Authors: Annie Jones
“
A concept!
”
Somehow, she managed to sound both insulted and caught red-handed.
“
I wanted to come up here to see if anything struck a chord and helped me come up with a new concept for Lettie
’
s birthday All right?
”
“
A concept and a clandestine conversation. Lucky you.
”
He dropped down into the chair, grabbed up the phone receiver, jabbed in Carol
’
s home number, then kicked back and placed his new tennis shoes on the corner of the desk.
“
You
’
ve come to just the right place to find both.
”
She gave him a look that could have blistered a stone.
Riley laughed out loud. No petty priss-and-pout routine for this gal, no sir, She did not play those games to try to persuade or manipulate him. She did not pretend to be something she was not to get what she wanted from him. Did she know, he wondered, that in refusing to do just that she had gotten to him in ways no other woman ever had?
The phone rang for the fourth time in his ear.
“
For your information, I really do need to come up with a new concept for Miss Lettie
’
s birthday present.
”
“
I believe you.
”
The fifth ring...the sixth.
“
And as for your conversation with...what
’
s her name, I...I have to admit, I
’
m dying to know what she wants.
”
“
Well, looks like you may have to linger on your deathbed a while longer.
”
He hung up with one finger then methodically pressed in the number of Carol
’
s workplace.
“
Because she
’
s not answering her cell. She doesn
’
t usually go into her office on Saturdays, but I
’
ll give her a try there, just in case.
”
“
If you want me to, I
’
ll leave.
”
She didn
’
t so much as shift her eyes toward the door.
“
Naw, no reason to. You go right on looking for your birthday concept. I don
’
t mind the company.
”
Dixie began to work her way around the room. She seemed totally unaware of him, or of the way the sunlight lit her face to warm the color of her lips and reveal the finest of lines beside her beautiful eyes, the evidence of how readily she shared her smile. She walked the length of the bookshelves, a study in contrasts, with her ever-present pearl necklace peeking out from beneath the man
’
s work shirt and the overalls that skimmed her figure in a singularly feminine way.
She turned her head then moved toward something across the way, her hand trailing slowly over the low credenza as she went.
Riley could watch her all day. Just watch and wonder what was going on in the complicated brain of hers. And wish—
“
Foster Law Office, Mindy Nelson speaking. How may I help you?
”
“
Oh, hello, Mindy, this is Riley Walker. Is Carol there? I
’
m returning her call.
”
He heard Carol
’
s administrative assistant explaining something on the other end of the line but his attention stayed with Dixie.
She paused to look up at a dusty, stuffed pheasant perched on a glass shelf over the green-curtained windows.
“
Sure, I
’
ll hold.
”
Riley lowered the mouthpiece.
“
What do you know, she
’
s there, but she
’
s on the other line. I
’
m holding.
”
“
That
’
s nice.
”
Dixie sounded distracted, as if she could care less. Still, she did manage to
meander over to stand and stare at the pictures hanging on the wall just to the right of the desk, the side nearest the phone.
Riley did not think for one moment she expected inspiration to spring from the pictures she must have all but memorized in her lifetime of coming to this office. He made a quick study of the rather eclectic display of work-related and family photos that looked to represent generations of relatives.
“
You know, since the reunion with Fulton seems iffy and writing Miss Lettie
’
s life story isn
’
t panning out, maybe you could do a scrapbook of some kind. Your family seems to have a lot of photographs.
”
“
Yes, and Miss Lettie has seen them all so many times, too. I don
’
t see how I could make that come as much of a surprise.
”
Riley nodded his head, even though Dixie wasn
’
t looking at him. He sat back in the chair, his legs still up. His good mood had him jiggling one foot in rhythm to the cloyingly upbeat showtune of the
“
on hold
”
music.
“
Hey, what about something like that?
”
Dixie turned first to him, then to face the large painting of the family home that dominated the paneled wall directly opposite the desk.
“
Riley Walker, you are a genius!
”
He leaned back further in the chair. He didn
’
t even try to pretend her enthusiasm didn
’
t please him. To be a hero in Dixie
’
s eyes, even in some small way, just meant too much to him, made him feel too good.
“
Commissioning someone to do a painting of something meaningful for Miss Lettie is a good idea, I admit, but
genius
? I don
’
t know about that.
”
“
Forget the painting!
”
She rushed forward.
