Heart of Stone

“Near Savannah, right?” Rock said, nodding.

“Yes, centered between a tributary of the Savannah River and a marsh and pond,” Tara told him. “Chad always wanted to build a house out there, a weekend retreat. Of course, that can’t happen now, so I decided to sell the land.”

“And Stone wants to buy it?” Rock guessed, his vivid blue eyes studying her face.

“Yes. About a month ago, I got a nibble on the land, from a man named Griffin Smith. He named a price, but I held off. I thought I could get more money for the land.”

“But you can’t?”

She shook her head, her gaze on Rock. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I held out as long as I could, but the day of the wedding I got a call confirming a face-to-face meeting with the prospective buyer, the man Griffin Smith represented—a man who had been very secretive and hard to pin down.”

“My brother,” Rock said, the statement confirming his resentment toward Stone. “That’s so like Stone.”

Tara nodded. “I had no idea I was dealing with Stone, not even at the wedding. He never indicated it, but he recognized who I was as soon as I told him my name.” Lowering her gaze, she added, “Of course, he didn’t bother telling me who he was, until the meeting the day after the wedding.” In his defense, and against her better judgment, she said, “He didn’t want to disrupt the wedding.”

Rock snorted, rolled a hand down his face. “He didn’t want to make a scene? I doubt that. More like he didn’t want us to find out what he was up to.”

“Now, Rock—” Eloise began, only to have her son hold up a hand.

“I know, Mother, I know. Stone has the best of intentions.”

Tara shot her husband a warning look, then placed her bread into a baking pan. “So…Stone and you are trying to reach some sort of agreement about the land, Tara?”