Page 20 of Suzanna's Surrender
Marshall looked up and gave his foreman an affable smile. “Sure, nothing but minutes.”
“Well, they need some tables moved into the ballroom for that wedding tomorrow. You and Rick give the ladies a hand.”
“Right.”
Marshall strolled along, fighting back a trembling excitement at being free to walk through the house. He took his instructions from a flustered Coco, then hefted his end of the heavy hunt table to move it up to the next floor.
“Do you think he’ll come?” C.C. asked Suzanna as they finished washing down the glass on the mirrored walls.
“I doubt it.”
C.C. brushed back her short cap of black hair as she stood aside to search for streaks. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t. And maybe if we all gang up on him, he’ll break down and join ranks.”
“I don’t think he’s a joiner.” Suzanna glanced around and saw the two men struggling in with the table. “Oh, it goes against that wall. Thanks.”
“No problem,” Rick managed through gritted teeth. Marshall merely smiled and said nothing.
“Maybe if he sees the picture of Bianca and hears the tape from the interview Max and Lilah had with the maid who used to work here back then, he’ll pitch in. He’s Christian’s only surviving family.”
“Hey!” Rick muffled a curse when Marshall bobbled the table.
“I don’t think he’s big on family feeling,” Suzanna put in. “One thing that hasn’t changed about Holt Bradford is that he’s still a loner.”
Holt Bradford. Marshall committed the name to memory before he called across the room. “Is there anything else we can do for you ladies?”
Suzanna glanced over her shoulder with an absent smile. “No, not right now. Thanks a lot.”
Marshall grinned. “Don’t mention it.”
“Some lookers, huh?” Rick muttered as they walked back out.
“Oh, yeah.” But Marshall was thinking of the emeralds.
“I tell you, bud, I’d like to—” Rick broke off when two other women and a young boy came to the top of the stairs. He gave them both a big, toothy smile. Lilah gave him a lazy one in return and kept walking.
“Man, oh, man,” Rick said with a hand to his heart. “This place is just full of babes.”
“Pardon the leers,” Lilah said mildly. “Most of them don’t bite.”
The slim strawberry blonde gave a weak smile. At the moment a couple of leering carpenters were the least of her worries. “I really don’t want to get in the way,” she began in a soft Southwestern drawl. “I know what Sloan said, but I really think it would be best if Kevin and I checked into a hotel for the night.”
“This late in the season, you couldn’t check into a tent. And we want you here. All of us. Sloan’s family is our family now.” Lilah smiled down at the dark-haired boy who was gawking at everything in sight. “It’s a wild place, isn’t it? Your uncle’s making sure it doesn’t come crashing down on our heads.” She walked into the ballroom.
Suzanna was standing on a ladder, polishing glass, while C.C. sat on the floor, hitting the low spots. Lilah bent to the boy. “I was supposed to be in on this,” she whispered. “But I played hooky.”
The idea made him laugh, and the laughter, so much like Alex’s, had Suzanna glancing over.
She was expecting them. Their arrival had been anticipated for weeks. But seeing them here, knowing who they were, had her nerves jolting.
The woman wasn’t just Sloan’s sister, nor was the boy just his nephew. A short time before, Suzanna had learned that Megan O’Riley had been her husband’s lover, and the boy his child. The woman who was staring at her now, the boy’s hand gripped in hers, had been only seventeen when Baxter had charmed her into bed and seduced her with vows of love and promises of marriage. And all the while, he had been planning to marry Suzanna.
Which one of us, Suzanna wondered, had been the other woman?
It didn’t matter now, she thought, and she climbed down. Not when she could see the nerves so clearly in Megan O’Riley’s eyes, the tension in the set of her body and the courage in the angle of her chin.
Lilah made introductions so smoothly that an outsider might have thought there was nothing but pleasantries in the ballroom. As Suzanna offered a hand, all Megan could think was that she had overdressed. She felt stiff and foolish in the trim bronze-colored suit, while Suzanna seemed so relaxed and lovely in faded jeans.
This was the woman she had hated for years, for taking away the man she’d loved and stealing the father of her child. Even after Sloan had explained Suzanna’s innocence, even knowing the hate had been wasted, Megan couldn’t relax.
