Winter Reunion (2 page)

Memories swamped him as he watched the lawyer walk away.
Remarkably specific.
Now that was hitting the nail square on the head for
both
of his parents, he thought with a hollow, silent laugh.

They'd planned every step of his education. Every decision had been theirs, without fail, no matter what he'd wanted, right down to where he would go to college for premed, the GPA he had to earn, and which medical school he would attend.

They'd brooked no arguments. Hadn't listened. Within their social circle, they'd been lauded as model
parents. But when he'd run off to join the military, it had been as much an escape as it was a career choice.

And his father had never spoken to him again.

 

Beth felt a prickle of uneasiness skitter down her spine when the legal secretary gave her a knowing smile and waved her back to Nora's office.

Her uneasiness exploded into full-fledged anxiety when she arrived to find Dev already seated, his broad shoulders dwarfing one of the two leather chairs facing Nora's desk. Clenching her jaw, she wished she could be anywhere else.

She'd expected gaunt, hospital pallor, and had prepared to offer cool, detached sympathy. She hadn't expected this. His overlong, midnight hair was past due for a cut. The five-o'clock shadow roughening his jaw and black polo shirt stretched over heavily muscled biceps gave him a dark and dangerous air.

Which, she supposed, was warranted, given what he did for a living, though it seemed out of place in this genteel little tourist town.

He moved to rise at her appearance but she waved him down into his chair as she sat and tried for a nonchalant air. “Nora, Dev. Nice to see you both, but I'm not sure why I need to be here.”

Dev's intent gaze swept over her, then turned back to Nora. “A formality?”

Nora lifted a folder from the stack on her desk and opened it. “More than that,” she murmured. “Vivian and Alan were wonderful people. They cared deeply about their church, their community and their son. They
wanted to make changes in their world while they were alive, and wanted it to continue after their deaths.”

Clearly uncomfortable at her words, Dev hitched a shoulder. “If they left everything to the church, I'm cool with that. I'm not sticking around in this town at any rate.”

“Not all families are quite so understanding, believe me. This office can turn into a war zone at the drop of a hat.” Nora smiled at him. “But while your parents did leave some of their liquid assets as a bequest for the church, that wasn't the major part of their estate.”

The attorney sifted through the papers in front of her and began reading a long document detailing a number of other bequests to local charities, shirttail relatives and to several close friends.

Beth shifted in her seat and shot a surreptitious look at Dev. His casual demeanor revealed little concern about the proceedings…though as the only heir, he certainly didn't need to worry. His father had been a popular small-town doctor, and his mother had come from an old-money family out East.

Whether or not he returned to active military service, his future would be secure.

Well, good for him. The sooner he left town, the sooner the painful knot in her stomach would ease.

Dev jerked upright at the same moment Beth heard her own name. She tuned back in to the lawyer's words.

Dev shot a glance at Beth, then turned back to the lawyer. “You're kidding.”

“I'm afraid not, Dev.”

Confused, Beth looked between the two of them. “What?”

“Vivian made these…adjustments to her will after her husband's death.” Nora tapped the paper in front of her. “She said Alan might not have approved, but she had good reasons, and as a woman of sound mind, she had the right to make any changes she wished. Are you familiar with the family home, Beth?”

“Well, yes. Of course. I haven't been there for many years. After Alan died, Vivian moved to a condo and turned their home into Sloane House—a boardinghouse.”

“Not just any boarders. She took in people who had faced troubles and needed encouragement, a safe haven or a little boost in life. She helped them get on their feet.”

“How?”

“Some just needed an affordable place to stay so they could save money toward a rent deposit or down payment on a place of their own. Some had been downsized or out of the workforce for years, so she helped them look for jobs and prepare for interviews, or find loans for reeducation. Some needed help connecting with the right kinds of county services.”

“My mother, the social worker,” Dev said drily. “That isn't how I remember her while I was growing up.”

Nora looked at him over the rims of her glasses. “You've been gone many years. People change.”

“I guess, but she sure never said anything about this in her Christmas letters.”

“She did know her limitations. She didn't have a
degree in social work, just a big heart. She considered this her ministry, and it meant the world to her when members of her flock succeeded.”

“She was certainly discreet,” Beth murmured. “I just knew there were boarders living there.”

“Which is exactly what she wanted the town to know, for the privacy of those who received her help.”

“Still, I'm not sure what this has to do with me.”

Nora smiled. “Vivian was worried about the future of any boarders who might be living there after she died.”

“So my mother decided we ought to be partners, in the business sense,” Dev added, giving Beth a sharp look. “She added a clause to her will requiring that we operate her boardinghouse. Together. For a minimum of six months.”

The heat of Dev's stare scorched her skin, and Beth suddenly felt faint. “
Both of us?
Why?”

Nora pursed her lips. “I suspect Vivian thought Devlin would need help, but it's probably a little more complicated than that.”

“Well, it won't work. Period. I was due to re-up last month, but had to postpone it until my next checkup at a VA hospital.” Dev sat back in his chair, his spine rigid. “I've already made an appointment in Minneapolis on the fifteenth. Once I'm cleared, I'll go active as soon as I can arrange the flights.”

“You would need to extend your leave, of course.”

He stared at her for a long moment. “That's…that's not possible.”

“After all your years in the service, these circum
stances surrounding your mother's estate, and the fact that you are due to re-up, I'd bet it's very possible,” Nora mused, giving him a thoughtful look. “If you wanted to try.”

“I have no experience with the care of the elderly, at any rate.”

“These people aren't just old folks, believe me. Beth leased her bookstore and the apartment above it from your parents. Correct?”

