Read Dearest Enemy Online

Authors: Renee Simons

Dearest Enemy (6 page)

She walked several more yards before the slope took a sharp dip. The air had turned heavy and stale, with a faintly unpleasant odor she couldn't place but which gave her a headache. The time had come to turn back. Further exploration would have to wait for another time. Reversing direction, she climbed back up the incline and headed for the entrance.

The one person she would have preferred not to see waited for her in the gathering dusk. At the sight of the sheriff's expression of disapproval, Callie took a deep breath to prepare
herself
.
For his remarks, of course.
What else?

"Good afternoon, Sheriff."

"Evening, Miss Patterson." He nodded toward the mine.
“Thought I told you to stay out of there.”

"Were you giving me an order?"

He raised one eyebrow but asked only, "So what did you find?"

She would need some time to figure that out. "Not much," she said with a shrug. "I didn't get very far."

"Do us all a favor and stay out of there."

Callie nodded as she wondered who
the
us
was, and why
we
were being so cautious. And what was going on in a supposedly played-out gold mine?

"C'mon," he said. "I'll walk you back."

The sun had disappeared behind the surrounding hills, leaving a brilliant orange glow that bathed the scene in a golden patina. Concentrating on the beauty of the moment helped her ignore the sheriff’s ability to unnerve her with a quiet, sure maleness that awoke unbidden responses.

He touches you even when he doesn't
.... She sighed. He wasn’t supposed to get to her, only she to him. Wasn’t that what Grandmother wanted? A little payback for whatever grave insult had left her with painful memories? Thank goodness the dear woman hadn’t known about the problems with the land and the mine, which would have added new insult to the old injury she’d refused to talk about.

A cool breeze cut into her thoughts and fanned her cheek. She welcomed the respite and the interruption that helped her focus on the first step of her plan to secure the land.

"Who decides about the lease?" she asked.

"My father."

"I'd like to meet with him."

"That's easy enough to arrange," Luc said. "You have any free time tomorrow?"

She hadn't expected him to be so cooperative. "I can find as much time as is necessary."

When they reached The Mansion, Callie rested one foot on the bottom step, waiting for his next words.

"Good. We can meet here and drive out to my parents' place together. That okay with you?"

"What time?"

Luc shrugged. "How's ten a.m. sound?"

"It sounds fine. If you get here a little early, I'll make you some instant coffee and toast an English muffin."

"Here?” He looked up at the building.
“How?
Nothing works inside."

"Almost nothing.
But the power's been turned on and the well's pumping water. I can make do for a while."

"Without a furnace or hot water heater, you'll really be roughing it."

She glanced around as he had done. "This is my house, my family's home. I'd rather rough it here than be comfortable in a hotel." She turned back in time to catch a fleeting expression of uncertainty in his eyes.

He touched the brim of his Stetson. "I'll see you in the morning."

Callie watched him walk to his vehicle, noting his long graceful stride.
As he climbed inside, a strong thigh flexed beneath the summer-weight twill of his beige uniform.
Nice.
She dismissed the thought before it had a chance to take hold and considered instead the doubt that had shown on his face.

Had her brief emotional lapse broken through to him? Maybe letting some of her feelings show would have better results with this man than the cool detachment she usually tried to maintain during negotiations and which she’d been so bad at lately. "We'll just have to see what works with the sheriff."

That evening as she read from her favorite mystery writer’s latest release, she heard boards creak on the veranda. By the time she flicked on the outside light and opened the door, whoever or whatever it was had gone.

“Some critter or other,” she muttered. When everything went quiet and stayed that way, she decided the story had just fired up her imagination.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Although Grandmother Lucy would have disapproved, again, Callie liked Fernando Moreno immediately. Tall and lean, almost to the point of being gaunt, with patrician features and white hair lifting back from his high forehead, he possessed the courtliness of a Spanish grandee.

"You are most surely Lucinda's granddaughter."

"There's a resemblance," she said.

"More than that.
You are as I remember her when she left."

She detected
a warmth
in the old man's gaze she suspected had more to do with his memories of Lucinda than the person of her granddaughter. Nor did his response jibe with anything Grandmother had told her about him.

"I hope you can find time to tell me something of those days. What her life here was like."

Fernando nodded. "I shall tell you what I can. I am at your disposal and my home is yours any time you wish to visit."

Callie followed the movement of his head as he glanced around the inner courtyard of the Spanish colonial house. His gaze traveled from one grouping of plants in their terra cotta pots to another, finally appearing to settle on a small blue and yellow tiled fountain at the center of which stood a naked cherub with outstretched arms.

Missing tiles and the battered appearance of the little statue suggested the fountain could use refurbishing. The stucco on the house needed renewing at the corners and near the foundations, where the adobe blocks showed through. The house, too, seemed in need of care.

After a moment or two Fernando turned back to Callie. "My son told you I wanted to meet you?"

She glanced at Luc before speaking. He'd pulled his hat low over his forehead, shading his eyes and making it impossible to gauge his expression.

"I guess the desire for a meeting was mutual. I wanted to talk to you about The Mansion.
More precisely, about the land."

"Ah, yes," Fernando said. "We are faced with something of a dilemma, are we not?"

