It's In His Smile (A Red River Valley Novel Book 3) (7 page)

Miranda and Talmadge’s heads swiveled toward Jamie.
What did he just say?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she blurted at the exact same time Talmadge spoke up.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” he said. Not quite as loudly as she did, but the firm authority in his voice was no less effective in conveying his distaste for the thought. Which galled her to the bone.

“Sure you are.” Jamie grabbed his laptop and turned the screen to them. A picture of her and Talmadge, lips locked, bodies molded together, his hand groping her ass where her pants had split in two, stared back at them. “This just showed up on the
Red River Rag
.”

Miranda’s eyes crashed shut. “Oh my God. This can’t be happening.”

Talmadge’s tone turned confused. “What’s the
Red River Rag
?”

“It’s a Tumblr blog about all of Red River’s gossip,” said Jamie.

“I thought Tumblr was mostly porn?” Talmadge said. When Miranda shot him her very best disgusted look, he mumbled, “Not that I would know.”

Miranda had tried to live clean. Tried not to earn the same bad rep as her mother. And she’d pulled it off spectacularly except for that one tiny indiscretion with Talmadge seven years, three months, and thirteen days ago. Miraculously, she’d been able to keep those few hours they’d spent in the inn’s honeymoon suite top secret, but now she was making headlines over an accidental rendezvous that involved her wardrobe malfunction, Talmadge’s hand, and both of their lips? At Bea’s wake!

Oh, God.
She was supposed to be building a reputation as Red River’s newest respectable proprietor.

Jamie chuckled like it was funny, which it wasn’t in the least. “If Tumblr is mostly porn, then you two fit right in.” Jamie laughed harder.

So not funny.

“I’m going. Tokillyou,” Miranda said through gritted teeth.

“Hey, it’s your ass going viral on the Internet, not mine.” Jamie held up both hands.

“It will be in the most painful way possible. When you least expect it,” Miranda promised.

“It’s not my fault you got caught on camera making out with someone famous.”

Miranda’s jaw locked. “We were not making out,” she managed to grind out. Well. Damn. Yes they were. “Were we, Mr. Oaks?”

He just shrugged, one corner of his mouth curling up. “We kinda were.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Sick! My sister’s dating Talmadge Oaks. Wait till I put this on Instagram. I’ll have girls all over me.”

“We’re not dating!” Miranda yelled. “And I swear to God if you put that
anywhere
or tell anybody, you will never be able to sire a child to carry on our family name.”

She turned on Talmadge. “You have to do something to stop this. People in Red River will listen to you. I can’t have people thinking we’re . . . we’re . . .”

Gah!

She pointed to the door, steam virtually swirling from her ears. “Go. Now.”

He flexed the hand on his injured arm and looked down at it. “I’ve got a couple of appointments. Lloyd will stay here while I’m gone.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t politely asking for a favor like normal people would. It was a command. She almost blurted no just to show him she really was the boss, but she did love the little dog.

Talmadge trekked toward her, stopping a breath away. “I’ll be back later with a
real
ladder and some tools.” He placed the edge of his index finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. Mockery gleamed in his metallic eyes. “Sweetheart.”

C
hapter
S
ix

Talmadge found a parking spot along the curb in the middle of Red River’s historic business district and glanced at his watch. He was late for the reading of Bea’s will, but he doubted being a few minutes late in Red River would ruffle a lot of legal feathers. He was surprised Red River even had an attorney now.

He picked at the sawdust that Miranda had just left all over him. Dirty clothes were a small price to pay for the feel of her sliding all the way down his body. He’d wanted to hold her there; the contrast of her soft curves against his work-hardened body had ignited a fire down below.

He picked faster.

The sawdust clung to his dress clothes like gum, so he finally gave up and got out of the old Ram truck. The door creaked when he slammed it.

Wheeler Peak was magnificent any time of year, but particularly in the winter and spring when it was still clothed in white all the way to the bottom. He admired it for a second while a few cars tooled by, and then darted across the street to Angelique Barbetta-Holloway’s law office, which was above her husband’s Main Street medical practice.

He climbed the stairs, rapped a knuckle against the open door, and peeked inside.

“Please come in.” Angelique stood and welcomed him.

“Nice to meet you.” Talmadge walked in and shook her hand over the desk.

She waved him into a seat in front of her. The tasteful armchair barely fit his large frame, but he was used to it. So he adjusted himself at an angle.

“You as well, Mr. Oaks.” Rumor had it she was as smart as she was beautiful and was fiercely in love with her new husband, Dr. Blake Holloway, with whom she was expecting a baby.

