“That’s good, Meggie. You must be real happy. He doesn’t belong in Hartford.”
“I’m glad you agree, Tom. And I’m calling for another reason, too.”
He should have known there would be a hitch.
“We’re having a barbecue on the long weekend. I expect you to be there. Your parents and Bryce and Mary have already said they’re coming. It’s time to let bygones be bygones. For both of you. There’s nothing left to fight over.”
Tom ran his free hand over his face. No one seemed to understand that there was more to the situation than two cousins fighting over the same woman.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. The last time…” He paused, unsure of how much to say. It wasn’t the fight he couldn’t let go of, it was the grief. She was his cousin’s wife, yet Josh wasn’t the only one mourning. He had been grieving too, only he had never been able to show it. He hadn’t felt entitled to his grief.
“The last time you both were stupid. You’re cousins. You have to start somewhere. And if either one of you starts any trouble, I’ll kick your asses. You know I can do it.”
Aunt Meggie had tanned his backside enough when he and Josh had been boys that he knew she meant it. The same way his mom would say the exact same thing to Josh. The two sisters had raised their boys with tough but loving hands.
He respected her far too much to let her down now. “I’ll be there. On my best behavior, promise.”
“You could always bring your hot wings as a peace offering.”
He laughed. “You’re pushing it, Aunt
Meggie.”
“I know.” The line went quiet for a minute, as if she were deciding on her next words. “He needs you, Tom. He needs all of us right now.”
Tom’s heart thumped. He wanted to ask, What about me? What about what I need? But he had no right. Erin hadn’t been his wife. And through the bitterness was another tangle of emotion. He and Bryce and Josh—they’d all been like brothers. He’d missed his cousin, too. Yet he knew it would never be the same between them again.
“Hot wings it is.”
“Good. I’ll let you go now. Hope I didn’t keep you from anything important.”
“Another canceled job is all. Looks like Jess’s decking will be getting my full attention.”
“Oh! That reminds me. I was down at the grocery store this afternoon. Gloria told me that Bill at the service station said that the new owner’s finally showed up at the Foster place. Marian’s heir, and with Nova Scotia license plates.”
Tom sat up straighter in his chair. The Foster mansion. For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to get inside and get another good look at the old monstrosity. It was well over a hundred and fifty years old, and he’d bet any money it was gorgeous. They just didn’t build them like that anymore. But it had been closed up since Marian had taken ill. Now that it was in new hands …
He recognized an opportunity when it hit him in the face. He enjoyed his work as a contractor, but the idea of restoring an old place like that … it wasn’t work. It was a privilege.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he said casually, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. “I’ll have to pop in one of these days.” One of these days, hell. He’d be up there within the hour.
“See you at the barbecue, Tom,” Meggie answered.
“Bye.”
He hung up the phone and stared at it for a minute. Josh, home. Family gathering. Recipe for disaster. But the house up on Blackberry Hill?
He pushed his chair back and grabbed his keys. This was his dream project. First thing he had to do was meet the new owner and get inside. Word would spread fast and he didn’t want another contractor swooping in and stealing the chance away from him. There was no one else in the area as qualified for the job as he was.
It was just the thing he needed to keep his mind occupied. Idle hands meant an idle mind.
And with Josh coming home, he needed to find a way to forget about Erin. For good. For all their sakes.
CHAPTER 2
Whatever Abby had expected, it was not the massive Georgian-style home that greeted her at the end of the lane. White and imposing, it was both majestic and intimidating. With the unpruned shrubs around the yard and a tangle of ivy grown over several of the windows, Abby couldn’t shake the idea that the house looked a bit, well, eerie.
Slamming her car door behind her, Abby started up the uneven pathway to the front porch. As she got closer she could see the chipped paint on the trim and rungs missing in the railing that ran between the two scarred pillars of the veranda.