Page 70 of Mending Fences
Mandy pointed to the third one. “Please, not that.”
“Agreed. The bordello is out. I also veto the private school. Too many snobs sending their children away.”
“Agreed.”
That left the family home, art museum, sanitarium, and country club.
“I don’t know that I want to see golf balls in the duck pond. After all, I did promise not to hurt the pond. I don’t know if they do mental health units that way or if we might find a buyer. I am not getting into health care—too many government regulations.”
“Well, that brings us down to two.”
“It is too big for a family home.” Mandy’s voice cracked as she said it.
“Probably right. But I think there is another option.”
Mandy turned to face him.
Daniel gestured to the cleanest of the buildings. “This place would be a wonderful multi-purpose community building with a museum and community classrooms. The caretaker’s house is much more suited to a family home, as is the back half of this house. Did you ever think of dividing it? Of course, your house would make a very nice family home.”
What was he insinuating? Mandy needed more air. “No, I didn’t think much of what was inside.”
“You did on a couple of them. See? You put a crib in this window of the family home. And look what you put in the windows of this one.”
“I’d rather not.”
Daniel laughed. “You must have been very mad to create this one, judging by your blush. I still want to see the original.”
When unicorns land on your lawn.Mandy backed up a step as the heat in her face grew. “I don’t think you do.”
Surprisingly, Daniel didn’t advance. “It must have been very, very bad.”
Mandy felt the blush to her toes.
Daniel moved on to a new subject. “We have time to decide. There are 630 acres here, and I have thought of several uses. For some of the land.”
Not sure what to do with the “we,” she ignored it. “Aren’t you selling?”
“I have thought of selling the north section that used to be the cornfields to the Amish. I hear they are looking for more land in the area. Maybe put the mansion in some sort of charitable trust.” He looked at his watch. “I think it’s time for lunch. Shall we go see what Hank’s posterity has to say about that?” They left the house through the kitchen, where Daniel grabbed a picnic basket. Mandy was impressed. He hadn’t had long to plan.
He entwined his fingers with hers, and they headed to the pond. As they drew near, the ducks started quacking.
“Do you hear what they are saying?” asked Daniel.
“Quack-quack-quack?”
“No, I hear ‘quack-quack, quack-honk-quack-quack, honk-quack-honk-quack.”
“I-L-C—I love cookies?” Mandy’s heart sped up. She was pretty sure she knew what he was trying to say, but she needed to hear it.
“Oops, that last one should have been a honk forY.” Daniel set the basket down.
“The ducks love me?”
Daniel shook his head and settled his hands on her waist. “Not the ducks. Me.” He stepped closer and started to lower his head, his eyes tracking hers, then lowering to her mouth.
Mandy stood on her tiptoes and did what every girl was dying to do. She kissed Daniel Crawford hello. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him some more.
He kissed her back.
And while they embraced, Hank’s great-grandson stuck his head in the basket and ran off with a sandwich.
