If you haven't read the Prologue yet, you can find it here. 

Moira Dunbar couldn’t believe she had wasted eight months of her life on Craig Johnson.  She shook her head again, her hair falling well past her shoulders.  She was quietly pretty with her medium brown hair and slender build.  The typical girl next door, except for those green eyes, which lit up if she became excited or upset.

Today, it was upset.  She had actually expected Craig to propose this afternoon.  He had said there was big news, and she should come over right away.  He had applied to some of the largest law firms in the country since passing his bar exam.  She knew because she had helped him with his resume.  She was a great sounding board or so he’d said.  Now, she wondered if he’d ever seen her as anything else.

“No one marries their sounding board,” she said under her breath as she drove the car back to her apartment.  How could she have been so clueless?  He had the champagne poured when she walked into his condo and music playing in the background.

“Oh good, you’re here,” he’d said as she walked in.  “I have something important to tell you.”  Accepting the glass of champagne that he handed her, she sat down and waited for him to continue.  “I got it!  Moira, I got it.  The job in Charleston.”

He was so excited, she smiled.  “I knew you would get one of them.  You did so well on your exam.”

As he passed her chair, he crouched down next to her and said, “I couldn’t have done it without you.  You were my…well, my sounding board.  Anytime, I wasn’t sure about something, talking to you seemed to clarify the situation.”

Sounding board?  Hmm…inspiration would have been more romantic, but she’d work on that, she told herself.

“I’m so glad.  Are you sure this is the one you want?”  She knew the job in New York had been his first choice.

“New York went with someone else, as did Austin, but Charleston was my third choice,” he said.  “And I think it’s a good fit for me.” 

Not us, me.   This wasn’t going so well.  “When do you plan to leave?” she asked.

“Next week.  I can’t wait to get out of Billings.  I’m so sick of snow.”  Rolling his eyes, he continued, “Maybe it’s a good thing New York fell through.  What about you?”

“I could get used to a shorter winter,” she replied, smiling.

“Moira, there’s something I want to ask you,” Craig said, leaning down, his breath brushing her hair. 

“Yes?” she asked.  She wondered if this was it.  Was he going to propose?  They had talked around it for the past few months and now, she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not.

“Moira,” he repeated.  “Do you think I should wear the blue suit or the gray one?”

She stared at him.  “Um, I think either would look fine.”

“Good, because I want to look great when we go out on the town to celebrate.  It’s Saturday night and we should make the most of it.”  He started walking towards the bedroom.

Moira glanced past him to the mess in the room.  Craig was not a tidy person, but she didn’t really mind.  As she looked a little closer, she saw a dark blue, satin nightgown hanging off the foot of the bed.

“Craig,” she said, rising out of her chair, “who does that nightgown belong to?”

Craig tried a nonchalant laugh, but it came out more as a croak.  “Well, Stacy stopped by last night just to compare notes on her resume….and one thing led to another.”  He stopped, suddenly finding an overwhelming interest in the lamp shade next to him.

“She stopped by,” Moira repeated.  “And one thing led to another?’  She shook her head and began walking toward the door. 

“Moira, wait.”  He started after her.  “It’s no big deal.  It’s not like we’re married or anything.” He saw the look she gave him and stopped talking.

“No, we’re not.  And I’m very glad I found out what type of person you really are before investing any more time into this relationship.”

She started to walk out, then stopped.  “By the way,” she said over her shoulder, “the gray suit makes you look fat.”

Moira marched out of the condo, down the sidewalk and got into her car.  She drove away and managed to make it almost ten blocks before pulling over to have a good cry.  What was wrong with her?  Was it too much to want to find someone who had the sense of honor and integrity that only seemed to exist in books and old movies?  She wiped her eyes and finished the drive back to her apartment.

As she walked in, her phone was ringing.  “I do not want to talk to that man ever again,” she said out loud as she checked her caller ID.  But it wasn’t Craig.  It was her cousin Gabriella who never called.  Something was wrong. 

Picking up the phone, Moira asked, “What happened?”

Gabriella McCrae heard the frustration in Moira’s voice.  “Nice to talk to you, too, cuz,” she said, haughtily.

“Sorry,” replied Moira.  “Rough day.”

“I just called to see if you’d checked your mail today,” stated Gabriella.

“No.  Why?  Is something wrong, Gabriella?”  Moira hoped not.  It had already been a long day.

