Their Family Legacy. Lorraine Beatty
killed his friend Bobby Lee Owens had occurred. They’d both been drinking when they started home from a party before losing control and hitting a tree.
Bobby Lee’s parents weren’t satisfied with Jake going to jail for a year for involuntary manslaughter. They wanted him to pay a bigger price. As mayor of Hastings and close friends with the local judge, Mr. Owens was able to concoct an unusual sentence. Once a year, on the day of Bobby Lee’s death, Jake would come to the Owens home and pay them a dollar. They wanted to make sure that he never forgot what he’d done.
At the time he’d agreed to the arrangement. It seemed a better choice than going to jail. Besides, he was the foster kid on the block. Bobby Lee was the town’s golden boy. What choice did he have?
The thing was, he didn’t need a court order to remember the date or what had happened. Being forced to confront the Owens each year only poured salt in his unhealed wounds.
The wide mahogany door swung open. He caught his breath. The woman standing there was no pinched-faced spinster with hate-filled eyes. Quite the opposite. She was blonde with wide blue eyes the color of chicory flowers, and hair the golden shade of early wheat. He guessed her age to be close to his own. There was a sweet freshness about her that brought a smile to his lips, which he quickly stopped. He was here to serve his sentence, not to charm a pretty lady.
He braced himself for the confrontation to come. She smiled, bringing a light into her blue eyes that captivated him. There was something lovely and appealing about her girl-next-door looks. She stood about five foot four, with a determined posture that said she was used to taking care of herself.
“Can I help you?”
The question threw him until he remembered she probably had no idea who he was. “I’m Jake Langford.”
The friendly smile quickly turned to a look of stunned shock. Her gaze made a quick survey of his frame and a frown creased her forehead. The light in her eyes darkened.
“Oh. Yes. I’ve been expecting you. I’m Annelle Shepard. Margaret Owens was my aunt.”
Her voice was rich and musical. He cleared his throat. “Yes, so I was told.” He stood stock still, waiting for her to make the next move. This was usually the point at which Mrs. Owens would hold out her hand for his payment, a sneer on her lips and fire in her eyes as she slowly took the bill from his hand. Then the diatribe would begin.
The niece took a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest in the same manner as her aunt. Here it comes. He dreaded hearing angry words from this lovely woman. Her sunny looks suggested that she didn’t know the first thing about hate or revenge. But then he wasn’t a real good judge of character. He met her gaze and saw the blue eyes held puzzlement. She wasn’t what he’d expected. Maybe the same was true on her end.
She broke eye contact. “I think you have something for me?”
He drew the bill from his pocket, smoothed it out between his fingers and handed it to her. She stared at the money as if it was poison. He could read reluctance and perhaps distaste in her posture. Was it possible that she wasn’t as committed to punishing him forever as her aunt had been?
She took the dollar with one quick movement. “Thank you. I’ll inform the attorney that you’ve met your obligation.”
Jake nodded, unable to believe his ears. “There’s nothing else?”
“Such as?”
He debated whether to explain or simply turn and leave. No need to stir the pot, but he found himself rooted to the porch by a growing curiosity about the lovely niece. “Your aunt usually liked to expound on what happened that day.”
A faint rosy tinge stained her cheeks. “I’m sure she did. You did take the life of her only son and my best friend.”
He searched his memory for one of this pretty woman as a girl. “I don’t remember you.”
“We moved away when I was fourteen. I never saw Bobby Lee again. You’re responsible for that.”
Her words pierced like a knife. There was nothing he could say. “If that’s all, I need to be going.”
Mrs. Shepherd’s blue eyes searched his face. “Yes. We’re done. Until next year.”
Jake spoke before he could censor his words. “And the year after that, and the year after that.”
The pulse at the base of her neck throbbed rapidly. “I didn’t make this arrangement, Mr. Langford.”
“But you’re choosing to continue it.”
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I have my reasons.”
“I’m sure you do. Goodbye.” He pivoted and took the steps slowly, replaying the encounter in his mind, examining every moment. Today’s exchange was totally different from years past. Mrs. Owens had taken great pleasure in reminding him of all the joys of life her son would never know. College, marriage, children and whatever else she had dreamed up in her warped mind. The woman had been bitter and vindictive.
Annelle Shepherd on the other hand appeared to be the opposite. He hadn’t sensed any anger in her tone or attitude, only resolve. At the sidewalk he turned and glanced back at the house. Mrs. Shepherd was still standing in the door, studying him. She darted back inside quickly and shut the door.
For the first time in fifteen years, Jake wished he had to pay another dollar tomorrow. He definitely wanted to know more about his new warden.
* * *
Annie shut the door, blocking her view of the departing Jake Langford. She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart. Her anxiety over her first encounter with the man had been replaced by surprise and confusion.
He was nothing like she’d expected, and she was unsure how to deal with the discovery. In her mind she’d always seen him as hard and unfeeling, with no respect for anyone. But the man who’d come to her door dressed in neatly pressed khaki pants and a pale green polo shirt resembled more of a successful business man than a hardened criminal.
He’d stood a good six feet, maybe more, with broad shoulders, a lean physique and warm, intelligent brown eyes. His dark walnut-toned hair was thick and perfectly styled. The intriguing angle of his features cast interesting shadows on his high cheekbones and generous mouth. The deep creases at the corners of his mouth peeked out when he spoke and softened the sharp line of his jaw.
Annie stared at the dollar in her hand. What was she supposed to do with it? Save it? Spend it? First she had to report it. Reaching for her phone she opened her contacts list. Her aunt’s attorney, Dalton Hall, took her call immediately. “How did it go?”
“Fine. He handed me the money and left.”
“Really? He didn’t give you any trouble?”
Mr. Hall’s tone revealed his surprise. “No. He was polite and respectful.”
“He wasn’t upset that the sentence is continuing?”
Clearly this year’s meeting had not developed the same way in the past. “I think he probably was, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, I had the impression that he regretted what happened.” That was a surprise.
“Interesting. Your aunt usually reported extensive verbal confrontations.”
She found it hard to imagine the polite, soft-spoken man at her door becoming belligerent. “He didn’t do anything like that.” A wave of sympathy coursed through her. It seemed cruel to force a man to relive the worst day of his life year after year. But she didn’t know how she would react if she were in the same position and had lost her son to a drunk driver. “It seems odd to me that she’d insist on maintaining this arrangement.”
“Your aunt was a very unhappy woman, Mrs. Shepherd. I tried repeatedly to persuade her to let go of this arrangement, but she was adamant.”
“I