Practically Married Page 4

  “Yes, with John Miller, a photographer in Boyne.” Ashley looked back at him, whipping her citrusy hair across his face. “And I’m not homeless. Tom told me I could live here. Of course, I was supposed to be his wife.”

  Those wild eyes flashed at him—not really green, not quite brown, but fierce and focused. And dry. Not a tear in sight as she talked about his dead cousin. He should be grateful, but suspicion invaded his mind. His sisters had cried more than this woman, Tom’s supposed fiancée. Something was off. He needed more information so he could figure out what. “January’s two months away. John would understand if you gave notice.”

  “I don’t want to give notice. I want to learn how to become a portrait photographer.”

  “Fine, you need to stay in the area, but you don’t need to stay here. If you sold your house, then you should have money available. Buy another one.”

  “It’s not that easy. I—”

  The front door slammed. “Yoo-hoo!”

  Russ closed his eyes. It had to be his imagination. She wasn’t supposed to arrive for hours.

  “Russ? Whose car is that?”

  Nope, not his imagination. “I’m upstairs, Mom!”

  Ashley’s eyes widened. “Does your mom live here too?”

  “She’s staying with me until the memorial. She didn’t want me to be alone.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Honey, who’s here? That car is adorable.”

  Russ motioned toward the door. “I suppose I need to introduce you.”

  “Probably. If Tom didn’t tell you about me, then I doubt your mom knows.”

  Her body remained rigid, but her eyes narrowed. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that look, but it didn’t hurt that he’d grown up with three sisters. Ashley put up a good front, but it had to be hard to pretend like she wasn’t upset with Tom’s … oversight.

  Russ offered his arm. “I’ll introduce you.” Those beautiful eyes looked into his, then down at his arm. She slid a steady hand around his bicep. A surge of energy shot across his skin as her fingers tickled him through his sleeve.

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded but couldn’t seem to move. Soft fingers. Pink cheeks. Strong spirit. She wasn’t like any of his sisters.

  Ashley’s eyebrows pinched together. “Russ?”

  “Oh! Um, let’s go.” He took off, pulling her alongside him.

  “Honey?”

  “Comin’, Mom.”

  “I brought Robbie Kraft with me. He wants to talk about Tom’s will.”

  They met his mom at the bottom of the stairs. Curly, graying ponytail, sparkly seasonal sweatshirt, and electric-blue sneakers, same as always. A welcome sight after a day full of surprises.

  “Hey, Mom.” Russ hugged her. For no good reason, it disappointed him that she didn’t smell like oranges. “This is Ashley Johnson. She’s a friend of Tom’s. Ashley, this is my mother, Kathleen Russell.”

  “You’re Ashley?” Mom’s eyes widened. “Robbie was just asking about you.”

  Rob walked in from the kitchen, an apple in hand. His wife’s influence seemed to be working. “I stole one of your candy bars.” So much for that theory. He extended a hand.

  Russ shook it. “Good to see you again. What brings you out to the house?”

  Mom took Ashley’s free hand and led her toward the kitchen. “Tom’s will. Ashley, why don’t we get you a cold drink? I know my son. He didn’t offer you anything, did he?”

  “No, but I didn’t ask.”

  A spark of panic ignited in Russ’ chest. He wasn’t sure he wanted those women talking about him.

  Rob smacked Russ on the back. “Where did she come from?”

  “Ohio.”

  “I can’t believe you guys didn’t mention her before.”

  “I’ve never met her until today. How do you know about her?”

  “I need to talk to her about that. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

  Russ followed his old high-school classmate through the house. In the kitchen, Ashley sat at the island with cold cuts, cheese, and lemonade, none of which had been in the house when Russ left that morning. Mom’s hospitality skills amazed him.

  “Robbie, can I get you anything?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said, waving his apple. “As long as we’re all here, let’s get started.”

  “This is private. I should let you talk alone.” Ashley slid off the stool.

