Wife Wanted Page 3

  Reluctantly Natalie took it and opened it up. It was that day’s edition of the Star Tribune.

  “Bottom right,” her mother muttered.

  Natalie turned the paper over. And there was her father’s face. Bad Business at Fortune Industries, the headline read.

  “I just…I need to talk,” Erica said, giving Bernie, who had been waiting patiently for her to notice him, an absentminded pat on the head. Then she let out a small moan. “Oh, Nat, I just don’t know what’s happening with him. Do you know what that article says?”

  Natalie shook her head.

  “It dredges up all the old dirt all over again, accusing your father openly of sabotaging his own company. There’s a lot about the total insanity of his selling his personal stock to that awful, incomprehensible Monica Malone.”

  Like Erica and Natalie’s sister, Allie, Monica Malone had once been a Fortune Cosmetics spokesmodel—the very first one, decades ago. And along with becoming Fortune’s Face, the woman had become the reigning queen of the silver screen. No one in the family could stand her, but it seemed she was always in the background somewhere, stirring up trouble—and never more so than recently, since Grandma Kate’s death. She’d been buying up stock in the company wherever she could find it. And when it came out six months before that Jake had turned his own shares over to her, no one had known what to make of it—and they still didn’t, because Jake adamantly refused to give a single reason for what he had done.

  “And that’s not all that’s in there,” Erica continued. “There’s speculation about the fires at the Fortune labs, a rundown on the threats against Allie, a description of the company break-ins, and if you turn the page you’ll be treated to a chart that shows how far the company stock has fallen. Jake gets the blame for not dealing with anything right.

  “Oh, what’s happened to him?” Erica moaned. “I just… I still can’t understand why he would do such a thing. He’s always put his duty to the family and the company above everything else.”

  Natalie was scanning the article. She looked up. “I can’t see anything new here. It’s just more of the same old stuff.”

  Her mother sniffed. “Yes, and now even more people know all about it, since it’s a front-page story in the Sunday edition.”

  Natalie asked carefully, “Mom, what can you do about this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you going over to see Dad? Is that it?”

  “No. I can’t do that. You know I can’t. Jake and I are hardly speaking.”

  “Well, then, maybe it’s a mistake to get all worked up.”

  Erica shook her head. “I can’t help myself. I’ve been furious with your father for a long time now. But lately, I… Nat, a woman can’t just forget all about a man she’s spent thirty years of her life with.”

  Natalie knew what was really bothering her mother: Erica still loved Jake. And Jake still loved her. Natalie wished they would work through their differences and reunite. But she was not going to get sucked into the family drama this time around. She had spent too many years playing confessor, comforter and caregiver to her family—as well as to the men in her life. And now she was bound and determined to make things different for herself.

  “Nat…”

  “What?”

  “You know, if anyone could get through to your father, it would be you. You’re so reasonable and level-headed, and you always know just what to say to get people to open up to you.”

  Natalie looked straight into her mother’s gorgeous green eyes. “Mom, we have talked about this. I won’t play go-between. Not anymore. And that’s that.”

  Erica was quiet. Somewhere in the trees beside the house, a bird trilled out a few bars of song. Then Erica nodded. “Of course. You’re right. I know you are.”

  In spite of her determination not to play the role of rescuer, Natalie ached for her mother. Within Erica there had always been a deep vein of dissatisfaction, of restlessness, though the world saw only a beautiful mask of cool ice-princess control. Lately, since Erica and Jake had separated, the veneer of cool control seemed to be cracking around the edges, while the fitful unhappiness was more and more obvious.

  Natalie tucked the paper under one arm and put the other around her mother’s proud, model-straight shoulders. “Come on inside. I have some iced tea already brewed.”

  Her mother perked up a little. “You’re a lifesaver, Nat. If we could just sit and talk for a while, I know I’ll feel better.”

  “And that’s just what we’ll do. Come on.”

  But Erica had stepped outside her own misery enough to notice what Natalie was wearing. She stood back. “What in the world have you been up to?”

  “Dress-up.” Natalie was glad for the chance to lighten the mood. She turned in a circle, vamping. “Do I look fabulous, or what?”

  Erica groaned. “Or what.”

  Natalie shimmied her shoulders and shook her behind. “You’re just jealous, that’s all. You cool, understated types never get to wear the bangles and beads.”

  Erica tipped her blond head to the side. “You know, fifty years ago, it would have been showstopping.”

  “Fifty years ago, I’m sure it was.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I found a trunk in the attic.”

  Erica laughed, then considered. “That dress was not Kate’s. It’s too flashy for Kate.”

  “I thought the same thing. But who knows? Whoever it belonged to, it was in the trunk, and I couldn’t resist trying it on.”

  Both women grinned, then grew somber. And then, as so rarely happened now, Natalie was the child again, looking to her mother for comfort.

  “I miss her, Mom.”

  And Erica was the one putting a consoling arm around her daughter. “We all do, honey.”

  Natalie leaned into her mother’s embrace. “It’s as if the world is spiraling out of control, since we lost her.”

  “I know. Oh, I know.”

