Willow in Bloom (7 page)

And when she had, she found papers inside: a long letter and several documents.

A very important, very informative letter and very interesting documents.

Important enough, informative enough, interesting enough for Willow to make that call to her brother in a hurry.

 

Willow paced as Bram sat at her kitchen table and read what she'd found under Gloria's mattress forty-five minutes earlier. Each time she passed by him she tried to gauge his reaction, and she could tell he was as shocked as she had been.

“So it wasn't the way Gloria always claimed it was,” Bram said when he finally finished the long letter and laid it on the table beside the documents, which included Gloria's marriage license and a deed to a property in Washington, D.C.

The letter was written to Gloria's sons. But it hadn't been in an envelope, and when Willow had unfolded the sheets, she'd realized at first glance that what her grandmother had written to her late father and her uncle was important enough to be read immediately. Even if it wasn't originally intended for her or for Bram.

“Gloria got married in Reno during that time she was there, hoping to break away from Black Arrow and her Comanche heritage,” Willow said, as if her brother needed it explained. “But the Teddy Colton she married didn't die there shortly after the wedding and before anyone could meet him—the way she told everyone he had. They got married and had one night together, and then Gloria discovered the invitation to his wedding to another woman, and she left him sleeping in the hotel room. She thought he would come after her, tell her he loved her, and that of course he would break it off with the other woman. But instead
he didn't come after her at all. He went ahead and married the other woman as planned.”

“Which makes him a bigamist.”

“And broke Gloria's heart. So she came back to Black Arrow. But it wasn't until she was home again that she realized she was pregnant,” Willow continued.

“And when she
did
realize she was pregnant she hired a private investigator to find Teddy Colton to tell him?” Bram muttered.

“Right.” Willow confirmed it as if she were the expert, when in fact they were merely rehashing what had been in the letter they'd both read. “By then Teddy Colton had gone through with the second marriage, to this Kay person, and he didn't want anyone to know about Gloria or the pregnancy—which would have come out if he'd divorced Gloria and had to re-marry Kay.”

“So instead he paid Gloria off.”

“By setting up a trust fund and signing over to her the deed to a piece of property in Washington, D.C. In Georgetown, specifically.”

“And the crux of it,” Bram said, as if he were just seeing it for himself, “is that Dad and Uncle Thomas—”

“And all of us kids—”

“Are the legitimate heirs of Teddy Colton, while any kids or grandkids he had with Kay—”

“Might have thought they were the heirs, but aren't, because Teddy Colton's Reno wedding to Gloria was
never dissolved. So his subsequent marriage to Kay wasn't legal or valid, and any kids or grandkids coming out of that union—”

“Are illegitimate,” Bram concluded. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Willow agreed.

“Plus there's an inheritance,” Bram said, as if the wheels of his brain were turning smoothly again after the shock of what he'd read in the letter. “And coincidentally, there's someone in town nosing around asking questions about us.”

“Maybe part of the interest in us involves this deed,” Willow suggested.

“I think it's possible,” Bram agreed. Then, as if he'd just realized Willow was still pacing, he said, “Would you sit down? You're making me dizzy.”

Willow did as he'd suggested, taking the chair across from him. “So what do you think is going on, Bram?”

“I'd say we've found proof of what Rand Colton was here looking for last month. That we
are
connected to this other branch of the Coltons. That we're the legitimate heirs of Teddy Colton. And that we seem to have inherited some sort of trust fund and some property in Georgetown.”

“I meant does all this have anything to do with the fire and newspaper office break-in and this other supposed guy asking about us around town?”

“Maybe,” her brother said noncommittally. “One thing is for sure, though—this could change some lives. Maybe lives of people who don't want them
changed. Or it could take something away from someone who doesn't want to lose it. Until we know exactly what's going on, I'm thinking that it would be a good idea for all of us to be a little extra careful.”

“And to put these documents and the letter somewhere safe,” Willow added.

“After we show it to Uncle Thomas. Plus we'd better let all the grandchildren know, too, so they can be on guard in case there's any move made against any of us.”

“Do you really think we're in danger?” Willow asked worriedly.

Bram shrugged. “I don't know, Will. I don't know what the D.C. property is worth or how much whoever wants it wants it—if that's what's going on here. I don't know what these other Coltons might be worried about losing to us, either. I do know that I'm taking the letter and the documents right now, showing it to Uncle Thomas and then locking it away at the bank so it's not here, putting you in possible jeopardy.”

For once Willow was happy with the protective tendencies of one of her brothers. “You won't get any argument from me,” she declared. “So, are you going to contact Rand Colton and see what he has to say about this?”

