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“Why, thank you, Sterling.”
He glared at her. “Dark glasses and a big hat aren’t going to hide you from someone who knows you.”
Smiling a little, Kate glanced down at herself. She wore a teal-blue silk tunic and trousers to match, a wide straw hat tied with a scarf, and large dark glasses, which were intended to camouflage her face. “Don’t be testy, Sterling.”
He let out a low grunt of disgust. “I’m not testy. I’m realistic. You lived at the estate for years. Most of the people in Travistown knew you personally. Anyone floating by on another boat might recognize you.”
Kate gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and looked away, out toward the farmhouse where, years and years ago, she and Ben had been happy. Her sweet, bighearted Bernie was there, sitting so patiently on the end of the dock. The dog had been waiting in the same spot for nearly an hour now. Kate’s heart went out to him. He would have to wait a while longer before he would see his old mistress again.
Kate wondered how Natalie was doing. Since her “death,” more than one of Kate’s loved ones had stumbled upon love and fulfillment. The truth was, Kate had been taking a secret pleasure in a little matchmaking—from beyond the grave, as it were.
And in the past few weeks, she’d been thinking of Natalie. A lot. Sterling, who kept her informed about all her children and grandchildren, had told her that Natalie and Joel Baines had broken up. Kate thought that was great news. She’d met Joel more than once, and she hadn’t been impressed. Now maybe Natalie could begin looking for the real thing.
Sterling interrupted Kate’s thoughts. “I will remind you, Kate, that you’re the one who keeps insisting you can do more behind the scenes to discover who’s trying to destroy the Fortune name and all it stands for than you ever could working in the spotlight. If you’re recognized today—”
“I know, Sterling. I know. And you’re right. It would be…unfortunate if I were recognized. But I won’t be.”
Sterling’s response was a muttered expletive, and nothing more.
Kate softened her tone. “Sterling, please try to understand. I needed to come here today. So much of my life has been here….” She turned her head away from the farmhouse, toward the huge estate that she and Ben had built together in the first, heady years of their success. She couldn’t see it from here, of course, but she knew it was out there, that it stood as proud and indomitable as ever, a huge, columned edifice of echoing, high-ceilinged rooms. At one time, in spite of all its opulent grandeur, it had been home.
Of course, when Kate thought of the estate these days, she thought of Jacob, too. Jacob lived there now. Alone.
“Kate?” Now Sterling was sounding almost gentle.
Kate shook herself. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
Sterling’s thoughts paralleled her own. “Jake is a problem. If this stock situation isn’t handled, he could lose everything you and Ben worked your lives to build.”
Kate stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Not now. Please.” She turned her head once more, so that she could see the farmhouse again. Her beloved Bernie was still there, waiting for her….
“What’re you up to, boy? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
The dog turned and whined a little, then looked at the lake once again.
Natalie shaded her eyes and stared out at the faraway patio boat that floated on the wind-ruffled surface of the water. It was one of the rentals.
“Sorry, big fella.” She patted his flank. “It’s no one we know. Come on, let’s go inside. I want to change out of this dress and haul that trunk back up to the attic where it belongs.” Natalie turned for the bank. But she only got a few steps before she realized the dog hadn’t fallen in behind her. She slapped her thigh. “Come on.”
With one last, longing look at the water, the dog did as she commanded.
“Look, Sterling,” Kate said. “It’s Natalie.” Kate lifted the pair of binoculars she’d set on the seat. “Oh, my. She’s been up in the attic, I see.” Kate recognized the spangled dress and sparkly platform shoes. It had been long out-of-date when Kate herself wore it—for a Halloween costume at a party twenty years before.
The faraway figures of the woman and the dog turned and walked toward the farmhouse. “She needs love.” Kate lowered the binoculars. “Real love, a man who’ll give to her as she’s always given to everyone else. That’s why I left her the farmhouse. Ben and I found such joy there. Maybe she will, too. And Bernie will help. That dog has a nose for people. He never did care much for Joel Baines.” She laughed. “Remember the first time Natalie brought Joel to the estate? Bernie chased him into the butler’s pantry and kept him there for ten minutes, until the rest of us figured out what was going on and called Bernie off.”
Kate could see that Sterling was trying not to smile. “I don’t believe I remember that,” he said.
“Oh, yes, you do. You were there for dinner that night. You tried not to laugh then, too, as I recall. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is, Natalie is free of Joel now. Free to find a man who adores her and appreciates her and will spend his life showing her just how much.”
Sterling put on a disapproving frown. “Don’t you think maybe you’re carrying this matchmaking thing a little too far, Kate?”
“No, I don’t. Not at all. One can never take anything too far, if love is the prize.”
Sterling looked doubtful. “But what was the point of the stipulation that the house has to remain occupied at all times until Natalie marries?”
Kate smoothed a wrinkle from her silk trousers. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on dying for quite a while, and you know how I always fiddled with my bequests. At the time I thought it sounded right.”
