Your House or Mine?. Cynthia Thomason

was already on her way to Shady Grove. She was determined to meet with her aunt when Amelia might be most alert. Besides, the antics of Mr. Cuddles and the heart-thumping police work of Wade Murdock had kept her tossing and turning most of the night. She wasn’t sorry to be leaving last night’s escapades behind her to deal with today’s problems.

      Giving herself time for a second cup of coffee, Meg pulled into the parking lot of the Quick Mart and headed straight for the brewing machine. She’d just stirred sugar and cream into her cup when the door to the convenience store opened. “Oh, great,” she said under her breath when she realized who had entered. “Just who I need to see this morning.”

      Wade stopped at the counter and slid a sum of money toward the clerk. The two men maintained an animated conversation until Wade finally threw his hands in the air and accused the clerk of being unreasonable. “He’s an old man, Harvey,” Wade said.

      “He’s slippery as an eel,” the clerk responded, “and I’m holding you responsible if there’s any more trouble.”

      Wade strode away from the counter. “Fine. How’s the coffee this morning? Still taste like motor oil?” When he saw Meg, he tossed a final comment over his shoulder. “Don’t answer that, Harvey. There’s someone here who’ll give me an honest opinion.” He set a paper cup under the dispenser. “So, Miss Meg Hamilton, what do you think?”

      She leaned against the condiment counter and nodded toward a case with clear plastic doors. “The coffee’s fine, but since you’re a policeman, I figure you won’t be satisfied until you grab one of those donuts.”

      “Ah…another misconception that you civilians have about us cops.” He dumped three envelopes of sugar into his coffee and stirred vigorously. Then, despite his statement, he opened a door, took out a chocolate-covered Bavarian Cream and took a huge bite which he followed with a smug grin. “But, heck, who am I to destroy a legend?”

      Meg shook her head.

      “So how’s Mr. Cuddles this morning?” Wade asked after sucking a dab of filling from his index finger. It was a gesture Meg found oddly disturbing.

      “He’s like all males, I guess,” she said. “He left the house early to find a poor creature in the yard that he could lord his authority over.”

      Wade raised that finger to make a point. “Yeah, but he made you notice him, and that’s what counts.” He wiped his hands with a napkin and tossed the paper into the trash bin. “By the way, I’ll be at the house later after I do rounds. I’ll fix the window screen before I get started in the barn.”

      “If you want to,” Meg said with an aloofness that disguised her very strong desire to have the window secure.

      “Oh, I do,” Wade said. “If for no other reason than I need to establish my superiority over Mr. Cuddles.”

      Meg headed for the cash register to pay for her coffee. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

      Wade tossed a couple of bills on the counter and followed her outside. “Say, Meg, before you go, can you answer a question for me?”

      “Depends on the question.”

      “It’s about your Uncle Stewart.”

      Meg’s interest was immediately piqued. Even though he’d died when she was only twelve, she remembered her Uncle Stewie vividly. He was so handsome sitting astride his prized Arabian mare and cantering gracefully around the property. And he was completely unpredictable in his antics. Like her brother Jerry, he made everyone laugh. “What about him?” she said.

      “What did he do for a living?”

      “He was an entrepreneur.”

      Wade’s lips twitched as if he were trying to hide a smile. “That’s a little vague, isn’t it?”

      Meg had never thought so. Even when she hadn’t understood what the word meant, she’d always believed that it described her uncle perfectly. “Maybe, but that’s what Aunt Amelia always called him.”

      “So that’s how he made all his money, as an entrepreneur?”

      “I suppose so. Plus his parents had a little money. His father was a cattleman on Florida’s west coast. Stewie dabbled in land development in this area, and I heard that he got in on the ground floor of a couple of profitable local businesses.” She shrugged. “I think my uncle was lucky to be in the right places at the right times.”

      “Lucky, eh? I wonder if any of that Ashford luck rubbed off on you.”

      “What do you mean?”

      He lowered his sunglasses and peered at her with those interesting dark brown eyes. “Did you find the deed?”

      We’re back to that again. “You seem awfully worried about that document, Wade, and you should be. I’ll definitely find it because it definitely exists.” She got in her car. “And when I do, you’ll be the first to know.” She shut the door but rolled down her window. “But since you brought up our little predicament, I’ll tell you about an idea I had.”

      “I’m listening.”

      “I’m going to go through the boxes this afternoon with the idea of returning everything to the catalogue companies. My intention is to give you back the twenty thousand dollars.”

      He twirled the sunglasses while giving her a bland stare. “I don’t want it back.”

      “But that’s the perfect solution.”

      “Not to me it isn’t.”

      As if there weren’t a hundred houses to buy within a thirty-mile radius of hers! And to think Wade had called the store clerk unreasonable. “Look, Wade, I read the entire lease-option contract last night.”

      “Good.”

      “You only promised to pay a pittance of what the house and property are worth.”

      “You call ninety-eight thousand dollars a ‘pittance’?”

      “I certainly do. In Orlando…”

      He tapped the insignia on his shirt sleeve. “This is Mount Esther. That’s what I like about this little town. The cost of living is quite reasonable, especially to a transplant who’s used to New York prices.”

      “But even in Mount Esther a twelve-room house, a six-stall barn, and all that land—”

      “—in good condition would be worth about one hundred and fifty thousand,” he interrupted. He put on his glasses and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve already put a couple of thousand into the house, borrowed from the Mount Esther Savings and Loan, and you can see that a complete renovation will cost much more.”

      He’d borrowed money against her house? Meg gripped the steering wheel to control her temper. “If Ashford House is costing you so dearly, why not cut your losses, take the twenty thousand and go buy something that’s livable right now?”

      “Don’t want to. Ashford House is perfect for my family. It’s a dream we can work on together.”

      It’s my dream, too, damn it, Meg thought. My dream first.

      “And besides,” he continued, “I don’t think you’ll get more than a small percentage of the twenty thousand back. Most of the items have been unpacked and put to use in the house. And I’ve read some of the labels on the boxes. They say a full refund is available within seven days. That time limit has elapsed. And since most of the purchases were made without the security of a credit card…”

      “Enough.” Meg rolled her window up and jerked the gearshift into reverse.

      Wade waved at her as she backed out of the parking space. “See you later, Meg,” he hollered.

      She veered onto the road but resisted the urge to stomp on the gas pedal. With her luck, Murdock would race after her, lights flashing