Silver River Secrets

She found a hand truck, and they sorted the boxes, transferring those to the basement first. “I can take the ones to her apartment,” she told him.

“I got ’em.” He kept a firm grip on the hand truck. “You lead the way.”

“But—”

He waved her on ahead of him.

Okay, she’d stop him at the door to the apartment.

But when they reached the door and she opened it, he swept by her, pushing the truck inside.

“That you, Lacey?” her grandmother called from the apartment’s interior.

“Yes, it’s me.” She followed on Rory’s heels, unable to squeeze ahead of him in the kitchenette’s close quarters.

“Rory Dalton? Is that you?” she heard her grandmother exclaim.

“Yes, it is, Mrs. Whitfield.”

Lacey finally reached the living room. Her grandmother sat in her wheelchair staring at Rory. “What are you doing here?”

Surprisingly, Gram’s voice held more curiosity than the anger Lacey expected.

Rory propped his foot on one of the truck’s wheels. “I just happened to be passing by your old apartment and saw Lacey loading up in the parking lot and stopped to help.”

Gram slowly shook her head. “You always were the helper. Why, just last week, I was on the shopping bus, and I saw you take Agnes Crawley’s arm and walk her across Main Street.”

Rory grinned. “Aggie’d just given up her crutches after a broken ankle, and she wasn’t too steady yet. But where do you want these?”

Gram looked around. “Ah, over in that corner.” She pointed to a space near the bedroom door.

Lacey helped Rory unload the boxes. The sooner they completed the task, the sooner he could leave.

“So, how’re you doing, Mrs. Whitfield?” he asked when the last container had been stowed away.

“Pretty good. But I’ll be a lot better when I can walk again.”

“I hear you on that.”

“Well, thanks for your help today, Rory,” Lacey said stiffly. “You can put the hand truck back by the door on your way out.”

“Now, wait, Lacey.” Gram held up a hand. “Least we can do is offer Rory a cup of tea.”

Rory shook his head. “No tea, thanks, but I’d go for a glass of cold water. That sun’s blazing today.”

Gram turned to Lacey. “There’s a pitcher of water in the fridge.”

Lacey tried to catch Rory’s eye to glare at him, but he was gazing around the apartment. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

“Sit,” Gram told Rory, pointing to an overstuffed chair across from her.

Rory sat, leaning back, settling in. He gazed around. “Nice place you got here.”

“I like it,” Gram said. “What’re you up to these days?”

“My car shop. Working for A.J.”

Lacey returned to the living room with the glass of water and handed it to Rory. When he looked up, she got in her glare. He seemed not to notice, smiling as he accepted the water. “Thanks so much.” He took a long swallow. “Ah, that hits the spot.”

“Would you like something, Gram?” Lacey asked.

Gram shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Had tea a while ago with my next-door neighbor.”

No one said anything. Lacey shifted from one foot to the other. Gram smoothed her skirt. Rory drank his water.

Then he cleared his throat and sat forward. “I drove by your old farm the other day...”

“Rory—” Lacey began.

Gram interrupted. “The other day? I ’spect you drive by it quite often, being it’s on the highway to Milton.”

“True enough,” Rory said. “Anyway, it occurred to me what a fine piece of property you have there.”

“If you’re about to make me an offer, save your breath. I’ve told your grandfather time and again I won’t sell. There’s plenty of land around here for him to play with. He doesn’t need mine.”

“Would you consider selling to me?”

“You? Why would you want the place? Never mind, it don’t matter. It’s not for sale. Never will be.”

“I just thought that now you’re living here, you might find a use for the money.” He named a sum.

Lacey sucked in a breath.

Gram dropped her jaw. “That much?”

Rory smiled. “That much.”

Gram frowned and turned away to gaze out the patio door. Long moments passed. Lacey’s stomach clenched. Should she tell Rory to leave? She’d been itching to since he’d pushed his way in. She was about to speak up when Gram turned back to them. Her eyes were misty.

“No amount of money will make me change my mind, Rory. I don’t expect you to understand, but—” She dug into her blouse pocket and pulled out a tissue.

Lacey ran to Gram’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Gram.” She looked up at Rory. “We need you to leave. Now.”

Rory stood. “Of course. I didn’t mean to upset you, Mrs. Whitfield... I thought my offer would interest you.”

“Enough.” Lacey grabbed the glass from his hand. “Leave the hand truck. I’ll take it back myself.”

Rory strode to the truck, grasped the handle and wheeled it into the kitchen. “Goodbye, Mrs. Whitfield.”