 
"Luc tells me you wrote grandmother about not renewing the lease. If she got the notice, she never told me. And I didn't find it when I cleaned out her house in St. Louis prior to selling." She leaned forward in the iron garden chair. "Mr. Moreno, we’ve been planning this restoration since I was sixteen. I sold my business and my condo.
Lined up an architect, a contractor and a team of decorators.
And sank over a hundred thousand dollars into redeeming the furnishings from various owners.
All because we believed the land and the house would be waiting for me to bring them to life again.” She lifted her hand, palm up. "This project means the world to me. Please reconsider your decision."

Fernando looked around again and motioned with his right hand to take in the courtyard and the two story building with its upper balcony. "This house grew from a single room built by my ancestors some three hundred years ago. So I understand how important The Mansion must be to you. But there are plans other than yours being contemplated, plans just as long-standing, perhaps older, which affect an entire community."

"The restoration will affect the community as well. It can help revitalize the area, bringing in tourists and money."

"You don't know it will," Luc interjected.

"And you can't be sure it won't." She glared at him. "It deserves a chance. I'm asking for an opportunity to try."

She turned to the elder Moreno. "What is happening here that won't allow room for my project?" She hoped Fernando would disclose something about the mine, but he remained silent. "I need one year to complete the restoration,” she continued, “and to campaign for the contributing artists and the tourists.
A second to build a following.
And if the reception is positive I'll request an option for a third year to see if we can realize a profit and make the place self-sustaining."

Fernando leaned forward in his chair. Luc glanced at his father for a moment before turning back to Callie. He removed his hat finally and raked his fingers through his hair. His features remained expressionless, except for an angry snap in his dark eyes. She took a breath and continued, voicing the unthinkable. "If I can't make the project work after the third year, I'll dispose of the furnishings and leave the building for you to demolish."

"Why would you go to all that effort and expense for only three years?" Luc asked. “Less, if our other plans work out.”

Callie turned to him and his puzzled expression. "That isn't my choice. I came here to build something that would last, if not another ninety-nine years, then at least a decade or two. Your family and the town fathers are placing the limits."

 
I'd settle for three, she thought. Three years to satisfy the terms of Grandmother's will and her wish to taunt the Morenos with her granddaughter’s presence. Guaranteed
a sizable
cash bequest if she stayed in the house for at least that length of time, Callie could then move on. The Morenos and Mercedes Gunn could have their valley and the project that most assuredly included the Golden Eye mine.

Having taken an instant liking to Fernando, she felt regret at the thought of causing him unhappiness, but she’d agreed to Lucy's proposal because it would allow her to make a new start at the end of her three-year stint. And after the disastrous turn her personal life had taken in New York, she desperately needed a second chance.

She turned to the elder Moreno. "I'd like to provide a personal incentive for your support."

"Personal?" Luc asked. "You
mean,
something like bribery?"

Callie shook her head.
"Nothing like bribery.
Only what you have coming. What's
fair.
"

"And what's that?"

"Rental for five years.
Up front."

"But my dear," Fernando said, "why five? And why 'up front,' as you term it?"

"You'll get payment when you sign the lease: three years, so you'll get paid no matter what problems arise with the project, and a kind of signing bonus of two years' rent as a further incentive." She looked from father to son and back again. "What do you say?"

"It's still bribery," Luc said as he raised one eyebrow for emphasis.

"Stop thinking like a lawman and try thinking like a landlord."

She looked at Fernando. "When was the last time you derived any income from that piece of land?"

"Your grandfather left a lump sum in his will to cover the rental until the lease expired. That payment was made ten years ago, I believe. When we heard nothing further as the expiration approached, we concluded the house was of no further value."

"But you knew we'd kept up the taxes?"

"That is true."

"Wouldn't getting another lump sum be helpful?” She gestured toward the house. “Surely, you could find a good use for it?"

Luc watched his father with a look combining anger and resignation. "Remember the big picture
,Popi
. We made a commitment to the community plan."

"And I made a commitment to Lucinda Mayfield.
A long time ago.
More than a most welcome infusion of money...." Fernando’s eyes revealed his conflicting emotions. "...honor dictates...."

He paused as a dark haired woman emerged from the house and walked toward them with a tray containing glasses and a pitcher of what looked like iced tea.

"Ah, Doro," Fernando said with obvious pleasure. "Come meet our visitor." He took the tray, setting it down on the iron table before putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. "Doro, this is Callie Patterson." Turning to the younger woman he nodded. "Miss Patterson, this is my wife, Dorotea."

Callie took Mrs. Moreno's outstretched hand, wondering as she did so, about the woman's fixed smile and the slight paling of her complexion.

"Are you all right, Mamá?" Luc stepped forward and touched her arm.

"
Sí, sí,
" the woman said. "It is only...." She took a breath. Color flooded back to her cheeks as she turned to Callie. "You are so much like your grandmother, for a moment I thought I saw
una fantasma
— a ghost."

"You knew her?"

"Only from a distance.
She was far above me, but I knew who she was.
A famous beauty in these parts."

Some dark memory kept her smile from reaching her deep brown eyes. If her husband noticed, he made no remark. Surely he retained similar memories of his own.

"We are debating the question of renewing the land lease, Doro."

"Why would you not renew?" she asked.

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