  “I can’t help feeling that if she were here, everything would be all right. She’d get right to the bottom of this…problem with Dad. And she’d take care of that awful Monica Malone. And she’d know right away if Tracey Ducet was the phony we all thinks she is.” Tracey, who was the image of Natalie’s aunt Lindsay, had recently surfaced claiming to be Lindsay’s lost twin— and thus the heir to a huge chunk of Fortune assets. Sterling Foster, the Fortune family’s longtime attorney, had been investigating her claim, privately saying it was false, but unable to prove anything, since the FBI records seemed to have been lost somehow.

  “But Kate is not here,” Erica said sadly. “And we must accept that.”

  Natalie leaned even closer to her mother. At the same time, she felt for the chain around her own neck, and the rosebud charm at the end of it. The rosebud was a talisman from her grandmother; Kate had left a different charm to each of her children and grandchildren. “Mom?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Sometimes I feel that she is here. Do you know what I mean? That she’s watching over us. That she’ll never let real harm come to any of us.”

  “Oh, Nat,” Erica murmured tenderly, “you always were the most sentimental of all my babies.”

  “Okay, so it’s corny. But still, it’s how I feel.”

  Erica made a sound of understanding and stroked Natalie’s hair.

  Then Natalie stepped back. “Now come on.” She took her mother’s hand. “Let’s go in. I could use a little iced tea myself.”

  Hand in hand, mother and daughter walked up the white-pebbled walk between the rose trees to the house.

  Neither of them noticed that Bernie didn’t follow. The big dog had wandered down to the boat dock behind the house.

  And during the whole time Natalie and her mother were sharing iced tea and sympathy at the breakfast table, Bernie sat at the end of the dock, staring longingly out over the water to where a blue-and-white patio boat floated lazily on the slow currents of the lake.

  “This
is pure foolishness, Kate. And you know it.” Sterling Foster rose from the pilot’s chair of the patio boat and went to stand in the bright sun at the bow.

  Kate watched him. He was a handsome man, tall and still trim, even in his mid-sixties, his shoulders straight and square. His hair was thick and white as snow. Kate had always liked him and admired him. In the past eighteen months, since the plane crash, she supposed it had gone beyond mere liking. But she stopped there. Her whole life was on hold until this crisis was solved. She had never planned to stay “dead” for this long, but she couldn’t figure out how to come back without destroying all that she had accomplished—and all she had yet to do.

  Kate’s best friend wasn’t pleased with her now, though. He turned and focused penetrating blue eyes on her. “You’re a very distinctive-looking woman.”

  “Why, thank you, Sterling.”

  He glared at her. “Dark glasses and a big hat aren’t going to hide you from someone who knows you.”

  Smiling a little, Kate glanced down at herself. She wore a teal-blue silk tunic and trousers to match, a wide straw hat tied with a scarf, and large dark glasses, which were intended to camouflage her face. “Don’t be testy, Sterling.”

  He let out a low grunt of disgust. “I’m not testy. I’m realistic. You lived at the estate for years. Most of the people in Travistown knew you personally. Anyone floating by on another boat might recognize you.”

  Kate gave him a small shrug of her shoulders and looked away, out toward the farmhouse where, years and years ago, she and Ben had been happy. Her sweet, bighearted Bernie was there, sitting so patiently on the end of the dock. The dog had been waiting in the same spot for nearly an hour now. Kate’s heart went out to him. He would have to wait a while longer before he would see his old mistress again.

  Kate wondered how Natalie was doing. Since her “death,” more than one of Kate’s loved ones had stumbled upon love and fulfillment. The truth was, Kate had been taking a secret pleasure in a little matchmaking—from beyond the grave, as it were.

  And in the past few weeks, she’d been thinking of Natalie. A lot. Sterling, who kept her informed about all her children and grandchildren, had told her that Natalie and Joel Baines had broken up. Kate thought that was great news. She’d met Joel more than once, and she hadn’t been impressed. Now maybe Natalie could begin looking for the real thing.

  Sterling interrupted Kate’s thoughts. “I will remind you, Kate, that you’re the one who keeps insisting you can do more behind the scenes to discover who’s trying to destroy the Fortune name and all it stands for than you ever could working in the spotlight. If you’re recognized today—”

  “I know, Sterling. I know. And you’re right. It would be…unfortunate if I were recognized. But I won’t be.”

  Sterling’s response was a muttered expletive, and nothing more.

  Kate softened her tone. “Sterling, please try to understand. I needed to come here today. So much of my life has been here….” She turned her head away from the farmhouse, toward the huge estate that she and Ben had built together in the first, heady years of their success. She couldn’t see it from here, of course, but she knew it was out there, that it stood as proud and indomitable as ever, a huge, columned edifice of echoing, high-ceilinged rooms. At one time, in spite of all its opulent grandeur, it had been home.

  Of course, when Kate thought of the estate these days, she thought of Jacob, too. Jacob lived there now. Alone.

  “Kate?” Now Sterling was sounding almost gentle.

  Kate shook herself. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

  Sterling’s thoughts paralleled her own. “Jake is a problem. If this stock situation isn’t handled, he could lose everything you and Ben worked your lives to build.”