  “No, you need to be here.” Rob dropped his briefcase on the table. “I need both of you here.”

  Russ leaned against the island beside Ashley. “Both of who?”

  “You and Ashley.”

  “What?” Ashley’s voice harmonized with his. They faced each other. She looked as confused as he felt.

  Russ shook his head. “Just when you think the day can’t get any weirder.”

  Mom handed him and Ashley each a glass of lemonade as her phone rang. She checked the screen and frowned. “It’s Liz. I’d better take this,” she said as she stepped into the living room.

  “Before Tom left for his trip, he called me and scheduled an appointment,” Rob said. “He wanted to talk about adding Ashley to his will.” He glanced at her. “I assume he meant you.”

  Perfect. Russ looked at her now. “I didn’t know Tom had a will. Did you?”

  “No. That’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t include me … would he?”

  “No.” Rob’s shoulders relaxed. “He died before the appointment, so we never talked, but I wanted to see if he’d spoken to either of you or given you a copy. If neither of you has anything in writing from him, then we’re all set. His will stands.”

  Russ held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. Tom knew better than to give me hard copies of anything.”

  “Our only written communication was through email and texts,” Ashley said. “Actually, he did send me one letter, but it doesn’t mention his will.”

  “A letter?” Rob walked toward them. “May I see it?”

  Her face brightened to the cutest shade of pink. “I, I guess. You’re not going to read it out loud, are you?”

  “Not if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to see what’s in it.”

  “Okay, sure.” She left the kitchen, the clack of her footsteps fading as she disappeared around the corner.

  Russ refocused his attention on Rob. “Why do you need to see her letter?”

  “I want to check something.”

  Rob said something about his kids, but Russ’ ears focused on Ashley’s steps as they padded around above them. A door slammed overhead. Her footsteps hurried to the kitchen, slowing as she approached the island. She held a piece of paper against her chest, her gaze honed in on Rob. “For your eyes only, right?”

  “I promise.”

  With two slow steps, she walked to Rob and handed over the page. “It’s just a letter.”

  As he read, she twisted her fingers and shifted her weight. Russ wanted to ease her discomfort. Would she want a hug? A drink? A kind word? Was it even his responsibility?

  Rob blew out a loud, long breath.

  A weight settled on Russ’ shoulders. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Congratulations, Ashley. You own this house.”

  “What?”

  Russ couldn’t tell who yelled the loudest, but Ashley definitely won the wide-eyed, drop-jawed contest. Tom left her the house? Anger coursed through Russ’ limbs, tensing every muscle and joint, threatening to crush his bones and sanity. “Did you say Ashley owns this house? The house that my grandpa built? The Russell family home?”

  Rob nodded. “If Tom legally owned the house, then he can legally will it away.”

  “I don’t know who technically owns the house.” Russ clenched his fists. “Grandma and Grandpa lived here until they died. By then Tom and I were working the farm full time, so it made sense to move in. Tom knew all of this. He kept the paperwork. Uncle Bill probably has a copy of something, but his son just died. I’m not going to burden
him with a nonsense legal matter based on a letter.”

  “But how?” Ashley wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s a letter.”

  Rob held up the paper. “May I read a section out loud?”

  “If you need to.”

  “This is what I was looking for: ‘I’m sorry about the fight. Our relationship is more important than any trip. I know how important a family and home are to you, and I will do everything in my power to give you everything you need. My house is yours.’ ” Rob tossed the letter on the table. “In court, that could hold up as a holographic will. Tom gave Ashley the house.”

  My house is yours. The words lingered in the kitchen. Ashley got her wish—she wasn’t homeless anymore. Russ was. “What about the farm? Does she get everything?”

  “I’d like to read the rest of the letter and do a little more research on holographic wills. This is the first one I’ve handled, so I want to be certain before I offer advice.”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” Frustration ripped through Russ’ body as he turned to confront Ashley. “If you only emailed each other, why did he conveniently write that letter?”

