The Inheritance Read online

  Jen was not prepared for how dilapidated the once lovely Victorian house had become. There were dust sheets over the furnishings. The Oriental carpets were dirty and worn. Cobwebs decorated the corners of the high ceilings. There were cracks in the walls. Even the floorboards creaked with sinister glee. How could she ever bring Aaron into such a place? It must be cleaned and repaired by the time he finished camp. Mr. Donne told her he would arrange for the utilities to be turned on again, and that thought was comforting.

  Then something scampered by her feet and she let out a gasp. That was it! She wasn’t going to look any further, not for now. Jen hurried out to her car, sat down in the driver’s seat and clicked on her cell phone, pressing the number Mr. Donne had written out for her.

  After a few rings, someone picked up. “Coleman’s Construction Company.” A man’s voice with a deep, pleasant sound.

  Jen introduced herself and then explained her situation.

  “Well, I can meet you at the house tomorrow morning and see what has to be done.”

  Jen breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be great. Are you Mr. Coleman?”

  “That’s right. I’m Rob. Look forward to meeting with you, Mrs. Stoddard.”

  She liked the sound of the man’s voice. It was reassuring. Wouldn’t it be nice if he were a magician? But that was only in the movies or books. She let out a deep sigh. Another Coleman. Was he related to Grant? She hoped not.

  Jen decided to check into a motel she’d seen out on the highway. There was no way she could possibly stay at her grandmother’s house. Strange, it had seemed so beautiful when she was young. Spending time with Grandma had been among her best childhood memories. She smiled recalling how they’d prepared chocolate chip cookies from scratch. She’d never eaten better cookies before or since. She resolved to restore the house as best she could to its former glory.

  Chapter Four

  The Bloomingvale Diner hadn’t changed all that much over the years, although the booths were now upholstered in bright red vinyl, and the waitresses certainly appeared to be younger and more attractive than she remembered.

  Jen seated herself at a booth and glanced at the menu that a pert waitress handed her.

  “What can I get you to drink?” the pony-tailed girl asked.

  “Iced tea would be fine.”

  The girl studied her with curiosity. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “I used to be.”

  “You talk like you’re from the East.”

  “I suppose I lost my Midwest twang some years ago.”

  “We don’t get many people from the East around here.”

  “What’s good on the dinner menu?” Jen asked.

  “Well, Tim, that’s our cook, fixes a great meatloaf every Wednesday.”

  “I’m not much of a meat eater.” In New York, she ate fish or vegetarian meals most of the time and occasionally chicken or turkey, but rarely if ever beef.

  “We got a good chicken pot pie.”

  Jen shook her head. “What about a baked or broiled chicken breast?”

  “Well, sure. Guess you can get that.” The girl looked at her dubiously as if she’d asked for fried ants or ostrich stew.

  “Thank you. Can I get a tossed salad as well?”

  “What kind of dressing?”

  “Oil and vinegar on the side.”

  “Anything else?”

  “That’s it.” The waitress walked away to return shortly with her iced tea and a small bread basket. The bread smelled fresh and made her mouth water. She realized she’d forgotten to eat lunch.

  As she buttered a slice of the thick white bread, Jen observed Grant Coleman walk into the diner and seat himself at the counter. He still had a striking presence, a charisma that set him off. Who was she kidding? The man oozed testosterone. Two waitresses practically crossed swords to see which one of them could hand him the menu first. He laughed, noting their competition.

  “Now girls, I don’t need quite so much attention.”

  “Will you have your usual Wednesday dinner, Chief?”

  He gave a quick jerk of his head.

  “There’s garlic mashed potatoes tonight and fresh green beans.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks, Diane.” Diane, who was also her waitress, flashed the chief a toothy smile and flounced away.

  “Can I get you something cold to drink?” the second waitress asked in a voice so sweet it could have caused diabetes.

  “Just ice water, Ginny.”

  “Right away.” Ginny walked away with a wiggling movement that accentuated her rounded derriere. Could she be more obvious? Jen rolled her eyes.

  Those young waitresses, probably in their early twenties, seemed intent on flirting with the local law enforcement officer. Anyone could see he was older than they were, more like thirty-four or five, her own age. Then again, hadn’t she married a man several decades older than herself? Jen sighed.

  The police chief turned and studied the room. His gaze narrowed as it settled on her. Jen turned and looked away. But it was too late. She found him sliding into the seat opposite her.

  “Gone through any more red lights today?”

  Her mouth puckered as if she’d sucked on a lemon. “None I’d tell you about.”

  He surprised her by laughing, a deep, honest sound. “You look familiar,” he said.

  “I lived around here many years ago.”

  He looked interested. “I don’t remember any Stoddards in town.”

  “I was Jennifer Morrow in those days.”

  He gave her a steely stare and frowned. But then he extended his hand. She offered her own in return and he shook it, practically swallowing hers with his huge fist.

  “I’m Grant Coleman. You and I went to high school together. We shared an English class senior year.”

