“I’ll take my chances. Now, I’ll need to know some about the family. I plan to arrive as the Grayson family’s long-lost relative, their very rich relative. Do you think I might have a wardrobe, something in green silk to match my eyes?”
Pauline smiled. “I think something might be arranged. There are rules, though. What has happened stands. You cannot change what Nellie has already wished.”
“I don’t plan to disturb her family’s comfort,” Berni said with a smile. “They’ll be the most comfortable family in America.”
“And three days,” Pauline said. “That’s all the time you have.”
“I won my second husband in three days, and I didn’t resort to magic. How about a hat with an ostrich plume? And how about shoes with lots of buttons?”
“I hope you do this well,” Pauline said softly.
“I always get what I want. Terel doesn’t stand a chance against me.”
Pauline sighed. “All right, then, come along. We’ll embed you in the memory of the Graysons so they have some knowledge of Aunt Berni, then we’ll send you down.”
“And clothes,” Berni said. “Don’t forget clothes. How about an amber necklace?”
“You will have all the clothes you want. I hope I don’t regret this—and, more importantly, that Nellie doesn’t regret this.”
“Don’t worry. When it comes to being a bitch, I wrote the book.”
“That’s a book I don’t want to read,” Pauline muttered as she started walking.
Chandler, Colorado
1896
“How rich?” Terel asked, biting into one of Nellie’s crispy apple tarts.
“Very wealthy,” Charles said, putting down the letter. “And she has no other relatives besides us. It’s my belief that she wants to choose one of you as her heiress.”
“One of us?” Terel asked, glancing sideways at Nellie, who was sitting at the far end of the dining table. As usual, Nellie wasn’t paying attention. Not that Nellie was ever a barrel of laughs, but in the last two days, since that man had come storming into the house, Nellie had been a veritable gloom factory. “Why just one of us?”
“She says she doesn’t want her fortune divided. She wants it kept intact after her death, so I take that to mean she plans to leave it all to just one of you.”
“Mmm,” Terel said thoughtfully. “I do wish you’d told us of her visit before the day of her arrival.”
“I can’t think why I didn’t,” Charles said, genuinely puzzled. “I’m sure I knew about the visit, but I don’t know why I never said anything.”
“Oh, well,” Terel said, licking her fingers, “I shall do my best to take car
e of her. Nellie, you had best stay in the kitchen and cook. Your wonderful cooking will please Aunt Berni, I’m sure.”
Nellie didn’t bother to reply. She pushed the food about on her plate. For once in her life she wasn’t hungry. Being hungry meant that you were alive, and right now Nellie didn’t feel very alive.
Terel turned to Nellie and studied her. Yes, it would be much better to keep Nellie away from this rich relative. Terel wouldn’t have worried about the fat Nellie engendering love, but this new Nellie, slim, beautiful, unconsciously graceful, caused people to look at her twice. For the life of her Terel couldn’t figure out what about Nellie caused people to care so much about her. Miss Emily, the nosy old hag, constantly asked after Nellie, as did whole churches full of people. Terel assumed it had to do with the way Nellie kept giving their food away to the grubby kids of Chandler. No one ever thought to thank their father for paying for the food, nor did they thank Terel for having to do without because Nellie spent their family’s money on other people. No, everyone just saw Nellie playing Lady Bountiful.
Now Nellie looked like the heroine of a tragic play, with her big eyes full of misery. Everyone who saw her seemed to be filled with pity for her. But why? Terel wondered. She’d come close to marrying a very rich man—not that Nellie deserved him—and in the end, she’d done the right thing by staying with her family, so why was she trying to make everyone else feel miserable? Terel knew Nellie’s moroseness was meant to punish her, Terel, but no one else seemed to realize that. That stupid Mae Sullivan said yesterday that she felt almost like telling Nellie the truth about Mr. Montgomery, that he hadn’t kissed any other woman in Chandler. “Except me,” Terel had said, and she turned on her heel and walked away.
Why were people such fools? Terel wondered. Why couldn’t they see that Nellie was so much better off with her family? Who knew what this man Montgomery was like? Maybe he was abusive to women. Maybe he drank. Maybe he was an impostor and not really rich at all. Maybe Terel had saved Nellie from a fate worse than death.
Anyway, Terel thought, forget about the man; there was Aunt Berni to think about. Terel thought she would make an excellent heiress. Paris, Rome, San Francisco, she thought. Furs, jewels, houses.
She looked again at Nellie. She’d better keep this rich aunt away from Nellie, in case she was one of those do-gooders who would fall for Nellie’s sad face. Terel didn’t mean to lose a fortune just because Nellie was temporarily a little upset.
“I think I’ll make up some menus,” Terel said thoughtfully. “We mustn’t skimp while Aunt Berni is here.” She smiled at Nellie, thinking of the complicated dishes she’d order. Nellie wouldn’t get out of the kitchen for a week, and as Aunt Berni’s visit was only going to be for three days…
Nellie was in the kitchen when she heard the commotion of her aunt arriving. She didn’t go out to greet her because both her father and Terel were there. She heard her father’s voice raised and the sound of men grunting as they carried trunks up the stairs. After a half hour or so Nellie prepared a tray with a mug of hot cider and a plate of Christmas cookies to take to her aunt. Just as she was leaving the kitchen Terel burst in.