“He left me a few numbers where he could be reached. But I think first we'd better just let the immediate family know what's going on and find out who this guy is who's asking questions about us now.
And if he had anything to do with the break-in and the fire.”

“Do you have any other leads?”

“Not about anyone else who looks suspicious. But I have heard that there's someone staying in a trailer outside of town, and I'm about to check that out.”

Bram gathered up the deed and the pages of Gloria's letter to her sons, obviously preparing to leave.

As he did, Willow said, “Do you think this is what Gloria meant just before she died when she told you to find the truth?”

“Could be. But she wrote the letter so long ago—right after Dad and Uncle Thomas were born, it looks like—that it's hard to know if there was something else she wanted uncovered. Something that's happened since then.”

“I think this is it,” Willow said. “I think when she realized Teddy Colton wasn't going to be a part of her life, or Dad's or Uncle Thomas's, she decided to keep all that a secret—to avoid the shame and humiliation. But she must have written the letter so that someday her sons would know what really went on. So they would know their complete heritage.”

“It's possible. But imagine making up that story about her husband dying.”

Willow had no problem imagining it. She knew exactly what it was like to get caught up in a moment the way the young Gloria had. To give in to an overwhelming spark of passion with a handsome, charming man who could sweep a woman off her feet.

And Willow also knew what it was to feel horrified by what she'd done when it was over. To worry about what kind of response she was going to meet from her family, her friends, her whole community when they learned she was going to be a single mother…

“Will? Are you okay? You're really pale all of a sudden.”

Willow yanked herself back to the present and came up with a quick excuse. “I was busy going through things and I forgot to have lunch.”

“Well, eat something now. I'd better get over to Uncle Thomas with this stuff so he can take a look at it before I have it locked up for safekeeping. Thanks for doing this.”

“I'm just glad I found something. I didn't think I was going to.”

Bram reminded her to keep her doors locked, said goodbye and left.

Willow stayed sitting at her kitchen table, still struck by the similarities between the path her grandmother's life had taken and the path hers had.

“So you really would understand,” she whispered, feeling somehow comforted by the knowledge that she wasn't the only one who had gotten carried away by an overpowering attraction to a man and done something she would never have otherwise. Something she was embarrassed by. Something she'd paid dearly for.

But her grandmother had survived and ended up with two wonderful sons and eleven grandchildren who loved her.

“So maybe it will all work out for me, too,” Willow said.

And in her hopes for that she remembered she had a date tonight with the overpoweringly attractive man who had gotten her into all this in the first place, and she still needed to shower, shampoo her hair and get dressed.

Which she headed to her own bedroom to do, feeling just a little less shame than she had before.

And hoping fervently that what she'd done in Tulsa in June didn't reverberate through generations the way her grandmother's night of passion seemed to have.

W
illow could already hear the carnival music playing in the distance when eight o'clock came and there were three sharp raps on her apartment door.

She didn't hesitate to open it. She was too excited at the prospect of seeing Tyler to prolong the anticipation any longer than necessary.

And there he stood, decked out and looking too good to believe.

Silver-toed snakeskin boots. Tight blue jeans and a belt with a World Champion buckle. A crisp white Western shirt detailed with blue-and-black points over each breast pocket. Spiky hair and a clean-shaven face.

“Hi,” she said, with just a hint of awe in her voice as the scent of his aftershave wafted to her and she peered into eyes so green they hardly seemed real.

“Hi to you, too,” he answered, taking a slow tour of her own sandals, navy-blue Capri pants, lighter blue tank top with bra straps, and hair twisted into the kind of knot the salesgirl had demonstrated the day before, held in place by the chopsticks.

When he'd taken full stock of Willow he said, “You look better every time I see you.”

He had no way of knowing how unusual compliments like that were to her. Or how they turned her insides to mush.

Willow felt as if she were beaming again. “Thank you. You're not too shabby yourself.”

That last part had sounded much more like what one of her brothers would have said than any way for a woman to compliment a man. She wished she could reclaim the words and think of something more feminine, more coy, to say.

But it was too late for that, so she opted for getting past her blunder, and said, “Would you like to come in or shall we just go?”

Tyler nodded over his shoulder in the direction of the carnival music. “Sounds like they've started without us. How 'bout we just go?”

Right answer. Because Willow was a little afraid that if she got him inside her apartment she might not want to leave again.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking her keys and stepping out onto the landing beside Tyler.

“Shall we walk or drive?” he asked as he followed her down the wooden steps.

“I'm fine with walking if you are. It's only about a mile from here, on the edge of town. It'll only take us about twenty minutes to get there.”

“Then let's do that.”

They made small talk along the way, mainly about Tyler's new furniture—how it looked and if it worked for him.

Tyler assured her it was all perfect.

“I spent most of the day at my new desk,” he said. “Not working, but trying to.”