  “Conveniently?” The soft lines of her face hardened as Ashley pulled her shoulders back. “That letter was an apology. Tom and I got into a fight a few weeks ago because he wanted me to move here, but he was going on that camping trip and asked me to fly up as soon as he got back. I was mad because we wouldn’t be able to talk until the day I flew in. I don’t like traveling alone, and I wasn’t comfortable relocating my whole life without having a contact here, but he wouldn’t cancel his trip.

  “The letter says he wrote it in Marquette. It’s dated the first day of his trip. It wasn’t ‘convenient.’ It was heartfelt and thoughtful. And it was the last thing he said to me before he died. He may not have talked about me, but at least he was thinking about me.”

  Mom shuffled back into the kitchen. “What did I miss?”

  Russ crossed his arms. Ashley could deal with it. Instead of responding, she pressed her lips into a thin, white line.

  Rob picked up the letter. “Tom left Ashley the house.”

  “What?” The color drained from Mom’s face. “Can he do that? Why would he do that?”

  Russ suppressed a groan. He and Ashley had enough to figure out. He wouldn’t unleash the Mother Inquisition on her now. “It doesn’t matter. Besides, we don’t need to understand why he did it. We need to figure out what to do about it.”

  “We can fix it, though, right?” Ashley’s song-like voice raked his nerves. “I can sell the house to Russ.”

  “I don’t have the money to buy it, and I’ve got a giant mortgage on the new farm equipment.” The sterile white walls of the kitchen closed in on him, threatening to consume him. He needed a solution. He paced across the tile, trying to relieve the pressure. With limited space and options, he stopped at the island, gripping the cold granite countertop.

  A warm hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  Ashley’s touch soothed his tense muscles. Why did she have to be so charming? “I’m sorry about this mess,” he said. “It’s bad enough that you just found out about Tom—”

  “What?” Mom spun Ashley around and pulled her into the death grip of comfort, the same stifling hug she’d given Russ every day for a year after his dad died. He’d never been able to avoid it. Small chance he’d be able to rescue Ashley.

  When Ashley wheezed, Mom stepped back. “Robbie, thank you for coming out here, but this is too much for today.” Her hands framed Ashley’s face. “Honey, we don’t need to worry about the house right now. You can stay here as long as it takes to figure this out.”

  CHAPTER 6

  The following afternoon, Ashley stuffed another sweater in the drawer, finally filling the oak dresser. With her clothes unpacked, she inspected the sparse bedroom. The sunny, friendly room didn’t feel right under the circumstances. Invading Tom’s room, however, seemed morbid.

  Someone stomped through the hallway, the footsteps fading down the stairs. Russ. Tom talked about his cousin more than anyone else. Why didn’t he mention their living arrangement? She should have figured it out, though. They did everything together, from working on the farm to playing in a winter basketball league. Tom called it necessary, both of them having grown up surrounded by sisters.

  Now, instead of meeting those sisters, Ashley was trying to figure out ways not to annoy Russ any more than she already had. She’d imagined them being friends, not strange roommates, though his hospitality was more than she would have extended. But how long could they live like that?

  Her cell phone jingled. Rose. Ashley had talked to her aunt when she landed but hadn’t called since then, and she’d ignored both of Rose’s calls. She and John were worried enough. How would they take the news of Tom’s death, especially considering Ashley’s decision to stay in Michigan without him? Of course, the truth couldn’t be worse than any tragic scenario Rose would concoct if Ashley didn’t talk to her soon. Rose deserved better than that.

  With a deep breath, Ashley answered her phone. “Hi, Aunt Rose. Sorry I missed your call last night.”

  “That’s all right. I thought you might be busy but wanted to call anyway. Did you make it to Boyne okay?”

  Ashley glanced at the family picture on the dresser. Sorrow clogged her throat. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

  “And Tom made it to the airport for you?” Rose’s voice lowered.

