“Then how—”
“It’s kind of a tradition amongst us. Rafe started it, and the rest of us did it, too. When we turned eighteen, and could legally do it, we changed our last name to Boudreau. Partly out of respect and admiration for the people who raised us, and partly because we are a family. I’m honored to carry the name Boudreau. I wasn’t born with it, but it’s mine by choice, and I’m proud to be part of this amazing family.”
They stood, and Antonio brushed the hair back from her cheeks, tempted beyond words to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless, but knew the time wasn’t right. She’d been hit with a lot, an overload of information, along with the threat of her uncle. He’d give her time to adjust, to think about what he’d told her. But not too much time, because he intended Serena to be in his life for the long haul, forever.
She just didn’t know it yet.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“No, I’m happy to help, Mr. Olson. I can meet you there in thirty minutes, if that works for you?”
“Wonderful, Serena. I’ve had my eye on this piece of property for the past three years, and heard they listed it this morning. Didn’t even call me, like they promised, which ticks me off, but what am I gonna do, right? I’m afraid if I wait, somebody is going to snatch it up before I can even see it or make an offer.”
“It’s no problem. I’ll pull the details and contact the agent representing the property, and see what we can do about making a deal, okay?”
“I know I can always count on you, Serena. See you there.”
Serena stared at her phone, feeling a bit guilty. She’d promised Antonio she wouldn’t leave the Big House without one of the Boudreaus or somebody from the sheriff’s department going with her. Ridge was around somewhere, having been dragged into being her babysitter today. She knew she should let him know where she was going, but he’d insist on tagging along, and she didn’t want to upset a client by bringing somebody along on their walk-through. Mr. Olson was a good client, and she’d been dealing with him exclusively since she’d moved to Shiloh Springs. He’d been her very first sale with Boudreau Realty, and they’d done a few transactions since then, mostly with rental properties he owned and the company managed. Between the trip to visit this prospective property and getting back, she wouldn’t be gone more than a couple hours tops. Besides the commission would add a nice chunk to her bank account, and she’d need the money if she had to take off and start over again.
For a second, she contemplated shooting Antonio a text, but he’d try to convince her to stay put. Honestly, she was going a bit stir crazy. Everybody had been over-the-top nice, but being around so many people kept her already frazzled nerves on edge. She was used to living alone, and missed having some quiet time all to herself. Grabbing a pen, she scribbled a quick note, and stuck it to the fridge with one of the cute magnets Ms. Patti collected. With a quick move, she grabbed her purse, shoved the phone inside, and sprinted for the door. So far, so good. No sign of Ridge.
Once on the road, she glanced in the rearview mirror, the Big House fading away in the background. A twinge of remorse assailed her, but she shook it off. Darn it, she wasn’t a prisoner, and she wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving without telling anybody. She was a grown adult, and could come and go as she pleased. Besides, she needed to do her job if she wanted to be able to make her mortgage payment and pay her bills.
Tapping the button on the steering wheel, she turned on the radio. A country music oldie poured forth and she smiled. She’d never admit it in a million years, but since moving to Shiloh Springs, she’d grown to love country music, especially the older stuff. Humming along with the melody, she studied the road ahead. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, there wasn’t a whole lot of traffic to contend with, and she should be right on time for her meeting with Mr. Olson.
She drove a couple of miles, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the next song. Staring through the windshield, she noted a car headed toward her. They had to be going to the Big House, because theirs was the only property on this stretch of road from Shiloh Springs. As it drew closer, she noted it was a dark sedan, one she didn’t readily recognize. The Big House had lots of folks coming and going all the time, so it wasn’t unusual she didn’t recognize the car. The Boudreaus were well liked in their community, and people stopped by all the time to talk with Ms. Patti and Douglas.
The sedan continued getting closer and was almost even with her when it swerved into her lane. Her foot slammed on the brake and her car fishtailed on the pavement, swerving sharply to the right. It skittered off the asphalt and onto the rocks and grass bordering the road. Hands gripped tight around the steering wheel, she struggled to straighten the car, and felt a rocking jolt as the other car sideswiped hers. Her body jolted against the seatbelt, and the back end of her car slid down into the culvert beside the road. It lurched to a sudden stop, and the airbags deployed, with an explosion of powder. Her body slammed forward into the airbag, the seatbelt strap taut against her chest.
It took a few seconds for it to sink in, to realize what happened. She blinked furiously, trying to dispel
