The Backup Plan

“And I’m not?”

“You play a form of roulette with car bombs and rebel gunmen,” Maggie replied. “I’d say that qualifies you for a man who likes living on the edge.”

Dinah sighed. Though no one here knew it, she’d fallen for a man like that, a man who courted real danger every day. She’d wound up with a broken heart. Of course, there was a vast difference between physical danger and the emotional minefield a woman would have to tiptoe through with Cord. Even so, Dinah wanted no part of it.

“I’ve had it with risk-taking,” she told her friend emphatically. “I think Bobby’s definitely the way to go.”

“But you haven’t caught up with him yet?”

“No. I asked Cord to have him call me, but so far I haven’t heard a word.”

“And you haven’t gone chasing after him?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe that should tell you something,” Maggie suggested gently.

“What? That Cord didn’t pass on the message?”

“That, or maybe you don’t care enough to make the effort. Then, again, maybe it means that Bobby’s moved on with his life. It has been ten years. Even an eternal optimist can get tired of waiting around after that long.”

Dinah studied Maggie. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“Just that I don’t want you to be setting yourself up for disappointment if Bobby doesn’t fall right in with your plans.”

That was definitely something Dinah hadn’t considered. Maybe she really was a self-absorbed idiot to think he’d been waiting for her all this time. Their deal had merely been that they’d get together, if they happened to be available.

“You think he won’t?” she asked Maggie.

“I can’t say. That’s up to him.”

Dinah had a feeling there was something that Maggie was deliberately keeping from her. She usually wasn’t so circumspect. “If you know something you think I should know, tell me,” she commanded.

Maggie shook her head. “Not a chance. This is between you and Bobby.” She grinned. “And maybe Cordell. Something tells me he’s going to figure in this before all is said and done.”

“You are turning out to be almost as exasperating as he was,” Dinah accused lightly. “Doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though. Can we have dinner soon?”

“My calendar’s disgustingly open. Just tell me when,” Maggie said. “Now I’d better get back to work before my employees stage a rebellion. The last time I took a long lunch they sold a valuable painting at half price. Said they couldn’t find a sticker on it, so they negotiated. They claimed their blood sugar had dropped so low, they forgot about the price list we keep in the file.”

Dinah chuckled at what was most likely no exaggeration. “I promise I’ll come by to see this gallery of yours in a day or two and we’ll schedule dinner.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Maggie ordered. “Or I’ll come looking for you.”

“It’s good to see you, Maggie. I’ve missed you,” Dinah said, giving her friend a fierce hug.

“Missed you more.”

Dinah stood on the sidewalk in front of Maggie’s place and watched her friend head off down the street to her successful gallery. She looked purposeful and confident, two traits Dinah wondered if she’d ever feel again.

Covington Plantation was a labor of love for Cord. Putting up with the board members and fighting for every penny to do the job right took more patience than waiting for the first cool breeze of fall, but it was going to be worth it to see this grand old house restored to its former glory.

For a kid who’d grown up in a place that was little more than a run-down shack, a house like this represented everything his home hadn’t been. It was solid and spoke of proud ancestors. His own ancestors had been unremarkable and there had been nothing dependable about the two people who’d raised him and Bobby. They’d contributed genes and not much else. It was the charity of others that had given him and Bobby a chance at a better life. As much as it had grated to accept the private-school tuition, the church handouts, the free lunches, they’d swallowed their pride and done it.

Bobby had fit in better than Cord. Even as a kid, he’d had an ingratiating way about him, while Cord had radiated little better than grudging tolerance for those who’d extended a helping hand. He’d seethed with ungracious resentment and unwarranted pride, but he had managed to keep it under wraps for Bobby’s sake and ultimately for his own.

He felt a whole lot better about it now, knowing that he had the respect of some of those same people who’d seen helping him and Bobby as their ticket into heaven. With the wisdom of age, Cord was just realizing that some of those folks were simply being generous because they’d seen two kids in trouble. They had honestly wanted to help put them on the right track.

