Page 5

Chapter 4

T he old man met us at the door. Ramsey slipped between his legs and straight into Mere’s waiting arms. She snuggled him and regarded the man with steady eyes. That was my girl, tough New Yorker even at six years old.

“Hey there.” The man ducked his head when he mumbled the words, but before that I’d seen kindness in his pale blue eyes—and a sort of innocence. Up close, I saw that his suit, the color of muddy river water, was frayed at the lapels and sleeves, and so wrinkled it gave the impression of having been run through the washer and dryer instead of dry cleaned. The shirt collar had a yellowish tinge to it and the buttons looked brittle. He’d dressed up for us, clearly, which wasn’t something he regularly did. I liked him immediately.

“A warm welcome to our fair city,” he said, as if he’d been coached. “I’m Major Minette, Dixie Minette’s brother. Well, brother-in-law.”

Dixie Minette, the mayor. Her picture on the Juliana website had shown an elegant, platinum blond woman in her seventies who wore a large gold and diamond broach in the shape of a letter J on the lapel of her jacket. I hadn’t spoken with her, only Bonnie, but Mayor Dixie Minette had signed the official documents about the stipend and sent us a letter handwritten on her elegant mayoral letterhead, welcoming us to Juliana.

“Major’s not a military rank, it’s just my name,” Minette was saying. “Although I did serve in Vietnam. But that was a long time ago.” He shook Peter’s hand then mine, and I noticed his hand trembled.

“Billie Hope,” I said. “My husband, Peter. And this is our daughter, Meredith.”

He ducked his head at each one of us, and Mere nodded back, studying him. She was used to eccentric people—the city was full of them—but still she seemed on her guard.

“Mayor Dixie told me to open up the place for you,” he said. “She said it would need some airing out.”

“Of course. We appreciate it,” Peter said.

Minette noticed Ramsey struggling in Mere’s thin arms. “So what do you think about your new house, Meredith?”

“I’ve never lived in a mansion before.”

I locked eyes with Peter. Our lips twisted in matched suppressed amusement and maybe an admission that we probably would’ve answered in the same way she did. We were all kids here, giddy at our fortune. At the adventure that lay ahead of us.

“It is a big old house,” Minette said. “Not as big as mine, though. I used to get lost in my house when I was little like you.” He looked over at the Subaru and U-Haul. “That all you folks brought with you?”

I realized, for the first time, how small the U-Haul looked. But it was all we needed. From the time we got married and moved into the East Village apartment, Peter and I had only ever had an apartment full of Ikea and whatever furniture I thrifted. And most of that had seen better days. Knowing the house in Juliana was fully furnished, we’d ending up setting out most of our pieces on the sidewalk outside our building. We’d brought our clothes, the few pieces of art we had, and the sets of china and crystal and silverware that Peter had inherited from his Massachusetts grandmother, all monogrammed with a delicate H . Our life’s possessions really didn’t amount to much, I realized.

“We like to travel light,” I said.

“Can I go inside?” Mere asked.

“Go on,” I told her. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Mere slipped through the open door, Ramsey secured safely in her arms. Minette fished for the keys and handed them to me.

“Roofers finished up last week.” Minette beckoned us to follow him, and we all entered the house. “Furnace and AC’s been replaced. The floors could use a redo. Don’t think they’ve been upgraded since old Silas built the place.” He gestured around the wide, gracious, immaculately appointed hallway. “You could get rid of some of this dusty old furniture. There’s a home goods–type place on the square that a Miss Coleman from Chicago just opened up. Got lots of pillows and cheese boards and dish towels with funny sayings on ’em. I bought Mayor Dixie one that says, YOU HAD ME AT MERLOT . ”

He chuckled. Peter and I smiled.

“’Course, there’s always Cleburne Antiques,” Major went on. “It’s down on the square. Mrs. Cleburne used to run it, but the son does now. Jamie. Although you’re chock-full of antiques here.”

“What do you do, Mr. Minette?” I asked him, even though I was starting to feel antsy. I was longing to settle in, maybe shower, and explore our new house. But I should get things off on the right foot with this man. Show I was the neighborly type.

“Oh, this and that.” His eyes slid away from mine. “I’m not married. Never found me the right girl. Always lived with Mayor Dixie and them. Her son, Toby, and her husband, my brother Bobby. He was one of them lady doctors, even though he’s long gone now. My brother Bobby, I mean. Bobby and Mayor Dixie’s son, my nephew, Toby, does carpentry and some remodeling around town. He’s single, too, but I guess you’re out of the runnin’, Mrs. Hope, being that you’re already married.”

I almost laughed from the sheer volume of convoluted information that I’d just received. Major Minette was clearly an odd fellow, but he was endearing.

“That’s right.” I winked at him and patted Peter’s arm.

