Читать книгу A Lady For Lincoln Cade - Bj James - Страница 12

Cade’s giggle drew Linsey to the kitchen window. A familiar sound since Lincoln had walked into his life weeks before.

Smiling in spite of nagging worries, she stood on tiptoe, leaning over the sink to get a better view beyond the sparkling window. For her effort, she was bemused as always by the powerful presence of the quintessential male. But not just any man or just one. Though she was reminded constantly that Lincoln’s unfailing presence was disturbing enough, life on the Stuart farm was not meant to be even that simple.

Instead, the power was fourfold and daunting, for her backyard was filled with Cades—with Lincoln and his brothers. Men who had been only familiar names in the years she and Lucky and Lincoln had been close. Now all four Cades were here, as they had been for days, each filling his own space with his own particular charisma. Each contributing some area of skill and expertise.

Adams, the oldest of the four, in response to Lincoln’s call for help, had drawn his crews from an antebellum town house he was restoring on the outskirts of Belle Terre. Under his direction a number of skilled artisans—carpenters, plumbers, electricians, and painters—had made quick work of what they did best. Restoring yet another pair of historic derelicts fallen victim to time and circumstance.

Of the house and barn, the house had been the first order of business. Anything broken, loose, rotted or just plain cranky had been repaired, replaced or soothed. The ancient exterior gleamed with a fresh layer of paint and the tin roof with its first. Stylish, historically correct shutters replaced the sagging boards that had served originally. Cobblestone walks and borders, and fences to keep deer from flower and vegetable gardens had been resurrected.

But it was the interior that astonished Linsey. With a small knowledge of furnishings gleaned from her travels in her lonely, footloose days, she had recognized that there had been good pieces left to time and chance in the old house. Abandoned yet protected, she believed strongly, by its proximity to Belle Reve and by fear of the wrath of the Cades. All of whom seemed to revere the farm for the woman who had lived there.

Once Frannie Stuart’s unsuspected treasures were refurbished by Adams’s skilled crews, she realized they were more than a reflection of Frannie’s taste, more than merely valuable. Many were antiques of the first quality. A part of Lucky’s heritage. His legacy to the child he’d loved and made his own.

Inspired by the discovery of marvelous family treasures, the artisans’ work had become equally more meticulous. As a fitting backdrop for this bounty, fresh coats of paint had been applied to every wall, countertops were replaced, and floors repaired and refurbished with such speed, it made her breathless remembering. There was more to do. But, wisely, Adams had suggested Linsey should make the more personal choices, then had left them to her.

Jackson, the fiery one, third in birth order and noted horse breeder, had seen to the land. Drafting Lincoln, along with his own people, he worked with fences enclosing more than a hundred acres of pasture and timber. Though appreciative, Linsey wondered what use she would make of those acres. Jackson offered the solution. By mutual agreement she would have an unexpected source of income from fees he would pay for grazing rights.

Jefferson, the youngest, whose quiet ways and gentle smile had set her more at ease than any of the Cades, had taken an old orchard and the landscaping as his project. Peach, apple, and pear trees were pruned. Pecan trees were squirrelproofed. A small vineyard became less like a jungle. Jefferson had even offered suggestions and help for plants for the house and gardens.

Miss Corey had been an absentee contributor to the cause. The housekeeper of Belle Reve, a woman Linsey knew only by reputation, dispatched her kitchen staff regularly with three hot meals each day. Morning, noon, and evening in a splendid, rainless period, Miss Corey’s fare was served on tables made of boards and sawhorses set beneath centuries-old live oak.