Chapter Twenty
Sitting between her guys, Jenny felt her tension increase the closer the GPS said they were to their destination. Then Parker put on his right turn signal and pulled into the gated driveway. The gate was open, and there was no mistaking the house number welded to the black bars.
Both of her men whistled when the house came into view. “This must be the place,” Dale said. Parker put the truck in park and turned off the ignition.
Jenny sat forward for a moment, her gaze taking in the enormous house before her. Painted white, two-story, with eight pillars and a pretty porch, the house nearly took her breath away.
“It’s at least as massive as the Big House back in Lusty,” Parker said.
“It looks like it, doesn’t it? Remember, Mr. Mathers said it was built in the late eighteen hundreds, so it’s about the same age, too.” Jenny should have been prepared for this, for the size of it, the exclusivity of it. But she wasn’t, not even after her appointment yesterday afternoon with Rodney Mathers, the senior partner in the law firm of Mathers, Chambers, and Horne.
The truth was her mind was still swimming over the enormity of her inheritance.
She’d had issues as a child, teen and a young woman, issues that had been a result of her adoption. But they’d been issues wrapped around her sense of self, caused by words she’d heard when she was too young to discern their meaning properly.
Unlike Petra Shane, Jenny had never thought there was a wealthy family looking for her. She’d always considered herself blessed to have the parents who’d adopted her.
Dad is going to swallow his tongue when he sees this place. And she had an inkling of an idea, then. It would all just depend on how things went over the next hour or so.
Jenny and her guys had left Lusty a couple of days ago. They’d driven to Dallas, when they’d left the first day. Yes, Dallas really was out of the way traveling from Lusty to Austin. But Jenny had wanted to tell her parents, face to face, about all that had happened and that the DNA test had proven she was indeed a Featherstone by birth. Jenny had assured her parents that nothing had changed between them—that she loved them and, that in her heart and in her mind, they were still her real parents.
Her mom and dad had reassured her they never doubted that. They told her she would always be their baby girl—their greatest blessing and the light of their lives. Her dad had summed it up best.
“Baby, look at this situation as if you’ve won the lottery. A lottery that gives you not only material things, but a look into your own personal history.” Wise words indeed, daddy. Words, and an attitude, she had immediately adopted as her own.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dale took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’m ready.”
The guys flanked her as they made their way to the porch and then up the steps, toward the front door. Jenny rang the bell and stood back, not quite knowing what to expect.
The door opened, and a woman stood there, wearing a tailored black skirt and white blouse, with her silver hair in a knot on top of her head. Her face looked smooth, a detail that belied her advanced years. Mr. Mathers had told her the three members of the household staff were all past sixty and had lived here for more than thirty years. They all had known her birth mother and had been devoted to Amanda Featherstone, a woman who’d treated them more like family than staff.
The older woman smiled, and Jenny knew in a heartbeat here was a woman for whom smiles and kindness came easily.
“You must be Miss Collins. I’m Eugenia Novak. Please, come in.”
The woman stepped back, using her arm to beckon them. The woman shut the door behind them, and Jenny turned to face her.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Novak.” Jenny shook hands with her and introduced her to Parker and Dale. She simply gave the women the men’s names. They’d decided to keep their relationship to themselves.
“Mr. Mathers told me you’d be bringing friends with you. I’m happy to meet you both, gentlemen.” The woman shook their hands and then nodded behind Jenny.
She turned around and blinked because standing at attention near the staircase were two older gentlemen, the other members of the household staff.
“This is Archibald Kramer and Carl McBride. They served as gardener and chauffeur to Miss Amanda.”
Mathers had told her about the two other retainers and that the estate was allowing them to remain in residence until, as he put it, “decisions were made.”
“I’m happy to meet you, gentlemen.”
“We’re both very pleased to meet you, miss. Knowing about you gave Miss Amanda great comfort and peace in her final days.” Mr. McBride’s words put a small catch in Jenny’s throat.
Life indeed could be very strange. She knew herself well enough to understand that, now she was here, now that she was about to hopefully learn about her grandmother, her emotions would be engaged. She had no doubt that she would mourn the fairly recent passing of a woman she’d never met, a woman of her own blood.
That’s not a bad thing at all.
“Miss Collins, I’ve prepared some fresh coffee and pastries. I thought I could take you on a tour of the house and then we could settle in the dining nook and talk.”
“I’d like that, Mrs. Novak.”
Jenny followed the woman, with Parker and Dale trailing behind, as she got her first look at the home where her birth mother had been born and raised and where her grandparents had lived for all of their married lives.
It was lovely, if dated, and pristine. It felt like a home that had endured the gambit of human experiences—joy and sorrow, happiness and heartache. For all of its luxury, this house had the
