Stoneview Estate. Leona Karr

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Stoneview Estate - Leona Karr


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there was something about the way she held herself that warned him she was, indeed, Robyn Valcourt. He had the impression from their body language that she’d been instructing the man about some task.

      Brian offered a friendly wave as he walked toward them, and without waiting for any response, quickly introduced himself.

      “Hi, I’m Brian Keller. My great-uncle is Joseph Keller. I responded to an invitation to the birthday celebration,” he added. “Regretfully, Joe is too ill to come.”

      “Joe Keller, the fighter!” The man’s ruddy face lost its glower as he broke into a wide smile. He looked to be somewhere in his early forties, with sandy hair, bushy eyebrows and ruddy features. “Well, I’ll be. My dad was one of Joe Keller’s biggest fans. Pa was working at one of the neighboring estates when Keller lived here. They were about the same age. He won a pile of money on Joe’s fights. Lost a pile, too,” he admitted with an even broader smile.

      “Is that so?” Brian laughed with him.

      The man stuck out a callused hand. “Nick Bellows.”

      “Nice to meet you, Nick. I’ll have to tell Joe about his secret admirer.”

      There was nothing of Nick’s open-armed friendliness in Robyn Valcourt’s manner when Nick introduced her as “Miss Valcourt.” She simply nodded and gave him a cool, “Hello.”

      Even though she was better looking than Brian had imagined, her distant manner didn’t surprise him. Obviously, his inopportune arrival had put her on guard.

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Valcourt,” he responded politely. “I’ve been looking forward to visiting Stoneview.”

      “And you’ll be coming back for the celebration, Mr. Keller?” she asked politely, but in a tone that clearly emphasized the affair was more than a week away.

      “Yes, of course.” Brian glanced innocently toward the house, which was approached by a long red cement sidewalk from the water’s edge. “Joe has some very fond memories of this place. I was hoping you might not mind if I had a look around before the busy day.”

      “We’re on a tight schedule,” she answered quickly.

      “I understand. A big event like this must take a lot of planning.”

      She gave him a fleeting smile as if she appreciated his recognition of the hard work that went into a centennial celebration.

      “We’ve got plenty to do before then,” Nick agreed as he waved an exasperated hand toward a two-story boathouse, where large doors had fallen inward and crushed the two boats inside. “Look at that, would you?”

      “Wow, what happened?” Brian asked, hoping to keep the conversation going while he figured out how to get past Miss Robyn Valcourt’s resistance.

      “A blasted ice storm last winter!” Nick swore. “Strong winds whipped everything in sight. All the custom-made repair parts have finally arrived. Tore the boathouse doors right off their hinges. Don’t know how I can get it ready in time.” He directed this last sentence to Robyn, and added, “You’ll have to explain to your grandmother that I’m not a miracle worker—especially with all the other stuff I’ve got to do.”

      “Maybe I could help out some way?” Brian suggested smoothly. “My plans are to just hang around Chataqua, waiting for the big day. My dad and I built a cabin a couple of summers ago. I learned to use a hammer and saw pretty good. I’d be glad to have something to do.”

      Nick raised a questioning eyebrow at Robyn. “Sounds good to me.”

      “We wouldn’t want to impose,” Robyn said smoothly, a firm dismissal in her tone.

      “I wouldn’t have offered if that were the case.” Brian gave her his best people-management smile.

      “What kind of business are you in, Mr. Keller?”

      “Oh, I have my fingers in quite a few projects. I’m an independent business analyst—on vacation.”

      “He could bunk with me in the cottage,” Nick suggested. “We’ve got that extra room, and you were just saying that we might have an overflow from the house.”

      “I don’t know, Mr. Keller—”

      “Brian,” he quickly corrected.

      The way her blue eyes, clear and deep as a summer sky, measured him, he knew he’d made a mistake moving into familiarity so soon. He’d have to be more careful. Undoubtedly, she was used to fending off people.

      She turned to Nick. “Grandmother is planning a fireworks display on the lake in the evening. Getting the boathouse in shape is a priority.”

      “Along with a dozen others,” Nick muttered.

      “I know.”

      “With an extra hand, it’s more likely to get ready in time. I’m not even sure I could manage clearing out the debris by myself,” Nick insisted.

      “All right, then. We accept your offer, Mr. Keller. If you don’t have other plans?”

      “No, my time is my own,” he assured her. “Spending a few days at Stoneview will be more than a pleasure.”

      AS ROBYN LEFT THE MEN and started walking up the long sidewalk to the house, she could feel them watching her. She kept her head up and her carriage straight. If Nick hadn’t been running on overload, she wouldn’t have even considered accepting the offer of this stranger. With a dozen “have-to-dos” in the house and grounds waiting for his attention, an extra pair of hands would be a godsend. Her grandmother would have a fit about letting a guest move in with them more than a week before the party, but Lynette wasn’t in charge, Robyn reminded herself.

      For weeks, her grandmother had been making plans and giving orders—from a distance, of course. At the moment, Lynette was in the Bahamas. She had decided at the last minute to attend a “divine socialite wedding-of-the-year” that she vowed “just couldn’t be missed.”

      Even Lynette’s loyal hired cook and housekeeper, Olga Dietz, was rebelling at all the extra work. She was a sturdy German woman in her forties who had been with Robyn’s grandparents since their duties at the German embassy almost twenty years ago. Her husband had died before the Valcourts moved to Stoneview. Mrs. Dietz had never quite become “Americanized,” and her stubborn manner kept Lynette from trying to dictate how to run the kitchen and supervise the day help.

      Every telephone call from Lynette brought more instructions about engaging the right caterers, photographers, florists, entertainers, and getting the house and grounds in perfect condition.

      It wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle the responsibility, Robyn reminded herself. She could. She knew it, and her grandmother knew it. But the truth was that at some deep level she was utterly sick and tired of being reliable, capable and dependable. Robyn longed to get in her car and head north to the oceanside resort where she’d planned to spend her summer vacation. But even as the desire crossed her mind, she knew she’d never do it. Such irresponsible action would be unthinkable. What she didn’t need was an early guest to complicate matters. Under different conditions she might have been more hospitable, but at the moment she wasn’t in the mood to handle any unexpected demands. Already she was having second thoughts about agreeing to accept Brian Keller’s help.

      On some intuitive level, she sensed he was going to be a disruptive force. His manner seemed sincere, but there had been a pure masculine energy about him that she didn’t trust. His clinging white T-shirt accented the breadth and hardness of his chest, and tight jeans followed the shape of his long muscular legs. Dark brown hair was nicely layered, and everything about him seemed calculated to impress any female within a fifty-mile radius. Robyn chided herself for even noticing.

      She purposefully made her way through the dark halls of the house to the library. After sitting down at a massive walnut desk, she turned on the computer to view the full agenda waiting for her attention, and put Brian Keller


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