Free A Hearth in Candlewood by Delia Parr Page A

death, as well as the inheritance. The only reason this has come to light is because one of the other of Spencer’s victims, if you will, hired a lawyer to investigate and try to track down the man, and here we are. The court has appointed a new lawyer to serve as executor, one Jonathan Meyer of Philadelphia, which is where the late Mr. Hughes had his primary residence. Here . . . let me find his letter for you.’’
    While Mr. Breckenwith sorted through the papers, Emma struggled for control, but she was unable to keep her heart from pounding hard against the wall of her chest. Without Hill House, she had no home, no purpose in her life. She had sold her General Store to come here, certain that this was where God wanted her to be, certain that the answer to the loneliness that filled her heart lay in doing His will and serving others at Hill House.
    She had lost her Jonas. One by one, each of her sons had married and moved away. First Warren. Then Benjamin. And finally Mark. When he had married four and a half years ago, she had felt so alone and so empty . . . and so anxious to find new meaning to her life. She had prayed for God to show her how to fill her life with new meaning.
    When Mr. Spencer arrived in Candlewood and offered to sell Hill House to her, she was convinced this was the answer she had been praying to receive. Despite Mr. Breckenwith’s advice, she had pushed ahead, only to discover now that he had been right.
    ‘‘Here it is,’’ he said as he skimmed the letter again.
    Emma struggled to find her voice. ‘‘Is it possible to simply buy Hill House again? I . . . I could manage to do that if I sold off some of my land.’’ She was all too aware that she might have to rescind the sale of that parcel of land to Mother Garrett and actually sell it to someone else, although her mouth soured at the prospect of letting Mr. Langhorne acquire it.
    Her lawyer set the letter aside. ‘‘Apparently that’s not an option—at least not right now.’’
    A band of terror tightened around her chest, making it difficult for her to draw a breath. For modesty’s sake, she resisted loosening the collar on her bodice and took slow, measured breaths instead. She had never before encountered a problem she could not fix with either her wits or her fortune. Never.
    Losing Hill House affected more than just Emma. Mother Garrett would be forced to move out, and so would Reverend Glenn, not to mention Widow Leonard. To make matters worse— if that were possible—even if Emma did buy another home for all of them to share, everyone in town would know what had happened, destroying the reputation as a good businesswoman she had worked so hard to establish and maintain.
    Imagining someone else moving into Hill House made her tremble. She laced her fingers together, laid her hands on her lap, and kept her gaze downcast to avoid seeing the smug look on her lawyer’s face now that he had been proven right.
    ‘‘Widow Garrett?’’
    When she finally looked up at him, his gaze was gentle and understanding. ‘‘I know how much Hill House means to you. Let’s not give up hope. Not quite yet.’’
    She swallowed hard and blinked back tears. ‘‘Why not? You just said buying Hill House again wasn’t an option.’’
    ‘‘I believe I said not right now,’’ he countered. ‘‘Mr. Meyer indicated in his letter that the heir would like to see Hill House first before he decides whether or not he wants to sell it.’’
    Her heart skipped a beat and filled with hope. ‘‘He’s coming here? To Candlewood?’’
    ‘‘Yes, but I’m not certain when that will be. Meyer didn’t offer any explanation or any specific time to expect the heir. Perhaps he’s traveling or abroad. In any event, Meyer assured me you could stay at Hill House and continue to operate it until the heir arrives.’’
    She bolted forward in her seat and braced the palms of her hands on the top of her desk. Disbelief pounded through her veins.