Keeping Victoria's Secret (8 page)

He walked slowly, threading his way through
people, cars, and boxes shaking his head in disbelief. When he
reached Victoria, he tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, she
faced him, eyes wide behind horn-rimmed glasses, her hair gathered
once more into a bun on the back of her head.

Could she morph back into the beautiful
creature he’d seen the other day? Angrily he barked, “What’s going
on? What the hell did you do?”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” she shot
back.

“Things like this never happened before you
showed up!”

“None of this was my fault,” she said, waving
vaguely at the chaos.

The head and footboards of a huge king-sized
sleigh bed leaned against one of the oak trees. “Is that yours?” he
asked pointing at the bed frame.

“Of course it’s mine.”

“What are you going to do with that?” he
asked, eyeing the enormous mattress.

“It’s a bed Sherlock. What do you think? I’m
going to sleep on it.”

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out,
“Alone?” eliciting an icy stare from Victoria.

“Well, that’s about all the excitement I need
for today,” Vicky said as she watched the last truck vanish around
a bend in the road. Her belongings were all safely deposited inside
the house. Police reports were completed and insurance information
exchanged. Everyone had driven off and she stood with Jack and
Elvira in the sunshine.

“Now where the Dickens did Doc and Fred
disappear to?” asked Elvira looking around.

“Must be inside. Our coffee will be stone
cold by now. Come on in and I’ll make a fresh pot.”

“I think I need a drink,” said Jack. “That
Van Winkle was a pain in the ass. I didn’t like the way he was
talking to you Victoria. I wanted to knock his teeth down his
throat.”

“That’s okay Jack, I can take care of
myself,” she said coolly, heading for the porch steps.

They went into the kitchen and found Fred and
Doc at the table frowning over the letters and documents strewn
before them. She noticed their expressions right away and wondered
what was wrong.

“Have a seat folks. You might say we have a
little problem here,” said Doc.

All three eased into chairs as Fred and Doc
exchanged concerned glances.

“Uh-oh, don’t think I like the sound of
this,” said Jack.

“What is it Mr. Douglas?” she asked.

They both cleared their throats uneasily, but
it was Fred who spoke first.

“Your grandmother, Vicky, as you are aware,
had an older brother. As I remember the terms of their parents
will, the farm was left first to their son, Alexander or in the
event of his demise, your grandmother. Actually if I’m remembering
correctly, it was left to Alexander or his wife and children, if
any, first….” Fred’s voice trailed off and he shuffled through the
papers on the table.

“But Alexander was killed in 1945, near the
end of World War II,” she said.

“Yes yes, that’s quite right, but apparently
Alexander married a young woman, a Betsy Schummerhorn, here in
Pippen’s Grove before he left to go overseas. I confess I wasn’t
aware of that fact until today.” Fred again perused the papers in
front of him.

“Here’s a copy of the marriage certificate
and letters to and from various family members, which corroborate
everything. It seems as though Vicky's grandmother for some reason
entrusted these documents to Elvira's mother before leaving
Pippen's Grove. Betsy Schummerhorn, or Betsy Willet that is, had a
son. What that means is that the property would have been passed
after Alexander’s death to Betsy and their son. There’s no record
here of his birth but I’m sure that’s easily located.”

“So this son of Alexander’s would have
inherited?” asked Jack slowly.

“Well yes, the son would have, but he is
deceased as of course is his mother.”

“Well then, there we are. No problem,” said
Jack shrugging.

“Not quite. There is one other thing. That
son of Alexander’s also had one child, a son unless I’m mistaken,
and Doc says I’m not, and he is very much alive.”

In unison, she and Jack spoke just one word,
“Who?”

Fred cleared his throat once more. “That
would be Jonathan Van Winkle.”

Stunned she sat perfectly still. “What does
this mean?”

