Her Husband-To-Be. Leigh Michaels

      CHAPTER TWO

      DANIELLE didn’t know if it was the tone of Deke’s voice that made her shiver or the sudden chill in the air as the spring breeze freshened. She looked up at him—at the strong line of his throat under the unbuttoned collar of his pin-striped shirt, the square-set jaw, the uncompromising mouth—then let her gaze follow his to the house.

      From this angle, the Merry Widow loomed over them, looking even taller than its actual three full stories. She could almost hear the house issuing a challenge. What are you going to do about me this time? it seemed to be saying.

      Danielle couldn’t help thinking of a nightmare she’d occasionally had as a child, one that had played out the same way from start to finish each time she’d experienced it. No matter how hard she’d struggled to change the outcome, she’d been stuck; the same scary sequence of events had marched inexorably forward to the same scary conclusion.

      It looked as if the Merry Widow was going to turn into precisely that kind of bad dream. Not only did they have the whole process to go through again, just as they had ten months ago, but they were just as unprepared. They hadn’t anticipated the Jablonskis’ defection any more than they’d foreseen the announcement that Miss Fischer’s will had left her beloved house in equal shares to her young friend, Danielle Evans, and to her friend, Deke Oliver....

      But Deke was right about one thing, Danielle reflected. He’d effortlessly put his finger on the main factor that would keep the scenario from playing out identically. This time, they knew exactly what a tough sell the house would be. Ten months ago, when they’d still been stunned by the bequest, it hadn’t occurred to either of them that no one would want the Merry Widow.

      It even seemed, for a while back then, that we might want it....

      Knock it off, Danielle told herself. There had never been a “we”. There never could have been—and though Deke’s cold, blunt announcement of the fact had rasped her pride like a carpenter’s file on balsa wood, at least it hadn’t broken her heart. Danielle thanked heaven for being spared that particular pain.

      She forced her mind back to the important question, the one she didn’t want to face because it seemed unlikely the answers would come any more easily this tune than they had ten months ago. What were they going to do about the house?

      “Did the Jablonskis leave the furniture?” she asked abruptly.

      “How should I know? And why should they?”

      “Because it was part of the deal we made with them that the furnishings stayed with the house.”

      “Agreements don’t always mean a lot when the pressure’s on.”

      “You should know,” Danielle said sweetly. “I don’t think they could have taken out much without Elmwood noticing, though, and I haven’t heard so much as a whisper. Did you say you have a key? Maybe we’d better see what we’re actually dealing with.”

      Deke dug into his trouser pocket for a brass key. Unmarked and without even a cheerful key ring to keep it company, it looked small and lonely as it lay in his palm.

      The back door swung open with a creak. “Too bad it’s the wrong season for a haunted house,” Deke muttered as he pushed the door wide and dropped the key back into his pocket “This place is a natural.”

      Danielle ignored him and stepped over the threshold into the kitchen. She was surprised to find that it looked almost the same as in Miss Fischer’s day. Except, of course, that Miss Fischer would never have condoned the stack of dirty dishes in the sink. “I thought they were going to remodel the kitchen.”

      “There was a lot of talk about it,” Deke mused. “But then, they seemed to have all sorts of grandiose plans—at least while they were negotiating to buy the place. It’ll be interesting to see if any of them got done or if they were just talking a good game till they got possession.”

      “If you’re implying that I was gullible in wanting them to have a chance...”

      Deke’s eyes narrowed. “Feeling a little sensitive, are we?”

      Danielle swallowed hard.

      “Anyway,” Deke went on, “as far as the kitchen goes, they’d have had to install a new one before they could open a regular restaurant, as Joe said he wanted to do. But there’s an exception in the law for bed-and-breakfast places—they don’t have to have commercial kitchen facilities.”

      Danielle pushed open the swinging door into the butler’s pantry and walked through to the dining room. The shades were drawn on most of the windows, and in the dim light the rooms seemed almost timeless.

      The furniture had been rearranged since Miss Fischer’s day; if it hadn’t been for that, Danielle might almost have expected her friend to look up with a smile from the velvet slipper chair in the front parlor and lay her needlepoint aside.

      But so far as Danielle could tell, nothing was missing from the public rooms. The knot in her stomach relaxed a little.

      “Well, that’s a relief,” Deke said. “Though, on the other hand, if they’d stripped the place we’d have had a lot less to deal with.” He stared at the crystal chandelier that hung at his eye level above the huge oval dining table. “You know, if we just called in an auction house—”.

      “Miss Fischer specified that the house and furnishings should stay together.” Danielle walked on into the front foyer and stooped to pick up the envelopes scattered beneath the mail slot in the door.

      “And what’s she going to do about it if we don’t stick to the rules? Follow us around rattling chains and shrieking down chimneys?”

      “Probably only you,” Danielle murmured, “since it’s clearly not my idea to sell all her treasures to the highest bidder” She flipped absently through the mail, then laid it in a neat pile on the carved sideboard that served as a hall table.

      “Well, I don’t believe in ghosts. It’s all very well to carry out the wishes of the dear departed, but sometimes what people want isn’t very practical in the real world, and the ones who are left with the mess just have to do the best they can. Since we’ve already been down the road of selling the place as a package, with somewhat mixed results, I’m only suggesting that—”

      “You know, there’s a problem here.” Danielle was hardly listening to him.

      “Only one?” Deke leaned against the sideboard and folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve singled out for special attention.”

      “We can’t just walk in and put up a for-sale sign.”

      “Why on earth not? The property has reverted to us. Just as a bank can foreclose on a mortgage holder who doesn’t make the payments—”

      “But that’s just it. The Jablonskis haven’t even missed a payment yet In fact, the next one isn’t even due till...” She calculated “Till Tuesday.”

      “Joe said they’re walking out—leaving it all behind. A voluntary abandonment means that we have all rights back immediately.”

      “I don’t doubt that you’re correct about the legalities—if Joe really meant everything he said. But what about Kate? She’s got just as many rights as Joe has, and I don’t think it’s terribly safe to take his word for what she thinks right now.”

      Deke frowned.

      “And what if they change