He shook his head. “You’re wrong. I didn’t show up here for any reason other than to explore my heritage. I wanted to see Savannah, to walk in the footsteps of my grandparents. This is where they fell in love. Where my story began.”
“You’re either delusional or a brilliant liar. You have absolutely no proof that you’re kin to Miss Hattie. Because if you did—”
“I do have proof, Hope.” He dug into his pocket and handed her an envelope. “And if you ladies want to know about my claim to Savannah House, we can talk it over during a mediation meeting.”
Hope’s lips trembled and she reached for the envelope with shaking fingers. She ripped the envelope with jerky hands and pulled out the letter. She began to read out loud. “You are hereby invited to a mediation meeting at the offices of Somers and Somers, Esquires. Objective of the meeting is to settle matters pertaining to the will of Miss Hattie Alexander and the claim on the estate by Grayson Holloway.”
When she finished reading the letter, she looked up at him. Her eyes were lifeless. It seemed as if all the fire had left her. Her shoulders slumped as if they’d caved in from the weight of the world upon them.
“I’m trying to be fair,” he said, hoping to reassure her. He hated being the bad guy in this scenario.
“Fair?” The word came out sounding like a frog croaking. Tears pooled in her eyes. “How is any of this fair? We’ve worked our behinds off trying to renovate Savannah House. I have a baby to clothe and feed as a single mother. We’ve been mourning Miss Hattie’s death for almost a year. Did you? We sacrificed everything to get this place up and running again. You didn’t. I’ve taken hours and hours being away from my daughter to realize this dream. So please, Mr. Holloway, don’t you dare tell me anything about fairness.” Her eyes flashed like embers from a wildfire. “Now, if you don’t
mind, could you please leave the premises.” Her voice was shaky, yet as frosty as a winter’s night. With one last glare in his direction, Hope turned her back on him and walked over toward the garden. She began vigorously tending to it, reaching down into a bucket for her gardening tools.
Feeling more stung than he might ever have believed possible, Grayson took one last look at Hope before retreating. Hope’s expression had betrayed her state of mind. She was shattered. Because of his actions. His gut twisted painfully. He didn’t like feeling responsible for someone else’s pain. Truthfully, it was the reason Grayson had always been the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. Emotions tended to ruin perfectly amazing situations. There was something inside of him that couldn’t handle it.
As he walked off the property and towards his own rental house down the beach, he tried to shrug off the feelings of responsibility by reminding himself he didn’t even know Hope. She was a stranger. And he had his rights. It wasn’t wrong to want to hold tightly to his family legacy. The same legacy that had been stolen from him the moment his grandmother, Miss Hattie Alexander, abandoned his father as a newborn. Everything after that point, including his own painful childhood, had been the result of that one tragic decision. Establishing his claim to Savannah House might seem like a cruel move on his part, but it was step toward healing his family’s painful past—a step he knew he needed to take if he ever wanted to feel whole.
“Don’t let life get you down. Remember…it’s always darkest before the dawn. And then the sun rises.” Hattie Alexander
Chapter Three
Hope sat back on her heels and heaved a tremendous sigh. She’d been digging up weeds like a mad woman. It had felt a little bit therapeutic to get all of her emotions out in doing so. Grayson Holloway was a major pain! She didn’t understand him one little bit. A man like Holloway didn’t comprehend at all that his actions served as a domino effect.
She pressed her eyes closed and began to pray. Lord, please don’t let me go down this road. I hate feeling this way toward another human being. I haven’t felt this frustrated or angry in a long time and I don’t want this feeling to linger. I don’t want Ella to pick up on it or see me in an unflattering light. I have to be strong as her sole parent. And righteous. And true. For so long I’ve been angry at Ross and filled with such bitterness that he tricked me—betrayed me in the worst way a man can trifle with a woman. Heal me.
Let me cast away this heavy burden so I can be the best mother in the world to Ella.
Hot tears squeezed through her eyelashes and landed on her cheeks. She hardly ever cried at home. She’d been holding it all in for such a long time. Something about coming face-to-face again with Holloway had caused all these bitter feelings to come surging up inside her. For the next two hours Hope worked out her feelings in the garden. When she was done she was hot, sweaty, hungry and exhausted. A quick glance at her cell phone told her it was lunch time. She needed to head over to the guest cottage and take a quick shower and check in on Ella. Her babysitter, Clara, was watching her today. By the time Hope made her way to the cottage she felt a sense of peace settle over her. The letter Grayson had given her was clenched in her hand. She made a mental note to make copies of the letter as soon as she made her way back to Savannah House. She would give a copy to Callie, Olivia, Morgan, Fancy and Charlotte. Somehow they would figure out what to do and how to proceed. No matter what they decided, it would be done together.
The moment she reached her front doorstep, Hope noticed an object sitting on her front step. As she moved closer, Hope realized it was a basket of flowers. She let out a sigh at the sight of the beautiful arrangement adorning her doorstep. Roses. Baby’s breath. Lilies. She picked the basket up by the handle and let herself in to the house, the sound of Ella’s giggles making her heart swell to an abnormally large size. She reached for a bottle of hand sanitizer on the foyer table, knowing she would want to pick her daughter up as soon as she laid eyes on her.
Hope poked her head in the living room. Ella was sitting on a blanket on the floor, playing peek a boo with Clara. Clara—a woman in her mid-fifties who had already raised three children of her own—was a Godsend. She was loving and dedicated and her presence in their lives allowed Hope to go to work every day with no worries about her daughter’s care. Hope was able to afford Clara due to the success of Savannah House, along with the fact that she lived in the guest house free of charge.
“Hello there,” Hope said from the doorway, announcing her presence.
Ella clapped her hands together and began to crawl at a rapid speed toward her. Ella wasn’t walking quite yet on her own, but she was almost there.
“Hi, Hope. We were just having some play time. What a gorgeous assortment of flowers. Are they yours?” Clara asked with an infectious grin.
Hope shrugged. “I think so. They were sitting out front when I walked up.” Hope looked down at the basket, noticing for the first time the small envelope sticking up from the side. She placed the basket down on the side table, then slit open the envelope. A beautiful beach scene greeted her along with the words “Sorry to upset you. Let’s be friends. Grayson.”
She tucked the card back into the basket as butterflies danced in her stomach. Grayson was proving to be an enigma. And she couldn’t deny the feelings tugging at her. It had been a very long time since a man had treated her to the beauty of a floral arrangement. Seeing his bold, masculine handwriting had made her heart beat a little bit faster.
“An admirer?” Clara asked, her voice full of curiosity.
“Hardly. Someone who knows he rubbed me the wrong way trying to get into my good graces,” Hope explained. Ella tugged at the hem of her pants, letting her know in no uncertain terms she wanted Mama’s attention. Hope bent down and scooped her up, twirling her around in a gentle manner. Ella’s giggles were enchanting. Hope felt fortunate she could see her daughter at lunch time on occasion. It always jazzed up her day.
“Sounds like he cares about your opinion,” Clara noted, getting up carefully from her seated position on the floor. “Don’t discount it. God works in mysterious ways.”
Hope wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to discuss Grayson. The flowers were gorgeous, but she had no use for someone who was litigious and sneaky. If God had sent him in her direction, Hope knew her Lord and Savior must have a great sense of humor.
“Clara, I’m dirty from the garden. I’m going to go take a quick shower before lunch.”
Clara took Ella from her arms and waved her off. “Go ahead and shower. I have some tortellini soup on the stove and some fresh bread in the oven.”
“So that’s what smells so good in here. You’re the best, Clara,” Hope said as she made her way down the hall toward her bedroom.