The Man Must Marry(11)

       
           



       

"Me, too," he said, knowing she meant Abram. "But it's going to be okay.   He couldn't live forever. And we had him when we needed him most. So,   what do you think of Rosebriar?" he asked, leading her up the stairs to   the mansion.

"It's beautiful. And big," she said, craning her neck to follow the lines of the monstrous stone building.

"Bram liked big things," he said, and Willa looked over to see if he was   taking a pot shot at her weight. But he was looking up at the mansion   himself. "Our grandfather grew up in a one-room shanty inTexas . Since   he made it big, he's been trying to make everything big."

"Just how big is big?"

"Eighteen bedrooms, twenty-four bathrooms, sixty rooms total-all sitting in the middle of twelve hundred acres."

"Wow."

"Forty of those acres are gardens," Sam interjected, coming to stand   beside them. "Bram had them built for Rose before the house was even   finished."

"It's overwhelming."

"It's home," Jesse added, coming out the door to stand with them. They   all turned on the steps and looked down the drive, at the grounds that   seemed to stretch into the next state. Willa eyed the brothers. "He's   been living in a two-room cottage on my property."

Abram had come to her like a beggar. She'd taken him in, not even   suspecting how wealthy he was until he'd started talking about a board   meeting she had to go to.

"It's okay, Willamina," Jesse said. "Bram was happy in your cottage, wasn't he?"

"He seemed to be."

"He went home to die," Sam murmured.

"You said home wasTexas ."

"Not in his heart. Bram loved the smell of salt air."

"Both my house and the cottage sit on a bluff, right on theGulfofMaine ."

"Then he was happy," Sam said. "So be happy for him, Willa. We are."

"Come on," Ben said, tugging her toward the door. "You should get settled."

"I can stay in a nearby hotel. I don't want to intrude."

Ben stopped and stared down at her, his eyes haggard and his face drawn. "You'll stay here."

"Until you get my vote?" she asked, smiling impishly, hoping to change his expression.

"It's a moot point. Your proxy died with Bram. We won't know who will be CEO until his will is read."

"Oh." Willa felt as bad as Ben looked. If she'd voted yesterday as she was supposed to, things would be settled now.

"It's better this way," Jesse said.

"What will happen to Tidewater International?"

All three men shrugged in unison. "Who knows?" Sam said. "Bram's biggest   joy in life was keeping his will a secret, but he likely divided his   shares equally among us. Spencer's not been very forthcoming."

"Are you worried?"

"No," Sam said. "Bram will have taken care of the company."

They walked inside and stopped at the foot of a grand staircase straight   out of Gone with the Wind . The stairs seemed to go on forever,  opening  at the top onto a gallery that ran right and left to unseen  wings of  the house. The foyer reached all the way to the roof, which  was crowned  with a dome of inlaid colored glass. The floor and stairs  were marble;  the walls were paneled in dark oak. In any direction Willa  turned, she  encountered lavish, built-to-outlive-a-man money.

"Willamina, you should understand something," Ben said. "It doesn't   matter to any of us which one becomes CEO. We're not in competition. Any   one of us can lead, and the others will follow. No hard feelings, no   jealousy."

"And each of us can walk away anytime," Sam added. "We're not married to   the company. Tidewater International was Bram's passion, and it will   continue to exist if none of us is there. All we have to do is sell   out."

"And you would?" she asked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Jesse confirmed.

"Then why all the hoopla yesterday?"

"Because yesterday Bram was still alive."

"You're going to just walk away, then?" she repeated, not believing them.

"No. One of us will run Tidewater. But that's not the point, Willa," Sam   explained. "The point is, it's not door-die for any of us."

Ronald chose that moment to come inside, bearing the tattered remains of   her luggage with all the dignity of a man carrying a priceless vase.   Willa turned a dull pink and quietly walked up the stairs.                       
       
           



       

"What in hell is that?" Jesse barked, looking at the suitcase as if it were going to explode.

"Willa's luggage," Sam told him dryly.

"What happened to it?"

"Tidewater's elevator ate it."

"Which room would you like this in, Mr. Sinclair?" Ronald asked.

"Whichever room the lady ends up in," Sam told him, watching Willa climb   the stairs. She turned right at the top, her stride stiff as Ronald   followed with her luggage.

"She certainly looks different today," Ben said as the three men walked into the parlor, all heading for the bar.

"Yes, she does," Sam agreed.

"What did you say to her in the car?" Ben asked. "She was bolting like a rabbit before the hounds."

"I think it was more the look I gave her."

"And what look would that be?" Jesse asked.

"She knew I was going to kiss her again."

"Again." It wasn't a question from Ben.

"When was the first time you kissed her?" Jesse asked.

"Last night, when I walked her to her room."

"Now, that's low, even for you. She'd just been in an accident. She was vulnerable," Ben said.

"I was defending our honor," Sam explained, taking his drink and sitting   in one of the chairs by the hearth. He looked around the room. "We   should put Bram up in here. What do you think?"

"I think we were talking about Willamina," Jesse growled. "What in hell do you mean, defending our honor?"

"She said she wouldn't marry any of us if we crawled toMaine on our knees. I was getting her back for that."

"And today, when you were going to kiss her again? Was that also for us?" Jesse asked, taking a seat across from him.

"No, that was for myself. And just so you know, Willa's off limits." Sam gave them a feral grin. "Go hunt your own partridge."

"Are you nuts?" Ben said, standing by the hearth. "You want her?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Jesse asked, looking utterly bewildered.

"I like Willa. It's that simple."

"That woman is not simple."

"No, she's not. She's quite intelligent, and she's got a smart mouth. She also has the heart of an angel. And she's cute."

"She's a disaster waiting to happen," Ben muttered, daring Sam to dispute him.

"I can handle Willa's disasters," Sam said absently. "So, how about this   room? Bram liked it enough to have Grammy's wake in here. I think we   should do the same for him."

"We'd better get started, then. The obituary will be in tomorrow's   papers all over the world. People, flowers, and condolences are going to   descend like vultures."

"We'll have the staff move out most of the furniture." Sam smiled at his   brothers. "Spencer said Bram wrote his own eulogy. I can't wait to  hear  it."

"Christ, I miss the old bastard." Jesse sighed. "I thought he'd live to be a hundred."

"Despite the three of us living here, this house has felt empty these last six weeks," Ben lamented.

"Willa will probably take care of that problem," Jesse drawled, standing up and going to call the staff.

"Rosebriar's liable to need extensive repairs by the time she leaves."

"I'm eager to see Bram's casket, if you want to know the truth," Ben   told Sam. "I know it sounds morbid, but I'm curious as hell. Bram wasn't   exactly known for his patience. How could he have done something as   painstaking as woodwork?"

"Good God, I hope it doesn't fall apart."

"Maybe Willa can add a few nails or something, just to be certain," Ben suggested.

"Surely, she wouldn't let a casket leave her factory without an inspection?"

"Hell of a business to be in," Ben muttered. "Why do you suppose she's in it?"

"Who knows?"

"I'll have to ask her."

"Are there any clothing stores nearby? I need something to wear for the wake," Willa asked at lunch.

"There's a shopping center not far from here. Ronald can take you," Jesse told her.

"I don't want to put anyone out."

"Maybe someone had better go with you," Ben said. "Just to make sure you … um, find what you need."