handsome. Maybe she was still dreaming? She opened the door an inch or two and stepped into the crack in case he was a hot psycho. Well, a professional psycho if the gray suit and tie were any indication. “Yes?”
“Ms. Bylin?”
Suzy shook her head and felt the curls hit the sides of her face. Great. She must look a fright. She reached up a hand to calm the frenzied chaos atop her head. Maybe she should have brushed her hair before answering the door, especially if she was going to be confronted by such attractive strangers. And yet, there was something familiar about his eyes. “Did you go to Lake Mildred High? Football team, right?”
“Why? Were you a cheerleader?”
She had been, but that was maybe five years after he had graduated. “Are you looking for my mom?”
He frowned and glanced down at his notebook. “No, she’s dead.” He looked up and his cheeks colored. “I mean, I attended her funeral. I saw you there...I mean, you must be her daughter. I’m sorry for your loss.”
With effort, Suzy gave him a smile. She longed to assure him it was okay. But losing her mom wasn’t okay. Never would be. It had been six months, and she still woke up expecting her mom to be there. Still reached for her phone when on break at work to call and check on her. A half year had passed, but the hole in her chest hadn’t healed. “Is there something I can help you with?”
He seemed to take a moment, as if summoning his strength. The steel in his spine straightened him several inches. “I’m sure you’re aware of the problems your mom had with the town.”
Um, no. This was the first she’d heard. But then Mama had liked to keep her secrets even after Suzy had moved in to care for her in the last year. She frowned. “Problems such as...”
“Such as the neighbors’ complaints about all the clutter and trash on her property.” He marked something off on his notebook. “Or the notices from the town that she needed to get the yard cleaned up.” Another check. “And if she couldn’t get it cleaned up, the town would clean it for her at her expense or evict her.”
Suzy paled at each accusation. Okay. So her mom hadn’t been Mrs. Clean. Or Mrs. Organized. But to threaten to take her home? Things couldn’t be that bad.
Could they?
She grimaced and tried to recall his name. Rivers? Meadow? “Listen, Mr.—”
“Stone. Will Stone.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She clutched her hands into fists at her sides. “My mom was sick for the last few years. She couldn’t get out of bed for most of those, much less go outside and clean up her yard. And she never told me about any notices.”
“My file says she received six.”
Six? Crud. What had you been thinking, Mama? She glanced behind her and knew if Mr. Stone could see inside the living room and to the rest of the house, he’d have more of a problem than with the backyard. “Okay. Six notices. Well, I’m in charge now. And it will get taken care of.”
“Miss Bylin, I knew of your mom’s illness, so I didn’t pursue any legal action. But time, just like my patience, has grown thin.” He removed a yellow letter from his pocket. “You have two weeks. Or the town will bring its own crew to clear everything out. And we don’t come cheap.”
She nodded and accepted the letter. Opened it. Read it. Then clutched it in her hand, wrinkling the page. “Understood.” She waited for him to leave, but he continued to stare down at her with those ice blue eyes of his. She glanced at her painted hot pink toenails. “Was there something else?”
“Are those scarecrows on your pants?”
Suzy grinned and pulled on the leg of the cotton scrubs she’d worn to work last night. “Aren’t they a hoot? My seniors love them.”
“I’m sure they do.” He almost smiled, and it gave Suzy a glimpse of how more good looking he could be. The frown quickly returned, shattering her hopes. “I’m going to assess the backyard before I leave.”
“Sure thing. Good night.”
He looked at her as if she’d sprung a second head. “It’s daytime. Are you always this flighty?”
She shut the door behind her and locked the bottom lock. Flighty? Okay, so maybe her life was upside down with working nights, but she was capable. Competent. And more than able to tidy up a backyard.
She yawned as she dropped the letter next to her car keys on the coffee table and returned to the couch to settle under the blankets. She’d deal with the notice later. But first, sleep.
Maybe even a dream about hot strangers showing up on her doorstep.
* * *
WILL FROWNED AT the closed door. Miss Bylin certainly resembled her mother in personality, but not looks. While Mrs. Bylin had been large and imposing, her daughter was tiny. Petite. Reddish blonde curls framing her face. And brown eyes that held laughter.
But he had a feeling that the sprite could sweet-talk him into giving her more time, exactly like her mother had on numerous occasions.
He walked around the house to the backyard and unlatched the wooden gate and went through. Nothing had changed, except he counted more trash bags that hadn’t made it roadside for collection. Instead they leaned against the closest wall of the garage. He couldn’t understand why such a simple thing was so hard to do. It wasn’t difficult to remember trash day if you had a system. A way of remembering. He made a note in his book and moved on.
The abandoned car still took up space toward the back. The tires had long ago gone flat, and Will doubted that the engine would start. Two clothes line poles listed to the side. A rusted swing set missing the swings. A slide that a younger Miss Bylin may have played on, but now laid on its side, abandoned.
Elbow grease and some muscles. That’s what Miss Bylin needed. That and a plan to conquer the yard methodically. Inch by inch. And he could scratch this eyesore off his to-do list.
Finally.
Maybe then he could prove to the town council they needed him. And his job would be off their chopping block.
He made some more notes in his book. Took a few pictures on his cell phone. Until it started ringing.”Will Stone.”
“Will, it’s Toby at the bank.”
Why would his mom’s boss be phoning him? “Is my mom okay?”
“That’s why I’m calling. She passed out and fell. We can’t wake her.” He paused on the other end. “I’ve called an ambulance, and they’re on their way. But you might want to get here too.”
Oh, Ma. What is going on? “I’m on my way.”
Any other business could wait. This was his mom.
* * *
WILL QUICKLY PARKED his pickup truck, turned off the engine and removed his keys. Got out and slammed the door shut.
Winced at the ambulance with its lights flashing, waiting near the entrance.
He ran across the lot to the red brick building and pushed open the front door. Inside the lobby, the branch manager, Toby, waited for him. “She’s back here in the break room.”
Will followed him as the manager ushered him to where he found his mom sitting in a chair and hooked up to an oxygen tank. She looked up at him and removed the mask.
“I’m fine. Tell them.”
He noted her pale appearance. The fine sheen of moisture at her hairline. The pain as well as the panic in her eyes. He knelt down beside her and put his hand on her knee. “What happened?”
His mom shrugged and frowned as the paramedic replaced the mask on her face. Will turned to the paramedic for answers. “Mrs. Stone passed out and was unresponsive when we arrived. Her pulse