her cleft chin, “you and your son should, perhaps, stay with my sisters and me at Chatam House.”
Jessa turned a startled gaze on the older woman. “Chatam House. That’s the mansion we passed on the way here. Abby pointed it out.”
Magnolia waved away the description. “It’s just a big old house with a great deal of room.”
A big old house with a ballroom, library, sunroom and more than a dozen bedrooms, Garrett thought wryly. It was the largest house in the entire town of Buffalo Creek, Texas, and had been since before the Civil War.
Jessa shook her head, saying to Magnolia, “We couldn’t impose on you like that.”
“No imposition at all,” Magnolia told her. “You would be entirely welcome, I assure you. We’re used to unexpected guests. We delight in them, in fact. Ellie is staying at Chatam House, you know, along with her grandfather.”
That ignited a light in Jessa Lynn Pagett’s dark eyes. “The Monroes are staying at Chatam House?”
“That’s right, and I’m sure that as soon as we get everyone together, we can settle this whole thing,” Magnolia told her, folding her gnarled hands against the waistband of her old-fashioned shirtwaist dress. “Though not tonight. I know for a fact that Ellie has a date tonight with her fiancé, my nephew, Asher.”
Jessa chewed her full lower lip, digesting this information. “I see. So, it would be for just one night?”
Magnolia smiled, saying, “That’s up to you, dear. You can stay as long as necessary. No one will mind.”
Looking around her, Jessa considered. Garrett’s gaze followed hers. Flakes of scorched, yellowed paper that she’d obviously been peeling off the wall littered every surface from the painted counters and shelves to the hardwood floors. She might be small, but she was obviously capable and had been very busy here. He found that oddly attractive. In fact, he found her oddly attractive, which was no doubt a very bad idea.
They were essentially opponents here, each claiming rights to the same property. Attraction could only get in the way. Yet, something about her called to him. Not that a woman like her would ever give a second look to someone like him.
Suddenly, what had, not many minutes before, seemed so sweetly straightforward had somehow become a tangled, confusing mess. And wasn’t that the story of his life?
Oh, Lord, he asked silently, why can’t it ever be simple with me?
Finally, Jessa Pagett nodded. “All right. I accept your invitation. We’ll try not to be any bother.”
“I’m sure you won’t be,” Magnolia replied politely, while Garrett tried mightily to believe it. “Honestly, Chatam House is the next best thing to a hotel these days.”
“Thank you for the invitation. I—I’ll have Abby drop us off later.”
Magnolia gave her hands a clap. “Lovely. My sisters and I will look forward to hosting you. And say hello to Abby for me, won’t you?” Jessa nodded stiffly. “We’ll let ourselves out now and see you later, then.” She started away, snagging Garrett by the short sleeve of his faded red T-shirt.
Blinking, he realized that he’d been staring at Jessa Lynn Pagett for some time. He cleared his throat. “Sorry about…” He waved a hand at the ladder.
Her dainty fingers fluttered nervously at her sides, then she shrugged. “Scared me, but no harm done, I guess.”
He backed away, saying, “I trust you can lock up.”
She gave him a wry smile. “I have a key.”
Slipping his from the pocket of his jeans, he held it aloft. “Me, too.”
And that about summed up the situation. They both had a claim to the place. The only question now was: Whose claim would actually prevail?
Garrett turned and followed Magnolia from the house. He carefully locked the door behind him and once more pocketed the key, his shoulders slumping.
“Now, now,” Magnolia assured him, “all will be well, never you fear.”
“I know,” he told her glumly, stooping to accept her wiry hug. “I know.”
Somehow, it would all work out. If the April afternoon no longer seemed quite as bright as it had earlier, well, it was still a far cry from the darkness of his past.
Thank You, Lord, he prayed silently, tamping down his disappointment and qualms, for bringing dear old Mags and her sisters into my and Bethany’s lives.
His younger sister, Bethany, had married another Chatam nephew, Chandler, last summer, and together they were raising a young son on their ranch outside of Stephenville, about three hours away.
Whatever happens, Garrett went on determinedly, I am blessed. Help me to remember that. Always.
He had the feeling that he was going to need reminders in the days to come.
“I should’ve known,” Jessa muttered, swiping at the hot tears that rolled down her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she turned her face upward, speaking through her teeth, “But just once couldn’t it have been easy? Please, God. How can You let this happen now? Is a safe place in this world too much to ask?”
She’d thought that she and Hunter were finally going to get their lives together, but no. That Willows guy thought this was his house. And maybe it was. Talk about your major complications.
If that wasn’t bad enough, why did he have to be so good-looking, too? The last thing she needed in her life was another handsome man, especially one with electric blue eyes—and a claim on her property. This house here on Charter Street was the perfect place for her to open her florist shop and make a home for Hunter. For a couple hours, she’d thought God had answered her prayers, only to have her hopes dashed.
“Well, what else is new?” she asked herself, scrubbing away fresh tears. It wasn’t as if God had ever really listened to her, after all.
At least she and Hunter had a place to spend the night. They’d already overstayed their welcome at Abby’s retirement complex, which restricted guests to visits no longer than four nights in a row.
Jessa shuddered to think what they’d have done without Abby, who was an old friend of her mom’s. When Jessa had finally gathered the courage to leave behind her old life and rebuild here in Buffalo Creek, Abby had not only offered temporary sanctuary, she’d come after them in her old car. She had even thought of the Monroe place for them, having seen a change of zoning notice in the local newspaper. Her personal connection with Ellie Monroe had made the idea seem heaven-sent. Jessa had reached an agreement with Ellie about leasing the place even before she’d seen inside the house, but as soon as she’d walked through the front door, a sense of well-being had come over her, a feeling of home.
So much for that.
Not that she would just roll over and give up. She’d fought fiercer battles, after all. No, she was going to stay, at least for the night, at Chatam House. With the Monroes. And find a way to plead her case. The worst that could happen was that she’d get her money back, some of it, anyway.
