“I hate to admit this, but I actually agree with Bimbette here,” Kendra said to Charlie. Ignoring Quinn’s glare, she continued, “We need this entire house cleaned from top to bottom, and I’d rather not get buried alive if it collapses, so we need to have someone secure the frame and foundation. And then I need to contact the office—”
Charlie interrupted her, “We’re not allowed to use our personal bank accounts, call friends or boyfriends, or to work—”
Kendra’s eyes turned cold, and Charlie fought to hold her gaze. Kendra could be intimidating when she wanted to be, and she usually wanted to be. “You don’t seriously expect us to live by the draconian conditions of the will?”
“We agreed,” Charlie replied, simply.
“I can’t disappear from my job for two weeks, Charlie,” Kendra snarled.
“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to come,” Charlie said, quietly. She focused on the dust bunnies in the corners of the room and said, “If we’re going to live here for the next two weeks, we need to clean this house. We also need food, besides coffee.”
“I should have known you would be Ms. Rules,” Kendra said in a tone that told Charlie she was not complimenting her.
“Stop being a baby, Kendra,” Quinn finally chimed in. “Charlie’s right. We agreed to do this Grandpa’s way. And that means no cleaning ladies, no Internet and no contact with our real lives. No one in our lives or in this town is supposed to know the reason we’re here. And, considering the fact that this town benefits if we fail, we should definitely stick to the strict-confidence policy.”
Charlie stared at Quinn surprised. She had never heard Quinn sound so forceful or serious. Then Quinn added, with a giggle, “Besides, how will I be able to ask the cowboy to show me his barn if I’m stuck out here?”
Charlie choked on her coffee, but neither woman noticed as they squared off like two old-time cowboys.
“He’s mine, Quinn. I saw him first,” Kendra retorted angrily.
“Whoever saw him first won’t matter once I work the Quinn Sibley magic on him,” Quinn challenged.
Kendra laughed, while Charlie finally was able to swallow unimpeded. Kendra crossed the kitchen to stand in front of Quinn.
“Are you actually considering going head-to-head with me on the cowboy?” Kendra asked Quinn, one finely arched eyebrow raised in disbelief.
“If you’re not too scared to go head-to-head with me,” Quinn responded, mirroring Kendra’s expression.
Kendra shook her head, obviously amused. “Well, this should add some excitement to our time here. You’re on, Quinn. We both go for the cowboy and he decides.”
“He has a name,” Charlie blurted out, before she could stop herself. Her sisters turned to her and Charlie averted her gaze when she saw their identical curious expressions. She poured herself another cup of coffee, hoping her sisters didn’t notice her trembling hands. “I just… You’re both being childish. He’s not some toy or a— He’s a person.”
Kendra tilted her head to one side and studied Charlie. “You can try for Graham, too, Charlie,” she finally said, placing emphasis on his name.
Charlie felt her face burn in embarrassment, while Quinn grinned and bobbed her head excitedly. Charlie had spent most of the previous sleepless night dreaming about Graham. She still wanted to tie him to a bed and just look at him for an hour, but now it seemed gross that that Kendra and Quinn obviously had the same feelings.
Charlie squared her shoulders and said, “I won’t try for him, like he’s some kind of…of carnival prize.”
Kendra shrugged then said, “All right, but I don’t want to hear your mouth. There was nothing in Max’s will about not trying to make things a little exciting around here. Give me a few minutes and we’ll head into town and find something to clean the house with.”
Quinn looked down at her spotless white dress then back at Charlie. “I’m going to get really dirty today, aren’t I?”
Charlie ignored Quinn and looked down at her nightgown. She needed to shower, brush her teeth and get dressed, but then there was her refusal to share the shower with the fungus growing at the bottom.
“You’re right, Quinn. We’re going to get really dirty, so there’s hardly any use changing clothes,” Charlie said, with a relieved sigh.
She had been saved once more.
It was one of those perfect summer days that only exist in Smalltown, U.S.A. Cloudless blue skies, birds chirping in the distance, children running down the sidewalks and young men standing at the town water fountain watching young women walk past. If Graham wasn’t dead-set on leaving all of it as soon as possible, he would be appreciating this scene right now.
Instead, Graham ignored the scene around him and steered his truck to a stop in front of the town’s all-purpose store. One thing that Graham could admit to feeling grateful about was that there was always convenient parking downtown. He got out of the truck then slapped on a pair of headphones. The soothing sound of a cultured voice speaking Japanese filled his ears.
His Japanese had gotten rusty in the six months he had spent in Sibleyville. He had never been that good to begin with, but if there was one thing Graham could say about Sibleyville, the small-town afforded him plenty of time to practice, when he wasn’t working.
“Afternoon, Graham,” Velma called out from the entrance of her clothing boutique.
“Konnichiwa,” Graham greeted in return, with a slight bow.
“Ogenki-desu-ka?” Velma returned.
Graham stopped in mid-stride, took off the headphones and gaped at the older woman. Velma speaking Japanese was about as likely as…as Graham speaking Japanese.
Velma winked at him then turned back into her boutique. Graham laughed to himself and shook his head.
“Don’t you have anything better to do, besides stand in the middle of the street, grinning like a fool?”
Graham grinned at the sound of Wyatt Granger’s voice. Graham had known Wyatt almost as long as he had known himself. Their families had been the only black people in Sibleyville, when the two had been growing up. And it had remained that way until the arrival of the Sibley sisters, who had increased the African-American population in town by a full thirty percent.
“What are you doing out and about? Business slow as usual at the funeral home?” Graham asked then winced when he noticed Wyatt’s honey-brown skin turn a light shade of gray at the mention of anything related to his family’s funeral parlor.
The Grangers had been Sibleyville’s only morticians for the last three generations, and Graham had a feeling that Wyatt would have put an end to the family business if he could have. But Wyatt’s father had died five years ago, and his mother had never recovered from her husband’s death, which had left Wyatt to continue the family business.
“No one has died in Sibleyville since Ted Gravis. Business is slow,” Wyatt replied.
“I hear Ron Walker had a severe case of heartburn last night,” Charlie said then winced again when Wyatt narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m just trying to help you out.”
“That’s real funny, Graham,” Wyatt responded dryly.
“I just don’t want you to pass out again when someone asks you about the embalming process.”
Wyatt’s jaw twitched before he protested through clenched teeth, “I did not pass out. I told you, I just hadn’t had a lot to eat that night and my blood sugar was low and then the heat—”
Graham patted Wyatt on the shoulder and said, somberly, “Your secret is safe with me, Wyatt.”
“What