“Yes, well, you can offer him some of the golden rod and make some tea, if you like, Corrine,” Hazel said.

My great-aunt was simply staring at him.

“I know you,” she finally said. “Neal Foxworth.”

“Oh no, ma’am. That was my father. I’m Garland Foxworth.”

“Foxworth’s Foxworth,” Great-aunt Nettie replied. She was actually scowling.

“Oh, it’s time for bed, Nettie,” Hazel insisted. She turned her toward the stairway.

“I know him,” Great-aunt Nettie told her as they started up the stairs. “That’s Neal Foxworth.”

“You haven’t said a word,” Garland said, smiling at me as soon as they were gone.

“Well, come on in, and we’ll see what you get out of me then,” I said.

His smile nearly exploded off his face. “A better invitation I never had,” he said, entering.

I closed the door and nodded toward the living room.

“It’s not quite the house it was,” I said. I was actually embarrassed by it.

“With you here, I’m sure it’s more than it ever was,” he said.

It was as if his smile and his words were the magic I had been dreaming really existed. I was so stirred that I could have been stark naked and not a bit more excited.

But of course, I’d have to wait to find out if that would be true or not.

And there wasn’t a teaspoon’s worth of doubt that I soon would.

Chapter 5

“Don’t fuss over any tea and cake,” Garland said immediately after we had entered the living room. Without waiting for me to sit first, he dropped to the sofa, leaned back with his arms across the top of it, and looked up at me. “I ate more than any man should today. Wined and dined, as they say. Everyone wants some of my money, including, of course, your father’s bank.”

“Well, I don’t,” I said sharply, and sat across from him. “I don’t worship money.”

“That’s because your family has it,” he said. “Although you might become converted for other reasons.”

He smiled, but I wasn’t sure I liked it. Sometimes when a man smiles at you, you can tell that he merely thinks you’re cute or adorable, some sort of compliment that belongs tagged onto a little girl, not a woman. A woman is attractive, beautiful, pretty. That’s the smile I wanted, more of a look of wonder and, most important, desire.

The look on my face changed his expression instantly. “No offense. Actually, you are surprising. I’m impressed,” he said.

“Why?” I asked sharply.

“It’s very nice to see a young woman who cares enough to visit old relatives and not simply put them off on some shelf to be forgotten.” He squinted. “Or am I seeing something that is not?”

Did he want me to come right out and say I came here mainly to see him?