Double Chocolate Brownies

1/2 cup butter

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate

4 eggs

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 cups sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 tablespoon rum (optional)

1 cup sifted all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 350 F. Melt the butter and
chocolate in a bowl placed over a pot of barely simmering water.
Mix well and let this mixture cool completely, or the brownies will
be heavy and dry. Beat the eggs sugar and salt until well creamed.
Stir in chocolate mixture, vanilla and rum. Fold in flour until
just combined. Pour into a 9” X 13’ pan that has been greased and
lined with parchment paper. Bake for about 25 minutes at 350 F.
Cool completely and Frost. Don't cut until the brownies are cool as
the interiors are still moist when fresh from the oven.

Luscious Ganache Frosting

8 ounces finely chopped chocolate, milk or
dark

1 cup heavy cream

2 tablespoons dark rum

Heat cream until the boiling point, remove
from heat and pour in chocolate. Stir until smooth, add rum. Pour
into a mixing bowl and place over a bowl of ice water. Beat over
ice water until fluffy and thickened. Frost quickly and chill.

“Fred, I don’t believe it for a minute.”
Elvira was insistent. “It just can’t be.”

Fred lifted his palms up in a helpless
gesture. “If everything Doc and I’ve seen here is correct, then it
is indeed quite possible.”

Elvira took a sip of her coffee and set the
cup down with a decisive clunk. “No. I don’t believe so Fred. And
here’s why. Your father was a good friend of Alexander Willet and
was as honest as the day is long. He never would have gone ahead
with that legal agreement between Charley and Victoria if he’d had
any idea that Victoria wasn’t the sole owner. It stands to
reason.”

“Perhaps Dad had no idea there was a child,
or even a marriage between Alexander and this Betsy
Schummerhorn.”

At the other end of the kitchen table, Doc
Sweeney shuffled through the old letters and envelopes spread
before him as he watched Vicky quietly growing pale. With a
concerned look, the doctor glanced frequently at her as she sat
gripping the table with her white knuckled hands.

She felt deflated, only half listening to the
conversation. I’m losing Nanna’s home. This is how awful it must
have been for Jack when he realized the farm wasn’t his. Now I know
how he felt. She stole a glance at him as he reached for a second
brownie before he’d finished his first chewing methodically, a dark
frown on his face. Poor Jack has had the rug pulled from under him
twice in one week. Looking around at her boxes stacked in corners
tears welled up and she was engulfed by a wave of helplessness.
There’s probably no reason to unpack all the boxes. Vicky felt a
little funny and decided to go into the bathroom and wash her face
with a cool cloth. When she moved her chair out and started to
stand, the world began to spin. Oh no! Not again! Then everything
went black.

On the other side of the table, Doc Sweeney
pushed back his chair and shouted. “Hey, look out! Somebody catch
her.” Vicky swayed on her feet for a second, pale as a freshly
laundered bed sheet, and then began to crumple.

Jack vaulted to his feet and caught her just
as she was going down. Losing his balance, he collapsed into his
chair, her shapely bottom pressing hard into his lap. For an
instant, as he cradled her, the fragrance of her hair and soft
touch of her cheek on his, were intoxicating. With an effort, he
forced licentious thoughts from his mind. He sat shaking his head
in disgust with the unconscious girl in his arms. “Here we go. It’s
like déjà vu all over again.”

Vicky was unconscious for only a few seconds.
When her eyelids fluttered open, she was looking straight into the
fierce scowling face of Jack Conner. Confused, her mind flickered
back to where she’d left off writing that morning. In her
confusion, she imagined the handsome pirate of Caribbean Fire had
her in his evil clutches.

Struggling against him, she cried out, “If
you’ve brought me here to have your way with me then…,” she sat up
with a start, blinking at their puzzled faces. She could feel a
warm flush as color returned to her cheeks.

Doc was grinning at her. “The two of you make
a good looking couple in each other’s arms.”

Wriggling away, in an attempt to extricate
herself, she inadvertently ground her behind into Jack’s crotch,
and she felt him flinch.

“Oops, sorry,” she said, clambering to her
feet.

“Are you feeling quite all right now?” This
came from Doc, coming around the table, peering closely at her
face.

“I’m not okay, but I guess nobody cares about
that,” growled Jack.