  She studied him. He’d changed over the years, just as she had. With those sunglasses gone, she could see his gray eyes. They were the same, perceptive and penetrating. He was a mature man now but just as handsome, well over six feet tall, with a muscular build.

  “I remember you very well,” she said. “I’m surprised you remember me at all.”

  He gave her another hard look. “So what brought you back to town?”

  She lowered her gaze. “You might remember my grandmother, Velma Pritchard.”

  He gave a nod. “I know she died not long ago.”

  “That was more than I knew until her attorney contacted me.” Jen told him about the terms of her grandmother’s will. He would probably have found out about it soon regardless, she reasoned. Small towns were that way.

  Diane returned with Jen’s iced tea and the ice water for the police chief. “Are you going to eat at this table?” she asked, addressing him.

  Jen flushed with embarrassment. From the look the waitress turned on her, Jen understood the young woman thought she was trying to pick up the police chief. He, in turn, aware of her discomfort, stood up.

  “No, I’ll be eating at the counter.” He turned back to Jen, picking up his glass from the table. “Good seeing you again after all this time. If you have any problems, drop by the station.” With that, he left her. His words were polite but his tone was as frosty as the ice water he was now drinking. Well, what had she expected? He’d been so popular back in high school and she’d been nobody. She was surprised he remembered her at all.

  For the rest of the time Jen spent in the diner, she avoided looking in Grant Coleman’s direction, although it wasn’t easy. Diane brought her dinner and it looked fine, but she wasn’t thinking about food.

  She couldn’t deny it; she’d had a tremendous crush on Grant Coleman back in high school. She’d never felt such a strong attraction to another male before or since, not even Bill. But that was young love for you, so intense. A very silly, immature feeling on her part. It was a good thing he’d never known what she felt for him, or how strong her attraction had been. He probably would have laughed.

  There was such a difference
between them. Grant came from a poor family. His father had a bad reputation as a ne’erdo-well. But Grant didn’t take after his dad. For one thing, he was an outstanding athlete. He became the quarterback of their high school football team and led them to the state title. He was a fine baseball player as well, serving as lead pitcher. His abilities didn’t stop there. Grant was an excellent student. The English class they shared was an honors class for college prep students. He’d been seated next to her, and when he looked over at her and smiled, Jen felt as if the sun rose and warmed her soul. Her heart filled with joy.

  Once, when she dropped her book, he’d picked it up for her. Their hands touched and she felt a surge of electricity. Their eyes met and she sensed they were somehow connected. But of course the attraction was obviously one-sided.

  She’d just been fooling herself. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome couldn’t really be interested in her. She was just a geek, a girl who had no real friends, who studied at the library and worked hard to attain high grades. He was outgoing and popular while she was an insecure loner. They had nothing in common.

  They’d probably never have spoken if Mr. Owens, their senior English teacher, hadn’t assigned a Shakespeare project to be done in pairs. They were to pick a scene and act it out, then explain it to the class. Hamlet provided many good scenes. Since she and Grant Coleman shared a table, they were assigned to work together.

  “Where do you want to work on our scene?” he asked.

  She nearly swooned. Just the sound of his deep voice was thrilling. “We could go to the library.”

  “We have to talk out loud. They won’t like it, probably kick us out.”

  Jen nodded and thought about it. She didn’t want to meet with Grant at his house or her own. She had no idea what his family was like. As for her mother, Sara Morrow could be very antagonistic.

  “We can meet at my grandmother’s house. She won’t mind. She likes visitors.”

  And so they’d rehearsed the scene between Hamlet and Ophelia at Grandma’s house. As predicted, Velma Pritchard loved the company and took to Grant. She was their audience and even applauded their efforts with enthusiasm. Jen appreciated her grandmother’s encouragement.

  “That was a wonderful performance,” Grandma said. “The two of you make a perfect couple.”

  Jen had blushed, but Grant winked at Grandma and smiled.

  Their presentation went well. Shy as she was, working with Grant gave Jen confidence. When the class ended, Grant walked her to the school cafeteria.

  “I was thinking, would you like to go to a movie with me on Saturday night?”

  Jen was thrilled and accepted eagerly. She gave Grant her home address.

  Saturday evening, she fussed with her appearance as she rarely bothered to do. She set her hair, tried on one outfit after another. She asked her mother to let her know when Grant arrived.

  “Stay in your room. I’ll call up to you,” her mother said. “A girl should never appear too eager. Boys don’t like it.”

  But the date didn’t happen. Grant never arrived. Jen cried into her pillow for most of Saturday night. Then she suffered through the worst Sunday of her life. Her father and mother had a quarrel the previous day, and he’d left Saturday afternoon not to come home.

  On Monday, she wanted to ask Grant what had happened. But then she saw him flirting with Cary Barnett, the head cheerleader, blond and beautiful. They made a gorgeous couple.

  When class began, he never looked her way. He even asked their teacher to change his seat to the back of the classroom. They never spoke to each other again. She felt so stupid and foolish. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. She was so ordinary. He could have any girl he wanted. It was about that time Jen realized she wasn’t meant to live the rest of her life in Bloomingvale.

