Only I didn’t ask to be born, remember?”
He spread a hand and invited her to enter the office ahead of him. “This is a situation none of us asked for. We’re all in the same boat. And there’s a lot at stake here, so we’re going to have to make the best of it.”
“You propose doing that how?”
“Well, you could go back to Maui and leave the resolution in our hands.”
“Not on your life! Is it necessary for me to hire a separate lawyer?”
“God, no. In my experience, the more lawyers involved, the muddier a situation gets, to say nothing of tripling costs.”
“So there you have it. I suspect you have a plan up your sleeve.”
“Not up my sleeve, exactly. Would you be willing to sign an agreement to defer finalizing your portion of the property until Casey and I bring in this year’s crop? Or at least until we settle the outstanding insurance claims?”
“I don’t think I’m willing to sign anything. At least not tonight.”
“Mind telling me why not?”
“When it comes down to it, Jackson, I know cane as well as you and your sister do. We all have a vested interest in bringing your crop in at a high yield.”
“You say that now in the heat of the moment. Tomorrow you might feel differently.” Looking unhappy, he returned to the desk where Shel Prescott still sat, having obviously refreshed his drink. Noelani returned to her seat beside Aunt Esme, who still stroked a snoring Toodles.
Jackson spoke up. “In spite of our denials, accusations and disbelief, I believe we can agree this problem isn’t going away. I propose we sleep on it and meet again at breakfast, to see if anyone’s been struck by some great revelation during the night. Shel’s promised he’ll recheck the status of our insurance claims.”
Casey twisted her ponytail and lifted it off her neck. Sighing deeply, she deferred to her brother with a shrug.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Nick said. “Everyone’s pretty emotional tonight.”
Dropping her hair, Casey got to her feet. “It’ll have to be early, Jackson. If saving our butts depends on bringing in the cane, that’s all the more reason for me to be out in the fields rather than stuck in some meeting.”
“Betty’s due at six. Is six-thirty okay with you, Noelani?”
“Sure. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
“Aunt Esme. You’re remarkably quiet this evening.”
“Bellefontaine has survived many ups and downs. It passed to my brother during one of its worst slumps. He built it into the voice of sugar in Louisiana—indeed, in the whole South. You’re all of his blood. If the three of you pull together, I have no doubt we’ll get through this.” She stood, managing to look regal even after a long day. Carrying the yawning schnauzer, she marched to the door. “Toodles and I will skip breakfast at that uncivilized hour. We’ll see everyone for cocktails before supper.”
Casey and Nick followed Esme out after all good-nights were said.
Jackson remained by the desk. It was clear to Noelani that he wanted some time alone with the lawyer.
“I napped before dinner, so I’m wide awake. The rain’s stopped. Is it all right if I change clothes and go for a walk?”
“Fine with me. There are night-lights in the upper and lower halls. Oh, and carriage lamps on the fence posts. The fence marks the perimeter of Bellefontaine.”
“Is there danger of falling in an abandoned well if I hike out to the cane? I love hearing the wind rustling through the stalks at night. It relaxes me.”
“Casey, too. Hmm. I guess you have that in common. But to answer your question—no wells. Feel free to wander. Except the rows aren’t lit.”
“I won’t go into the cane. I doubt your sister would approve of me touching her precious stalks.” She gathered her papers and left the two men.
“Noelani,” Jackson called before she disappeared. “Casey idolized Duke. He let her down. It’s him she’s furious with. Not you.”
“My mother gave him up, you know. She only spoke to me about him once. She swore she never had any idea he was married when she first got involved with him, and when she found out, she sent him away. To the best of my knowledge, she never asked him for anything. No money. No contact. Nothing. But she never stopped loving him. Which made no sense to me, and I’m pretty furious at him, too. I’ll see you at six-thirty tomorrow.”
Noelani returned to her room, where she tugged on jeans, a tank top and a lightweight white cotton sweater. Pinning her hair into a loose bun, she tiptoed softly down the hall so as not to wake Tanya, Megan or Aunt Esme. In the aftermath of the squall, the night air was heavy. Too muggy for jeans, but Noelani was no stranger to the biting bugs that came out at night around cane.
Bellefontaine in all its glory made her catch her breath, not for the first time. She was used to living in a two-bedroom, single-story duplex. The bedrooms had no glass at the windows, but screens to let in cool ocean breezes.
The minute she stepped outside, Noelani dragged in a huge lungful of the heavy, humid air.
She wandered around front, where she paused and listened to the varied tunes played by the fountains. Closing her eyes, she let the day’s tensions slowly seep away.
Noelani dug in her pocket and found a stray penny, then made a wish, tossing the coin at the top tier near a carved pineapple decorating the largest fountain.
Something scraped off to her right. Crouching instinctively, she whirled.
“Easy. Easy there.” A rich, lazy voice reproached her from the darkened porch of the nearby garçonnière. Adam Ross disconnected himself from the shadows and stepped into view. He wore jeans and a white T-shirt, and held a frosty beer.
“I’ve heard that people throw coins in fountains. I’ve never seen anyone actually do it. Is it more effective than wishing on the first night star?”
Noelani glanced upward. “I’d be out of luck tonight. There are no stars.”
Adam leaned a shoulder against the rough siding and took another drink. He gestured with the bottle. “It’s muggy as hell tonight. Want one of these?”
“Sure.” She sauntered toward him. “Is the weather keeping you up?”
“Nah. I’m a night owl. Always have been.” He bent, reached behind him, opened an ice chest and pulled out another cold bottle.
“Staying up alone, drinking the night away, seems a sure path to perdition,” she said lightly. She accepted the bottle after he wrenched off the top.
Adam toyed with the idea of suggesting she come inside and keep him company—then he wouldn’t be alone. He settled on a different tack. “Worried about my soul, sugar pie?”
“No. But I think you should be.” The man was certainly glib with his cutesy endearments. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when he called her sugar pie that made it feel less insulting than when he’d thrown “sweet thing” at her. Anyway, she let it pass.
“If it’ll ease your mind, two of these is my limit. Throughout the day I drink bottled water. How did your meeting go?”
She didn’t know how to answer without going into the whole convoluted story. And the Fontaines had enough troubles without her spreading tales of their financial woes. Lifting her beer, she sipped, then rolled the cold bottle across her cheek.
“That bad, huh? I saw Shelburne Prescott peel out of here right before you came out. Figured something happened.”
She shrugged. “I went up to change. He stayed to have a word with Jackson.”
“Too