His Wedding Date (The Second Chance Love Series, Book 2) (18 page)

Shelly had been sure that someone had made some dreadful mistake, and she'd tried to tell them, but she hadn't been able to make them understand. Despite all her tears and screams and pleas, she hadn't been able to convince them to stop.

She wondered if all of this was ever going to stop. Was she destined to be all alone on this earth? Some people were, she knew. Maybe she was one of them.

She flinched at the distinctive sound of dirt being thrown on top of a coffin.

"Shelly," Brian said, taking her by the arms and turning her gently to face him. "You don't need to see this. You know you don't."

She realized she was breathing hard, knew she was probably scaring him, and she tried to remember if she'd ever told him that awful story about her mother's funeral.

She must have, she decided. She'd told him everything when she'd been a child and he'd been her hero.

"It's time to go," he said. "It's cold out here, and you're shaking."

Yes, she was shaking. It took her a moment to realize it. But she still wasn't ready to get into his car and leave.

Brian pulled her behind an old tree so that its massive trunk blocked her view of the grave, and he stood rigidly at her side. "You know," he said, once he had her full attention. "I'll always be here for you."

The breath left her body in a rush. She didn't like the way he read her emotions so easily and that he knew exactly what she needed to hear.

"For as long as you'll let me," he vowed. "For as long as you want me. You still believe that, don't you, Shel?"

"Yes," she said, the word not much more than a sob. He'd said the same thing to her, maybe not the exact words, but the same sentiments, when she was ten or eleven years old.

She'd believed in him, too. She still did.

When her father had died, he'd been incredible. She'd felt so alone, and he'd been her anchor. She'd clung to him then, on a day much like today, in another cemetery, six years ago.

"Oh, Brian."

"Just explain something to me," he said. "Try to explain it to yourself at the same time. Tell me why the hell you won't let me help you now?"

Why? Because she was twenty-six years old and she couldn't keep waiting for him forever. Because right now she was more vulnerable than she'd ever been in her life.

She could easily have given him a dozen reasons, if she'd been able to get a word past her throat.

"I hate this," he said, his hands in a white-knuckle grip at his sides. "I can't stand it."

She jumped when he brought his fist down hard against the trunk of the tree.

"Isn't there something I can do? Anything? To fix this damned mess I've made of things?"

Wordlessly she shook her head and hugged her arms to her chest.

"I want to help you, Shel. I have to. I can't stand seeing you this way and not being able to do anything about it, and I hate the part I've played in making you this miserable."

"It's not your fault," she said. She wondered if he was talking about one night or her whole life. She was thinking of both.

He couldn't help the way he felt. He couldn't help it that she wanted things he couldn't give. And he hadn't forced her into anything that night in Tallahassee.

She'd gone willingly, even eagerly, into his arms, and she'd known from the start that it would most likely lead to nothing but heartbreak. She'd dreamed about being with him for all of her adult life, and she just hadn't been able to turn down the chance to be with him that night.

"Well, if it's not my fault," he said, "then who the hell's fault is it?"

"Nobody's," she said.

"Then how did everything get so damned screwed up?"

"I don't know. I don't know much of anything anymore. I just... I miss Charlie. I miss my father and my mother and... "

She should have closed her eyes or turned away then. She should have done something to block the image of him standing there in front of her.

Rock solid, she'd told herself more than once, and the description had never been more fitting. He was a man a woman could depend upon, one whom she could trust with her life.

He would find someone to love some day, someone who'd love him back, and she would be one lucky woman. It wouldn't be Shelly, but that couldn't stop the longing inside her for him.

"I miss you," she told him.

"I miss you, too, Shelly." He held his arms open wide to her. "Let me help you now."

And she did. She simply didn't have the strength to resist so tempting an offer. She didn't even have to take that first step toward him. She opened her arms, and he filled them.

Nothing had ever felt so right as his arms hauling her up against him in a fierce embrace. She felt the need in him, maybe as strong as it was in her, just to feel her body against his.

She needed this desperately, needed this touch more than she needed her next breath. And as always, she didn't see how she was ever going to be able to let him go.

Except, she had to. She'd promised herself. No more of this. No more waiting. No more wanting. No more dreaming of this life she could not have.

This was just a bad time, she told herself. An extraordinarily bad time, and he was here, helping her through it. But it wasn't going to last.

She'd already taken steps to get away from here, and she was going to follow through. If she was really smart, she wouldn't even tell him where she was going. She'd just go, as soon as they figured out what had happened to Charlie and did something with Charlie's firm, hopefully to take care of Charlie's wife in the future.

Then, Shelly would go.

So these days were going to be her last with Brian.

* * *

That afternoon, after the reading of the will, Brian and Shelly found themselves in a meeting with Charlie Williams's attorney, George Ayers, about what would happen to the engineering firm and to Charlie's personal assets.

