“And…” Ben put his fork down to lean his elbows on the table.
“And one man, Levi, began to build a coffin for his wife. She had cancer and only had a couple of months to live. It was therapy for Levi. He was a master carpenter, and he built a beautiful casket—gorgeously detailed, finer than any furniture I’ve seen. His wife, Muriel, took a quilt she’d made and fashioned it into a lining for the casket.”
Willa stared at her plate. “I was appalled, at first—until I realized that it was comforting for both of them. Muriel knew she’d be resting eternally in a gift her husband had built with loving hands. And Levi felt more at peace because he was seeing to his wife’s final comfort, just as he’d done for her all his life.”
Silence echoed through the large dining room as Willa looked up at the men, who were staring at her with unblinking, unreadable eyes.
“I decided I wanted to do that for people,” she continued softly. “I took some of the money from my divorce settlement, found a silent partner for the rest, and bought an old factory. The residents of the retirement community became my employees. They’d all watched Levi, and they all wanted to do something just as nice. Older people have a wonderful attitude about death and about life in general. And they’re really great employees. They’ve taught me a lot about running a business.”
“And you say your caskets go all over the world?” Jesse asked. “That’s rather impressive growth for what is basically a cottage industry.”
“Yes.” Willa gave him a Cheshire cat smile. “There are several retired executives living at Grand Point Bluff as well. I hired them, too.”
“That was damn smart of you.” Jesse leaned back in his seat and looked over at Sam. “A very intelligent business move, wouldn’t you say, Sam?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all along.” Sam gazed at Willa with that look again. The one he’d given her in the car that had made her bolt.
“Can we go shopping now?” she asked Ben, standing up.
Chapter Five
Willa munched the lastbite of toast Peg had made her for breakfast as she headed for the parlor to help the staff prepare for Abram’s wake. When she reached the end of the hall leading from the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks. “Richard!” she exclaimed, taking a step back. “What are you doing here?”
Her brother-in-law stood in the foyer, glowering at her. “Somebody had to drive the old bastard home,”
he said. “And your sister volunteered me for the job.”
“That was thoughtful ofShelby . And you,” she quickly tacked on, stepping to the side of the hall when he started toward her. “Um…you’ll probably want to start back right away, just as soon as you get yourself some coffee,” she said, motioning back down the hall. “Peg will fix you up in the kitchen.”
He stopped in front of her. “You’ve been talking toShelby again,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes cold and accusing. “Trying to persuade her to divorce me.”
Willa pressed up against the wall. “What makes you think it’s me? MaybeShelby reached that conclusion by herself.”
He snorted and stepped closer. “Women don’t just suddenly start talking divorce after sixteen years of marriage unless somebody puts the idea in their heads. And you,” he growled, grabbing her by the shoulders when she tried to sidestep away, “are the only person with that kind of influence overShelby .”
Willa became alarmed. Richard Bates wasn’t merely being his contrary self; he was honestly, truly angry. She ducked under his arm and ran toward the parlor—directly into a hall table holding several vases of flowers.
She managed to stop one of the vases from falling, but the two on the far end toppled over, glass shattering onto the marble floor. Richard lunged after her, grabbing her when she slipped, causing her arms to jerk upward. The vase she was holding broke on impact with Richard’s head. She screamed, Richard shouted a succinct curse and let her go, and she fell to the floor with a thud. With a sudden blur of motion, things went from bad to worse. A roar came from the direction of the stairs, and she was suddenly picked up and tossed against a rock-solid chest.
“Did you get cut?” Ben asked, carrying Willa away.
“I don’t think so,” she said, looking over his shoulder when she heard another roar. That one had come from Richard as Sam’s fist made contact with her brother-in-law’s gut. Willa wriggled to get free, but Ben merely continued to carry her away.
“We have to stop them!” she cried, squirming violently enough that Ben lost his grip, allowing her to stand. But it didn’t stop him from dragging her into the parlor, out of sight of the battle she could hear raging in the foyer. “Why is Sam beating him up?”
Ben pulled her over to one of the windows. “He’s got this thing about seeing a guest being attacked.”
“But Richard was—”
“Hold still,” he growled. “I want to make sure you didn’t get cut on the broken glass.”
The sound of splintering wood came from the foyer, along with the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the wall. Willa flinched, and Ben chuckled as he lifted her wrists to see her hands.
“Check my backside,” she said quickly, twisting as if to look behind her. “I think I fell on some glass.”
When he let her go so she could turn around, Willa bolted for the foyer. She came to a skidding stop in the doorway, utterly stunned to see Sam throw Richard against the wall, then grab him by the throat. Richard brought his knee up, and Sam barely deflected a blow to his groin. Richard swung his arms up to break the choking hold and took a swing at Sam’s face.
A porcelain statue was knocked over when Richard slammed into a chair and it crashed into another table near the stairway. A picture fell off the wall. Grunts and flesh-bruising blows echoed throughout the grand foyer, accented by heated curses.
“Stop it! Now!” Willa shrieked.
She might as well have been screaming at two rocks. She flinched when Richard’s fist connected with Sam’s shoulder.
Sam was about the same height as her brother-in-law, but he definitely was the more powerful of the two. Richard, however, was probably more experienced.
When Richard took an obviously painful blow to his stomach, only to give a retaliating kick to Sam’s knee, Willa grabbed the only remaining unbroken vase and pulled out the flowers. Just as Richard was about to take another swing, she threw the water, hitting him in the face. He halted in mid-swing, and Sam’s fist connected with his jaw, dropping him into a heap on the floor.
“That was a dirty shot,” Willa squeaked, horrified.
“But effective,” Sam growled, taking a step toward her.
Willa took a step back.
“Get her the hell out of here,” he said through gritted teeth, looking past her. Willa took another step back and bumped into Ben. “No. Wait. What about—”
“Not now,” Ben said in a hushed voice, moving her toward the stairs. “Let him calm down.”
Willa looked over the railing as she ascended to see that Sam hadn’t moved, standing like a cat over his kill. Several of his shirt buttons were missing, exposing his broad, heaving chest. His fists were clenched at his sides, and every muscle in his body was taut, making him appear ready to deal a deathblow should Richard so much as move.
She looked over at Ben. “But—”
“Hush,” he said as they reached the top of the staircase, putting a finger to her lips. “You go change into dry clothes and make sure you didn’t get cut anywhere, and I’ll help Sam clean up the mess downstairs.”
Willa looked into Ben’s hard eyes, which were in sharp contrast to the softness of his voice. “He’s my brother-in-law. He drove Abram down fromMaine .”
“Sam and I heard you arguing as we came down the stairs, and then you screamed. It looked to us as if he was attacking you.”
“Um…Richard was trying to argue, and I was trying to get away from him. He was accusing me of trying to talk my sister into divorcing him.”