A Mother's Secret. Gabrielle Meyer

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      Joy put her hand over her mouth to try to hide her reaction. Sell the mansion?

      “But—” She swallowed hard. “I—I thought Uncle Morgan told the Asher Corporation that he wished for the children and me to live here after his death.”

      Compassion filled Chase’s eyes, but he didn’t have any right to feel bad. Where was his compassion four years ago when he walked out on her? “My father didn’t say anything about Uncle Morgan’s wishes. And since the corporation owns the home, it’s ours to sell.”

      At the mention of Chase’s father, Joy flinched. Her only experience with the man was when he’d heard that Chase wanted to marry her. She’d been a poor college student who had grown up in one foster home after the next. When Chase’s father had arrived, he confronted Joy while she was cleaning a bathroom and told her she would never be good enough for his son. He accused her of using Chase for his family’s money. While she knelt before a toilet, yellow rubber gloves on her hands, he told her he had given Chase an ultimatum, either he break things off with her, or lose his inheritance. When Chase left, without saying goodbye, Joy realized he had given her up for the money.

      Of all the pain, rejection and disappointment she’d ever felt in her life, no one had demeaned her the way Chase’s father had that day.

      Now Joy paced away from Chase, her mind spinning with everything that had just happened in the last ten minutes, hoping Kinsley and Harper would stay out of sight. She didn’t want him to ask any more questions about the twins. “What does this mean for the children and me? What about Mrs. Thompson? She’s lived here most of her life working for your uncle. With Mr. Thompson gone, she’s all alone in the world, and as far as I know, she doesn’t have a retirement to live on. Where will all of us go?”

      Chase ran his hands through his dark brown hair. It was still as wavy and unruly as ever. How many times had she run her own hands through his hair? The memory of how it felt made her fingers tingle, so she clenched them into fists. It had taken her a long time to get over Chase Asher and she wasn’t about to dredge up those old memories again.

      “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I have to think. I didn’t know you were here. I thought this would be an uncomplicated transaction. I’d just walk in, fix things up a little and oversee the sale.”

      Her heart pounded hard in her chest, but she kept her voice low. “I can’t look my kids in the eyes and tell them they have to move—again. The boys lived in four different foster homes—and I don’t know how many other places—before I brought them here two years ago. I told them I would do everything in my power to make sure they didn’t have to move again.”

      “I don’t know what to say, Joy—”

      The door to the kitchen opened. “Is it you, Chase?” Mrs. Thompson’s round cheeks were pink and her gray hair was pinned in a loose bun at the back of her head. Delight filled her eyes at the sight of Chase. “When Kodi told me Mr. Asher was here, and I heard that rich baritone voice of yours, I could hardly move fast enough to lay eyes on you again.”

      Chase extended his hand and walked toward her. “Hello, Mrs. Thompson.”

      She reached out and pulled him into her plump embrace. “Only a hug will do after four years apart.” She squeezed him, her mouth working in a prayer of thanksgiving, no doubt. Mrs. Thompson made no excuses about her faith, and she was always the first to offer God thanksgiving for his many blessings.

      But Joy didn’t see Chase’s arrival as a blessing. He had come to take away Bee Tree Hill, and, if she wasn’t careful, he could take Kinsley and Harper, as well.

      “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home for Mr. Thompson’s funeral,” Chase said. “I—”

      “No need to apologize,” Mrs. Thompson said. “I received your beautiful card and flowers.” She released him from the hug, but held on to his hands. She wasn’t a very tall woman, so she had to look up at Chase, who stood at least six feet tall.

      In the years since Chase left, his arms had grown more muscular, his shoulders had become broader, and his face had become more handsome, if that was possible. Was he married?

      A quick look at his ring finger revealed no wedding band, but that didn’t mean anything.

      Chase glanced in Joy’s direction and caught her looking him over. She dropped her gaze in embarrassment, wondering what he thought about her after all this time. Did she look more timeworn and stressed? Did the years of being a single mother show on her face? Was she as washed out as she felt? She had worked a half day at Timber Falls Elementary, where she was a social worker, and had come home, thrown on some black yoga pants and a T-shirt and was vacuuming bedrooms when Harper ran upstairs to tell her a stranger was in the house. She must look a fright.

      “What are you doing here, boy?” Mrs. Thompson asked Chase.

      “Unfortunately,” Chase let out a breath, “I came to Bee Tree Hill to get it ready to sell.”

      Mrs. Thompson’s smile fell and she searched his face. “Sell Bee Tree Hill?”

      Chase nodded, his eyebrows tilting together. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Thompson. It’s not my choice. The board met just a week ago and made the decision. I was sent to oversee the details.”

      Mrs. Thompson nodded slowly. “I understand.” She patted Chase’s cheek and winked. “A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps. We’ll let the good Lord figure this one out for us. Now,” she put her hands on her hips, “where will you stay?”

      “I thought I’d be staying here.” He shrugged and glanced at Joy again. “But, under the circumstances, I don’t think it would be best. I can go to a hotel.”

      A hotel as far away from Bee Tree Hill as possible.

      “Nonsense.” Mrs. Thompson grinned. “You can stay above the carriage house, just like your uncle Morgan was doing. He had the place updated just a couple years ago when Joy and the kids moved in here. I cleaned it myself right after he went into the hospital last month, so the place should work just fine for you.”

      Chase searched Joy’s face for her approval. “Would that work?”

      If she had her choice, she would say no. But it wasn’t her place to make that decision. He represented the rightful owners. “That’s fine.”

      He nodded. “I’ll get my things out of the rental car and be out of your way—”

      “No, you won’t.” Mrs. Thompson took СКАЧАТЬ