Donna Alward [Jewell Cove 01] The House on Blackberry Hill (e

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.“That’s not remotely funny,” he said shortly.He took a step forward and she felt a little thrill as she looked up into his rugged face.He was over six feet tall and from the looks of his arms, he was solid muscle.She swallowed.Lumberjack man was very … virile.She caught her breath as he towered over her.Funny how she didn’t feel as threatened as she should by his size and proximity.“The condition of this place is a travesty,” he admitted.“But it’s also town history and needs to be preserved, not knocked down.What are you planning to do with it, then? Don’t tell me you’re seriously going to tear it down.Because I’ll have something to say about that.”He was dead serious and looked genuinely upset.It was just a house, albeit a magnificent one.She thought back for a minute to the walls of books in the library.Well, maybe not just a house, but why on earth would Tom Arseneault take it so personally?“What’s it to you? Last I checked it was my name on the deed.And I don’t recall my lawyer mentioning any Arseneault having a claim to the property.”“Are you serious? Have you been inside yet?” His eyebrows lifted so that they nearly touched the black curl of hair that dropped over his forehead.“In its heyday, this house was the center gem of this town.The old gossips still talk about the Roaring Twenties parties that were held here before they were ever born.Jed Foster imported most of the furniture from his journeys around the globe.”The sheer volume of antiques would fetch a pretty penny at an estate auction, wouldn’t they? But she didn’t think it wise to say that out loud right now.This Mr.Arseneault seemed to take the house quite to heart.“I haven’t had time to examine everything properly.”He took another step forward, encroaching on her space.“There are even rumors about it being haunted since the war, at least if the old-timers down at Breezes Café are to be believed.The mansion is a town icon.”She took a step back, alarmed by his assertion of it being haunted, especially after her strange sensations at the cellar door and stairs.“If it’s such a gem, then why did it ever fall into such disrepair?”He shrugged.“Marian Foster turned it into a home for unwed mothers, and then she lived in it alone for years.Rumor has it she spent a fortune maintaining it before closing it up when she could no longer care for herself.”“How long ago?”“Ten years, easy.It’s stayed vacant since then as Marian insisted that it remain untouched.Some say she was a little…” He paused, searching for the right word.“Dementia, probably,” he said, quieter now.“Not crazy.Just not in the same reality, you know?”“And now she’s left it to me.”“Seems that way.” The tone of his voice made it sound like the fact only confirmed her aunt’s precarious state of mind.She met his gaze honestly.“Believe me, I’m just as confused as you are.I never met the woman.In fact, my grandmother Iris, Marian’s sister, never even mentioned having a sister.The Fosters never saw fit to give her a red cent when she was alive, so leaving it to me now is confusing to say the least.I didn’t even know Gram came from money.God knows we could have used a bit of it from time to time.”“You could be the one to come in and restore the house.Bring her back to her former glory.I’m pretty sure her bones are sound.She just needs sprucing up…”“With your help, of course.” She injected a fair dose of sarcasm into the words.It didn’t escape her notice that he referred to the house as “her.” Good grief.“Come here,” he commanded.Tom reached out and gripped her wrist, tugging her through the still open door and into the foyer.She shook his hand off.“What are you doing?” She put her fingers on the skin he’d touched.His hands were so big his fingers had dwarfed her tiny wrist.What was worse, she’d found it exciting, being tugged along in his wake.She hadn’t exactly felt threatened.She’d felt … exhilarated.That was more surprising than anything else that had happened today, and that was saying a lot.Their gazes clashed and she felt the strange swirling again.There was something in the dark depths of his eyes, some sort of awareness that made her breath catch in her throat.Finally he stepped forward, picking up her hand in a gentle way that sent her heart knocking against her ribs.“Trust me, okay?”She watched, fascinated, as Tom’s lips formed a sexy half-smile that did nothing to remove the heat in his gaze.With her hand cradled in his, Abby had the sensation of being enveloped—completely and utterly.It wasn’t just his size, but the sense of the muscled physique beneath the cotton shirt and his control over it.All that manual labor had honed him into a strong specimen of manhood, but there was something honest about him as well.And standing there in the foyer of her newly inherited home, Abby suddenly realized that she did trust him … to a point.She may not know Tom Arseneault but she knew he wouldn’t harm her.“We really did get off on the wrong foot,” he continued, as the moment stretched out.“Pun intended?” she asked, softening when his smile grew.Their gazes met for a few seconds more while things between them seemed to settle.“All right,” she granted softly, removing her hand from his and looking around the room.“Now, if you’d care to explain what you mean without hauling me from pillar to post, I’ll listen.”“I haven’t heard that particular tone since I was in fifth grade and was caught running through the school library by Miss Haines.”“Apparently the lesson bore repeating.What did you want to show me?”Something—amusement, respect, perhaps a combination of the two—gleamed in his eyes.“All right.For starters, look at this.” He reached behind her and ran his fingers over the dark wood of a grandfather clock.“This clock is over a hundred and fifty years old.”Abby dutifully looked and tried to ignore the way his long, capable fingers caressed the dusty wood.Instead she focused on the clock face.She wondered what had been happening at the house at the time that the hands had stopped moving.They sat precisely at 3:26.“It doesn’t work.”“Maybe it can be fixed.Even if it never keeps time again, the actual construction is in fantastic shape.” He gestured to the right, to the dining room.“And this room.It’s full of antiques.Look at the mantels on the fireplaces—all the wood trim is original to the house.The dining table and chairs were shipped from South America to Captain Foster himself, made from mahogany out of the Amazon.”“How do you know that?”“Everyone knows that.” He regarded her curiously.“You really don’t know anything about the house, do you?”Tom did, apparently.Her annoyance at her own ignorance warred with a very real curiosity to listen to what he knew.“Did you think I was lying?”“Well, no, but…”“Scout’s honor.” She lifted two fingers.“I never knew anything about this side of the family.Nothing about the house, nothing about the money, nothing about Marian.My grandmother never spoke of it.”Silence filled the hall.“Seriously?”“Seriously.It appears the two sides of the family were completely estranged.”“Why?”She shrugged.“I wish I knew.I’d like to find out, though.It makes no sense that there’s a whole history I never knew about.A whole family.” And it hurt that the person she’d trusted most hadn’t trusted her in return.He paused.“I don’t know what to tell you.There might be a few old-timers left who could help, if you really want to know [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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