Free Heartwishes by Jude Deveraux Page B

him, it’ll be broken.”
    Gemma raised her eyebrows. “What an extraordinary town this seems to be,” she murmured as she went into the dining room.
    Mr. Frazier was sitting at the head of the table, reading a newspaper. “ ’Bout time,” he said without looking up. “I’m starving.”
    “Sorry but it’s just me,” Gemma said as she sat down beside him. “No food. But Rachel was frying a piece of ham the size of a small pond.”
    Mr. Frazier put down his newspaper and grinned at her. “That sounds right. After last night I need sustenance. Did Rachel fill you in on all the gossip?”
    “I take it Isla won’t be invited back.”
    Mr. Frazier chuckled. “My wife believes that our sons are being seduced by every woman they speak to. Although I must say that Lanny is the only one who consistently says yes. If he ever—”
    Gemma knew what he was going to say and cut him off. “I spend most of my days with very healthy young men. I can handle myself.”
    “Good!” he said, then looked up to see Rachel entering with a tray full of food. “I lost ten pounds waiting for you.”
    “You could stand to lose twenty,” Rachel said, unperturbed. “Where’s Mrs. F?”
    “On the phone. She has half a dozen friends to call to tell about the job and Gemma and the latest of what some girl did to Lanny.”
    Rachel shook her head. “Nothing ever changes. You want raspberry or peach jam? No. Wait. You want both.”
    “Why not? We have Gemma’s arrival to celebrate.”
    “Any excuse,” Rachel said as she went back to the kitchen.
    As soon as they were alone, Gemma and Mr. Frazier began filling their plates.
    “What kind of car do you want?” Mr. Frazier asked.
    “A Duesenberg,” she said quickly.
    “That’s a doozy of an idea.” His eyes were laughing as he let her know he knew the origin of the word.
    “Gemma,” Mrs. Frazier said as she entered the room and sat down at the opposite end of the table. Leaves had been removed so it was shorter than it had been last night. “I warn you not to make car jokes in this family or they’ll never stop, and you’ll not be able to come up with a reference that will stump them.”
    “That’s a challenge to a historian.” She looked at Mr. Frazier. “What about Duryea?”
    “Duryea Motor Wagon Company,” Mr. Frazier said. “Founded by Charles and Frank Duryea. They built the ‘Ladies Phaeton’ in 1893, and won the Chicago Times-Herald race two years later. But, alas, the brothers fought. Bad ending.”
    “I can see that I’ll lose this one,” Gemma said.
    “Did you know that Shamus Frazier, the one who came here from Scotland about 1770, made the wagons for George Washington’s troops at Valley Forge?”
    Gemma’s eyes opened so wide they were circles. “Really?”
    “It’s been passed down in my family that the man was passionate about wagons. Today we’d probably say that he had an obsessive-compulsive disorder and send him to therapy. But back then he just built the best wagons anybody had ever seen.”
    “Good enough to help win a war against a big enemy,” Gemma said. “A hero.”
    Mr. Frazier looked at her with almost love in his eyes.
    “For heaven’s sake, Grinny,” Mrs. Frazier said, “let the girl eat. You two have years to talk about history.” Her words sounded displeased but her eyes glistened with happiness. “Right now we need to discuss practical matters. Gemma has to move to Edilean, so we have to figure out how to get her things here.”
    “I could lend you a pickup truck and you could drive there and back,” Mr. Frazier said. “But I guess it depends on how much stuff you need to bring back.”
    “I thought I’d fly out tomorrow morning,” Gemma said, “and rent a car to drive back. I don’t have much to bring here.”
    “Not even books?”
    They looked up to see Colin standing in the doorway. He smiled at Gemma as he took a seat across from her and helped himself to scrambled eggs.
    “I do have a few books,”