Page 123 of Boston
“Let’s go back this way.” Cal led them back through the pantry. “And there’s another door right here,” he said, indicating it. “This leads you into the master suite.” He opened the door, and something worthy of being called a suite appeared.
The king bed stood there with an enormous sleigh bed frame and canopy still intact. Two nightstands and a giant dresser still didn’t fill the room. Clothes had been discarded on the bed, as ifMrs. Wicker had considered taking them with her to California and then vetoed the idea.
Boston felt like he’d stepped into a museum and was seeing intimate things that he wasn’t meant to see, like a case study of how someone had lived their life. It both fascinated and frightened him.
“This is the master bath,” Cal said, indicating a door. “It butts right up against the back of the garage. See that? And it’s the width of the pantry.”
“Oh, yeah, I got it,” Cash said as he went into the master bath.
“This bathroom extends into the master closet, which you can get into on the other side of the bed, but it’s all connected with like a U.”
Boston walked it, noting that the upgrades to this place were more modern and had definitely cost a lot of money. The bathroom had two sinks, a standing shower encased in glass, and a whirlpool tub. It did lead into a closet that was roughly the size of Boston’s entire studio apartment at Silver Sage, and it still held clothes from corner to corner and floor to ceiling.
“What are they going to do with all this stuff?” Boston asked.
Cal cleared his throat, and Boston did not like the sound of that. He peered at the other man and nudged Cash, who’d been running his fingers along the sleeve of a corduroy jacket. He startled and looked at Boston, and then Cal.
“Yeah, what are they going to do with all this stuff?”
Cal swallowed. “They’re actually hoping whoever buys it will deal with it.”
“Dealwith it?” Boston asked.
“It comes with the house,” Cal said quickly. “And a lot of these clothes are vintage. They’re very popular these days.”
Boston gaped at him. “So I’m going to open a vintage clothing store now?”
Cash started to laugh. “We could have one heck of a yard sale.”
Boston glared at him. “We don’t even know what’s in any of these boxes.”
“Trudy Wicker has actually been really good,” Cal said. “Anything that she packed up, she labeled.” He pointed to one of the boxes almost blocking the doorway which led back into the bedroom. “See this one says ‘Daddy’s cowboy hats.’”
Boston could not imagine wearing another man’s cowboy hat, and he didn’t know a single cowboy in Wyoming who would do that.
“Great,” he deadpanned, and then he followed Cal back into the main bedroom. They had so much more to see, and now, instead of envisioning space, all Boston could think about was having todeal with everythingthat had been left behind.
He couldn’t even deal with what he had on his plate right now, and the thought of adding a property like this almost had him in tears.
He actually wanted to call Cora and tell her about it, so that they could laugh about it quietly tonight as he held her on her couch. But he couldn’t do that, and that only put him in a worse mood as Cal said, “Let’s get back in our trucks and I’ll have you follow me over to the other house.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Cora had skipped the coffee cart that morning because it had morphed from a place where she could get a few things signed off on and try to get to know the staff at Silver Sage.
No, the people she ran into at the coffee cart now wanted answers from her. They wanted to know why she hadn’t finished a batch of paperwork yet, or they asked the same questions that they’d put in emails that she just hadn’t gotten to yet.
She didn’t have time to brew coffee in her own cabin, and she hated herself a little bit as she picked up the phone and tapped in the three-digit code for Julie Bryant. She sat right across from Boston’s desk, and since Cora knew they were great friends, it was almost like she could call and talk to Boston when she dialed Julie.
“Good morning, Miss Silver,” Julie chirped. “What can I do for you?”
“Listen, I know you’re not my secretary,” Cora said, leaning over her phone for some reason. “But I missed getting coffee. Is there a way I can order some?”
“Of course,” Julie said. “I can run out to the beverage bar and get you some, or you can call them, and they’ll deliver it to you.”
Cora tilted her head. “Do they deliver it to all employees?”