He gave a single terse nod.

“Do you remember Vivian saying she wanted to give you one of the buildings when you retired from active service? She always hoped you'd come back home and start some sort of business here.”

“That was years and years ago, right after I enlisted,” Dev said, his voice touched with regret. “I guess emotions were running pretty high at the time. I told her that I would never move back under any circumstances.”

“Mothers can have amazing memories where their children are concerned.” Nora canted her head as she looked between the two of them. “That block is part of the estate, as you know. But if the terms of the will aren't met, all of the commercial property will go to Dev's uncle, Stan Murdock, and their home will be given to a women's shelter. Dev would only inherit his parents' personal possessions.”

Dev drew in a sharp breath. “Stan is aware of this?”

“Definitely. He…ah…has voiced considerable interest in razing the entire block for condo development.”
Nora arched an eyebrow. “He's actually starting to make plans, as he's quite sure you'll decide to walk away.”

Which meant that all the beautiful old stone buildings—including her beloved bookstore and her pretty little apartment above—would fall to a wrecking ball. Her heart sinking, Beth stared at Nora, then she twisted in her chair to face Dev. “Are you going to let him do that?” she whispered.

“He can't.” A muscle ticked at the side of his jaw. “That block was designated for preservation as a historic site. My parents worked on the application years ago.”

“True. But apparently there were errors in the paperwork filed by the county attorney, and Stan found some loopholes.” Nora's mouth curled with disgust. “And with his political connections, he must figure he'll have no trouble doing what he wants. He had an architect come with him from St. Paul earlier this week. The two of them walked the area so preliminary drawings could be made. They stopped in here to discuss how soon Stan could take possession, as if it were a done deal.”

Beth sat back in her chair, appalled. “So your uncle would destroy part of the historic section of this town just to make money.”

“He's not a blood relative of mine.” Dev's expression darkened. “He was my late aunt's second husband. He's a successful businessman in the Twin Cities area and a big donor at charity events. But even as a kid I heard him talk about wheeling and dealing to get exactly what he wanted. I still can't believe Mom would even
consider
letting him get his hands on her property. Is there any way around it?”

“You mean, if Beth alone complied with the will, or the two of you hired a manager to take over the boardinghouse? No. Vivian made sure of it.”

“I could retain another lawyer to challenge the will.”

“You're welcome to do so. In fact, I'd encourage it, just so you'll feel you've had your best shot at this.” Nora shrugged. “But I've represented your family's interests for over twenty years, so please do understand that my concern is for Vivian's wishes along with the well-being of every family member—you included. If I thought there was a way around the stipulations in your mother's will, I'd let you know. But,” she added with a faint smile, “I was the one who wrote it up, and I made
sure
it was ironclad, at her express instructions. Unless, of course, you'd returned from the military too disabled to function as an independent adult.”

Beth clutched the arms of her chair. “So if Dev and I manage the boardinghouse, he can receive his full inheritance and protect the property. What does this entail, exactly?”

“It certainly isn't a full-time job for those six months. Vivian figured twenty hours a week, more or less, shared between the two of you. You'll manage the house and grounds—maintenance and so on.”

“‘And so on' could cover a lot of things.”

“You'd be expected to provide assistance and encouragement for the remaining residents, if they need or request it. That might entail helping with searches for jobs, or locating opportunities for school or training. Help with transportation, if need be. Vivian wanted her
last boarders to be assisted in every way toward independence, so they can move on to careers or a happy life elsewhere. It's what she would've done for them if she hadn't passed away.”

“And if they don't…succeed?”

“Then the estate is tied up for a final six-month period to give you more time. If it's deemed that you made little effort to assist the boarders, then the property goes to Stan. And, of course, the boardinghouse would be closed and any remaining boarders would have to leave.”

Dev frowned. “What about day-to-day management of the house itself?”

“The residents each make their own breakfast and lunch, but take turns cooking supper for the group. Vivian worked with them as needed on the planning, budgeting and shopping lists.”

“And she left a list of reliable repair people, right?”

“Viv was actually quite handy, though she had to hire repairmen now and then.”

“My
mother?
”

A grin briefly touched Nora's lips. “She certainly evolved, over time. She told me that a service manual or a quick search on Google usually provided all she needed to know.”

“And the lawn?”

“A lawn-care service could take care of the grass and snow removal, but the monthly budget is limited to the amount of rent paid plus a small stipend. So if you choose to take care of things yourself, it would save money for the bigger problems.”

Beth thought for a moment, trying to remember
the old folks she'd seen toddling around town. “What if a resident is simply unable to reach independence? And who judges whether everything has been accomplished—or can't be?”

“This isn't an assisted-living situation. All of the residents are capable of independence and are of reasonable working age, as that was a stipulation before they could move in.” Nora folded her hands over the file on her desk. “As far as monitoring the success of the operation goes, a lawyer from Madison and I have been left with that responsibility. Our assignment is to put the welfare of the residents above everything else, and that's what we will do.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Nora smiled. “You and Devlin will be running the show completely. Harold Billingsly and I will be reviewing the financial summary you two submit each month, along with an update on each resident.”

“Update?”

“A written report. Obviously, these people can't be just booted out and set adrift—there needs to be a concrete plan and a move to
successful
independence.”

Beth felt the noose tightening.

It all sounded simple. Straightforward. But could she handle working with Dev on a daily basis? Even now, she felt the ragged edges of her emotions unraveling.

Yet if she didn't cooperate, Dev would lose the property, and when Stan took over, she'd lose her home and her store. And those poor folks might end up out on the street.
Lord, tell me what to do here.