Chapter 5
Catherine
I had been summoned.
Not a jury summons. That would have been much more pleasant. I loved jury duty. Getting to sit in a courthouse and listen to someone’s personal drama? Count me in.
No. I had been summoned to the Wilder Estate. I would have been excited about it had the invitation come from Hallie through a text the way it usually did. But this one had come from the Estate with a capital E, which was just…unnerving.
Sure, I could strut around on stage in a bikini, but being asked to “enjoy lunch” at the estate was a different beast entirely.
My car bumped and bobbed as I turned off the main road and rolled through the gilded gates.
Pristine white fences lined the lane, snaking up and down rolling hills.
The sky was a crisp blue with fluffy white clouds floating over the mountains.
The gentle rise and fall of the earth dipped even lower, leveling into flat plains that had been partitioned off.
Show jumpers practiced with different obstacles and fences. The outdoor arena had barrels set up today as a rider practiced tight turns in a cloverleaf pattern.
Mason was outside on a tractor, grading down the racetrack with new dirt and sand. Levi’s truck was parked outside the stables. The logo of his farrier business glinted in the noon sun. No doubt, he had a packed day doing hoof care for all the horses that trained at the estate.
With the exception of the new gravestone in the rose garden, it was almost like Walt’s funeral had never happened.
Life moved on much faster than it was supposed to.
I passed the equine facilities and crested a hill as the estate house came into view. A fancy little car I didn’t recognize was parked in the circular drive, right in front of the steps that led to the front door.
Maybe it was Hayes’s?
As I passed the house, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Lewis sliding into it.
At least he’s leaving.
I circled the house and parked around back beside Hallie’s car and a monstrous SUV that sported Maryland tags.
That must be Hayes’s. I could picture him easing out from behind the wheel with those big money shades hiding his ever-assessing gaze.
I grabbed the iced coffee from the cup holder and the black-and-white cow-print treat bag I had tossed into the passenger seat, then hopped out and headed for the kitchen door.
Sure, I had received a formal invitation to have lunch at the estate, but using the front door would have just been weird. Only guests did that.
I slipped inside and found Hallie in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on magazine-worthy salads.
She looked over her shoulder at the sound of the door. “Shit. Is it noon already?”
“Nope,” I said as I closed the door with the toe of my high heel. “I’m early, and I come bearing gifts.”
Hallie spotted the iced coffee and treat bag from the Moo Brew in my hands. “Bless you. I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head cut off, and my morning coffee wore off hours ago.”
She dried her hands and reached for the coffee, but I held it just out of her grasp.
“Ah ah ah.” I wiggled the cup, making the ice rattle around. “This is a bribe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “A bribe for what?”
“For information on what the hell I’m doing here,” I whispered, just in case Hayes was within earshot. “And why you sent a card in the mail to invite me to lunch instead of texting me like a normal person.”
“Anyone could have sent that card,” Hallie said as she reached for the coffee. “It came from the estate.”
I held it farther away. “You are the estate. I know your handwriting.” I glanced down at one of the many sheath dresses I kept in rotation for public events.
Today’s pale blue dress and nude heels were a sharp contrast to the charcoal black I had worn just a week ago, but the pearls that circled my throat and dotted my ears were the same.
Hallie countered by crossing her arms. “I’m curious why you RSVP’d without knowing why you were invited.”
“Because eating here means you’re cooking and I’d be an idiot to turn that down.” I relented and handed over the coffee and the cow-print treat bag. “Who all’s coming?” I asked as I washed up, dried my hands, and assessed what she was working on so I could jump in to help.
But there were only two plates of salad.
A tiny plate of appetizers.
And two plates that were awaiting whatever was being served for the main course.
“Everyone’s here,” Hallie said cryptically as she drizzled a homemade vinaigrette over the greens. She swatted my hand away when I reached for the salad toppings she had laid out. “Guests don’t help.”
“I’m not a guest,” I countered. “I use the side door.”
“Well, today you should have used the front door.” There was an ominous edge to her voice.
“What the hell is going on?” I pressed.
“Catherine.”
I snapped to attention at the sound of Hayes’s voice as he strolled into the kitchen.
Holy Dolly Parton…
“Close your mouth!” Hallie hissed in a manic whisper.
I snapped my jaw shut as Hayes paused, closed the study’s French doors, then strolled through the sitting room until he was standing across the kitchen island from me.
He was wearing a pair of tailored navy slacks that had no business making his ass look that good.
A brown leather belt branded with the same rose pattern that was on the estate’s front gates cinched just above his hips.
He wore a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves cuffed just below his elbows, and he had left the top buttons artfully undone.
Hayes looked opulent yet casual. But behind the cool facade was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
He was assessing me. Sizing me up.