  Kate stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Not now. Please.” She turned her head once more, so that she could see the farmhouse again. Her beloved Bernie was still there, waiting for her….

  “What’re you up to, boy? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  The dog turned and whined a little, then looked at the lake once again.

  Natalie shaded her eyes and stared out at the faraway patio boat that floated on the wind-ruffled surface of the water. It was one of the rentals.

  “Sorry, big fella.” She patted his flank. “It’s no one we know. Come on, let’s go inside. I want to change out of this dress and haul that trunk back up to the attic where it belongs.” Natalie turned for the bank. But she only got a few steps before she realized the dog hadn’t fallen in behind her. She slapped her thigh. “Come on.”

  With one last, longing look at the water, the dog did as she commanded.

  “Look, Sterling,” Kate said. “It’s Natalie.” Kate lifted the pair of binoculars she’d set on the seat. “Oh, my. She’s been up in the attic, I see.” Kate recognized the spangled dress and sparkly platform shoes. It had been long out-of-date when Kate herself wore it—for a Halloween costume at a party twenty years before.

  The faraway figures of the woman and the dog turned and walked toward the farmhouse. “She needs love.” Kate lowered the binoculars. “Real love, a man who’ll give to her as she’s always given to everyone else. That’s why I left her the farmhouse. Ben and I found such joy there. Maybe she will, too. And Bernie will help. That dog has a nose for people. He never did care much for Joel Baines.” She laughed. “Remember the first time Natalie brought Joel to the estate? Bernie chased him into the butler’s pantry and kept him there for ten minutes, until the rest of us figured out what was going on and called Bernie off.”

  Kate could see that Sterling was trying not to smile. “I don’t believe I remember that,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, you do. You were there for dinner that night. You tried not to laugh then, too, as I recall. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is, Natalie is free of Joel now. Free to find a man who adores her and appreciates her and will spend his life showing her just how much.”

  Sterling put on a disapproving frown. “Don’t you think maybe you’re carrying this matchmaking thing a little too far, Kate?”

  “No, I don’t. Not at all. One can never take anything too far, if love is the prize.”

  Sterling looked doubtful. “But what was the point of the stipulation that the house has to remain occupied at all times until Natalie marries?”

  Kate smoothed a wrinkle from her silk trousers. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on dying for quite a while, and you know how I always fiddled with my bequests. At the time I thought it sounded right.”

  Sterling grunted. “Well, what you’ve done is made it all more complicated. Every time the poor woman wants to go somewhere, she has to find someone to stay at the house.”

  Kate chuckled. “She seems to be managing. And I want to know everything that’s happening with her. Keep in close touch with her, won’t you?”

  “You know I always do.”

  The next day, Natalie was cutting roses to put in the parlor when Sterling Foster arrived in his big maroon Lincoln Town Car. Natalie ran out to meet him. In many ways, over the years, the family’s longtime attorney had become like another member of the family. She greeted him with a hug and led him into the house.

  “So, what are you up to lately?” he asked as she poured him a tall glass of lemonade.

  She told him all about the details of the cruise. He already knew she was going, of course, since he was the one who managed her trust fund.

  He listened to her plans and said he thought they sounded terrific. “But remember,” he cautioned, “by the terms of your grandmother’s will, this house must stay occupied and Bernie must be cared for here.”

  She reassured him that she hadn’t forgotten, and explained all about the great tenants she’d found. “They’re moving in on the twelfth, a while before I’m slated to leave. But it’s all worked out perfectly, because Rick says it’s fine with him if I stay right here until I’m ready to go.”

  “Rick?”

  “Yes. Richard Dalton. His littl
e boy is named Toby. Rick’s an architect. With Langley, Bates and Shears, in Minneapolis.”

  “Did you have him fill out an application?”

  “Of course.” She grinned. “And I even read it over. That’s how I found out he’s an architect.”

  “Meaning you’re not planning to check him out.”

  “I’m an intuitive kind of person, Sterling. You know that.”

  He gazed at her patiently. “May I have a look?”

  “Oh, Sterling….”

  “Be intuitive, Natalie. But let me check him out.”

  Natalie hesitated. She really did think Rick and Toby were just the tenants she’d been seeking. But then, she’d also thought that Joel Baines was the man she’d spend her life with.

  “Oh, all right.” She went to the study and came back with the papers Rick had filled out. “If you find out something bad, you’d better tell me right away.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Three

  The phone was ringing as Natalie staggered in from the small enclosed side porch that served as a mudroom in winter. She was lugging several bags from a number of exclusive Minneapolis boutiques. She dropped the bags inside the door and raced for the kitchen extension.

  It was Sterling, calling to tell her that Rick Dalton had checked out just fine.

  “It’s about time you called me,” she chided. “They’re due to move in two days from now.”

  “Sorry. I wanted to do a thorough job.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “And there’s no problem, anyway. I’m sure he’ll make a fine tenant.”

  “I told you that over a week ago.”

  “I know, I know. Intuition wins again. But isn’t it nice to know that the facts support your instincts?”

  Natalie agreed that it was. Smiling, she thanked Sterling for looking out for her. Then, after promising to meet him for lunch before she left for the Mediterranean, she said goodbye.