into his flesh. “She had a cat in the case she hit me with.”
“Well, I’m not one to believe in keeping animals in the house, but after all, I live on a farm. A woman on her own in a city apartment might be lonely, poor thing.”
That was Sarah all over, always seeing the best in everyone. He was afraid she was going to be disappointed in Allison Standish, and he wasn’t sure how to warn her. It was annoying that so many people had to depend on the whims of this stranger.
“Evelyn loved the quilt shop.” Sarah was obviously following her own train of thought. “But she was always content to be a silent partner. Ach, I couldn’t expect anything else, she was such a busy woman. Maybe Allison will want to be more involved. I hope so.”
“I hope you won’t regret what you wished for.” There was no point in trying to sugarcoat the facts for Sarah. At least he ought to try and prepare her for the woman who was now her partner. “Look, Sarah, I wouldn’t count too much on Allison Standish if I were you. I can’t picture the woman I met working in a quilt shop. She struck me as a snobbish yuppie who can’t wait to shake the dust of Laurel Ridge from her feet.”
He realized that Sarah was staring past him, a horrified expression on her face. He swung around. Allison Standish stood not more than five feet behind him, well within earshot. She’d undoubtedly heard him.
Well, what difference did it make? She’d told him herself that she was eager to sell up and leave.
“And here she is,” he said. “Good morning, Ms. Standish. What did you do with the cat?”
She blinked, apparently not expecting that question. “As it happens, Mrs. Anderson turned out to be a cat person. As soon as her tabby established her dominance over Hector, they settled down together.”
“She likes to be the boss, I take it.” He felt a momentary sympathy for Hector. “Well, you’ll be wanting to meet your new partner. Sarah, this is Allison Standish. Allison, Sarah Bitler.”
Allison’s eyes widened as she took in the fact that Sarah was Amish. Then she extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. I saw a bit of the shop last night.” Her glance swept back to Nick. “Speaking of last night, you must have thought it was amusing when I told you I planned to sell the building as soon as possible.”
Nick realized he was staring at her blankly. “Why would I find it funny? A sale could have serious consequences for all of us.”
“So you don’t know.” There was an edge to her voice. “I’m surprised. I thought you knew all about everything having to do with my inheritance.”
“Listen, I’m sorry. I gave you the wrong impression last night.”
She seemed to ignore what he said, preoccupied with some issue of her own that had her fuming. “You may as well know. I’m sure it will be all over town shortly. It turns out my inheritance has strings attached. I can’t sell or do anything else except run the building for an entire year.”
* * *
THE AMISH WOMAN was staring at Allison with a puzzled expression.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “We were told you inherited Blackburn House and Evelyn’s share of the quilt shop.”
Apparently everyone in town had known her grandmother better than she had. Allison pushed aside the sense that she’d lost something of value. How could she mourn a relationship that had never existed?
Sarah turned to Nick Whiting. “Did you know about this, Nick?”
He shook his head, frowning a little. He seemed honestly confused, although Allison wasn’t inclined to take anything at face value where Nick was concerned.
Seen in daylight, her impression of his rough-hewn good looks was confirmed. Attractive enough to cause a quiver in the stomach, if you went for men who wore jeans and flannel shirts to work. She didn’t.
“Evelyn always was wily about keeping her secrets.” His frown dissolved in a reluctant smile. “She certainly put one over on all of us this time. Including you, I guess.” His smile included Allison, but she thought she detected an edge of malice in the curve of his lips. “Evelyn tied your hands, did she?”
Sarah gave him a quelling look. “That’s enough, Nick. This is no way to get acquainted with the new owner.”
Somewhat to Allison’s surprise, he took the reproof with a nod. “Right you are. Guess I’ll get to work and let you two sort it out between you.”
Before she could deny there was anything to sort out, he had turned and crossed the hall to his showroom.
And little though Allison wanted to admit it, she was trapped in a situation she hadn’t foreseen, with no knowledge of who she could trust. She needed information before she could attempt any decisions, and Sarah might be able to supply it.
At the moment, Sarah was watching her with a slightly anxious expression. “Will you come into the shop?” She gestured to the quilt store. “Ach, it seems strange to invite you in when it’s half yours, anyway.”
Allison responded with a smile. She’d already broken her cardinal rule several times with Nick Whiting by letting him see her reaction to him. There was no point in compounding the problem by letting Sarah see her as anything but pleasant and professional. She’d realized when her father walked out on her and her mother that there was a lot to be said for being independent, and a big part of independence for her had meant hiding her emotions, especially the negative ones.
“I’d love to have you show me around the shop. There’s so much I don’t know.”
“Komm.” Sarah led the way, a tiny bell jingling as they opened the door. They moved into an aura of bright colors and soft textures that seemed to envelop and comfort at the same time.
The shop was in what must have been a parlor in the original mansion. The front windows were angled to form a bay with a bench under them. Sarah must have been responsible for the quilted cushions that turned it into an inviting seating area. The wallpaper, if not original, was a good copy of the flowered style so common in Victorian homes. Allison hadn’t had much occasion to decorate homes of this period, since most of Diane’s business had been with the busy young corporate execs who moved into a house, decorated in the latest style, then sold and moved on when they reached the next step of the corporate ladder.
But she knew something good when she saw it, and the fireplace was a masterpiece of High Victorian with its intricately carved and mirrored mantelpiece that dwarfed everything else in the room. Sarah had wisely not tried to change the intrinsic charm of the room but allowed her quilts to make their own statement.
“Didn’t you know that your grandmother intended for you to have this?” Sarah’s gesture took in the quilt shop and beyond it, the whole building.
“I hadn’t the slightest idea until her attorney called me.” It was pointless to hide the fact, since probably everyone in town would know the details before long. Evelyn Standish had apparently been someone important in Laurel Ridge. “As far as I know, she never saw me or attempted to make contact.”
Sarah’s blue eyes darkened with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I can’t understand any grossmammi doing that.” She
