“Tonight,” he repeated. “The sooner we get our water license, the sooner you’re off the hook.”
She hated to admit he was right. But he was. The faster she learned about his business and showed him how to do his research and fill out the application form, the sooner he’d leave her alone. There wasn’t a single chance they’d succeed, but he’d be forced to admit she tried.
Annoyed by the delay, but knowing she had no choice, Abigail headed into Lyndon for the afternoon. There, she took pity on herself and decided to go for a manicure at the Crystal Pool spa. Discovering they were having a three- treatments-for-the-price-of-two sale, she also had a facial and a wax job. Then she stopped by her favorite clothing store and picked up a pair of black jeans and a sleeveless, shimmering, royal-blue blouse with lace insets and a mandarin collar. The jeans were too long to go with her cowboy boots, and she found a kicky pair of rhinestone- decorated, high-heeled sandals to complete the look.
Afterward, she felt better, confident, more like herself. She checked into the picturesque Rose Cottages down by the river. She’d made the reservation thinking she’d be finished with Zach tonight. Instead, she’d asked for a late checkout, planning to get some sleep there tomorrow before she drove back to the ranch. There was no way she was spending even half the night at the Caspian Hotel, not with the memories of Lucky flitting at the edges of her brain.
Then finally, since she couldn’t tell Travis she was spending a couple of days in Lyndon without making a point of visiting her brother Seth, she drove to the mayor’s residence on Bainbridge Avenue, pulling the truck up to the historic, white, pillar-fronted three-story house. She truly missed the sleek, shiny Audi she’d leased over the course of the campaign.
Hopping out, she settled her sandals on the concrete driveway, smoothed her blouse, fluffed her hair and strode up the wide steps to the over-height double doors. It was nearly eight o’clock, so she knew she wouldn’t disturb dinner.
It was Lisa Thompson who answered.
“Hey, Abigail,” she greeted with a beaming smile. “Nice blouse. You look great!”
“Thanks.” A warm feeling settled in Abigail’s stomach. She liked being pretty. She really did.
“So, how’re things at the ranch?” Lisa stepped to one side so that Abigail could enter the formal, octagonal foyer. The house had been built in 1902 and kept lovingly restored by the Lyndon Historical Society. The huge, overhead chandelier sparkled with light, while the marble floor gleamed, and notable, historical Lyndon City figures peered stoically down from gilt-framed oil paintings.
Male voices rose and fell from the depths of the house, something to do with land zoning and property tax. It didn’t surprise Abigail in the least that her brother was conducting business into the evening.
“It’s all good at the ranch,” she answered Lisa’s question.
“I didn’t know you were coming to town.” Lisa closed the door behind them, her black ballet flats whispering as she moved.
“Just picking up a few things,” Abigail made the excuse.
“Spurs and saddle soap?” Lisa teased.
Apart from Zach, Abigail hadn’t confessed to Lisa or anyone else her trepidation about going back to the ranch. She pasted on a smile. “A new pocketknife and some baling wire.”
Lisa laughed. “Around you, I feel so useless.”
“
“I think he had a whole lot more fun before I showed up. Hey, Seth,” Lisa called. “Your sister’s here.”
Conversation stopped in the back room. It had once been the original kitchen and dining area, but years ago it was converted into a large gathering room where many of the mayor’s formal parties took place. A new kitchen had been added to the house sometime in the fifties and updated every decade since.
“Which one?” Seth called.
“It’s me,” Abigail called. “But you don’t need to-”
Seth headed through the curved archway that led into the living room adjacent to the foyer. “Hey, Abby.” He strode across the big room and pulled her into his usual hug. “What are you doing in town?”
“A little shopping,” she told him cheerfully. “What’s up with the zoning?”
He pulled back and waved a dismissive hand. “The usual. The chamber of commerce wants the town boundaries extended past the river bend, and the ranching community is up in arms over the grazing leases. You staying over?”
“I already checked into Rose Cottages.”
He frowned. “Why would you do that? You know we’ve got plenty of room here.”
“I plan on sleeping in tomorrow,” Abigail lied.
“So what?”
“So, you’re here. And you’ll be up early. Not everybody wants to keep your manic schedule,” she added.
“You’ve never minded my schedule. In fact, I think you liked it.”
“Well, I’m not working for you anymore. And I feel like being self-indulgent.”
“And so you should,” Lisa stoically defended, linking an arm through Abigail’s in blatant solidarity. “Give the girl a break. She’ll be up slopping the hogs at the crack of dawn soon enough.”
“We don’t have hogs,” said Seth. He turned, calling out, “Benjamin?”
“Yes?” a young man’s voice answered from the gathering room.
“Do you mind running over to Rose Cottages and grabbing Abigail’s suitcase?”
“Seth!” Abigail protested, reflexively moving to block the door. She was not going to let herself get shanghaied.
“I’m not letting my sister stay in a hotel.”
“And I’m not letting my brother order me around.”
Benjamin, a local teenager who was doing a part-time internship with Seth, appeared in the doorway. A bedraggled, black-and-white puppy limped in at his heels, sniffing its way around the legs of a colonial side table.
“Which cottage are you in?” Seth asked Abigail.
She jerked her attention back to her brother. “
“Don’t start, Abby,” Seth warned.
“Back off,” she responded. She was usually quite amiable when it came to her family’s desires, but she couldn’t give in this time.
“I just opened a bottle of ninety-six St. Germain,” he cajoled.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Come on.”
“Boss,” Lisa put in, in a warning tone. “Didn’t we talk about this?”
Abigail was a little surprised that Lisa was willing to come to her defense. Lisa was brash and bossy at the best of times, but she was usually quite deferential to Seth.
“This is an entirely different circumstance,” he intoned.
“It’s exactly the same circumstance.”
“What?” Abigail couldn’t help asking.
“Problem solved,” said Lisa, propelling Abigail from the room. “She’ll stay at Rose Cottages, but join us for a drink now. Bring some glasses, Seth.” Then she lowered her voice, leaning toward Abigail’s ear. “So, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Abigail whispered in reply.
“Like hell,” Lisa harrumphed as they made their way toward the gathering room. “You’ve got something going on tonight, or you wouldn’t be fighting with Seth over where you slept.” Then she raised her voice as they switched rooms. “Luis, Harlan, you remember Seth’s sister Abigail.”
Both men came to their feet from a sofa grouping where they were going over some kind of report.
“Nice to see you again.” Luis nodded.
“Hi, Abigail,” Harlan echoed.