The will had been simple and exactly what Shelly had expected. Charlie had left everything to his wife, but the rest of it was hard to take in.

George Ayers didn't mince words, and he got right to the point. Charlie was probably broke.

"How could he be broke?" Shelly asked.

"I'm not sure that he is now," the attorney said. "We'll have to gather up his financial records and see. But he was close to it the last time he spoke to me about it. And he was quite concerned about what would happen to his wife if he passed away before she did."

Brian jumped in. "What about the business? It had to be making money for him."

"Maybe it is now. I hope so. But there was a time several years ago, before his wife went into the nursing home, that the business was on the brink of bankruptcy. Apparently he'd been spending too much time away from it, and things had started to deteriorate."

"I know that was true in the past," Shelly said, "but I thought he'd turned things around."

"I hope he has, for his wife's sake. That's why I wanted to meet with the two of you today," the attorney said, opening the thick file in front of him. "His wife's medical care is quite expensive."

"What about the insurance?" Brian asked.

"They have no health insurance. When his wife's medical bills started mounting, the insurance company raised the premiums so high Mr. Williams couldn't pay them anymore. And no one would write a new policy that would cover her condition."

Shelly had known that, but still, she never thought Charlie was under that much financial pressure.

"Is there any life insurance?" Brian asked.

"There was a few years ago, but I'm not sure if he was able to keep paying the premiums. And even if he did, we have to wonder whether the money will be eaten up by his debts."

"What about the business?"

"Will it have to be sold?" Shelly hated that idea.

"If we can find someone who's willing to buy it," Ayers said. "I'm not sure what kind of value it would have. Many times the value of a small business is tied up in the owner's presence and his expertise in running it. Without that owner, we often see little value left in a business."

"What can we do?" Shelly asked.

"Well, Mrs. Williams is going to need every penny her husband has left. He was very concerned that she stays in the private medical facility where she is now until all his assets are exhausted. Unfortunately I don't think that's going to take long. But then that's where the two of you come in."

He turned to Brian. "Charlie asked that you run the business in his absence until it's either sold or closed. I understand that's something you've done before when he's been away."

"Yes," Brian said.

"I hope you're willing to do so again."

"Of course," he said.

"Good. Mr. Williams has directed us to place all his assets in trust for his wife, and he's asked that Miss Wilkerson oversee his wife's trust fund and serve as her legal guardian, since her condition has left her unable to oversee her own affairs.

"He's told me that he trusts you implicitly, Miss Wilkerson, and that he's sure you'll do the best you can to see that his wife is well cared for in whatever time she has left."

Shelly thought, then why didn't he tell me what was wrong? Why didn't he trust me enough to let me help him? What had he been caught in the middle of, and why did this have to happen to him?

"This is a big responsibility," the lawyer said, looking at her. "There are a lot of decisions relating to her medical condition and treatment that you'll have to make, in addition to the financial decisions. I hope you're willing to assume those duties."

"Yes," she said, so overwhelmed by all that had happened in the past week she was practically numb to it all now.

She closed her eyes and pictured Marion the last time she'd seen her, to tell her about Charlie's death. Marion had thought Shelly was her daughter, and she'd acted as if she hadn't comprehended a word Shelly had said about Charlie.

And now it was up to Shelly to see that the woman was taken care of. It was an awesome responsibility. Marion was quite childlike in the advanced stages of her disease.

"What do we do first?" Brian asked.

"Most of all, we need to see where we are as far as the assets are concerned," the attorney said. "We'll need a complete inventory of his personal and professional assets. We could hire someone to do that, but it could be expensive and... "

"Let us see what we can get together for you before you hire someone to do it," Brian said.

"Yes," Shelly agreed. "The business records should be no problem. Most everything's on Charlie's computer at the office."

He had liked to control every aspect of the business. Once he'd put his wife in the nursing home, he'd done nothing but work and visit her.

"Well, now that we have that taken care of," the attorney said, reaching for another envelope, "I have a set of Mr. Williams's keys for his house, his car, his office and his safe-deposit box. I'll give those to you, along with a list he made a year ago of his assets. Maybe you'll find there's still something left somewhere."

Shelly took the keys and found herself staring at them while she listened to some of the more technical legal procedures they would go through before the will was probated and she was actually made Marion Williams's legal guardian.

The attorney finally stood and held out his hand to Brian, then to her, as she hastily rose from her chair, clutching the keys.

"I'll be waiting to hear from you both about what we have to work with for Mrs. Williams's trust fund," he said.

Chapter 12

It was strange to be at Charlie's house, going through the ring of keys to find the one that fit the front door. He'd never be here again. And now she and Brian were expected to sift through all his things, hoping to find something of value that would allow his wife to live the rest of her life in whatever comfort was to be found at her expensive nursing home.

"Sure you want to do this?" Brian asked again as he stood beside her on the front steps.

They'd come straight here after meeting with the attorney.