And he’d gleaned every bit of that information by scrolling through the
Red River Rag
on his phone since he’d left the inn a few minutes ago. Wow. Anything a person wanted to know about Red River was on that blog. But it was the pictures of him and Miranda that kept drawing his attention. She seemed so perfect in his arms that a spark of pride had swelled in his chest, and a lump had formed in his throat. Something he hadn’t experienced when he saw his pictures with beautiful women in the celebrity mags.

“Call me Talmadge.” He motioned to the specks of sawdust that covered most of his front. “I was helping a friend with a project.”

Angelique shook her head, her black ponytail swishing around her shoulders. She waved toward an open door to his right where several cans of paint sat on the floor along with brushes, rolls of tape, and a few drop cloths. A half-assembled baby bed leaned against the far wall, and miscellaneous parts were strewn across the wood floor. “I totally understand.” She laughed. “The words ‘It’s one baby. How hard can it be?’ actually came out of my mouth when I found out I was expecting.”

He smiled. Liked her already. “Congratulations, Mrs. Barbetta-Holloway.”

“Call me Angelique. I rarely go by my last name, since I chose to hyphenate it. Entire wars can be fought in the time it takes to say the whole thing. Irritates my husband to death.” She smiled. “Which is why I did it.”

She removed a file from a drawer and set it in front of her. Her silhouette was framed by the large picture window behind her. Talmadge studied the rich design of the classic crown molding that surrounded the window and lined the top of the walls.

Besides running the inn, his grandfather had done carpentry work on the side. Talmadge had helped with some of the repair jobs in these apartments back in the day. Even then he imagined how beautiful the old buildings could be if transformed by someone with a vision for them. The same kind of vision he had for Trinity Falls. Starting an entire green town from scratch had seemed like a brilliant idea until a few weeks ago.

The hand on his injured arm involuntarily clenched and released.

Scaling back to smaller, less ambitious jobs might be forced on him now. So might poverty, if Trinity Falls didn’t work out.

“How are you holding up?” Angelique asked, the backdrop of a clear blue sky and a snow-blanketed Wheeler Peak making the situation seem more pleasant than it was.

“I’m okay.” He used his fewer-words-are-best method of handling a conversation.

When he didn’t elaborate, she got right to the point and opened the folder sitting in front of her.

“I asked you here for the reading of Bea Oaks’s last will and testament.” Her voice was all professionalism.

Talmadge nodded.
Shouldn’t take long.
Although his grandparents hadn’t been poor, they also weren’t people of significant means. Besides the old gingerbread house where he grew up, there might be a little life insurance money. He’d never asked. He’d been the one to send money home every month since he got his first job right out of college. But Bea gave most of it to charities, saying she had no debt and didn’t need more material things at her age. She’d even asked him to stop wiring money into her account at the Red River Community Bank.

He hadn’t. How could he not send money home to the grandparents who had taken him in and raised him? What his grandparents chose to do with the money was up to them. If it made Bea happy to help others with it, then Talmadge was good with that. He understood that pull to give back. He’d spent his entire career doing the same. It was the reason he decided on the riskier path into green architecture instead of mainstream designs. It was his attempt to preserve instead of destroy. He’d destroyed too much early in his life.

“You, Talmadge Oaks, are her only living survivor and beneficiary.”

Scalding heat bit through his nerves.

Yes, thanks to him, his grandparents had no one else left.

He fought off a scowl and nodded for Angelique to continue.

She proceeded to read the will and all its legalese. Talmadge let her words flow over him as though it was Bea herself speaking.

Bea had updated her will a few months ago.
Somewhat puzzling because Bea didn’t have much, but okay.

She had been of sound mind and body.
Yep. Sharp as a tack until the day she passed.

Miranda had served as the witness to her last will and testament.

Miranda.
He shifted to find a more comfortable position. Analyzed the edges of a cottony white cloud that was just starting to come into view over Angelique’s head while she spoke.

Bea left all her worldly possessions to Talmadge.
No surprise.

Angelique read off the list of possessions:

First, the house and everything inside. He had no idea what he’d do with it. His life was back in Washington along with all his screwed-up investments. If he had a chance of recovering his life savings, he had to get back to Washington . . . and figure out how the hell to get his stymied building project moving again.

Next, the Subaru Talmadge had bought her some years ago—which she refused to drive, preferring Grandpa’s old Dodge Ram pickup instead. Talmadge couldn’t blame her. He preferred the gas-guzzling jalopy too. It felt more familiar. More like home than the new, economical, and environmentally friendly model.

Wouldn’t his friends crusading to stop global warming just crucify him for that?

Last, a life insurance policy, the value to revert to her account at the Red River Community Bank totaling . . .

Talmadge sat forward. “Did you just say—?”