Sterling grunted. “Well, what you’ve done is made it all more complicated. Every time the poor woman wants to go somewhere, she has to find someone to stay at the house.”
Kate chuckled. “She seems to be managing. And I want to know everything that’s happening with her. Keep in close touch with her, won’t you?”
“You know I always do.”
The next day, Natalie was cutting roses to put in the parlor when Sterling Foster arrived in his big maroon Lincoln Town Car. Natalie ran out to meet him. In many ways, over the years, the family’s longtime attorney had become like another member of the family. She greeted him with a hug and led him into the house.
“So, what are you up to lately?” he asked as she poured him a tall glass of lemonade.
She told him all about the details of the cruise. He already knew she was going, of course, since he was the one who managed her trust fund.
He listened to her plans and said he thought they sounded terrific. “But remember,” he cautioned, “by the terms of your grandmother’s will, this house must stay occupied and Bernie must be cared for here.”
She reassured him that she hadn’t forgotten, and explained all about the great tenants she’d found. “They’re moving in on the twelfth, a while before I’m slated to leave. But it’s all worked out perfectly, because Rick says it’s fine with him if I stay right here until I’m ready to go.”
“Rick?”
“Yes. Richard Dalton. His little boy is named Toby. Rick’s an architect. With Langley, Bates and Shears, in Minneapolis.”
“Did you have him fill out an application?”
“Of course.” She grinned. “And I even read it over. That’s how I found out he’s an architect.”
“Meaning you’re not planning to check him out.”
“I’m an intuitive kind of person, Sterling. You know that.”
He gazed at her patiently. “May I have a look?”
“Oh, Sterling….”
“Be intuitive, Natalie. But let me check him out.”
Natalie hesitated. She really did think Rick and Toby were just the tenants she’d been seeking. But then, she’d also thought that Joel Baines was the man she’d spend her life with.
“Oh, all right.” She went to the study and came back with the papers Rick had filled out. “If you find out something bad, you’d better tell me right away.”
“I will. I promise.”
Three
The phone was ringing as Natalie staggered in from the small enclosed side porch that served as a mudroom in winter. She was lugging several bags from a number of exclusive Minneapolis boutiques. She dropped the bags inside the door and raced for the kitchen extension.
It was Sterling, calling to tell her that Rick Dalton had checked out just fine.
“It’s about time you called me,” she chided. “They’re due to move in two days from now.”
“Sorry. I wanted to do a thorough job.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And there’s no problem, anyway. I’m sure he’ll make a fine tenant.”
“I told you that over a week ago.”
“I know, I know. Intuition wins again. But isn’t it nice to know that the facts support your instincts?”
Natalie agreed that it was. Smiling, she thanked Sterling for looking out for her. Then, after promising to meet him for lunch before she left for the Mediterranean, she said goodbye.
She was turning to pay some more attention to her glamorous new wardrobe when the phone rang again. She picked it up.
And then immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Natalie. I called just a minute ago. The line was busy.”
“Joel. Give it up.”
“Natalie, we have to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Goodbye, Joel.”
He was still begging her to talk to him as she gently replaced the receiver. She looked over at Bernie, who had stretched out on the floor a few feet away, his head on his paws.
“Some people just don’t understand the word no.”
Bernie lifted his head and yawned hugely.
“My sentiments exactly.” She started for the side door and her waiting bags of beautiful clothes, but then decided that maybe she ought to check her messages first. After all, she had been gone all day.
In the study where she kept the answering machine, she found there was only one message. From a soft-spoken woman with a British accent.
“Hello. My name is Jessica Holmes.” On the tape, the woman paused, then sighed. “Oh, this is so difficult. Actually, I’m calling because I’m seeking relatives of a Benjamin Fortune. I thought perhaps… I don’t know how to put this—except to say that the matter is extremely urgent. I would greatly appreciate a call back if you are related to, or know of, a Benjamin Fortune, aged in his seventies, who served in France during the Second World War.” The voice left a London number and said goodbye.
Torn about what to do next, Natalie hovered by the machine as it squeaked and beeped and reset itself. As one of the few people in her family who kept a listed number, Natalie often paid the price for being so accessible; she got a lot of crank calls.
Total strangers had contacted her on more than one occasion with “urgent” messages. Inevitably they turned out to be reporters trying to get an inside scoop, or would-be wheeler-dealers who thought someone from the Fortune family might be interested in getting in on the ground floor of whatever money-making scheme they’d dreamed up.
No one before had mentioned Grandpa Ben, though. That was a slightly different angle.
Natalie replayed the woman’s message and actually went so far as to start to dial the number Jessica Holmes had left. But then she shook her head and put down the phone. She was sure of what would happen: The woman would turn out to be working some kind of angle. And Natalie had dealt with people like that one time too many.
