The Magnolia Inn(11)

The person who was interested in the place might not finalize a deal on only half. If he backed out, she decided that she was going to open for business, no matter what. She’d take a month to get the place in shape, do the spring cleaning like Aunt Sugar did every year, and take reservations starting the first of February. If she lived on a shoestring, maybe she could save enough to hire someone to remodel one room at a time that way.

Now that she had a plan, even if it wasn’t a good one, she was eager to get started, but seven o’clock at night wasn’t the time to start washing woodwork. She grabbed a quilt from the back of the sofa and carried it outside. Wrapping it around her body like a long shawl, she sat down on the porch swing and set it to moving with her foot. Within minutes she was second-guessing herself about selling her half. A picture of Aunt Sugar’s smile flashed through her mind.

Even if she could have more money than she’d ever had at one time and be on her way to a new life—maybe down near Lafayette, where she still had beaucoup cousins—it wasn’t going to happen. She’d made up her mind, and she was going to stay focused on moving forward with the plan.

A big, fluffy white cat hopped up on the swing with her and laid a paw on her leg. It was friendly enough that Jolene wondered if it belonged there and Aunt Sugar had just forgotten to mention it in her excitement to leave the day before.

“Well, what’s your name, pretty thing?” Jolene asked.

“Sassy is her name,” a deep voice said right behind her.

Startled, Jolene whipped around so fast that she almost fell off the swing. “Who are you, and what are you doin’ here?”

Now is that any way to act toward a potential customer? Aunt Sugar’s voice popped into her head. He might stay a week, and you’d make enough money to pay the electric bill.

“Right friendly, ain’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from the man’s tone.

“I’m sorry. You scared me. Is this your cat? How did you get here?”

“Drove my truck right up the lane and parked my trailer out in that little clearing by the bayou.” His deep drawl left no doubt that he was definitely from Texas. He topped six feet easily in his well-worn cowboy boots. His hair was dark, and the porch light lit up his piercing blue eyes.

“We don’t have a trailer park.” How had he gotten past the house without her hearing the truck?

“Nope, don’t reckon you do.” He sat down on the porch step, and the cat hopped off the swing and went to curl up in his lap.

“Then what are you doing here?” she asked again. “Would you like to rent a room?”

“Nope, but I wouldn’t mind a tour of the house,” he said.

“Why would I do that?” Her fear radar shot up several notches.

“Because, honey, I’m Tucker Malone, and I own half of this place now—or at least I will on Friday when I sign the papers.”





Chapter Four

Tucker had planned on knocking on the door like a gentleman, introducing himself and telling the lady why he was there, but Sassy kind of beat him to the punch. Now Jolene was staring at him like he had horns on his head and maybe a long spiky tail. She was downright cute with those big blue eyes and blonde hair. With that small waist and those curvy hips, most men would be drooling over her.

“I thought maybe Belinda would have told you that Reuben said I could go ahead and move in today. My trailer rent is up tomorrow, so I took your cousin up on staying,” he explained.

She stood up and paced to the other end of the porch, the quilt dragging behind her. She whipped it around as she turned. “She called, but there was no talk of you moving in. But I guess since you own half this place, you’ve got the right to do what you want.”

“I thought maybe this first little while I’d just hook up to the electricity and stay in my trailer,” he said.

His detective training on the Dallas PD kicked in as he watched her pace nervously across the porch. She was short, maybe an inch or two over five feet tall, and soaking wet she might hit 120 pounds. Her slightly pointed chin didn’t detract from her delicate features. Even with no makeup she was a looker—someone he might have hit on in a bar before he settled down with Melanie.

“That’s crazy. What would you use for a bathroom?” She continued flipping that quilt around every time she turned to pace to the other end of the porch. “The house is warm, even if it’s shabby right now. We need to go inside out of the cold and talk if we’re going to be partners.”

“What’s there to talk about? We both know it needs to be remodeled, so we’ll go halves on everything. Close it down until spring and have a grand opening when everything is done,” he said.

She eased down on the step beside him and put her head in her hands. “I have about a hundred dollars in my checking account. I hope you have a little more than that, or else your credit is good enough to get a loan.”

“Sweet Jesus!” he gasped.

“Here’s what I offered Reuben. Hear me out, okay?” She started talking before he could even answer and finished with, “Whether you have the money or you can get a loan, we can put it all in a contract so you won’t feel like I’m taking advantage. I’m willing to work right beside you until we get the place back in shape. I can paint, sand, or do anything if you’ll only show me how. The Realtor told me that you are a crackerjack carpenter.”