But Shane Brandt had never said he loved her, not since her mother’s death twenty-four years ago.
Dr. Darling tugged open the door on the passenger side of his car and Nicole climbed in. He got in the other side, then started the motor.
“I guess we’ll start with the main part of town. That brick building is the office. We’re open Monday to Friday, nine to five. Receptionist, one lab tech and a nurse. Closed for holidays and weekends. Town hall, recreation center, library, church.” He rattled off the information, waving a hand here and there as they rolled along at a sedate twenty-one miles per hour.
“Those are apartments for seniors. Out of fashion though it may be, we still occasionally make house calls there.”
He seemed to be waiting for her to comment, but Nicole only nodded, scanning the pretty town curiously.
“This is the oldest part of Blessing, as you can see by the houses here.”
“It’s lovely.” Nicole gaped at the huge wraparound porches and burgeoning flower beds that perched on vast green lawns like the backdrop in some whimsical fairy tale.
“Most of them have been kept up pretty well. Some are historic sites.” He waved a hand toward a small blue lake. “The newer architectural wonders in Blessing are over there. They don’t take near the same amount of upkeep, have normal heating bills and enjoy a great view.”
“Oh, but these old houses are chock-full of character. They’re charming.”
Except for the one on the far end. It looked…neglected? No, that wasn’t exactly the word. The paint was fine. It was more the shaggy lawn and unplanted flower beds that seemed out of place here in never-never land.
Nicole ignored it and focused instead on the maple-lined streets. “The town is lovely.”
“Yes, it is. This one is Aunt Winifred’s home. It’s way too big for her, of course, but as the self-appointed matriarch of Blessing, she feels compelled to maintain her place in the history of the town. Besides—” he grinned, his lips curving with affection “—she grew up in this mausoleum and won’t hear of leaving it.”
Nicole swallowed, stunned by his good looks when he let go of that forbidding reserve. “I can understand why she doesn’t want to leave,” she murmured, glancing at the house, which she’d admired earlier.
He pulled up to the curb and stopped the car.
“Come on. I’m sure she’s home. It’s Thursday afternoon, after all.”
Whatever that meant.
Nicole climbed out of the car and followed him through the white picket gate and up a sidewalk flanked by hordes of sunny daffodils waving in the gentle breeze. The house was a masterpiece of pure Victoriana. It was the same house she’d been ogling just before Ruthie had clashed with the pavement. So how come this woman—their aunt?—hadn’t offered to help?
They climbed five sparkling-white steps bounded by climbing shrubs and huge clay pots with dark purple pansies peeking out, to arrive at a brilliant red door.
“She’s a bit eccentric, but she has a good heart. This door is about the only thing she’s changed in the place.” Dr. Darling rapped the brass knocker with authority, then twisted the handle to open the door.
“Aunt Winifred? It’s me.”
A woman bustled into the foyer, wiping her hands on an immense white apron as she did. She had to be over sixty, but she was obviously not living in the past. Her soft fawn-colored hair lay in short, stylish waves about her face. She wore a periwinkle-blue blouse tucked into matching slacks, pure white sneakers and a smile as big as all outdoors.
“Joshua! My dear, how are you?” She hugged him exuberantly, as if she hadn’t seen him in months. “Come in. I’m glad I made it back before you arrived. Thursday afternoons are supposed to be my time off, and I usually go shopping. But it’s so busy in the afternoons that buying groceries always takes longer than I expect.” She frowned, brushed his hair back off his forehead. “You look tired, dear. What have those girls been up to now?”
“More of the same, I’m afraid. Ruth Ann broke her arm today.”
“Mercy!” The older woman tut-tutted her dismay, but her eyes were on Nicole. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”
One mystery solved.
“Aunt Winifred, this is Dr. Nicole Brandt. She’s going to be working with me. And staying with you, if the deal’s still on.”
“Of course it’s on. How lovely you are, dear. Your hair is quite gorgeous. I always did say blondes have more fun.” Miss Winifred winked as she shook Nicole’s hand firmly. “I’m going to love having company here. This big old house rattles with just me in it.”
“You could move out, you know. Those new condos on the hill are much smaller.” Joshua glanced around, grimacing. “There’s too much work here for you.”
“Nonsense! This place has been standing since Matthais Blessing first built it in 1874. The Blessings have always lived here. Besides, what would I do without my gardens? Come.”
She led them out to a screened porch that sat at the back of the house. Here, too, flowers dotted the deck and the yard beyond in a riot of color.
Nicole cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I don’t think I understood. You mean you’re one of the original founders of this town?” She glanced at Joshua. What about the “aunt” relationship?
“We’re not related by blood,” Joshua muttered.
“Actually, I’m not an original, either.” Miss Winifred fluffed her hair, preening just a little. “I am the last of the direct descendants, however.”
“Yes, of course. Er, that’s what I meant. Sorry.” Nicole winced at her tactless words. “You must be very proud that the town has done so well. It looks like a lovely place to live.”
“It is, rather. We have our problems, but we manage. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else.” Miss Winifred set a pitcher of iced tea on the table, then fetched three glasses. “Joshua did tell me where you were from, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.”
“Boston.” Nicole let it go at that. There was no point in explaining. People seldom understood.
“But how wonderful! I lived in Boston when my father sent me to finishing school.” Miss Winifred smiled. “He thought it was important for me to be trained in society. Of course, people don’t worry about that anymore, but it was a big thing then.”
“My father sent me to Lucerne to be ‘finished.’” Nicole regretted saying it the moment the words left her lips. It sounded pompous, as if she were bragging.
But Miss Winifred merely nodded, her eyes far away. “A lovely place. I always wanted to visit Switzerland.”
“Yes, it is special. But so is this.” Nicole took a sip of the drink, eyes widening at the flavor. “Your tea is wonderful.”
“Raspberry juice, dear. Gives it a hint of fruit
