The Magnolia Inn - Carolyn Brown Page 0,10

the renovations done, you can come back, live back in this ratty trailer, and just rake in the money,” Belinda told him. “Or, if you want, you can stay on and help Jolene run the place.”

He raked his hand through his dark hair. “I don’t cook.”

“Surely Jolene does if she’s plannin’ to run a bed-and-breakfast,” Belinda said.

Tucker ran a hand down over his square jaw, which sported two days of dark growth. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ve got another buyer who’d like to invest in the place, so you’ve got twenty-four hours,” Belinda said.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow. Call you at the office?”

“I’ll be there from nine to five.”

The noise of a car stopping too quick on gravel took his attention to the door. “I hear my pizza delivery kid. Want to stay? I’ve got an extra beer.”

Belinda glanced over at Melanie’s picture. “I’m serious, Tucker. She would want you to move on, and I can’t stay for pizza and beer. Ray and the kids are waiting for me to come home and make our traditional New Year’s supper. You better eat black-eyed peas and something green if you want yours to be prosperous.” She stood, crammed her hat onto her head, and wrapped her scarf around her neck. “This is a good deal for you, and it’ll get you out of this sorry excuse for a home. I hope you don’t let it pass you by.”

“I said I’d think about it,” Tucker answered.

Belinda pushed the door open and disappeared out into the cold night air. She and Melanie had been best friends since they were in the church nursery together, but they looked nothing alike. Melanie had been a tall, slim-built brunette with green eyes. Belinda—a short dark-haired lady—had gained weight with every one of her three kids.

He picked up his deceased wife’s picture and ran a finger down the edge of her face. “Don’t listen to her, darlin’. We’ve got an understanding that she don’t know jack crap about.”

Someone rapped on the door. “Got a delivery for Tucker Malone.”

The kid handed him the pizza, and Tucker gave him a ten-dollar bill and a five. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The kid turned around and jogged back to his car.

Tucker set the pizza on the cabinet, and Sassy immediately opened her eyes. She jumped from the sofa arm to the cabinet and tried to open the box with her claws.

“Go get back on the sofa and we’ll share. There’s plenty,” he said.

The cat glared at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get your fancy plate down and cut up a piece in bite-size chunks.” He picked the black olives, onions, and peppers off her slice. “Peppers are green and olives aren’t too far from the color of black-eyed peas, so that takes care of the silly southern superstition, right?”

Sassy purred in agreement until he set the bone-china plate on her favorite place on the cabinet, and then she set about eating. He stacked up four slices of pizza on a paper plate for himself and got out a beer. He carried it to the sofa and watched the rest of the movie as he ate. When it ended, he stared at Melanie’s picture sitting on the tiny table at the end of the sofa.

“What should I do, darlin’? I’ve got all that insurance money, more than enough to buy half the Magnolia Inn and to remodel it. But it’s your money and I’m not sure you’d want me to use it to buy half interest in a place where a woman owns the other half. I remember how jealous you were. So tell me what to do. I can’t make this decision to spend the money from your death without a sign from you,” he said.

He laid his forehead in the palm of his calloused hand and shut his eyes. The distant roll of thunder brought him to full alert, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that was a sign from his beloved Melanie. Sassy hopped up on the sofa beside him, licked her paws, and curled up on her favorite throw pillow. Not a sign by any stretch of the word.

“Guess you’ll be sleepin’ on Melanie’s pillow tonight—that sounds like rain comin’ on,” he said.

Sassy meowed once and sighed.

“That’s not a sign, either.” Tucker finished off the pizza and went to bed.

He didn’t dream that night and awoke in a bad mood. All he’d asked for was a little indication that he should even consider buying that run-down place. Melanie could have visited

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