  Going to college in the East opened up her life. She remained quiet and studious, but she also became independent and gained some level of self-assurance. No, she wanted nothing to do with Grant Coleman or his ilk, then or now. Men like him only broke a woman’s heart. Bill had been a fine man and a wonderful husband, perfect for her. He’d been mature, gentle and loving. She missed him terribly. Well, at least she had his son.

  Diane returned, breaking into her reflections. “Is the food not to your liking?”

  Jen glanced down at her plate. She’d hardly touched her meal. “It’s fine. I’m just not very hungry.”

  “Would you like me to package it for you to have later?”

  “Thank you. That’s a good idea.”

  As she waited for the waitress to return with her bag of food, Jen couldn’t help noticing how other people came over to Grant to shake his hand and say hello. He looked so good in his uniform, commanding and manly. She supposed some things never changed. Grant Coleman would always be a very attractive man, but someone she needed to stay away from.

  Chapter Five

  Jen didn’t want to go directly back to the motel. She decided to take a walk around Bloomingvale and look at what new shops there were on Main Street and Broad. She conceded that as small towns went, Bloomingvale had a certain charm. The town had an historic inn and a village green. The library hadn’t changed much either. Ivy still grew on the walls. That had been Jen’s favorite place as a child with its inviting window seats. Up the street there was a bookstore, not one of the big chain stores one found in malls, but a small, friendly-looking shop.

  She decided she would move from the motel to the Bloomingvale Inn, remembering how on winter days the inn served wine and cheese around a crackling fire. They also served pastries, coffee, tea and hot chocolate in the mornings. She would move into town until the house was ready. The cost would be more but it was a worthwhile indulgence.

  By the time she entered her motel room and got ready to go to sleep, Jen was feeling much better. Bloomingvale might be a quiet, modest heartland town of less than 20,000 residents, but a peaceful quality abided here that one didn’t find in a busy, bustling metropolis.

  The following morning, after a quick breakfast of coffee and buttered roll at a fast food place on the highway, Jen drove back to her grandmother’s house.

  Rob Coleman showed up promptly at ten a.m. which pleased her. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair worn on the long side. He walked with a noticeable limp. When he shook her hand, Jen noted the calluses.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said.

  “No problem. Mind if I look around before we talk?”

  “Please do.”

  She waited while he took a tour around the premises, poking here and there. When he finished he came back and joined her in the living room that had once been the parlor.

  “I guess it’s in bad shape?” She licked dry lips.

  He gave a quick nod. “This place will need a lot of work. Want me to write up an estimate for you?”

  “Yes, I would. Mr. Donne recommended you to me. He said you do good work.”

  “Well, I try.” He gave a modest shrug.

  “How long do you think it will take to make the house livable?”

  “That depends. If I work with a full crew, it won’t take long. But it will cost more.”

  She licked her lips thoughtfully, considering her options. “I’ll talk to Mr. Donne and get back to you.”

  He gave her a quick nod. “No problem.”

  “Mr. Coleman, are you related to the chief of police?”

  “I am. Grant’s my older brother.” He studied her expression. “Hope you won’t hold that against me.”

  She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Not at all. I was just wondering.”

  She studied the man. He was well-built, muscular like his brother, although dressed more casually in jeans, T-shirt and a baseball cap. Rob Coleman’s eyes were dark blue while Grant’s were a piercing gray and he had a lighter complexion. Both men appeared rugged and fit.

  “Don’t think that just because my name’s Rob I go around stealing from my clients.” The half-smile informed her that he was joking.
At least she hoped he was. “I won’t overcharge you. I live in this town, so my reputation’s important to me. I’ll give you value for your money. Otherwise the police chief would arrest me.”

  She was saved the discomfort of a reply when her cell phone vibrated and she lifted it from her pants pocket, stared at the name that appeared and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Excuse me. I need to take this call. Why don’t you work up that estimate in the meantime?”

  As the contractor set off with his clipboard, Jen took her friend’s call.

  “How’s it going?” Maryann asked, her voice breaking up ever so slightly.

  “Not bad all things considered. I do miss both you and Aaron though.” Jen licked her lips again which felt dry as dirt.

  “That’s what I’m phoning about. You won’t have to come back to New York to pick up Aaron. I’m going to be free to bring him to you. That is if you want me to come out there.” Jen heard a note of anxiety in Maryann’s voice. Now what was that about?

  “Want you? Of course, you’re welcome here. And I would love it if you could bring Aaron out. As a matter of fact, I’ve decided to move to Bloomingvale. Maybe you could pack our things and have them sent out here if it wouldn’t be too much trouble? I can arrange for the movers from this end.”

  “Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you? What happened? I thought you were only going out there to find out about your grandmother’s will?”

  “That’s the thing, if I want to inherit her estate, I have to live here for two years. I’ll explain the details when you and Aaron arrive.”

  “Okay, I’m dying to hear all about it. What a surprise.”

  “For me too,” she responded in a dry tone of voice. “Are you sure you want to come out here though?”

  There was a hesitation on the other end ire.

  “Maryann, are you still there?”

  “I’m here all right. They let me go.”