“I knocked out my own stuffing, Maureen,” Willa said with a laugh. “I was so nervous I nearly killed myself getting off the elevator. Um…about those beautiful suits you lent me? The brown one is okay because I was wearing it, but the green one has a tear in the skirt. The elevator ate it—along with the slacks Joan lent me.”
Maureen blinked at her in the mirror. “Can it be repaired?”
Willa turned to face her. “I don’t think so. The elevator chewed it up pretty badly.” She turned back to the mirror and started braiding her hair. “We’ll get on the Internet tomorrow, and you can pick out a new suit that you like.”
“It was a Pendleton, Willa. It cost me a week’s wages.”
Which was somewhere around a hundred and fifty bucks forty years ago, Willa figured. “You can also pick out a matching blouse and even a purse if you want.” She tied off the end of her thick braid and tossed it over her shoulder. “And just between you and me,” she said in a conspirator’s whisper, “I had those stuffed suits shaking in their shoes by the end of the meeting. I told them I wasn’t voting Abram’s shares until I was good and ready. Then I told the three grandsons that they were taking me to dinner that night, and we wouldn’t resume the board meeting until I was ready to vote.”
Maureen’s eyes widened. “I bet they didn’t like that.” She tapped her cane on the floor. “You did good, boss. Didn’t I tell you to walk in there as if you owned the place? God, I wish I’d been there to see it. Which one of the boys did you vote for?”
“I didn’t get to vote. Abram died the next morning, and my proxy died with him.”
Maureen’s excitement instantly vanished. “The old poop.” She turned to leave. “This place isn’t the same without him running around sticking his nose into everything.” She stopped at the door and looked
back. “Are you coming to the break room? You can at least tell us about the funeral.” She smiled.
“Abram looked right good in his casket, didn’t he?”
“You saw him in it?” Willa asked in surprise.
“Spencer arranged a viewing for us before Abram was shipped out. We all wanted to say our good-byes. That Spencer is a really nice fellow, for a lawyer.” She frowned. “Except he invited the coffee clubbers to come say good-bye, too. The mood sort of disintegrated when they walked in.” She lifted her chin. “Those people are really annoying. They were acting as if Abram was their best friend.”
“He had breakfast with them every morning, Maureen.”
“Still. That Doris Ambrose tucked an angel figurine in Abram’s casket, bawling like a baby. After she left, Silas shoved it down to Abram’s feet so his grandsons wouldn’t think we’re all wacko up here. So, are you coming to the break room?”
Willa sighed. “I’ll be there in a minute, and I’ll tell you all about Rosebriar, the grandsons, and the funeral.”
Maureen rushed off to inform the others, and Willa took her time straightening her bathroom. Before she’d left, she’d endured three days of being told how to act in a big-business board meeting, and her mentors were expecting to hear the details.
Willa stared into the mirror. She owed these sincere people so much for supporting her these past five years, and they deserved nothing but honesty from her. Besides, the majority of them were retired executives with cumulative decades of experience; surely they could help her figure a way out of the bequest.
Willa walked out of her office and down the hall, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of hardwood resin. What had made her think that she could ever sail off into the sunset? She belonged here , in Keelstone Cove, in her factory, taking care of her adopted family. And Emmett. And Shelby and Jennifer and Cody. There might be times when she felt damned if she stayed, but she would surely die inside if she left.
She had just started to push open the door to the break room when she heard a familiar male voice say,
“And this is where the mainsail winch took the first chunk out of me. They really should put safety guards on those things.”
What was he doing here? Willa inched open the door and peeked inside, then immediately let it close, putting her back to the wall, her hand covering her heart. Holy hell, she’d forgotten how handsome he was. The last time she’d seen Sam, he’d had a five-day beard and more bruises than a prize fighter and had been stuffing his face like a caveman.
Damn, he cleaned up good.
He obviously had no intention of going back toNew York . Did he think to pick up where Abram had left off, hoping to rally her workers to his cause? By God, she’d fire them all if they even hinted that Sam would make her a wonderful husband.
The door suddenly opened, and Maureen walked out, giving a surprised yelp. “Land gracious, Willa, you startled me! I was coming after you again. You’ll never guess who’s here.” Then she frowned.
“Wait, you knew Sam Sinclair was in town, because he said he sailed in on the RoseWind with you. How come you didn’t tell me about him when I came to get you?”
“I forgot,” Willa said, walking past her into the suddenly silent break room. “Carl, I sold that custom rock maple casket last night and put the sales slip on your desk.” She went to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup, then turned and smiled at her crew. “I see you’ve all been very busy while I was away,”
she drawled. “Last night, when I stopped in to get Cyrus a casket for Gramps, I had to go back outside and look at the building to make sure I was in the right place. It amazes me how you can suddenly decide to remodel the reception area and get it completely done in less than ten days—all without the owner of the business knowing she even wanted to remodel.”
Nobody said anything.
Willa kicked her smile up a notch. “And I see you’ve all met Abram’s grandson Sam.” She looked directly at him. “Thank you for stopping by on your way back toNew York , to thank everyone personally for their condolences.”
Sam brushed the front of his shirt, sprinkling the floor with tiny wood shavings. “Actually, I stopped by this morning looking for a job.” He nodded toward Silas. “Mr. Payne was nice enough to give me a position in the planing room. I had no idea how precise woodworking is, but I hope I can get the hang of it in a few days.” He glanced toward Levi, the master carpenter, and smiled. “Assuming Levi doesn’t run me through the planer for ruining another bird’s-eye maple board.”
He was working here?
Willa’s hormones started doing their little happy dance, and she firmly tamped them down. “Wonderful.”
She looked at Silas Payne. “Though I just got back, I have to leave for the day, I’m afraid.Shelby ’s moved in with me, and we have to do some house rearranging.”
“Shelbyleft Richard!” Maureen shouted, thumping her cane. “I knew that girl would come to her senses!”
Shelbywas a regular at Kent Caskets when her kids were in school, sometimes filling in when a worker was sick and sometimes just visiting. Everyone knew she was unhappy, and in their own subtle way, all had encouraged her to leave Richard.
“But why did she move in with you?” one of the women from interiors asked. “Why didn’t she kick Richard out?”
“She can’t, Mabel,” Willa explained. “That house has been in the Bates family for five generations.”
“But that means Ida Bates will have to move back home to take care of Richard,” another woman said.
“We’re going to lose our fourth for bridge.”
“Richard Bates can damn well take care of himself,” Maureen interjected. “Ida’s not about to move back to that drafty old farmhouse. She loves her apartment at Grand Point.”
Willa set her coffee mug in the dishwasher before heading for the door. “I have to go. Richard is getting back today, and he doesn’t knowShelby moved out.” She stopped in the doorway. “I promise to tell you all aboutNew York tomorrow. Try not to remodel anything else until then, would you?”