It was a matter of pride, though, that he’d earned their respect, that they’d turned to him when they were ready to proceed with the Covington Plantation renovation. He hadn’t had to beg for the chance to bid, though he might have done it just for the opportunity to be a part of saving the house. As a kid he’d liked riding his bike out here.

He liked the stately old plantation house best early in the morning with the sun just starting to filter through the ancient trees and the sound of the birds breaking the silence. Sometimes as a boy, he’d sat on the front steps with a cold Coke in his hand and imagined he could hear the squabbles coming from the family inside or the distant singing of slaves working in the rice fields. Being here spoke to him of the past more clearly than any history teacher ever had.

He’d never want to go back to that sad time period, but now that he was all grown up, he liked knowing that he could preserve a little piece of it as a reminder of another era. More than that, he liked saving structures that had been meant to last, restoring their beauty and craftsmanship for future generations to enjoy.

Usually this half hour before his crew arrived was a tranquil time, but ever since Dinah Davis had come by the house in search of Bobby, there hadn’t been a peaceful moment in his life. That woman had gotten under his skin, just as she had years ago. A part of him wanted to put her in her place. Another part—the very male part of him—wanted to kiss that uppity expression off her face. He’d struggled with the same dilemma as far back as he could remember.

Okay, maybe not quite as far back as elementary school, but it had definitely crossed his mind starting with puberty. Even then he’d somehow known he would be better for her than Bobby, who’d followed her around like an adoring puppy. When he couldn’t stand his brother’s attitude a minute longer, he’d done something about it, something that had almost caused a permanent rift with his brother and had left Dinah hating his guts.

When his cell phone rang, he glanced at the caller ID and suffered a pang of remorse.

“Hey, Bobby,” he said, stuffing down the faint trace of guilt he felt over keeping his mouth shut about Dinah’s return. What was a little guilty silence, when the end result would be his brother’s happiness? “How’s it going in Atlanta?”

“We’re on schedule and under budget,” Bobby announced. “Which you would know if you read the reports I fax over there every damn day.”

Cord grinned. He enjoyed keeping up the pretense that he ignored all Bobby’s carefully detailed paperwork. It drove his brother nuts. “I believe I swept up a whole bagful of those reports just the other day. Summarize for me.”

Bobby did just that in tedious detail.

“Sounds like everything’s under control, then. You’re doing great work,” Cord praised. “That project’s going to be a real showcase for us and you deserve all the credit.”

The truth was that they made a great team. Bobby knew the construction trade almost as well as Cord did, but while Cord loved working with his hands and considered himself a skilled craftsman, Bobby excelled at staying on top of the details, working out cost projections and smooth-talking their backers. He was a natural for the Atlanta renovation project.

The Atlanta development was the most ambitious they’d done so far, encompassing an entire section of old buildings that had been destined for a wrecker’s ball until Bobby and Cord had put together a proposal and bid on the property. When it was finished, there would be shops, restaurants and apartments in high-ceilinged old buildings with glowing hardwood floors, beautiful crown molding and a dozen other historic touches rarely found in this day and age. They and their backers stood to triple their investment, to say nothing of what the finished project would do to move them into the ranks of the elite historical preservationists in the country.

Suddenly Cord recalled one of the first things Bobby had said. “Just how far ahead of schedule are you?”

“A few weeks. I’ll be back home before you know it, bro. I’ve got to tell you, I can’t wait. Living in a hotel room is getting on my nerves. I was thinking I might drive over this weekend. It would give us a chance to go over those other projects we’ve got lined up. We need to think about assigning someone to oversee them. There’s too much work for us to do it ourselves.”

Cord flinched. “No rush on that,” he said at once. “Just concentrate on wrapping things up in Atlanta. I’ve got everything here under control.”

“You still on speaking terms with the board at Covington?” Bobby asked worriedly.

Cord laughed. “Haven’t insulted anybody in a couple of days now, as a matter of fact.” Unless he took into account Dinah, but that was definitely not something he cared to share.

“You sure about that?” Bobby asked, his skepticism plain. “I know there was a big meeting this week and I know how you hate that kind of thing.” “We all survived it.”

“Any ruffled feathers need smoothing over?”

“None,” Cord assured him. “I was on my best behavior. I swear it.”