Sandra Orchard - Fatal Inheritance

Becki’s heart lurched at the thought. She didn’t care about the money. The car had been Gramps’s pride and joy. How could she let it go?

She had sat for hours on the backseat with her notepad and pen as Gramps tinkered with something or the other and recounted adventures he’d had driving the car as a boy. She whirled toward Josh. “We can’t let it be stolen!”

“I don’t intend to.”

His confident tone quelled her alarm. Embarrassed she’d let it get the better of her, she gave him a lopsided smile. “Would you show me how it works, too?”

“Be happy to. First, I’ll need to figure out what’s wrong with it. Your gramps and I never did get it running reliably again. I’ll take a look at it this afternoon, after I get those cameras up. If I can get it working, we can take it out after church tomorrow, if you like.”

Becki gave him an impulsive hug. “Thank you!”

Josh folded his arms around her. “My pleasure, Bec.”

The tender sound of his pet name for her momentarily stayed her instinct to pull back. Since learning of her grandparents’ deaths, she’d felt so alone. Josh was the only one to comfort her who really cared.

“Maybe you and I could work on it together, like your gramps did with me after my dad died.”

Reluctantly, she eased her arms from around him, questioning the wisdom of jumping at reasons to spend more time with him. But one look at his red-rimmed eyes and she squeezed her own shut and laid her head against his chest. “You miss them as much as I do.”

He rested his cheek against her hair. “Yes, I do.”

Remembering the secret Anne had shared about how Josh blamed himself for her grandparents’ deaths, Becki hugged him harder.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawled from the direction of the door. “Settling right in, I see.”

Becki sprang from Josh’s arms. Smoothed her hair. “Neil? What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need some help moving in.” His muddy-blond hair was moussed back, his shirt and pants perfectly pressed, his polished shoes not the least bit appropriate for traipsing across the overgrown yard. His gaze drifted up Josh’s full six feet and narrowed on his face. Neil pushed up his glasses with a single finger to the bridge. “But I see you’re covered.”

Was it her imagination or were the two of them puffing out their chests like rival birds fighting over a mate?

Yeah, right. She let out a choked snort. Definitely her imagination.

“How did you find me? I mean...” She hadn’t given anyone from work her new address. The dusty barn air seemed to close in on her.

“Looked up the address on the internet. I remembered you mentioning your grandfather lived in Serenity.” Neil stepped closer, arm outstretched toward Josh. “Neil Orner.”

Josh gave Neil’s hand a swift shake. “Joshua Rayne.”

“Josh is my new neighbor and an old family friend,” Becki rushed to explain. “He was just comforting me over my loss.” She squirmed at how defensive that sounded. She didn’t owe Neil an explanation. They hadn’t dated for over three months. “Um, Neil is a colleague from work,” she said to Josh.

A muscle in Neil’s cheek ticked, but what did he expect her to say?

Josh hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t think Bec ever told me. Where is it you work?”

Neil inhaled, appearing to grow another half inch. “We work at Holton Industries.”

Josh’s jaw dropped a fraction, his eyes widening as he turned his attention back to her. “Industry?” He sounded skeptical. “I always figured you’d go into something to do with writing or graphic arts.”

He thought about her?

“You never went anywhere without a pad and paper.” A far-off look flickered in his eyes and a smile whispered across his lips as if he was picturing her as that tagalong girl again.

“That’s fine for a hobby,” Neil interjected. “But one can hardly make a living—”

“I don’t know. If you’re doing something you love, the rest seems to take care of itself.”

Becki’s chest swelled at Josh’s defense, but his quiet confidence didn’t seem to convince Neil. Of course, Josh had never needed much to be content, whereas Neil always wanted whatever seemed just out of reach. He’d admitted to being a bit of a runt growing up and seemed determined to put the ridicule behind him by latching onto the latest status symbols, which before they broke up had started to include an obsessive interest in her career decisions. That thought made her jittery all over again.

She closed the Cadillac’s door, willing steel into her backbone. “Well, with any luck I’ll find a job I love right here in Serenity.”

Josh rested his hand at her waist, and his touch calmed her instantly. He urged her toward the barn door. “No luck needed. We’ll pray you do.”

The confidence in Josh’s voice raised goose bumps on her arms. Stepping outside, she turned her face to the sun, wishing she could believe prayer would make a difference.

She once had. All those summers here, God had seemed so real. Even when He didn’t answer her prayer that she be allowed to stay with Gran and Gramps after the divorce, she’d clung to Gran’s assurances that God worked all things together for good. But how could any good come from letting Gran and Gramps die of carbon-monoxide poisoning?

Clearly, from the sour look on Neil’s face, he didn’t believe prayer would make a difference, either.

A cell phone rang, and both men reached for their hips.

“It’s mine,” Josh said. He glanced at the screen, then caught Becki’s gaze. “Excuse me a sec.” He stepped away from them, his phone to his ear.

“Why don’t I give you a hand with those boxes in your car?” Neil suggested.

“I can’t believe you came all the way out here.”

He shrugged. “What’s a three-hour drive to help a friend?”

She winced, certain his emphasis on friend was a dig to her “colleague” reference. “Last time we talked you told me I was crazy to want to move here.”

“Still think so. Figured I’d come see what the attraction was.” His gaze strayed to Josh, and he snorted. “I talked to Peters. He’s going to fill your job with a temp for a few months. Give you a chance to decide if this is really what you want.”

“I’ve already made my decision.” She fisted her hands. This was the kind of I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude that had made her break up with him in the first place. He was more controlling than her mother.

“Don’t be mad.” He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “You know you don’t belong here.”

She jerked away from his touch and stalked to her car.

“Rebecca.” He trailed after her. “I was just trying to help. Country living may not be as great as you remember.”

She opened the back door of her car, tugged out a box and plopped it into his arms. “I appreciate that. Really I do.” She grabbed another box and led the way to the front door. “But you shouldn’t have interfered.”

“You’re still mad at me because I didn’t make it to your grandparents’ funeral, aren’t you?”

“What? No!” She shifted her box onto one hip and shoved her key into the door lock. “I never expected you to.”

“I should have been there for you.” He covered her hand and turned the key, pushing open the door.

She snatched her hand back and plowed past him into the house. She set the box on the old deacon’s bench in the front hall, averse to inviting Neil any farther.

“Hey, no matter what else happens, we are friends. Right?”

She stared at him, a tad uneasy about what exactly that meant to him.

“Where do you want these?” Josh’s voice drifted through the door, wrapping around her ragged nerves like a soothing hug. He held a stack of boxes in his arms.