirby pulled a few inches away. “I need to let you go inside.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll go now.”

Madlyn smiled. “Okay.”

“Tomorrow.”

Madlyn nodded. He wiggled his fingers goodbye and began walking slowly toward the front door of the B&B, around the corner.

Madlyn opened the door with a twist of her key and closed it silently behind her. She had the uncanny feeling that she’d misplaced something. Then it came to her. Her heart was walking around the building with Kirby.

And her jacket was still in his car.

CHAPTER TEN

Thursday morning, November 19th, 7:00 a.m.

M
adlyn couldn’t refuse Vicky’s request to stroll into the village and look for some coffee and pastries.

“We came to spend time together,” said Vicky, “and it turns out I have to spend all my waking hours at the Manse. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Madlyn. Her jacket was still in Kirby’s BMW, so she pulled her new creamy fisherman’s sweater over two layers of pink and orange tees. The sweater hung halfway down her thighs. She was glad she was wearing jeans again. The Pawling air was foggy and chilly.

Equally bundled but wearing a suede coat lined with lamb’s wool, Vicky thrust her hands in her pockets, glancing sideways at Madz as they walked. “You really like him a lot, don’t you? Did you have fun yesterday?”

“It was wonderful,” said Madlyn. “He’s so funny and attentive. And gorgeous.”

They both laughed.

“You should have woke me up last night. I wanted to hear all about your evening, but I was wiped out. Did you go to dinner?”

“We stayed in Pawling and had pizza. We closed the place down. The owner had to ask us to leave. We talked and laughed for hours. We have so much in common.”

“Excellent!” Vicky beamed at her. “He’s really a nice guy. Brewster thinks the world of him.”

“That’s good to know,” said Madlyn, thinking that Kirby might get away with taking a few days off if his boss was fond of him.

It didn’t take long to reach the large brick building that housed several small businesses along the main street. The pizza parlor was at the far end, but they stopped at the second door where a tiny cafe offered freshly brewed coffee and an array of pastries. The menu also described a selection of eggs and related choices.

Vicky chose croissants and a latte. Madlyn had a warm cinnamon roll, a scrambled egg, and hot chocolate.

Settled at a small table, they ate slowly and savored the moment. As the morning light grew stronger, the mist began to lift. Cars buzzed along the street, but there seemed to be little activity at the train station.

“I thought commuters would be filling the platform,” said Madlyn.

Vicky cupped her hands around her latte. “They’ve already gone. They have to leave time to get to wherever they’re going after they reach the station in the City. They probably left at six or so.”

“No way! That’s a lot of commuting every day.”

“I agree. I much prefer living in Eagle’s Toe,” Vicky said.

“Me, too. Do you think a man like Kirby might ever consider trying life in a small town?”

Vicky suppressed a knowing smile. “With the right incentive, he might find it appealing.”

“He’s such a world traveler. But he did say he needs to be in the States for a while.”

“Brewster told me Kirby’s mother died in a tragic mountaineering accident when he was twenty, and ever since, Kirby has been trying to run away from everything associated with losing her. That’s probably why he’s been traveling so much.”

Madlyn’s brow furrowed. “Maybe I should be talking to Brewster, too.”

Vicky laughed softly. “If I learn anything new, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Madlyn speared her last bite of cinnamon roll. “He’s really special. He loves my hair. Do you think that’s enough to build a relationship on?” She sipped at her drink.

“I’m sure your hair is only a small part of what he loves,” said Vicky, teasingly. “Otherwise he’d be walking around with a red wig on his arm.”

Madlyn nearly choked on her hot chocolate.

After breakfast, they allowed themselves a brisk walk to view the old houses along the road. Some looked like they were barely hanging on, but others were freshly painted and clearly well cared for. At last, Vicky checked the time.

“We’d better head back,” she said. “At least our walk will burn off some breakfast calories.”

They broke into a jog as they neared the B&B.

“I have to change before the car arrives,” said Vicky.

“I’m going to stop at the common room and get us some tea,” said Madlyn.

“Great! See you in a few minutes.” Vicky angled left to the annex and Madlyn pulled out her key and ran up the steps to the front door.

Inside, she found herself breathing hard from her jog. Although the mist was nearly gone, she still had beads of moisture glinting off her hair. She bounced up the three stairs to the landing and turned right where the makings for tea and snacks were laid out on a sideboard.

Madlyn fussed with paper cups and tea bags, and didn’t see Kirby emerge from the sitting area until he was right behind her. He looked worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Pearl is missing,” said Kirby. Behind him, Brewster was wringing his hands and looking very unbillionaire-like, his eyes darting to and fro, checking high and low.

Madlyn almost felt sorry for him. “She couldn’t fly out of the house, could she?”

“Don’t even think it! She has to be inside. But we can’t find her.” Kirby seemed as upset as his boss.

Madlyn’s attitude softened. “Pearl is important to you.”

Kirby held up a finger. Madlyn and Brewster fell silent. In the distance, they heard the squawk of a bird.

“That’s her!” Brewster’s expression brightened. “She must be upstairs somewhere!” He raced past Kirby, nearly knocked Madlyn against the sideboard, and shot up the stairs, a man on a mission.

Madlyn made a face. “Gee, some people. Give them a few billion dollars and they think they own the world.”

Kirby stopped on the landing beside her, took a slow breath, then said, “Brew’s a good man. He thinks Pearl is important and so do I.”

“Sorry,” said Madlyn. “I know my boss would be just as worried if one of her cats went missing. I didn’t mean to insult him. You must like him a lot.”