Angelique peered at him over sophisticated reading glasses. “Yes, I did. See for yourself.” She shifted the papers and leaned across her desk so he could read it.

Holy shit.

That was a hell of a lot of zeros.

“Where’d my grandmother get that kind of money?” It wasn’t the Hail Mary he needed to cover his potential losses, but it would go a long,
long
way in keeping his life running until he could figure out a way to preserve the archeological ruins, strike a deal with the tribes in the Trinity Falls area, and the wheels of production could start turning again so his investment could pay off.

Angelique pulled off her reading glasses. “She got a lot of it from you.”

Talmadge tried to speak, but no words came out.

“Both of your grandparents had sizeable life insurance policies. Bea donated some of the money you sent her, but she saved most of it for a rainy day. Apparently, she made some very wise investments, too.”

Talmadge gave Angelique a blank stare, because his brain couldn’t wrap around this news.

“Since I’m fairly new in town, I didn’t know your grandmother very well, but Bea seemed like a practical woman.” Angelique tapped her glasses against the document. “Bea tried to
give
Miranda the inn, but Miranda refused to accept it. Said she’d pay for it or not have it at all. So I drew up the sale in the form of a contract. You’ve inherited that contract as well.”

Opening the folder, Angelique pulled out another document. “Here it is.”

Talmadge reached for the paper, but only scanned it. “I’m aware. Bea told me.” He scrubbed his good hand over his jaw. Flexed the injured hand and flinched at the soreness that shot through his shoulder. “I’m not an attorney. I’m just a guy who happens to know how to build things. I’m not even all that smart.”
I’m a dumbass when it comes to investments.
“I’m missing your point.” He gave the contract a shake. “What does Bea’s agreement with Miranda have to do with the rest of my inheritance? Aren’t they two separate things?”

Lacing her fingers together, Angelique nodded and leveled keen, intelligent eyes at him. “Normally, that would be true.”

Talmadge met her gaze. “But my gut tells me this situation isn’t normal.”

Angelique smiled, a look of approval spreading across her face like they’d just solved a difficult crossword puzzle together. “And something tells me that you’re much smarter than you’re willing to admit.”

He raked a hand over his jaw again and stared at Miranda and Bea’s signatures scrawled at the bottom of the page. Bea’s age showed in the shaky lettering. Miranda’s smooth, looping strokes flowed graceful and majestic across the page.

Even her handwriting turned him on.

Hell.

“Let’s hear the
but
,” said Talmadge.

Angelique gave him another approving smile.
“But,”
she said with emphasis, “there was a separate codicil that Miranda didn’t know about. No one did. Until now.”

Something speared at his gut.

Angelique’s expression softened like a mother looking at her child. He’d seen it many times in Bea’s eyes. Had seen it in his mother’s eyes on the rare occasions that she wasn’t worrying about how to please his dad so his temper wouldn’t turn explosive. “She was very proud of you. Because of how you tried to look out for her financially, she wanted to leave you a legacy in her own way.”

That was Bea. Always looking out for him, always showing him unconditional love in everything she did. Wetness welled in his eyes, before he spoke in gravelly, broken words. “She was a good woman.”

“The best, I’m told,” said Angelique. “But I still haven’t fully answered your question about how this relates to Miranda Cruz.”

No, she hadn’t, and Talmadge wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

“She also knew that Miranda would have a hard time on her own financially. Apparently, Miranda has been working at Joe’s since she was a teenager and used her savings for the down payment on the inn and the remodel.”

He waited.

“Your grandmother wanted you to help Miranda get the inn open and running.”

He gave his head a hard shake. “Not possible. I have to get back to Washington. I’ll hire a new contractor for the inn.” A competent one. An honest one.

“Bea was very specific that she wanted
you
to help Miranda with this project. She said your hands-on style would ensure that the renovations would be done right, and it would help Miranda’s budget stretch.”

It would also ensure his daily involvement.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Miranda Cruz. She was the first woman in a long while who had sparked an interest in his mind and several other parts of his body. In fact, he’d thought of little else since he walked out onto the back porch of the inn and found her on all fours with her firm, round bottom smiling up at him.

But he
had
to go back to Washington and deal with his problems. Especially now that he had some money to function with.

“Miranda’s contractor doesn’t seem very competent. I’ll find someone else. I can keep in touch with the new guy from Washington. Skype works wonders, so I can look the guy in the eye, and I’ll make sure he sends me the receipts. I’ll have Miranda’s kid brother check the supplies and make sure it all adds up.”

That would be helping. So he would still fulfill Bea’s last wishes, even if he wasn’t onsite. Problem solved.

Except that Angelique’s arched brow and sympathetic smile told him that there was definitely still a problem.