And I had no idea why.
“I was waiting for you at the front door,” Hayes said.
So, he’s playing the host today. Which begs the question: Why?
“I never use the front door,” I admitted as Hallie swished by me, balancing the salad plates and appetizers on her arm as she carried them out of the kitchen.
The corner of his mouth twitched in a subdued smile. It was hard to get a read on Hayes. At the funeral I had just assumed he was grieving. He probably still was, but he seemed a little more like himself without all the fuss of a houseful of company.
Unfortunately for me, Hayes being himself meant he had the range of expression of a cement wall.
“Thank you for joining me today. I know the invitation was last-minute.” His formality was unnerving.
Was this about the umpteenth Wilder Foundation grant application I had filled out and submitted? If this was a business meeting, I was glad I had dressed up.
“Of course,” I said as I stayed on my side of the island. “I’ll take any excuse I can get to come out here.”
“It’s a nice day. I thought we could have lunch in the rose garden if that’s alright with you,” Hayes said as he tipped his head in the direction Hallie had disappeared to.
Oh, he’s pulling out all the stops.
“I’d love that.”
Hayes stared at me for a moment before lowering his head and laughing under his breath. He extended his hand across the island. “Cath, I’m not going to bite.”
Well, that was a disappointment. Maybe he would if I asked nicely.
Tentatively, I rounded the island as Hallie walked back in. “Lunch is served, Mr. Wilder,” she said.
Hayes huffed. “Again with the ‘Mr. Wilder’ shit. When are you going to drop that?”
Hallie snickered. “It’s more fun to tease you. You two enjoy. Thanks for the bribe, Cath.”
Breaking every rule of etiquette known to mankind, I turned, stuck out my tongue, and flipped her off.
Hayes laughed as he slid his hand onto my back, leading me out of the kitchen and onto the patio. “You tried to bribe Hallie?”
“With iced coffee and a brownie from the Moo Brew,” I said.
“We have a coffee maker in the kitchen,” he noted as we walked through the winding garden paths. “She keeps it on overdrive most days.”
“Ah, yes. But coffee always tastes better when someone else makes it.”
His responding chuckle was rich. “Can’t argue with that. Why were you trying to bribe her?”
“I was curious why I was invited. I was under the impression that this was more of a group affair.” I glanced at the wrought iron table that was covered in a perfectly pressed linen. Two pristine place settings were arranged on top. Between them was a bud vase that held three pale pink roses.
“I apologize for being vague,” he said as he pulled my chair away from the table, waited for me to sit, then gently pushed it in.
I kept my hands in my lap and tucked my ankles to the side of the chair as he opened the bottle of white wine and let it breathe.
“I’m just glad I didn’t show up in shorts for a cookout, or jeans to ride.”
Thick lashes flicked up and down as he quickly assessed my appearance. “You look beautiful.” And for the first time, I got a full smile. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in shorts.”
So, this wasn’t business.
I tucked away my dreams of having direct access to the decision-maker at the Wilder Foundation and settled in to see what the hell this was all about.
We munched on our salads while taking in the scenery.
The rose garden should have been a morose place.
Hayes’s parents and grandparents were buried not too far away.
But it was too beautiful to be sad. Winding paths cut through neatly pruned bushes.
Everything was in bloom, surrounding us in soft pinks and crisp greens.
The trickling stone fountain harmonized with the birds, serenading us as we ate.
After a few minutes of passive small talk about the weather and the town, Hallie appeared with something that smelled absolutely divine.
She stayed silent but kept glancing between us as she traded the empty salad plates for grilled chicken and pasta in a bright sun-dried tomato cream sauce.
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say this isn’t a coincidence,” I guessed as she disappeared.
Hayes lifted an eyebrow as he poured the wine. “What makes you say that?”
“Hallie made all my favorite foods. The salad with grilled peaches? My favorite. Her sun-dried tomato sauce? I could drink it by the gallon.”
Hayes chuckled as he set the bottle down. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“What’s for dessert?” I pressed.
His jaw worked from side to side. “What will make this seem the least like I’m trying to get on your good side?”
I smiled as I slid my knife through the chicken. “Answer the question, Hayes.”
He slowly chewed his first bite, dabbed his mouth with the linen napkin, then leaned back in his seat. “Peach cobbler.”
“Fine. It’s not a coincidence. It’s a conspiracy,” I said. “Did she make cinnamon ice cream with it too?”
Hayes winced. “I’m coming on a little strong, aren’t I?”
I picked up my wine and tipped it toward him. “Lucky for you, I’m easily motivated by food. And unlike Hallie, I can be bribed.” I took a sip. “What’s going on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being wined and dined. Especially when Hallie is cooking. But you could have just called.”