think you should give yourself some time to get to know your sister before you start making decisions that will impact the rest of her life.”
Hannah’s spine straightened. When she wanted advice from Mr. Adam Roth, she’d ask for it.
“Time,” she said, stiffly, “isn’t something I have a whole lot of. I have to get back to New York as soon as possible. I’m up for promotion. I’m a nurse, and I could very well become the youngest ward nurse in the hospital.” An odd awkwardness crept over her for having revealed so much about herself—about her hopes and dreams—to this stranger. But he needed to know. Tipping up her chin, she boldly continued. “This might not sound like a big deal to you. But it is to me. A very big deal. I’m only telling you this to make you understand why time is of the essence. I have a lot to do and very little ti—”
“Well, you sure had plenty of time just a moment ago to eye me up like I was a prime hunk of rump roast and you were chef of the day.”
She gasped, her eyes widening. “I did no such
“Ms. Cavanaugh, if you don’t mind my asking,” he cut in again, “where’s Tammy’s mother? Shouldn’t she be the one making the decisions about the estate? She’s the person to whom we wrote the letters.”
A deep frown bit into her brow. She’d been momentarily mortified by his flippant “rump roast” remark. but what he was insinuating melted away all the embarrassment and confused her to no end. “Letters? As in, more than one?”
“Three to be exact,” he told her. “One every eight to ten days since Bobby Ray died. Hank Tillis and I thought—”
“Tillis.” Hannah whispered the name, mulling over the familiar sound of it in her mind. “You mean the lawyer, Henry Tillis?”
“That’s the one. He goes by Hank to his friends.”
“My mother showed me a letter from him dated this past Monday.”
“That must have been letter number three.” Again, disapproval turned his gaze stormy.
Her mother had received three letters before she’d acted? Hannah couldn’t believe it. But then again, maybe she could.
“You see,” she began, “my mother is a very busy woman. She’s a publicity agent. In New York City. Her clients need her. They depend on her. And they keep her busy. Her work makes it very hard for her to leave town....”
In that instant, Hannah was whisked back into her childhood where she relived a hundred awkward moments when she was forced to explain her mother’s absence to teachers, choir directors, Brownie troop leaders, even to the parents of her friends who never seemed to miss a performance night or a fashion show or the innumerable other events a child is involved in.
You are thirty years old, Hannah, she firmly told herself. Stop feeling obliged to make excuses. Heaven knows you don’t owe Adam Roth any.
“Look,” she said, keeping her tone measured yet firm, “I’m here to see to things. Tammy has me now. And I have a well-thought-out plan. Thank you for your concern, but my sister won’t be needing it any longer.” Her amiable smile bordered on superficial and she knew it. “That is, of course, if you’ve finished the repairs on the roof.”
He tossed her a withering look. “The leak is fixed.”
“Good.” She brightened even further, dismissing him by saying, “Now, you feel free to send me a bill for your work. But you’ll need to get it right to me, I don’t expect to be in Little Haven for long.”
His face was hawkishly handsome, she decided, even under the strain of discontent.
“Don’t think you can get rid of me that easy,” he told her. “The people in this town aren’t going to let you come to Little Haven and tip Tammy’s world off its axis. If you aren’t careful, you’ll send that child into a tailspin.”
He turned on the heel of his leather work boot and stomped off across the grass.
Hannah could have called after him. She could have informed him that she didn’t need his warnings. That he had no rights here whatsoever. And neither did anyone else in Little Haven for that matter. But she didn’t say any of these things. She was just glad to see the last of Adam Roth.
In fact, she was so relieved to see the man go that she wasn’t the least bit aware of how her gaze had latched on to his arrogant, sexy swagger until she’d lost sight of him when he’d turned the corner of the house. Had she been aware of the hungry manner in which she’d stared, she’d have had to admit to wearing one of those imaginary tall, white hats designating her culinary chef of the day.
Adam unbuckled his tool belt, tossed it onto the worn seat and then slid behind the steering wheel of his ancient, battered pickup. He was fuming inside. Fuming to the point that he wouldn’t have been surprised to see smoke coming out his ears if he were to glance at his reflection in the hazy rearview mirror. He felt like a caged grizzly bear who had been poked and prodded with a pointy stick.
Bobby Ray’s family had finally responded to the letters that had been sent. And Hannah Cavanaugh had come to town.
Despite his anger, a vivid image flashed before his eyes. He’d been up on the roof when a noise down below in the yard had caught his attention. At first glance, he’d thought the woman had been Tammy. But he soon discovered he was wrong.
For the rest of his life the image of Hannah Cavanaugh standing on the back lawn would be burned into his brain; the golden, midday sunlight gleaming on her coppery-blond hair, the royal blue of her formfitting dress complimenting her milky skin to perfection, her high-heeled shoes showing off shapely calves. She’d been a dazzling spectacle he wouldn’t soon forget.
However, the fact that she was a stunner didn’t make her any less irritating.
He couldn’t believe she actually meant to waltz into Little Haven and upset Tammy’s whole existence. Granted, Tammy was no child. At least, not in the state’s eyes. She was twenty-four, and had the height and build of a woman to prove her age. However, in her mind she was young and innocent, extremely naive and in need of protection.
Hannah Cavanaugh had referred to her sister as “special” and that was an apt description for Tammy. Adam would be damned if he allowed Bobby Ray’s oldest daughter, or his ex-wife, to hurt the extraordinary young woman. He’d made a promise to Bobby Ray, and he meant to keep it
Adam realized he was going to have a battle on his hands. He had no legal rights. Hank had warned him of that, over and over. But Adam didn’t care. He’d given his word to Bobby Ray. And to Adam, a man was only as good as his word and his reputation.
As he made his way down the rutted lane that would take him to the main road, a vivid picture of Hannah Cavanaugh flashed before his eyes. He may never have met the woman before today, but he knew her. Or rather, he knew her like. High-handed feminists. They came rushing into every situation so intent on fixing things, they never stopped long enough to see if those things were even broke. And the mending and adjusting they did always benefited themselves more so than anyone else.
He’d met more than his share of tyrannical, self-centered women in college and again during his political career in Philadelphia. Hell, he’d even married one of them and tried to make her
