LITMIR.BIZ

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dawned for him. Journals, if authenticated, that could be worth five or six figures at auction were given away like a bundle of old newspapers. “How much do you want for them?”

      “I can’t sell them.”

      A shiver of annoyance snaked its way up Xavier’s back. “If you don’t intend to sell them, then why show them to me?”

      “That’s because I want to give them to you.”

      He went completely still. “Do you have any idea what these are worth?”

      Charlotte shook her head. “No, and I don’t want to know. You teach history, Mr. Eaton, so I know you will make certain they will find a good home.”

      Xavier leaned forward. “You trust me not to sell them?”

      “I’ve lived long enough to believe I’m a good judge of character. And I know you won’t sell them because you’d want to share what’s in these journals not only with your students but anyone interested in our country’s history.”

      Charlotte Burke was right. He wouldn’t sell the journals because he wasn’t the rightful owner. Perhaps if he’d inherited or purchased them, then Xavier would possibly consider donating them to the South Carolina Historical Society. He planned to read the entries and then verify the accuracy of the events. After having them appraised, he would look for the rightful owner or owners. It was only fair that the descendants of a man who’d chronicled a war in which brothers took up arms against one another should be aware of what he’d had to sacrifice.

      “You’re going to donate them, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked.

      Xavier smiled. “I will—but only if I can’t find the rightful owners. That shouldn’t be too difficult if they’re still living in South Carolina.”

      “What if they’ve moved out of the state?”

      “It will make the search a bit more difficult, but not impossible. Did the lady tell you how long it had been since the woman cleaned her grandmother’s house?”

      Charlotte slipped the books into the leather case and removed her gloves. “No. I would’ve asked, but she appeared very upset. You would’ve thought she’d found a live snake in her house instead of century-old books.”

      What, Xavier mused, was her connection to the man who’d written of his wartime exploits? It had been a while since something had fired his imagination, and he was looking forward to what was certain to become a research project.

      “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to hold on to the journals until I come back. I have some more shopping to do. Meanwhile I’ll pay you for the silver.”

      “But, we haven’t negotiated a price, Mr. Eaton.”

      Xavier waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t like haggling. Please let me know how much I owe you.”

      Charlotte took umbrage to the term haggling, but dismissed it with a slight lifting of her shoulders. Haggling was for peddlers, not a professional antiques dealer such as herself. Xavier’s willingness to meet whatever price she’d quote spoke volumes. He was a man willing to pay for whatever he wanted. She completed the transaction, processing his credit card and returning it to him. “My assistant will be in within the hour and, if you want, she can gift wrap them for you.”

      Xavier smiled and deep lines appeared along his lean jaw. “I would really appreciate that.” And for the second time that day, he’d filled out a gift card to his sister. Six years older than Denise, he had always assumed the role of her protector. He’d put the word out in their neighborhood that if anyone bothered Denise Amaris Eaton, then they’d have to deal with him. Of course, he hadn’t had to deal with bullying or fighting, since it wasn’t tolerated in military school. Anyone who broke the rules was dealt with immediately. Three infractions in a school year meant permanent expulsion.

      Xavier left the shop, skirting a couple standing in front of a shoe store, and headed for a specialty shop featuring tailored menswear. His day off had come with surprises. He’d discovered Sweet Persuasions and he had come into possession of a valuable piece of Civil War history.

      Chapter 2

      Selena adjusted the thermostat on the air-conditioning unit in the bedroom, sank down into a rocking chair, kicked off her shoes, propped her feet on a footstool and closed her eyes. She never realized how tired she really was until she sat down at the end of the day. Once she’d made the decision to open up the shop, it wasn’t the decisions about which pastries she should make for her customers that had caused her so many sleepless nights. But it was the days and hours of running the business and the worries about money that were so exhausting.

      Originally she’d considered staying open six days a week, but that would have left her little or no time to herself. In the end she decided to remain open Tuesday through Friday 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. She closed at four on Saturdays to keep her standing appointment to get her hair and nails done. Sundays were relegated to cleaning her apartment, doing laundry and attending church services. Mondays were set aside for banking and baking.

      Selena opened her eyes, and stared at the bedroom furnishings she’d chosen as meticulously as she decorated the cookies and truffles displayed in Sweet Persuasions’ showcase. As a girl she had always wanted to become an interior decorator, but that dream changed when she was bitten by the acting bug. Performing on stage and in front of cameras became her passion. But her world was shattered when she had to give up her acting career after her life was threatened.

      It wasn’t often Selena thought about what she’d sacrificed to start over, but retreating to the two-bedroom apartment above the shop that had become her sanctuary made it all worthwhile. Cloistered in her bedroom, she was able to relax and sleep in comfort and in peace.

      The sound of the telephone ringing interrupted her musings. She picked up the cordless receiver without looking at the caller ID display—something she wouldn’t have done when she lived in California.

      “Hello.”

      “Hey, you.”

      Selena smiled upon hearing her sister-in-law’s greeting. “Hey, Christy. How are you?”

      “Pregnant!”

      Her heart jumped. She knew her brother and his wife had been trying to have a baby, and after more than ten years of marriage Keith and Christine had begun talking adoption. “No!”

      “Yes, and with twins.”

      “I can’t believe I’m going to become an aunt.”

      “If everything goes well, then you’ll become a double aunt.”

      “When is the baby… I guess I should say when are the babies due?” Selena asked.

      “March fifteenth.”

      Selena calculated that Christine was approximately twelve weeks into her pregnancy. She found it odd that when she’d spoken to her mother, Geneva Yates, she hadn’t mentioned she was going to be a grandmother. Perhaps, she mused, her brother and sister-in-law didn’t want to say anything until after the first trimester.

      “Do you know the sex of the babies?” she asked.

      A soft chuckle came through the earpiece. “One looks like a boy, but the doctor couldn’t tell about the other one.”

      “Perhaps you’ll get one of each.”

      “That would be nice,” Christine crooned. “Enough talk about me. How’s business?”

      Staring at the rose color on her pedicured toes, the corners of Selena’s mouth tilted upward when she smiled. “Business is better than I’d anticipated, especially the mail orders.”

      “Maybe one of these days you’ll be a completely mail-order business.”

      “Maybe,” she said, noncommittally. Sweet Persuasions had only been open for six

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