What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(57)

“Ms. Harlow? This is Kel. Do you have time for me this morning?”

“Oh—I stood you up yesterday, didn’t I?” How rude of her. She’d dashed out of the house and spent the best part of the morning in Piggly Wiggly, trying to put together a decent meal for Jase.

She glanced at the wall clock. “Um, how about now? I should be free for a while yet.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right over.”

*



He was wearing a faded UCLA tee with his jeans today.

How in the world had this sweetheart ended up in Hollywood? Sure, he was tall, probably over six feet, but he didn’t look tall, maybe because she had gotten used to Jase’s six five. Or maybe because of his soft voice and sweet smile. If she’d had a brother, she would have wanted him to be just like Kel.

He smiled a greeting, wiped his feet on the doormat, and stepped over the threshold. “I really appreciate you letting me see Kinkaid House. I’m trying to get a feel for Garner’s Crossing and Benjamin Franklin Chapman.”

They walked down the hall to the drawing room. “You’re a set designer?”

He paused and gave her another one of his soft smiles. “Didn’t Pendleton tell you? I’m an actor. I’ll be playing Benjamin.”

“Erasmus? But he…” She’d read Swaim’s book too, and how could she tell this nice young man that he was the wrong type to play her great-grandfather? Erasmus was not just a rascal, but a strong-willed opportunist, even a bit of a villain.

Kel looked around the room slowly, as if soaking in the antique atmosphere, then turned to her, still smiling.

“Pen said there was some bad feeling in town about the book, but I promise you I’ll try to portray Benjamin—Erasmus—in a positive light. He was quite multifaceted, from what I’ve read, and I’ll try to show all sides of him.”

“I’m sure you will.” Including the quadroon mistress and the brothel down near the railroad tracks?

He studied the dark rectangles on the wall. “You’ve removed several paintings recently.”

“Yes, I’ll probably relocate to South Texas, so I’ve put them in storage while I sell the house.” Actually, she’d sold them last year to pay for the cost of Mama’s interment.

“Do you have any family pictures?”

“They’re in the den. I’ll show you.” She led him across the hall and, probably trying to make up for yesterday, gave him an extensive guided tour of the old tintypes and photographs set around on the bookshelves.

“So these are Benjamin’s wives,” he said, picking up their framed photos. “Annabel and Caroline.”

“Adeline and Ida Mae,” Laurel corrected.

Kel nodded. “I wonder which one he liked best?”

Laurel edged away from him.

As if sensing her discomfort, Kel replaced the photos in the bookcase and gave her a guileless look and another of his sweet smiles. “May I see the kitchen with the round oak table?”

“Yes, of—of course.” She led him quickly through the kitchen, then to the dining room, where he gazed at her portrait and smiled.

As they moved back into the hall, he looked at his watch. “I’d better go now. I expect your boyfriend will be back for lunch soon.”

Heat rushed to her face. “How did you know?”

“Pendleton. He’s got a telescope in that upstairs room and keeps track of the comings and goings in the neighborhood. Did you know that Dolph Overton Jr. visits Phyllis Pfluger first thing in the morning after her husband leaves for the office?”

*



Laurel returned to the kitchen and poured the remains of her cold coffee into the sink.

So now she’d met a movie actor. She didn’t know his last name, though, and his first name didn’t ring any bells. He seemed vaguely familiar, but she didn’t keep up with show folks.

Jase entered just as she turned on the water to rinse out her mug.

He didn’t seem as beat as yesterday, but it was obvious the hundred-degree weather had taken its toll. His face was grimy, and there were damp rings under his arms of his short-sleeved knit shirt.

“Hiya, hon. Cold water in the fridge?”

“Do we live south of the Mason-Dixon Line?” She took the plastic container from the refrigerator and poured him a paper cup of water.

“Mmmmm.” His eyes closed as the cool liquid ran down his throat. “Nectar of the gods.”

“More like product of Town Lake.” She shoved the Retriever across the counter toward him. “You might be interested in this. Sawyer is calling for the old high school to be turned into a history museum.”

“Yeah, I heard about it from Rafe McAllister.” He picked up the paper and carried it to the table. “I haven’t read a Retriever in years.”

Laurel sat down across from him. “Rafe McAllister? How do you know Rafe? He was homeschooled and didn’t attend Bosque Bend High until just before it was closed down. The only time I met him was when he and his brother needed an accompanist for a talent show they were putting together for a Fourth of July celebration.”

“He designed my house while he was working for his uncle’s architectural firm in Dallas. I’d lost track of him until I ran into him in town this morning, but he’s running the C Bar M now.”