  Ashley could picture her aunt’s creased face with her eyebrows pulled together and her lips pinched as they did when delivery drivers left her packages in the rain. She wouldn’t lie to Rose, but she couldn’t add to her aunt’s worries either. “He wasn’t able to meet me, but I’m at his house now. His aunt and cousin are here too. I’m looking forward to getting to know them better.” Which was true, but Ashley couldn’t control the hitch in her voice.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just”—her voice caught—“a little tired.”

  “You should rest. I know I haven’t been completely supportive of your decision, but I’m proud of you. This is a big change, and it’s not an easy thing to do. I don’t know how you found the courage to do it, but I admire you for doing it.”

  Her praise pierced Ashley’s heart, pushing her tear ducts past full. “Thanks, Aunt Rose.”

  “Now go get some rest.”

  Ashley ended the call, but the tears continued to fall. She should be celebrating, not mourning. Rose believed Ashley was starting a new life, but it was more of the same. Another death and another funeral. Another hole in Ashley’s heart, filling in with loss and pain instead of growth and joy. Life in Michigan wasn’t supposed to happen that way. Tom was young and healthy. A friend. Her new family.

  And now he was gone.

  God, not again. Ashley sank to the floor and sobbed.

  *******

  Russ headed back upstairs to look for his watch. It had to be on the nightstand. As he reached the top step, he couldn’t miss the closed door in front of him. For eight years he’d looked at the door without giving it a thought. He’d already noticed it three times that day.

  What was Ashley doing in there? She’d closed herself in after dinner the night before and hadn’t come out since. He walked past the door and paused. Crying? But her short gasps weren’t the cause of the chills down his spine.

  “I can’t.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Not again.”

  Again? He clenched his fingers together. Another fiancé, or something else? Every shaky breath Ashley drew weakened his resolve. Her arrival and the will had surprised him, but until that moment he’d never thought about how hard it must be for her. At least he had his mom and sisters nearby. Who did Ashley have?

  Staring at the glossy black doorknob, Russ raised his hand. Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.

  Ashley coughed, then cleared her throat. “Yes?”

  “It’s Russ. I, uh, I wanted to se
e if you need anything.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “It sounds like you’re crying.” She blew her nose but didn’t respond. Now what? His sisters always wanted to talk, but he never knew what to say. Maybe Ashley was more like him. “Want to go for a drive?”

  More sniffling. “A drive?”

  “Grab your coat.”

  She shuffled around behind the door, then the knob turned. Ashley peeked through the narrow crack, her eyes red and swollen. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s better if I show you.”

  She stepped back, allowing the door to open more, and rubbed her fingers under her eyes. “I’m not really presentable.”

  Not presentable? He’d never known jeans and a sweater could look so good, but he couldn’t say that. Instead, he shrugged. “No one else will see you.”

  “Do I need to bring anything?”

  “Just your coat.”

  Ashley pressed her lips together, her eyebrows pinched above her nose. For a moment, he thought she might close the door in his face, but her chin bobbed slightly. She pulled her coat out of the closet before meeting him at the door. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Russ led the way downstairs. Ashley sniffled behind him, but her footsteps fell into sync with his. Neither of them spoke as they trekked out the front door and to Russ’ truck. The engine turned over easily, and they rumbled along the dirt driveway before turning onto the equally bumpy road. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ashley brace herself against the door. At least she’d stopped crying.

  They rode in silence for nearly twenty minutes as Russ navigated the familiar unmarked roads through acres of woodlands. As he guided the truck up the last hill, peace washed over him. Hopefully, Ashley would find the same comfort there.

  As they approached the top, the trees thinned out until the truck pulled into a clearing. Fluffy clouds dotted the blue sky above them, and miles of orchards stretched out below. Smatterings of green grass circled the dormant trees as the last, desperate leaves clung to barren branches.