LITMIR.BIZ

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briefcase and sat behind the wide oak desk. He slipped reading glasses on his nose, opened the folder and picked up the pages inside. He began to read without preamble.

      “I, Lionel Charles Lewis, being of sound mind and body…”

      Those words, more than any spoken thus far, brought the truth home to Lindy. Pops was gone. She was alone. Chester’s voice droned in her ears, but like Reverend Hollister’s eulogy yesterday, Lindy couldn’t concentrate on the words.

      Never-to-be-repeated scenes filled her memory. Pops tucking a frightened little girl into bed, reminding her that her parents would always be alive in her heart. Pops feeding her cheese grits and wiping away her tears as she struggled through the forgettable woes of puberty. Pops welcoming her home after she’d left Atlanta like a coward, slipping away without a word to her husband.

      How would she survive without his strength? His love? Her knees knocked together and her teeth began to chatter.

      I’m losing it.

      No, she couldn’t lose control. She locked her knees and clenched her jaw. Pops would not appreciate a weepy show of emotions. Respect for the man who’d raised her since she’d been orphaned at the age of eight demanded she pack away her tears.

      Determinedly, she dragged her attention back to Chester, who was still reading her grandfather’s words out loud.

      “…a long and happy life. I’ve done a few things I’m not proud of, and I’ve thanked God every day of my life for the love of a good woman. Lindy girl, you’re a lot like your grandmother. You’ve got her good heart. I can only hope you turn out to be as understanding and forgiving as my Muriel.”

      A postmortem apology? Lindy couldn’t contain the sob that hiccuped from between her lips.

      Her skin tingled as Travis’s hand intertwined with hers. She tried to jerk away, but his fingers flexed, holding her hand in place. The strength of his grip offered much-needed reassurance. Her fingers relaxed beneath his. Lindy knew his support was temporary. But for a moment, she didn’t feel so alone.

      “Lindy girl,” Chester’s voice continued, but the words were pure Pops, “I’ve loved you since the night you drew your first breath. All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness. In the months to come, I hope you can remember that.

      “So, to the business at hand. I, Lionel Charles Lewis, leave my entire estate to my granddaughter, Lindy Lewis Monroe, and her husband, Travis Monroe. I make but one stipulation. For a period of no less than one hundred and fifty-four days, they must both reside at the Lewis Family Farm as husband and wife. Should either party refuse, my entire estate shall become a refuge for New Zealand swamp frogs. Neither party shall benefit in any way from this transaction.”

      No, Pops. That’s over. He never wanted me.

      Travis’s grip became painful, but Lindy welcomed the discomfort, sure that without it, she’d have slid to the floor.

      Turning her head to study Travis, she found him staring holes into Chester. She noted the muscle jumping again at his jawline. Angry waves rolled off him.

      His anger didn’t have anything on hers. For him, this was just a bump in the road. She could lose everything.

      “How dare he!” Lindy pulled her hand free from Travis’s iron grip and jumped to her feet. “How dare you write that fool thing up, Chester. You can’t really expect us to honor such drivel.”

      “Trust me, girl, I did everything I could to talk him out of it, but you know how stubborn he was. I knew if I didn’t draft the papers, he’d find someone else who would. Someone less discreet.” Chester’s mouth folded into a grim frown.

      Lindy stalked around the guest chairs, into the open space in the middle of the room. She needed to move before she exploded. One hundred and fifty-four days. She’d lose her mind, cooped up with Travis for that long.

      And what the hell were New Zealand swamp frogs?

      Lindy paced to the door and back, rubbing her fingertips against her throbbing temples. Her heart pounded against her chest hard enough to bruise the skin.

      Travis remained frozen in his chair, narrowed eyes riveted to Chester.

      “Why, Chester?” she asked. “Why did he do this? And such an odd time period? What’s the significance of one hundred fifty-four days?”

      “Lionel felt the two of you gave up too soon. A marriage takes time and work, especially when you hit a rough patch.” The old man leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his rounded belly. “One hundred and fifty-four days is how long the two of you lived together as man and wife.”

      Stunned, Lindy stopped pacing. The muscles in her legs went limp. She slithered into her vacant chair.

      She’d been certain one hundred and fifty-four days was forever. But as a measuring stick for her marriage, it sounded pathetically short.

      The desk chair squeaked as Chester sat forward. “Lionel figured if he forced you two together, you’d find a way to work things out. He didn’t want pride or fear to cause you to wait until it was too late.” His voice gentled. “He knew tying up the farm was the only way to get you to make a move, Lindy.”

      Her grandfather’s best friend swiveled his chair, meeting Travis’s stare. After silently studying the younger man for several long seconds, Chester spoke, his gentle tone forgotten.

      “Lionel spoke highly of you, young man. Felt certain you’d be there for Lindy if her dreams were threatened. I’d say the fact you haven’t already stormed out of here proves the old goat got a few things right, even if his method was a little off.”

      “A little off!” Lindy leaped back to her feet. “He’s trying to control our lives. Did he really think we’d just roll over and say, ‘Oh, what the heck? The old man’s probably got a point. Why don’t we just ignore what we want and give this a shot?’”

      Travis’s hand rested on her shoulder. She hadn’t even heard him stand. She didn’t shrug off the contact, but she did resist the urge to lean backward. It would be so easy to lose herself in the temporary security of his arms.

      “Lindy, calm down.” He tenderly squeezed her shoulder. “Your grandfather must’ve known he wasn’t well. What he’s done is meddlesome. And insulting. But I think it was his way of looking out for you.”

      “Why can’t anyone see I can take care of myself!” Hands fisted, she itched to pace, but there was nowhere left to go. Dominating men surrounded her.

      Travis’s other hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning her so quickly she nearly lost her balance. She raised her face to his, shocked to see anger boiling in his eyes.

      “That’s always been your biggest problem.” Travis’s voice was low, despite the way his chest heaved. His hands fell from her shoulders and he took a step backward, as if he didn’t trust himself not to take a swing at her. She’d never seen this side of Travis.

      “Just because you’re capable of taking care of everything yourself doesn’t mean you’ve failed if you let someone else handle things sometimes. Or, God forbid, share the burden. You think your fears make you weak.” He pivoted with military precision, turning his back on her, stalking to the window.

      “Being strong doesn’t mean doing it all by yourself,” he told her over his shoulder. “Sometimes, it takes more strength to trust someone than it does to go it alone.”

      Tears burned Lindy’s eyes. “When you trust someone and they let you down, it hurts worse than going it alone!”

      “Yeah, I know.” Travis turned and found her eyes. “You taught me that lesson.”

      Travis stared out the study window, searching the clouds for answers, ignoring Chester Warfield’s perusal. An awkward, suffocating silence engulfed the room.

      What the hell was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t let Lindy

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