Her Last Best Fling Read Online Free PDF Page A

decorated.
    Macy opened the door to the study and smiled when Blake muttered, “Woooee. This is a museum.”
    His eyes traveled over the glass cases filled with small items and guns from various Civil War battles.
    She’d had the estate appraised and this room alone was worth a couple of million. The study had been outfitted with special equipment that would protect it from fire and anything else Mother Nature might throw at it. The whole house was a bunker of sorts, concrete surrounded by stone. The windows could withstand an F-5 tornado. That was good because in this part of the country hurricanes and tornados happened at least once or twice a year.
    “I don’t have the heart to auction off these things. Other than the newspaper, this was my uncle Todd’s only passion. I can feel his spirit in here, and I just can’t let go of his stuff.”
    Blake blew out a whistle. “I’m no expert, but even I know this is one incredible collection. There are people who’d pay big money for it, but I understand how you feel. My dad collected baseball caps and cards. We still have an entire wall of his hats, some are from teams that no longer exist, and a few are hats his dad had given to him. There’s an original Yankees cap in the bunch, but my mom hides that one when her friends come over.
    “It was never even a question if we’d keep them. And I feel the same way about them, as you do.”
    She smiled. “Sounds like you really loved your dad.”
    Flipping off the light switch, he followed her out the door and to the kitchen.
    “Has the interview started?” His voice had changed and he sounded as if he suspected her of trying to get him to talk about his past.
    “No. Mere curiosity. I thought I’d feed you before grilling you.” She winked at him.
    “Then, yes. My dad was a hero to my brother and me. He’s the reason I went into the military, albeit he was air force. He was a pilot until he decided to retire and help Mom with the feed store. He was a tough old goat, and my brother and I didn’t get away with much when we were kids.”
    “I met your mom when I first arrived. I had to get a lawn mower and other gardening tools.”
    He chuckled.
    She served up the bowls of stew. “Your mother found me frowning as I checked out the lawn mowers. She dug around in her pockets and handed me a card that had the number of a teenager who does yards. Her exact words were, ‘He’s a good kid. For four acres it’ll be about a hundred dollars a week. If he tries to charge you more, tell him I’ll knock him upside the head.’”
    Blake laughed. “Yep, that’s my mom.”
    “I loved her. She was one of the few people who was genuinely kind to me. I’d heard Texans are a friendly bunch. And, okay, everyone has been nice to my face. But I get the strangest looks. And as I mentioned earlier, they haven’t been exactly welcoming.”
    He carried both of the bowls to the other end of the counter where there were stools and place settings. “Like I said earlier, soon someone will move to town and then you’ll be one of the gang. Just give them more time.”
    She smiled. “My friend Cherie told me the same thing. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much. I never knew any of my neighbors when I lived in New York, Paris or anywhere in the Middle East. Most of the time I lived out of hotels.”
    At the mention of hotels, his jaw tightened. She’d read what she could find on him, and knew that he’d been in Africa when he sustained his injuries. He was protecting a visiting American ambassador there. He and most of his men were hit by enemy fire, but they’d saved the ambassador and other dignitaries that day. The soldiers had earned Purple Hearts.
    “Don’t be too worried about it,” he interrupted her thoughts. “Small-town life isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. Eventually, you feel like a part of the community when everyone knows your name. It can be a wonderful thing, or a curse.” His eyebrow rose.
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