He took the stairway to the main floor. The dark wood was old and worn, but polished until it gleamed. The living area held comfortable furniture and walls filled with shelves packed with books.
Clean, tidy and spotless like the other rooms. He’d been impressed with Emily before, but her penchant for neatness added to the appeal.
The locks were of the same flimsy nature as the upper floors, and he didn’t like that one bit. Frowning to himself, he stepped into the kitchen and climbed up on a chair to look at the beam holding the pot rack. He spotted roughly patched holes, likely where it hung before and had been moved over a few inches. Archer saw nothing to suggest Withrow caused the rack to fall, but then with the original holes patched, Archer didn’t think he would. He pulled hard on the rack just to be sure it was securely fastened, and once he was satisfied, he finished his inspection before stepping onto the porch, where Emily gazed over the property, a clipboard in hand.
A cool, soft breeze played over his skin. The temperature in the secluded location was far cooler than the city and the steaming-hot grocery store. She’d tidied up a bit, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, giving her a girl-next-door look. She seemed so sweet and innocent, so far removed from the catty socialites he’d met when he’d lived in New York. Maybe that’s why she sparked his interest.
She pointed at a large truck in the driveway. “The workers just got here with the bouncy house and other games. Would you mind overseeing the setup to make sure they put them in the right location?”
“Sure, tell me where they go and I’m all over it.”
She pulled a very detailed map from her clipboard.
He studied it. “When do you need these ready to go?”
“An hour.”
“Okay, you got it.” He set an alarm on his watch.
“My timing isn’t that precise.”
“Time is money, you know,” he said, issuing one of his favorite quotes. “You can count on me to have it all ready within an hour.”
She eyed him for a few seconds. “Let me know if you have any issues.”
She jogged down the stairs, her ponytail bouncing. Made her look carefree, but with her struggle to keep the B and B afloat and the incident this afternoon, she was clearly anything but.
He got that. If she was right about this Stan guy, she had to be worried about another attack. At least Archer was concerned, and only one way to put it out of his head. A visit to Stan Fannon, which he would do first thing in the morning.
The afternoon flew by and Emily couldn’t believe she’d managed to get everything organized for the small carnival. She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Archer. He pitched in wherever needed, and that included the last item on her list, gathering eggs from the coop so she could sell them. She’d built rollout nest boxes that would allow him simply to open the back to retrieve eggs without entering the coop or sticking his hand under a chicken, but he still puckered his lips as he started gathering.
She forced her mind from those lips that she suspected had kissed many women and went over her list one more time. She realized she hadn’t seen Birdie for some time so she went to check on her and found her in the kitchen eating a large bowl of cereal.
Emily watched her aunt from the door for a few moments. She had a mop of wild, curly hair that she’d clipped up in the back, leaving tendrils sticking out in every direction. She’d changed into striped capris and a short-sleeved blue T-shirt much more in keeping with the warm temps.
She suddenly looked up and noticed Emily. The smile Emily treasured slid across Birdie’s face and brought tears to Emily’s eyes. She had to cherish each and every one of these smiles, as there were fewer and fewer of them as time passed.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said, her eyes clear and present in the moment.
Emily’s heart lifted at the return of her aunt. “The fund-raiser is all set up. Why don’t you come out and have some fun for a change?”
“I’m way too tired to attend.” She yawned and stretched. “I’m going to finish up my cereal and go to bed.”
Concerned, Emily stepped inside. “You’re not feeling ill are you?”
Birdie shook her head, her curls springing in every direction. “Stop worrying about me. Go enjoy the event you worked so hard to prepare, and I’ll be fine.”
“We do have a nice crowd building out there. I’m sure we’ll raise at least enough money for another loan payment.”
Birdie frowned and pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry I put you in this position.”
“It’s not your fault, and I won’t have you worrying about it.” Emily squeezed her aunt’s shoulders. “I’ll save some of the goodies for you so you can have them for lunch tomorrow.”
Birdie clutched Emily’s hand, as tears started to glisten in her own eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Memories of walking through the same back door with a small suitcase and a broken heart washed over Emily. More tears threatened, but she forced them back and smiled. “Then we’re even. I had the same feeling many years ago when I came to live with you. Who knows what would have happened to me without your love and support. Now it’s my turn to give back.”
“Thank you for being so gracious.” Birdie gave Emily’s hand a kiss then released it. “Now scoot.”
Emily didn’t move. She wanted to stay. To enjoy the time when Birdie’s memory was so clear. To just bask in her aunt’s presence and enjoy the only person who’d loved her unconditionally. How she was going to miss the warmth, the affection when Birdie’s memory had been fully eclipsed.
She grabbed Birdie in a hug and held tight.
“Now, now,” Birdie cooed. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
No, it wouldn’t. Birdie would forget everything, even basic bodily functions, and Emily would be all alone unless she did something about it. But what could she do? Men were off-limits. She’d been raised in a highly dysfunctional and chaotic home. An alcoholic father who caroused and had affairs. A mother who paid him back with affairs of her own and didn’t bother to hide them. They fought all the time. Bickering. Snapping. Mean, ugly fights.
When the arguing got brutal, Emily had learned to take control of her own life. To go to the library or when it was closed to take a stroll through the park. Then her father took off and when Emily was thirteen, her mother chose a man who didn’t want children. So her mother left Emily on Birdie’s doorstep. Life might have been tough and her mother less than the parent Emily had wanted, but she was her mother and Emily had grieved her leaving like a death in the family.
Emily vowed then and there that she would never be hurt again. And to make sure that didn’t happen, she took control of everything. Of herself. Her surroundings. And she never...never...gave her heart to a man as her mother had done so many times.
Better to live alone as Birdie had all of her life. It had worked so far, and Emily was happier than her mother and father ever were. She wasn’t about to change that now. Especially for a man whose smile reminded her of all the men her mother readily gave in to.
Emily kissed Birdie’s papery cheek and went back outside just in time to see Archer come up the hill with a full basket of eggs. They were basically clean but had a few feathers and bits of shavings on them.
Not that Archer noticed. He had that same puckered expression lingering on