Wishes for Tomorrow: Westmoreland's Way

He glanced up at Pam. “Mind if I take a look at this?”

“No, I don’t mind. In fact, there’s a letter inside.”

He lifted a brow as he opened the journal and, sure enough, a letter whose envelope had turned yellow, lay on the front page. The name on the envelope was still legible. It simply said Westmoreland. He glanced back over at her.

“Like I said, although the trunk was off limits, I couldn’t help but snoop that one time. That’s how I knew about that letter.”

Dillon couldn’t hide his smile as he opened the sealed letter. It read, “Whomever comes to get Raphel’s belongings just needs to know that he was a good and decent man and I don’t blame him for leaving and taking Portia with him.”

It had been signed by Pam’s great-grandfather Jay. Dillon put the letter back in the envelope and glanced up at Pam. “This is all very confusing. Think you can shed some light on it?”

She shook her head. “No, sorry. For a man not to hold any animosity against the man that took his wife is strange. Perhaps Raphel did Jay a favor if he didn’t want to be married to her anyway. But that theory is really stretching it a bit. A man’s wife is a man’s wife, and Portia had been Jay’s wife.”

“And what about Lila Elms?”

She shrugged. “I can’t tell you anything about her, other than they must have parted ways between Atlanta and here, because from all I’ve heard when Raphel arrived in Gamble he was a single man.”

She glanced at her watch. “There are a few phone calls that I need to make, so I’m going to leave you for a while. Take as much time as you like up here, and if you need me for any reason, I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen.”

“All right.”

She moved toward the attic door.

“Pamela?”

She glanced back around. “Yes?”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

She smiled back. “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

Dillon released a deep breath the moment Pam left, closing the attic door behind her. Pamela Novak was a temptation he had best leave alone. All the while she had been in this room, he had tried keeping the conversation going, anything to suppress the desires that had run rampant through him.

What was there about her that ruffled his senses every time she was within ten feet of him? What was there about her that made a number of unnamed and undefined sensations run through him? It had been hard as hell to maintain his composure and control around her.

Perhaps his dilemma had to do with her understanding of his need to delve into his family’s history, his desire to know as much about Raphel Westmoreland as he could find out. Even some of his siblings and cousins didn’t understand what was driving him, although they did support him. He appreciated them for it, but support and understanding were two different things.

However, he had a gut feeling Pamela did understand. She not only understood but was willing to help him any way she could...even if it meant stirring her fiancé’s ire.

Deciding he needed to do what he’d come to Gamble to do, he pulled a chair out of a corner and placed it in front of the trunk. Picking up Jay Novak’s journal, he began reading.

Chapter 4

Pam glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Dillon had been up in the attic for over an hour, and she couldn’t help but wonder how things were going. More than once she’d thought about going up to find out but had talked herself out of it. Instead she got busy looking over scripts for new plays her students had submitted.

The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts and she had a feeling who the caller was without bothering to look at caller ID. Sighing deeply, she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“How are you, Pamela? This is Fletcher.”

“I’m fine, Fletcher. How are things in Laramie?”

“They are fine, but I received a call and I’m going to have to leave here and go to Montana and check on a store there. A massive snowstorm caused a power failure that lasted a couple of days, and a lot of our refrigerated items were destroyed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So am I. That means I’ll be flying to Montana to meet with the insurance company representative. It may take a few days and I might not be back until the end of the week.”

She could lie and say she was sorry to hear that, but she really wasn’t. She had felt the two of them needed space and this was a way she could get it. Since agreeing to marry him, he’d made it a point to see her practically every day.

“You can make me happy and come spend some time with me here.” His words intruded into her thoughts. The two of them hadn’t slept together. Although he had brought up the idea several times, she had avoided the issue with him.

“Thanks for the invite, but I have a lot to do here. Besides, I need to be here for my sisters.”

She didn’t have to see him to know his jaw was probably tight from anger right now. This was not the first time he had tried to talk her into going out of town with him since they’d become engaged.

He didn’t say anything for a moment and when he did speak again, she was not surprised by his change in subject. “And where is Westmoreland? Did he show up today?”

She had no reason to lie. “Yes, he showed up. In fact, he’s still here, upstairs in the attic going through some things.”

“Why couldn’t he take the stuff with him and go through it back at the hotel?”

Fletcher’s tone, as well as his words, annoyed her. “I saw no reason for him to take anything back to the hotel. I regret you evidently have a problem with it.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Pamela,” he said after a brief pause. “I still feel you don’t know the man well enough to be there alone with him.”

“Then I guess you just need to chalk it up as bad judgment on my part. Goodbye, Fletcher.”

Without waiting for him to say anything else, she hung up the phone. He would fume for a few hours and then he would call her back later and apologize once he realized just how controlling he’d acted.

Pam eased back to the table and picked up the papers once again, determined to tuck Fletcher and his attitude away until later. She had agreed to marry him and she would marry him, since her sisters’ futures and not losing her family home meant everything to her.

* * *

Dillon closed the journal and stood to stretch his legs. He was used to being dressed in a business suit every day, instead of casual jeans and a shirt. That morning he had checked in with Ted Boston, his business manager, to see how things were going at his real estate firm and, not surprisingly, Ted had everything under control. He had made his firm into a billion-dollar company with hard work and by hiring the right people to work for him.

He glanced at his watch, finding it hard to believe that two hours had passed already. He looked down at the journal. At least part of his curiosity had been satisfied as to what had happened to Lila, the wife of the preacher from Georgia.

According to what Raphel had shared with Jay, the old preacher had been abusing his young wife. Church members had turned their heads with the mind-set that what went on behind a married couple’s closed doors was their business, especially when it involved a preacher.

Evidently, Raphel hadn’t seen it that way. He had come up with a plan to rescue Lila from the clutches of the abusive preacher—a plan his family had not supported. After taking Lila as far away as Texas, Raphel had helped her get established in the small Texas town of Copperhead, on the outskirts of Austin. Raphel had been her protector, never her lover, and before moving on he had purchased a small tract of land and given it to her to make a new beginning for herself.

Dillon smiled, thinking, at least in the case of Lila, Raphel had been a wife saver and not a wife stealer. Given the woman’s situation, Dillon figured he would have done the same thing. He’d discovered that when it came to the opposite sex, Westmoreland men had this ingrained sense of protection. He just regretted that Raphel had severed ties with his family.

At that moment Dillon’s stomach started to growl, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning and it was afternoon already. It was time for him to head back over to the hotel.

* * *