Kirby smiled wryly. “Brewster and I have been pals for a long time. And Pearl was a gift from—” He caught himself. “Let’s just say, we’ve been entrusted with Pearl’s care. Her owner isn’t doing well. I suspect that Pearl will never go home again.” His voice grew heavy with sadness. When he noticed Madlyn watching him intently, he rolled his shoulders. “I’m fine. We’ll find Pearl, and then Brewster will be fine as well.” He paused, and his eyes grew soft. “I had a great time yesterday.”

“Me, too.” Madlyn blushed. She looked away awkwardly. “I told Vicky I’d bring her some tea.” She shifted her gaze around the common room. “Silly name for this room,” she said softly. “It’s the least common room I’ve ever been in.” The elegant Victorian furniture gave the room a formal air, and yet the fabrics were so pleasant and plush, they invited one to linger.

“It’s nice.” Kirby nodded.

“Understatement of the year.”

Kirby smiled and shrugged. “When you hang out with billionaires, you see a lot of luxury.” He heard another squawk and turned his gaze to the staircase.

“Tea?” asked Madlyn.

Kirby was torn. He felt he should be upstairs helping Brewster, but he wasn’t ready to end this moment with Madlyn. Her skin glowed with the exertion of her recent outing, her cheeks sported a natural blush, and her marvelous, outrageous hair billowed around her shoulders. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.

Madlyn offered him a cup of hot tea. He smiled at her and felt like a fool. Why couldn’t he talk to her? Why couldn’t he tell her the truth about himself? He cleared his throat. “You know, not all rich people are like that.”

“Like what?”

He put his index finger on the tip of his nose and tilted it upward.

Madlyn laughed, dipping tea bags into hot water.

Kirby said, “I know lots who are just regular people with fat bank accounts. Imagine for a moment that you’re checking your bank account online. Just close your eyes and imagine that.”

Madlyn smiled and did as he asked. “Yikes. Remind me not to write any checks while I’m here.”

Kirby grinned. “Now, take the number in your bank account and add four zeros to it.”

Madlyn frowned, her eyes still closed. “That’s a much bigger number.”

“Yes. But you’re the same person, right?”

Eyes still closed, Madlyn tilted her head to one side. “I guess.” She opened her eyes. “Except for my ability to write big checks without fear.”

“There you go,” said Kirby. “And if you’re not looking at your bank balance, you’re otherwise a normal human being.” He spread his hands as if that answered all the questions of the world.

Madlyn said, “You really like your boss, don’t you? He must be a very nice man.”

Kirby’s heart sank. How was he ever going to tell her the truth about himself? And would she even talk to him after that? He’d enjoyed their day together more than he’d ever thought possible. They’d talked for hours, laughing and sharing, and yet he’d managed to say nothing about the reality of his life. He’d been so focused on Madlyn, so intent on learning more about her and her life. She was the most genuine woman he’d ever met. What would she think when she learned that Brewster was the employee and he was the boss? Would she forgive him for not telling her sooner? He was about to take the plunge when Brewster returned, crestfallen.

Kirby asked, “No luck?”

Brewster’s voice was strained. “I can hear her squawking, but I can’t find her. This is so distressing!”

Madlyn frowned, recalling the brochures she’d read in the annex. “Hey, maybe she’s hiding out in the secret room!”

Kirby and Brewster stared at her as if she’d gone mad.

Madlyn picked up a historical brochure from its display case on the sideboard and turned pages until she found the passage she was looking for. “Here it is. See? This house was part of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. There’s a stained glass window in the entryway, and this book has a picture of it. Right there.” She pointed to a color photo. “That pattern was a signal to escaping slaves that this was a safe house. They would come in the front door, and the arrow on the floor would point them to a cubbyhole under the stairs. Later, someone would lead them upstairs to a secret room, where they could sleep and eat and get ready for the next leg of their journey.”

“What arrow?” Brewster looked perplexed. “I doubt that Pearl could understand the symbolism.”

Madlyn led them to the entryway. The floor was dark hardwood, and in the center was a geometric pattern formed with blocks of paler wood. Madlyn traced the pattern with the toe of her shoe. “See? It makes an arrow, and it’s pointing under the stairs.”

“Well, I’ll be,” muttered Brewster.

Madlyn applied a bit of pressure to the panel in the wall, and it bounced back just enough for her get her fingernails under the edge. She pulled the small door open. It was only three feet tall and eighteen inches wide. It opened onto a dark space beneath the stairs.

Kirby’s brow furrowed. “People were smaller back then.”

Madlyn nodded. “And skinnier.”

Brewster knelt before the dark maw and peered inside. “No Pearl in here, but then I’ve been hearing her call from upstairs.”

“Yes,” said Madlyn. “She must have gotten into the secret room somehow.”

“Any clue where that might be?” asked Kirby.

“According to the brochure, it was on the very top floor.”

“But if it’s a secret room, how will we ever find the entrance?” asked Brewster.

Madlyn said, “Let’s find the owner. Or maybe the kitchen help.”

Brewster shook his head. “The owner has a day job, and the cook is a single mother who couldn’t even tell us yesterday how old the house was.”

Kirby said, “Maybe once we get upstairs, we can check for another door like this one. You know, small and intended to go unnoticed. Pearl is always knocking things off counters and pulling on her toys. Maybe she pulled on a string or something, and got herself in trouble.”

Brewster was already on his way upstairs. “Follow me! I’ll show you where I heard her calling out the loudest.” He led them to the end of the hallway on the third floor, where the wall was paneled wood. He slumped against the side wall. “No door here. Nothing. Now what?”

Kirby and Madlyn stepped forward and began running their fingertips over the paneling. From behind the wall came a sharp screech. Pearl’s voice cried out, “Dinner time! Dinner time!”

Brewster massaged his temples. “She must be starving, poor thing.”

Kirby dropped to one knee. “The opening must be on the bottom half, Madz. I doubt they’d expect their secret guests to climb over the lower panel, because that would leave marks.”