As the machine reset itself, she thought again of getting back to the job at hand: her new wardrobe. She’d spent three days in Chicago last week, buying everything in sight. And today she’d driven into the Cities to pick up a few other things. She was going to be très glamorous at the railing of that cruise ship, her hair blowing in the wind off the Strait of Gibraltar. Or maybe dancing on the tables in some picturesque Greek restaurant, drinking too much retsina and staying up until the crack of dawn.
But then it occurred to her that Rick Dalton and his little boy would be arriving in two days’ time. And Rick wanted to put Toby here, in the study, so that he’d be nearby if Toby had bad dreams during the night.
It was definitely time to move some furniture around. And she’d need some help; her back had been sore for two days after she dragged that old steamer trunk back up to the attic. Natalie picked up the phone and dialed the number of the big house across the lake.
When the morning finally came that he and Toby returned to Lake Travis, Rick was more than ready to go. Though it was hotter and muggier than it had been that day two weeks before, the drive through the countryside was every bit as lovely as the first time. Rick simply kept the windows up and let the air-conditioning do its job.
As they neared the farmhouse, Rick was conscious of a rising feeling in his chest, a lightness, a sense of pure anticipation at the prospect of seeing Natalie Fortune again.
It was crazy, and he knew it, but he couldn’t get the enchanting brunette out of his mind. He knew he’d thought about her way too much in the past weeks, about her big brown eyes and her shining coffee-colored hair and the subtle perfume she wore that seemed both floral and musky at once. And about the way Toby had responded to her and her huge, friendly dog. After that visit, Toby had seemed more withdrawn than ever by comparison.
Rick gave the boy a quick glance. Miracle of miracles, Toby met his gaze.
“Excited?” Rick asked.
He got no answer, but he was sure he saw Toby’s little mouth quirk. Rick chose to take that as another positive sign that this vacation was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to either of them.
When they pulled into the turnaround in front of the walk, the captivating Natalie was there on the lawn, as Rick had secretly imagined she might be. She wore cutoffs and a snug T-shirt, and she was laughing, tossing a big stick for that lumbering, wonderful dog of hers to fetch.
Rick’s heart did something impossible inside his chest. Dressed that way, with her hair caught back in a messy ponytail and sweat from the heat and the exercise making her skin gleam, she was Rick Dalton’s living, breathing fantasy of the girl next door. No one would guess that she was actually a daughter of one of America’s wealthiest and most famous families.
She gave them a wave and tossed the stick overhand. It sailed, end over end, through the air. The dog loped off after it, and she jogged over to the car. Rick rolled down his window.
She stopped a few inches from his door. “Right on time.” She was panting. Sweat had darkened her shirt beneath her arms and between the soft swells of her breasts. Rick would have sworn he could smell her: flowers and musk. He felt a hard, thoroughly inappropriate kick of arousal, one that tightened his slacks and cut off his air.
He forced himself to breathe, grimly reminding himself that his son was sitting in the passenger seat beside him and he hardly knew this woman.
Right then, the Saint Bernard came bounding up, the stick Natalie had thrown for him clutched in his jowls. Natalie’s quicksilver laugh rang out as the dog headed straight for Toby’s side of the car. Once he reached the passenger door, the huge animal sat, dropped the stick and gave a low, friendly woof.
Toby flung open his car door, jumped down and wrapped his too-thin arms around the dog. Rick watched, his heart aching in his chest.
He glanced at Natalie. She met his eyes and smiled—a soft, quivery-lipped kind of smile. She understood what a step Toby had just taken. And she was moved.
A moment ago, Rick had wanted her desperately. Now he just plain adored her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind now that the woman and her dog were absolute magic.
When he looked back at his son, Toby was already lugging the big stick out to the lawn. Bernie trotted along behind him.
“Come on,” Natalie said. “Let’s get your things inside.”
Rick popped the trunk latch from inside the glove compartment. When he got out and went around to the back, Natalie was there ahead of him, pulling two bags of the groceries he’d bought into her capable arms. He hauled out a couple of suitcases and followed her up the walk, pausing to call a reminder to Toby that he wasn’t to wander off anywhere. Toby turned and looked at him, which Rick knew meant the boy had heard and understood.
Inside, Rick found that Natalie had already made the study over into a bedroom. He set Toby’s suitcases down and admired the changes while Natalie went on out to the kitchen to drop off the grocery bags. Rick was still surveying the room where his son would sleep when she appeared in the doorway.
“I had a couple of my father’s men come across the lake to help me out,” she explained. “We switched the furniture in here with the stuff from the room at the top of the stairs.”
Rick was standing on the far side of the bed. He touched the bedspread, which was quilted and stenciled with airplanes. “I don’t remember seeing this upstairs.”
Her cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink. “All right. I confess. I bought the bedspread just for Toby.” She moved into the room, across the bed from him, and touched the wooden propeller of the airplane lamp that sat on the nightstand. “And I bought this lamp.” She pointed at the airplane mobile in the center of the room. “And that, too. I thought Toby would like them.”
