Free Dear Sir, I'm Yours by Joely Sue Burkhart Page A

have?”
    “I figured you’d want to stay white on the walls, but some of the trim could use a punch.
    The black here on the eaves and trim is a little boring. Lots of houses used this hunter green way back when, but it’s a little fresher.”
    “Let’s talk to Miss Belle, but she’ll likely want to stay white and black.” Seemed to be a family theme going here. “What about the front porch columns?”
    Joe picked up a couple of pints and they walked around to the front of the house. “The color’s faded so bad I couldn’t tell what it used to be. Something soft, like a muted pastel.”
    Gingerly, he set the paint cans down on the ground, keeping an eye on them. “I thought maybe a pale lilac would be nice.”
    One of the paint cans fell over and rolled down the lawn toward the driveway. Rae stared at it, her mouth falling open in shock. She glanced at Joe to see his reaction, and his face was pale and sweaty.
    His voice shook. “Or gray…”

    The can shook, rattling, and the lid bulged like it was going to explode. They both took a wary step back.
    “Or this really soft pale pink,” he said hurriedly. “It’s called Rosebud Blush.”
    The other can stopped shaking.
    Joe licked his lips. “I think the house wants pink. I’m not imagining this, right? You saw it?”
    Rae nodded, her eyes wide. She remembered the weird swinging chandelier in the library when she’d first interviewed. The chills she kept getting. The way Miss Belle knew who was at the door last night before Bill Franklin had ever said a word. “It’s not the house. It’s a…
    ghost.”
    Colonel Healy’s ghost truly did haunt Beulah Land.
    Her cell phone rang again. Still shaken, she didn’t look at the number but flipped it open.
    “I don’t have time for another pop quiz.”
    “Rae?” Her mother’s voice was shaky.
    Immediately, her heart clenched with worry. “Is Daddy okay?”
    “He’s fine.”
    “What’s wrong, Mom?”
    “Richard stopped by here today asking questions.”
    Dread roiled in the pit of her stomach. “What’d he want?”
    “He wanted to know where you were. I told him I didn’t know, but you’d gotten a new job. Did I say too much?”
    “No, that’s fine. Listen, if he stops by again, call me immediately. I’m not going to let him bother you and Daddy. I’ll get a restraining order if I have to.”
    “I’m not worried about us, Rae, but you. I always thought he’d give you more problems than he did with the divorce.”
    “Yeah, me too.” As ugly as their last fight had been, she’d been surprised when he’d slunk off without a word after the divorce. Or had he? The thought made her stomach heave.
    “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
    “Take care of yourself, Rae.”

Chapter Seven
    Miss Belle flopped into a wing-backed chair, surrounded by packages. “What a simply wonderful day!”
    Coming in from the kitchen with a tray, Rae had to smile. Did they even have that many pink outfits in all of Branson? “Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Belle?”
    “Oh, you sweet dear. Thank you.”
    She poured, trying to decide the best way to broach the whole ghost situation. She kept trying to convince herself she’d been mistaken, but the memory of that poor man covered in emerald green paint…
    “You simply must come with me next time, Rae Lynn. I’ve missed shopping for my girls all these years.”
    Shopping for her girls? Eyes narrowed, Rae shot another glance at the bags.
    “I’m usually very good at judging sizes, but I’m afraid I might be slightly out of practice.”
    “You didn’t.”
    “I did,” the old lady replied smugly. “Most of these are yours.”
    “But—” Rae spluttered. “I can’t accept a bunch of clothes!”
    “Of course you can. I specifically included a clothing allowance in your contract. What fun is a female property manager if I can’t shop for you? Now why don’t you try on a few things and model them for me. I want to help you pick out your outfit for