“Why don’t you go get your mail and find out?”  As an afterthought, she added, “And you know I hate the name Gabriella, so please call me Gabbi.”

“As you wish,” replied Moira.  “I’ll be right back.”

Since she was still carrying her phone, Gabbi could hear her walking down the steps and over to the row of mailboxes for the apartment complex. 

“There’s a big manila envelope,” Moira informed her, “and it seems to be from a law firm.  O’Reilly and Finch, Solicitors in Anacortes, according to the return address.”

“That’s the one,” Gabbi said.  “Guess what?  We just inherited a house.  An actual house.”

“Gran?” Moira asked, walking back to her apartment.  She hadn’t known her grandmother very well but remembered her through the eyes of a six-year-old as someone magical and intriguing.  “I didn’t know she was back in the country.”

“Apparently, she got back in June,” said Gabbi.  “According to the letter, that’s when she updated her will.  She leaves everything to us, her grandchildren.”

“Let me read through this and I’ll call you back,” Moira said, suddenly very tired.  “Are you going to be home tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here after five.  I’m working the lunch rush and most of the afternoon.  Talk to you tomorrow,” Gabbi said, then hung up.

Moira slid down onto a stool at the kitchen counter and laid her head on the granite.  It felt cold and suddenly, so did Moira.  She started to cry.  For so many reasons, but she hoped as much for Gran as for herself.

The next day, she called Gabbi back.  Moira had spent the morning going over the paperwork and it was very clear that they were both expected to go to Anacortes for the reading of the will.  She looked around her apartment.  There was nothing keeping her here.  Her job selling advertising space for her parents’ newspaper would be here if she returned.  She rather hoped she would find a reason not to come back. 

The little town just outside of Billings, Montana had never been her dream location.  Too much snow and the summers were too hot.  She had traveled to so many places when she was young, but once her parents bought the paper, they were too busy to leave.  Maybe an adventure and a new location were exactly what she needed.  She was good at selling advertising and that was something she could do anywhere.

As Moira listened to Gabbi’s phone ring several times, she wondered if she should leave a message or call back in an hour.  Just as she was about to hang up, Gabbi picked up the phone. 

“What?” Gabbi demanded.  “What is it?”

“Hi, it’s me.  Moira.  You said to call you back after five.”  Moira hoped Gabbi wasn’t in a bad mood.  Their relationship was difficult enough at the best of times.

Moira was surprised when Gabbi said, “Just a minute.  Hold on.  It’s not you.”

“Okay,” Moira waited about ten seconds and when Gabbi came back, she was laughing.  “I can’t believe I wasted my time on that loser!” 

“Man troubles?” Moira asked.

“You could say that,” replied Gabbi.  “Let me tell you what happened when I came in the door this evening.”

Gabbi explained that she had come home after a long day at work to discover her boyfriend getting cozy with another woman.  She had been letting Darryl stay on the couch while he looked for a new apartment.  Today, she told him to get out of her apartment and her life.  When he just stared at her, she walked past him and started throwing his clothes out the second story window. 

When Darryl said she’d be sorry to see him go, Gabbi responded by saying, “I won’t miss you or that permanent dent in my sofa.”   She heard the front door slam and glanced out the window.  She smiled as she watched him grab his clothes and throw them into his car.  Gabbi admitted it was the first time she’d done anything like that, but she’d had enough of his freeloading.  The last thing she saw was his car speeding away and a sock flying out the back window.

It felt good to laugh, thought Moira.  And even better to laugh with her cousin.  They had not done that in a long time.

“Today is Sunday.  I can be there on Wednesday as that’s the day we’re supposed to meet with the attorney,” she told Gabbi.  “I have to finish up a few things at work, and then I can use my vacation time.  I have two weeks saved up.”

“Don’t you still work for Mommy and Daddy?” Gabbi said in that voice Moira remembered all too well.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, “but work is the keyword in that sentence.  As I said, I can fly over on Wednesday.  Do you want to pick me up around ten in the morning, or should I catch a flight to Anacortes?”

“I’ll pick you up,” replied Gabbi.  “It will give us time to talk on the way.  I have some ideas.”

Oh no, thought Moira.  Gabbi’s ideas had gotten them both into trouble in the past.  “Okay, I’ll see you then.  But it might be best not to spend the money until we actually see how much the house is worth.” 

“Very funny,” Gabbi replied.  As she hung up the phone, she wondered what Moira would say when she found out that selling was the last thing she planned to do.

Read another chapter next Wednesday!