A Perfect Love. Lenora Worth

A Perfect Love - Lenora  Worth


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she might not know all that had happened since then after all.

      “Yes. But they both seemed fine, in good health. Of course, we were all upset about Uncle Stuart.”

      “So you didn’t call ahead, to let them know you were coming?”

      She squirmed a bit. “No. I didn’t want them to worry since I decided to drive across the country. I wanted to take my time, do a little sightseeing.”

      Mack got the feeling she hadn’t noticed the scenery on her long trip home. Maybe she’d just needed some down time.

      He could understand that.

      “Well, they’ll be surprised, that’s for sure.”

      Then he witnessed some of that famous temper Martha had told him about.

      “Listen, mister, I’m getting very bad vibes here. You’re scaring me. If there’s something I need to know about my grandparents, good or bad, then you’d better spit it out.”

      Mack stopped the truck in front of the old two-story white farmhouse that had been the Creswell home for many years.

      Summer looked up at the house. “Oh, we’re here.”

      “Yes,” he said, hating to be the one to break the news to her. “But…there is something you need to know.”

      “I knew it,” she said, her expression grim. “Something bad has happened, right?”

      Mack looked at the house, then back to Summer Maxwell, deciding he’d have to be up front with her. There was just no other way. “Depends on how you look at things,” he said, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

      “Because?”

      “Because, well, Summer, your grandparents no longer own this house.”

      “What?” She opened the door of the truck and ran around to stand in the tree-lined yard, her gaze moving from him to the house and back. “What do you mean?” she asked as she turned and stomped back to him.

      Mack got out of the truck, dread filling his heart. “I mean, your grandparents decided to sell out and move. Your dad bought them this fancy patio apartment in a new retirement village about a mile up the road.”

      “He did what?” Summer shouted, her vivid eyes flashing a fire that only added to her obviously fiery nature. “I can’t believe this! He sold their home? How could he do that? Memaw and Papaw have lived here for over fifty years.”

      “I know,” Mack said, wishing he could soften this news for her. “I know all about this house.”

      “Oh, yeah. And how come you know so much about all of this?”

      Mack glanced at the house, then down at his scuffed work boots. Then he lifted his head and looked straight into Summer’s fighting-mad blue eyes.

      “Because I own it now,” he said. “Your daddy sold this house and the surrounding land to me.”

      Chapter Two

      Summer blinked. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right? Did you say you own this house now?”

      Mack Riley nodded, shifted his feet, let out a long sigh. “I bought it fair and square about a month ago.”

      Summer blew at the wispy bangs slanting across her face, one hand on her hip as she wondered whether just to let him have it and get it over with, or wait and attack her father instead. “Fair and square? Fair and square? Yeah, I’ll just bet my father sold it to you fair and square. How in the world did he get them to agree to this?”

      Mack stepped closer, holding his hands out palms up, as if to protect himself. Which wasn’t a bad idea right now, by Summer’s way of thinking. “Your grandparents seem happy with the arrangement. In case you haven’t noticed, this house is old and in great need of repair, and…well, your grandparents are in about the same shape.”

      She advanced. “And just who are you to be telling me about my own grandparents?”

      He stepped closer, no fear in his eyes. More like defiance and that resolve she’d seen earlier. Which only made Summer even more mad.

      “I’ll tell you who I am,” he said. “I’m about the only one around here who does know about your grandparents. You see, I talk to them on pretty much a daily basis. Your father and mother call every now and then, and you…well, you said yourself you haven’t seen them or talked with them since your uncle’s funeral. So that leaves me. And believe me, I think they are better off in that retirement village. At least there, they’re among friends and near qualified people who can help them.”

      Summer couldn’t believe he was standing here preaching to her! “Oh, well, excuse me. Since you obviously know so very much about my shortcomings, and since you are such a saint for watching over my grandparents, I guess that gives you every right to just bully them out of their home.”

      “I didn’t bully anybody,” he retorted, his voice low and full of frustration. “I liked the house and knew it was where I wanted to live. So I bought it.”

      “Fair and square, of course.”

      “Yes. I made them a good offer and they took it. It’s that simple.”

      Summer stomped to the truck to get her duffel bag. “Oh, there is nothing simple about this. This…this isn’t right. But then, I should have known a man in cahoots with my wayward father wouldn’t understand the implications of something so horrible.”

      “Hey, hold on,” Mack said, taking the bag right out of her hand with surprising ease. “I’m not in cahoots with anyone. I just moved here and needed a place to live. So I bought this house from your father. End of story.”

      Summer tapped her platform sneaker against the aged wooden steps of the house, her blood boiling just like the radiator on her car had been doing earlier. She could almost feel the hot steam coming out of her ears. “Oh, I think there is much more to this story, and I intend to find out the whole truth.”

      Such as, how had her father become the spokes-person for her grandparents, and if the house was in such bad repair, why hadn’t James Maxwell forked over the funds to renovate his in-laws’ home? It just didn’t make any sense. But lately, nothing much in her life had made any sense.

      She turned and headed to the house, then stopped, hitting a palm to her forehead. “Silly me. I can’t stay here now. Not with you.” Then she plopped down on the steps and looked up at him. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

      Mack had never seen a more dejected sight. A beautiful, uptown blonde in worn jeans and strange shoes, sitting on the broken steps of a hundred-year-old farmhouse, her eyes brilliant with tears she refused to shed, her expression bordering on outrage, and…her hands trembling slightly as she dropped them over her knees.

      All of his protective instincts surfaced, reminding him that he’d come here to find some peace and quiet, not get tangled up in a family squabble. But he had to help her, even if she was fighting mad at him, and the world in general. If for no other reason than to get her off his doorstep.

      Thinking she didn’t look so bad sitting there, however, he said, “Look, you know there’s plenty of room in the house.”

      “I can’t stay here with you,” she repeated, gritting the words between her clenched teeth. “First, I’d rather eat nails than do that, and second, this is a small, old-fashioned town. I wouldn’t want my grandparents to hear any rumors.”

      “I admire your stand,” Mack said, daring to sit down on the bottom step. “But even if you did want to stay here, the house is being renovated. There’s very little furniture and the plumbing is barely working. I’m not even living here full-time myself right now. How about you get a room at that motel out on the highway?”

      “How about that?” she said, hitting her hand on her knee.


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