Willow was confused. “The desk was distracting?”

He leaned over to confide in her ear, “No, thinking about you was.”

The devilish smile that went with the confidence sent small shivers of delight running up and down Willow's spine. But they'd reached the carnival by then, and Tyler stepped ahead of her to pay the entrance fee and buy tickets for the games and rides, so she had a moment to get some control over her response.

Which was a good thing, because she was worried she might be grinning like an idiot, and didn't want him to see it.

The carnival was a big draw not only for people from Black Arrow but for folks from surrounding communities. It pulled in so many people that the crowd was nearly shoulder to shoulder and the noise level was deafening.

Willow was only too happy to see the mass of humanity, though. It allowed her a degree of anonymity.
She saw people she knew and they saw her, but for the most part it was only to wave and holler a hello.

On the other hand, there were times when she caught sight of one of her brothers or cousins, and then she did her best to duck or to lure Tyler out of harm's way.

It didn't make for a relaxing evening, but she counted herself lucky each time she managed it.

And she was very lucky all evening, as she and Tyler rode the Ferris wheel and the merry-go-round and the Tilt-A-Whirl, as they went through the haunted house and the tent that displayed the two-headed snake, the biggest fruits and vegetables purportedly ever grown, and one of Elvis's guitars, among other novelties and oddities.

They also played chuck-a-luck. Tried their hand at the cakewalk. Threw baseballs at the paddle bar to try to drop the mayor into the four-foot pool of water he sat suspended over. And Tyler won Willow three stuffed animals and a bud vase by shooting wooden ducks with a pellet gun.

At ten the piped-in carnival music was turned off, and they wandered to the bandstand for the music competition. Groups and single singers, young and old, were competing for a first prize of fifty dollars. Willow knew some of them, but not all.

The acts varied from polka music to heavy metal and techno, and anything in between, including a girl who sang Patsy Cline songs almost as well as Patsy Cline herself.

Willow and Tyler both got into the spirit of the competition. At the end of each performance, they whistled and clapped and cheered, until the Patsy Cline singer was given first prize and sang one last song—“Sweet Dreams”—which the crowd was calling for.

By then the carnival was winding down, booths were closing, food vendors were cleaning up, and it was time to leave.

Even though Willow wasn't actually ready to call it a night with Tyler, they joined the stream of people leaving the carnival grounds, weaving among the cars and trucks parked beyond the entrance.

As they reached the first block of houses in town again, Willow spotted Bram. His patrol car was parked, blue and red lights flashing, near a car with what looked like a rental agency sticker on the bumper. He was standing with a man Willow had never seen before, studying his driver's license in the glow of a flashlight.

The man fit the description Bram had given her of whoever it was who'd been asking questions about them around town, and Willow felt a sudden sense of concern for her brother's safety rather than the desire to hide from him the way she had from her other brothers and cousins during the evening.

“That's Bram. My brother,” she told Tyler.

“That's right, you said he was the sheriff. Looks like he's working tonight.”

Willow couldn't merely walk on by, not after the
conversation she and Bram had had over the inheritance just hours before, and she came to a stop several feet away.

Tyler apparently noted her concern, because he said, “He seems to know what he's doing.”

“For what usually goes on around here, he does. But there are some unusual things happening lately that we're thinking are aimed specifically at our family, and that guy looks like he might be the one Bram suspects of doing them.”

“Don't you think your brother can handle him?”

“I suppose. I just can't keep from wondering if he really knows what he's facing, if that's the guy.”

“It's probably not a good idea for us to distract him. But we can stay here and keep an eye on him if you want. Then if things look like they're getting out of hand, I can help him out. Would that make you feel better?”

“Yes, it would,” Willow answered. And even though she never took her eyes off Bram and the stranger he was talking to, she mentally chalked up big points for Tyler for his kindness, his consideration, his sensitivity to her feelings.

She liked this man, she decided on the spot. And despite the consequences of what she'd done in Tulsa, at least she'd done it with a guy who seemed to be a genuinely nice person.

Just then Bram handed the stranger back his license, said something to him and then watched the man return to the rental car and leave.

Only then did Willow breathe easily again.

But once relief had settled in, she was left with a dilemma.

Particularly when Bram glanced her way and saw them.

There was no ducking out now. Bram would think that was strange, and no doubt so would Tyler.

But Willow would just about rather eat worms than introduce the two of them.

Then Tyler leaned over and murmured, “Shouldn't we say hello?”

Of course they
should.
But he didn't know what he was asking of her or what he was getting himself into. One of her brothers catching her out with a man? And her dressed…well, like a woman? This could be more trouble than the stranger, even if the stranger
was
the person who had set fire to the town hall and broken into the newspaper office.

