Page 129 of Charlotte's Reckoning
Still, she hesitated.
“It’s going to be fine, darlin’,” Seth reassured her, his hand curled around her knee. “I’ve dealt with some of the meanest outlaws in history. I’ll handle Jael, too.”
“You should probably reserve judgment on those outlaws until you meet her.”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Let’s get this done. The sooner we do, the sooner our new life can begin.”
She wished she had his confidence, but he had her trust, which was enough. She put her hands on his shoulders and let him lift her down from the high bench.
As she looked at the steps they had to climb to get to the front door, the knot in her stomach tightened. “It’s like I’m nineteen again,” she whispered.
“But you’re not. You’re a grown woman, intelligent, and accomplished in business.” He took her hand in his. “You’re also not alone in this.”
She took another deep breath and then nodded. “I’m ready.”
He didn’t flinch as her fingers tightened on his—painfully, so she knew—as together they mounted the stairs and crossed the porch.
Seth knocked three times on the heavy oak, each firm and confident.
The door opened, revealing an older woman. The passage of time had silvered her hair and lined her face, yet she was reassuringly familiar.
“Maw?” she gasped.
“Miss Rowie? Lands sakes, child. I never thought to see you again.”
Instantly enveloped in a hug, she rocked her gently as if she were a child again. She couldn’t keep tears from welling up.
“Well, well… The prodigal stepdaughter returns,” a bitter voice remarked. “I can’t fathom the reason, but whatever it is, do it swiftly and leave. For good this time.”
“No matter how much I wish for it to happen, the evil witch just won’t die,” Maw whispered before letting her go.
Rowie turned to face her stepmother, shocked to see she hadn’t aged well. She would be fifty this year, but her dull, mostly gray hair and the deep grooves around her mouth—permanent scowl lines—made her look much older.
Proof she was human and not one of Satan’s minions, as she’d always suspected, boosted Rowie’s confidence.
“I should be polite and say it’s nice to see you, Jael, but we know that isn’t true.” She shook her head, clicked her tongue in disapproval like her stepmother used to do, then said bluntly, “Time hasn’t been kind to you, has it?”
Beside her, Seth smothered a laugh while Jael’s head snapped back like she’d slapped her. She recovered quickly, however.
“If you’re here to insult me, you can leave. In fact, I don’t care why you’ve come. Just go.”
Her hero husband stepped in front of her. “We’re here on business. If you hope to get the least sliver of generosity from my wife once we’ve said our piece, you’ll guard your tongue of its nastiness, madam.”
Unlike its connotation where they came from, in genteel society, it was a term of respect. The way Seth said it, with an edge of steel, it would never be interpreted as such.
“What business could I possibly have with you?” Jael asked, her superior air and contemptuous sneer as familiar as ever.
“Serious legal business,” Rowie declared. “Seth, show her the court order.”
He stepped forward and handed her a tri-folded paper.
“What’s this?” Jael demanded impatiently, not bothering to open and read it.
“We’ve just come from court,” Seth explained. “The judge issued a writ of possession allowing the rightful owner, Rowena Eldridge Walker, to reclaim her property.”
“That’s utter nonsense,” she sputtered in outrage. “I am the property owner. Phillip left Eldridge House to me.”
“Not according to Mr. Abernathy, Papa’s attorney for twenty years,” Rowie informed her. “He took care of all of Papa’s legal affairs except for the new will, which, surprisingly, bequeathed everything to you, over his daughter, who was nearing her majority. Don’t you find that odd?”