Elvira hurried to the sink, filled a glass of
water, and brought it to her. “Drink this slowly dear and sit back
down. I know this is all rather a shock for you but I’m sure we’ll
figure something out. The good Lord wouldn’t have brought you up
here to your grandmother’s place without a reason. Things will work
out. You’ll see. Now I’ll make you some tea with plenty of sugar.
It’s the best thing for someone who’s fainted.”

The reason for her distress came back to her
in a rush. The house and the farm were never Nanna’s to begin with.
She’d never even considered that one day she’d inherit this place
until a month ago when she’d received the letter from Mr. Douglas.
She’d been so excited and so happy to have this connection with her
grandmother’s past and now it was all going up in smoke.

Mrs. Sweeney gathered up the empty coffee
mugs and took them to the sink. Returning to her seat at the table
she turned once more to Fred and asked, “Do we know the name of
Alexander and Betsy’s son?”

Fred looked through some papers and then
pulled out a single sheet. “There’s a letter here from Victoria,
Vicky’s grandmother, telling your mother that Betsy’s son was named
Theodore. This is dated July 1947, when Victoria was still married
to Charley Conner, before they divorced and she left town. Says
he’s a darling little baby. What happened was, as Doc and I pieced
it together, Betsy remarried a Van Winkle long about 1949 and her
husband legally adopted young Theodore so his last name was
changed. Doc believes that he passed away about ten years back and
Jonathan Van Winkle is his only child.”

At the mention of Van Winkle’s name, she sat
up and blurted, “Oh my God, he must know something.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Who
knows what?” snapped Jack.

“Van Winkle. This morning.” She clutched the
back of Jack’s chair to steady herself. “With everything else
happening, it slipped my mind. He kept asking me about the apple
crop and I told him he’d have to talk to you, Jack. He told me that
soon the apple orchards wouldn’t be your decision and maybe neither
of us would have the farm. I can’t remember precisely, but it was
something along those lines. Don’t you understand? He must know
he’s the heir, or at least he has a suspicion?”

Jack got up and began to pace, a dangerous
gleam in his eye, looking very like the pirate captain of her
imagination. “If that son-of-a-bitch comes around here trying to
steal this place out from under us, I’ll stick my boot so far up
his butt; he’ll taste shoe polish. Pardon me, Mrs. Sweeney.”

Elvira grinned at him, amused. “That’s quite
all right Jack. I can understand how you’d be a bit upset. I
noticed that you said, ‘If he tries to steal this place out from
under us’.”

Jack glanced at her and shrugging he took
another brownie from the diminishing pile on the plate.

Vicky was wringing her hands. “How can you be
hungry at a time like this?”

“Mrs. Sweeney makes a damn good brownie.
Can’t resist,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

Fred began sorting all the documents and
letters again, separating them from the old photographs. “Tell you
what. Vicky, you hold onto these pictures for now. I’ll take all
these letters and papers and go through them carefully. See if I
can’t discover any additional information. There are a few facts
that we still don’t know for sure. Elvira, do you have any more
letters or anything from Vicky’s grandmother?”

“Perhaps,” the doctor's wife said
thoughtfully.

A loud knocking came from the front door. All
five of them glanced around the table with raised brows.

“What now?” Still a little shaky Vicky got to
her feet.

“I’ll see who that is.” Fred gestured for her
to sit and went to the door.

The others waited around the table listening
to the murmured voices out on the front porch.

Fred returned accompanied by a silver haired
elderly man, clutching a battered felt hat in his hands. Though
neat and clean, his clothes were a couple of decades out of date.
“This fellow says he wants to see Jack Conner,” Fred announced.

Everyone stared at the newcomer as Doc got up
and pulled out a chair for him.

“Thank you.” The old man sat down smiling at
them.

Jack, still scowling said, “Well, you found
me. I’m Conner. Who are you and what do you want.”

The codger smiled and declared, “Oh my. Land
sakes alive. Are those brownies?”

Elvira pushed the plate a little closer and a
weathered hand reached out and scooped up two of them.

He took a bite, closed his eyes in delight,
and mumbled with his mouth full, “I haven’t tasted anything
homemade like these in years. Not since my wife passed on.”