The song on the other end of the phone ended, then another one, every bit as annoyingly peppy, began. Riley didn
’
t give a hoot, not about the wait, the music, or even that Dixie hadn
’
t embraced his idea. Just being here with her, watching her light up and leap into action, lifted his spirits more than he
’
d ever imagined possible.
Up on her tiptoes, Dixie seized the painting with both hands and lifted it easily up then off the wall.
“
Behind this thing is Daddy
’
s wall safe!
”
“
Wall safe? What—
”
“
It
’
s where Daddy kept old family jewelry, military medals, a few old papers. I
’
m not sure what all, but there might just be something in here. Something that belonged to my mom or my grandmother or even my great-grandfather that Miss Lettie might just love to have for her own.
”
“
Do you know the combination?
”
Riley squinted at her fingers nimbly working the large black-and-white dial.
“
I should. It
’
s my birthday. Ten.
”
The dial whirred and clicked into place.
“
Twenty-eight.
”
She flexed her fingers like some kind of safecracker then glanced over her shoulder.
“
I think I
’
ll keep the last number to myself, if you don
’
t mind.
”
“
I never figured you to be vain about your age, Princess.
”
“
Vain? Ha! Look away, please.
”
She waved her hands like someone shooing away a curious child.
“
It
’
s enough you
’
ve moved into my house and taken over Daddy
’
s office. I
’
d like to have one place that is designated Riley-free, even if it is just a tiny hole in the wall, thank you.
”
“
You planning on crawling in there whenever you need a break from me?
”
He chuckled, but averted his eyes as she
’
d asked.
“‘
Cause if you are, I think we
’
re going to have some wallpaper left over after doing Wendy
’
s room. You might want to use that to cozy up your new home away from home.
”
“
Thank you, the Martha Stewart of wall-safe interior decorating. You
’
re not peeking, are you?
”
He heard a final spin, then the handle turning and Dixie wrenching the door open.
“
Can I look—?
”
The music from the phone clicked off mid-note.
“
Mr. Walker, I can connect you now.
”
“
Open Sesame! The Fulton family secret vault is now open for business!
”
“
Hold it a minute, Dixie, Carol
’
s on the line.
”
He tipped his chair back and played it up big for Dixie
’
s sake alone.
“
Carol! Great to hear from you. I
’
m sorry we crossed wires before but you
’
ve got my undivided attention now. What can I do for you?
”
“
Riley, I had a phone call today that you need to know about.
”
He sat up.
“
That sounds serious. What—
”
“
Marcia called me.
”
His feet hit the floor with a thud. Suddenly the game was over. Reality had intruded, hard and unforgiving, into their lives. And it had brought with it the promise of reconciliation—either that, or the threat of tearing everything he truly cared about to shreds.
* * *
“
Marcia? When? What did she say? Where is she?
”
“
Marcia?
”
Dixie turned, and the look on Riley
’
s face confirmed she had heard what she thought she
’
d heard.
“
Yes, I...Fulton Summers? When?
”
She reigned in the impulse to rush over to him. If the shoe were on the other foot and this were about her family matters, she would want space and time to gather all the information she could and to deal with it as she saw fit. She held her breath and started for the door.
“
Stay.
”
The single whispered word riveted her in place.
“
Dixie, please stay, I won
’
t be long.
”
She nodded.
“
I see.
”
Riley
’
s brow creased. His shoulders sagged. He rubbed his eyes.
“
Did she give any indication—
”
Reluctantly, Dixie turned her back to him to grant him some privacy. She went through the motions of taking things out of the wall safe, though her excitement for the adventure had waned.
One by one, she removed each item, making a mental note of it as she did so. Three large flat boxes...those would be war medals for Grandpa, Daddy, and Young Bobby. All three had served their country with pride and valor. Next came a battered, accordion-style expanding file held closed with Daddy
’
s trademark red rubber bands. Dixie knew it held Daddy
’
s greatest earthly treasures: love letters from her mother and handmade cards and pictures drawn by Dixie as a child.
She pulled out a cream-colored jewelry box with her mother
’
s gold embossed monogram on it. Dixie inhaled deeply. The box still smelled of Mama
’
s perfume...Dixie had spilled an entire bottle in the blue, satin lining. The last item was something she
’
d never seen before. Who knew how long it had languished in this safe. A memento, she supposed, a token bearing her great-grandfather
’
s name that told anyone who saw it what her family truly valued most.