But what could she say?

“I guess there doesn't seem to be any way out of it,” she said in an unenthusiastic voice.

Bram waited for them to come to him, standing beside his patrol car, one fist on each hip and his eyes narrowing on Tyler as they approached.

“Hi.” Willow greeted him without enthusiasm.

“Hey, Will,” her brother answered, suspicion ringing in his tone as he looked from Tyler to her and back again.

“Tyler, this is my oldest brother, Bram. Bram, this
is Tyler Chadwick. He just moved into the old Harris place.”

Tyler held out his hand.

But Bram didn't rush to take it.

Willow had seen the tactic before. It was a way her brothers let someone she introduced to them know they weren't being immediately accepted, and that they'd better realize the fact.

Not until Tyler might have been considering withdrawing his hand, did Bram actually shake it.

“Tyler,” he said.

“Nice to meet you,” Tyler responded, in what surely must have been a lie.

“Been to the carnival?” Bram asked then, the question sounding as if it were for Willow, though his eyes were still leveled on Tyler.

“As a matter of fact, we were,” Willow said, biting back a Sherlock Holmes gibe because she didn't want to make this situation worse than it was.

In fact, in an attempt to ease some of the tension in any way she could, she said, “That guy you were just with looked like the man you were talking about earlier. The one who's asking about us. Was that him?”

After another long moment, Bram finally took his sights off Tyler. But then, as if he were really seeing Willow for the first time, he didn't answer her question. Instead, surprise registered in the arch of his brows and the widening of his eyes.

“Well, look at you,” he said, without any approval whatsoever in his tone.

And Willow suddenly felt as if she'd forgotten to put on any clothes at all.

But she wasn't about to let that show, so she said, “Thanks,” purposely misconstruing the comment as a compliment, and pretending to take it in stride. She hoped Tyler wouldn't realize her brother couldn't believe she was dressed differently than Bram had ever seen her before. Plus she'd learned from experience that not making a big deal out of something one of her brothers was trying to goad her about was the best way to handle it.

Bram gave her the same hard stare he'd given Tyler, but Willow ignored it and reminded him of what she'd asked before. “The guy you had pulled over? Is he the stranger in town?”

Bram shot Tyler another sideways glance. “Apparently not the only one.”

“Tyler isn't a stranger in town. He's a new resident. And the only thing he's been asking about is opening an account at the store.”

“So you're the one Carl told me about. You and Willow had dinner last night, didn't you?”

“We did,” Tyler confirmed readily. And to Willow's amazement he only sounded amused by this whole thing. He was completely undaunted by her brother. He stood his ground like a rock.

Which might or might not make things harder for him, Willow knew.

So once more she attempted to get her brother's
attention refocused. “The other guy, Bram,” she reminded him a second time. “Who was he?”

After another pause, Bram slid his gaze back to her. “His name is Kenny Randolph. I was out looking for the trailer I'd heard someone was staying in, like I told you, and I spotted the rental car, too. He was just getting in it, so I thought I'd follow him, see what he was up to.”

“And what was he up to?”

“Nothing much. He drove around awhile, then went to the carnival. I pulled him over when he came out, just to get his name. Now that I have it I'll check him out, see if he has a record. Probably put in a call to Rand Colton, see if he knows anything about him.”

“So you do think he's the one who's been nosing around about us?”

“From the accounts I've had, I'd say he is, yeah.”

“Did you ask him what he's doing in Black Arrow?”

“I did. He wasn't forthcoming. In fact, he has a smart mouth. He didn't answer me, just asked if it was a crime to stay around here.”

“That was all you got out of him?”

“After some prodding he said that he was between jobs. Looking for work. I asked what kind of work he did, and all he said was ‘this and that'—with an attitude. And you know there's all kinds of work around here now—farmers need hired hands for the harvest coming up. If the man truly wanted work, he'd have it. Plus he knows me by name. Seemed to want me to
know that. Something is going on with him. I'd bet on it.”

“But without much evidence from the break-in or the fire, you can't really connect him to them,” Willow suggested.

“Or even bring him in for any serious questioning,” Bram confirmed. “But I can keep an eye on him.”

That last was said with a pointed glare at Tyler, obviously warning him that that was exactly what Bram intended to do to him, too.

But when Willow hazarded a glance at Tyler, she found him still unperturbed. In fact, his mouth was curved in a small smile that seemed to say
bring it on.

And again Willow tried to distract her brother.

“Did you tell the rest of the family about the letter and the documents?” she asked, too desperate to consider if she should be mentioning them in front of Tyler.

“Yeah. And I showed them to Thomas,” Bram answered.

“And then you took care of them?”

“Of the documents and the letter. Locked away safe and sound.”