A Conard County Courtship. Rachel Lee
He’d had no conscience about robbing her family into abject poverty. Why would he have gotten one at such a late stage in his life?
Chilly air stirred suddenly, and she heard a distant whoompf that probably indicated Tim had started the heater. Considering that he had the water running now, that was an excellent thing.
A minute later he appeared, wiping his hands on a rag that he jammed into the back pocket of his jeans. “All set. They make much more efficient models now, but this will do. It shouldn’t break down, anyway. And when you’re ready to go, I’ll winterize the house again.”
He grabbed some coffee of his own and joined her at the table.
“I was just getting ready to leave,” Earl announced. “I have a three o’clock meeting. If you need anything, call me.” He handed her a business card along with a warm smile, then walked out.
When Vanessa remained silent, Tim spoke. “I guess this hit you like a ton of bricks.”
“To put it mildly.”
He just shook his head, unsure what he could say. “I’ve got to run soon as well. I need to pick up my son from school. I’ll bring him back here so we can have some time to discuss what has to be done and whether you want to do any more than that.”
She nodded. “How old is your son?”
“Seven. Anyway, we’re going to be getting a sharp temperature drop anytime now, and I don’t want him out there walking in subzero temps.”
“I’d forgotten.” If she’d ever really known. “It can change fast, can’t it?”
“Very fast. And we’re just sliding into winter, so nobody’s really ready. Blizzard tonight, maybe. If you can stand it, you might want to stay here rather than at the motel. We can get you some food in so you don’t have to hoof it or drive to get a meal. The thing about the motel is that it’s used mainly by truckers and transients. You might feel safer here, much as you hate it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He stood. “I’ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes...unless you’d rather I didn’t come back.”
For once since getting here she didn’t feel like hesitating. “No, come back. I’d like to meet your son.”
He nodded once with a smile, then left the kitchen. She listened to his boots cross the foyer, then the front door opened and closed.
Earl had done his best, Tim was a nice guy and maybe she could survive this trip after all.
But the thought of being snowed in here? She shuddered. There’d be no way to avoid the memories then.
* * *
From what Earl had told him, Tim guessed this visit had to be a painful one for Vanessa. Although she’d been a child his own son’s age when her family’s life had fallen apart, she probably remembered enough to find it uncomfortable to return. While it was old news, when Bob Higgins had died in prison, people had recalled his life and crimes, and inevitably Tim had learned something about the man.
He’d apparently set himself up as an investment adviser and had a few impressive pieces of paper framed on his office wall. He’d even been licensed by the state. Everyone knew him, most people liked him and it hadn’t taken him long to get his business rolling.
It must have rolled well for ten or twelve years before it caught up with him. Tim didn’t understand exactly how the scheme had worked, but Bob had persuaded people to entrust him with their money to invest, and most had only given him amounts they never needed back, or if they needed to pull something out, they’d been able to.
But Vanessa’s parents had been different. They’d thought their investments were growing so well that Bob Higgins had managed to persuade them to give him even more, promising them a fortune. They’d mortgaged their ranch and had learned the bleak truth when they needed money from their investments to pay that mortgage.
Tim didn’t pretend to understand how it all had worked or why Higgins had persuaded the Wellings to mortgage their ranch. Maybe because he was getting to the point where he needed money to pay clients a return?
Regardless of it all, the Wellings had left town, and Bob Higgins had been exposed and sent to jail.
But he could see no earthly reason why the man would have deeded his house to Vanessa. No good reason.
He joined the line of parents waiting in their vehicles at the elementary school. The temperature had begun to drop, and the teachers were blowing clouds of fog when they spoke and hurried the children along. Cheeks quickly brightened to red, and there was little of the usual horseplay. The cold had shocked the kids, too.
Tim started to smile as he watched his son, Matthew, race toward the truck. The boy reminded him of his mother, Claire, with his round face, a splatter of freckles across his nose, and a dark blond hair. Every time Tim saw him, he felt an ache for Claire.
Leaning over, he unlatched the door and threw it open for the boy. Matt scrambled in then used both hands to close the door. As usual, Matt did everything at top speed.
The door was open long enough, however, for Tim to feel the dangerous cold deepening outside. If the forecast held, they might need to close school tomorrow. Occasionally it grew too cold to expect children to walk to school or to bus stops.
“How was your day, kiddo?”
“Okay,” Matthew answered. He grinned as he struggled to buckle himself in, showing off the two new front teeth that were emerging. He’d just outgrown the child seat, but was still having trouble with the regular seat belt.
“Just okay?” Tim asked.
“Well, Orson turned green around his neck and got all ruffed up.” Orson was an exotic lizard who lived in a large aquarium. “Ms. Macy said something must have scared him. That was probably Tommy. He kept banging a penny against the tank.”
“Why did Tommy do that?”
Matthew shrugged. “I guess it was fun. Everybody was pretty mad about Orson, though. He doesn’t bother anybody.”
“I don’t imagine he does. Lots of homework?”
“Not much. Two work sheets.”
At last able to pull out of the line, Tim drove back toward the Higgins house—although he supposed it was the Welling house now—and listened to Matthew’s cheerful recounting of the day and his pride in bringing home his very first library book from the school.
It wasn’t as if Tim hadn’t been taking him to the public library all along, but the school library was something special.
“Where are we going, Daddy?”
“Back to the house I’m working on. There’s a lady there now—she owns the house. So...”
“Company manners,” Matthew said with a sharp nod of his head. “Is she a nice lady?”
“I think so, but I just met her before I came to get you.”
“She’s not a witch?” Matt asked, scrunching up his face and making his small hands into claws.
“What have you been reading?” Tim asked, eliciting a giggle.
“Fun stuff. Ms. Macy says I’m too young for Harry Potter, though.”
“Oh. Did you want to read it?” He suspected Ms. Macy’s objection arose more from what some parents around here thought of children reading about wizards and magic.
“Joey’s brother did. He loves it.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do about getting a copy from the library. You can try it and see.”
For that he received an ear-to-ear grin.
Occasionally when he talked with his son, Tim felt a nostalgia for his own childhood, when everything