“Anyways, Toby likes me to look after Mayor Dixie’s place, so she has more time for city business. I keep up with repairs, cut the lawn, trim the hedges, and look after her roses. She don’t like to pay nobody to do that. She likes how I do it.”

I nodded. “I appreciate you meeting us, Mr. Minette.”

“Call me Major.” He smiled shyly. “Mayor Dixie wanted to have everybody out here for you, waving flags and serving chicken salad and tea. Either that or she wanted a parade. She likes a to-do.”

“That was nice of her,” Peter said.

“Ox and James told her to hold off. Give you folks a minute to get settled in.”

Ox must be Oxford Dalzell. And James was the Cleburne who owned the antique shop. It was going to be a challenge keeping all these families straight.

“Mayor Dixie sent me with a basket full of food to get you started. I set it in the kitchen. There’s dinner for tonight and some of her preserves. Also, some staples she thought you might need.”

“Thank you,” I said, hoping this was the end of it.

But Major wasn’t done. “Flour and sugar, ketchup and mustard, salt and pepper, what have you. Now, just so you’ve been warned . . . she’s going to want to introduce you all around town soon as you’re settled. To the old-timers and the newcomers, too. My sister-in-law loves this town, and she doesn’t take lightly what kind of commitment you folks are making, uprooting your life in New York and moving down here. She’s grateful. And I am, too. We hope you’ll agree with us what a rare and special place Juliana truly is. Gentle Juliana . . .” His pink, mottled skin creased around his eyes and mouth, and for a moment I thought he was going to cry.

I took his hand. He clutched mine with his two big, withered bear paws. The skin was thin and dry, and I could feel the corded veins beneath. “Tell your sister-in-law thank you, Major, and I look forward to meeting everyone.” I withdrew my hands. Waited for him to get the message.

He stared off into space, then snapped papery fingers. “There was something I didn’t want to forget. Something Mayor Dixie said I ought to mention to you.”

My throat tightened the slightest bit. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh no, no problem. It’s just . . .” He rubbed his jaw and laughed nervously. “Lordy, why can’t I remember anything these days . . . ?” He went silent for a moment, then suddenly brightened. “I got it. There’s a well on the property, near the bluff on the property line. Not the well you get your water from, but another one.”

Minette planted both hands on his wrinkly suit coat just where his hips should be and ambled down the length of the porch. Peter and I exchanged tight looks then followed. Minette gazed out over the western end of the property, over the rolling fields and the clumps of trees. The sun was setting now, putting on a glorious orange and pink and lavender show. He stretched a shaky hand out in the general direction of the setting sun, but I couldn’t really tell what he was pointing at.

“I believe Old Silas Dalzell dug it when he dug the one for the house, probably for crops or livestock or something. It’s way over yonder toward the bluff, before you get to the creek. When George Davenport moved into the place, he didn’t have any cows or nothing so he didn’t use the old well, but he never properly capped it either. You know, with a concrete slab so nobody would accidentally fall in.”

I glanced over at Peter, my throat constricting. He looked back at me, and I could tell he knew what I was thinking. Mere? Around an open well? Had we put her in a compromising, dangerous position in our new home?

“No one mentioned anything about a well,” I said. “I don’t remember seeing anything about it in the contract.”

Minette’s face flushed, and he seemed at a loss for words. “Oh well. I don’t much look at contracts. That’s my sister’s area.”

“We’ll be careful,” said Peter, his tone gentle but firm. “In the meantime, we’d appreciate it if you’d send someone out in the next few days to get it taken care of.”

Major looked dubious. “Well, I’d have to talk to Mayor Dixie.”

Peter squinted his eyes, and I felt the slightest twinge of annoyance. And then annoyance at my own annoyance. Even if no one had mentioned the well, it wasn’t the end of the world. We were getting this vast property for a pittance. We really had nothing to complain about. I needed to just downshift. This wasn’t New York. It wouldn’t help matters for me to come out swinging.

I smiled at Major. “It’s just our daughter. We wouldn’t want her accidentally happening upon it and, you know, falling in.”

“Oh, dear me, no.” Major frowned. “That would be . . . no. No, we wouldn’t want that at all. Not at all.”

“All right. Outstanding. You’ll talk to Mayor Dixie and get somebody out here, right away. We’ll all stay close to the house until it’s repaired.”

Peter glanced at me. I widened my eyes in response. It’s fine. Minette was already hobbling down the front steps, tapping his fingers on the banister in an agitated manner.

“I’m fixing to go down there right now,” he said. “Right to Mayor Dixie’s office and tell her she’s got to find somebody who will take care of it.”

I turned back to tell Peter it was fine, but he was already heading back inside, probably to check on Mere. To make sure our daughter hadn’t wandered out the back door and in the direction of the mysterious, open well that nobody had told us about.