True Colors

“Here.” He handed her the papers, then produced in short order her computer and printer, the fax machine, and boxes of paper. Meredith had him put them in the library, which she then locked.

“Now, I’ve no excuse not to work.” She laughed, having only just realized how free she’d been until that dreaded equipment arrived. “How’s Blake?” she asked.

“Fine. I left him with Perlie just for the morning. I’ll be back before he misses me. I brought you this, too.” He handed her a case of fresh orange juice. “You’ll need plenty of vitamin C to help you build back up.”

She laughed. “Well, I guess this qualifies as necessary equipment.”

“Essential, if you’re going to live in Billings for a while.” He sipped coffee while she signed documents. “Heard from Harden?”

“Not today. He and his mother had dinner at the restaurant last night.”

“How’s it going?” he asked.

She glanced at him ruefully. “It’s painful. But I expect the end result will be worth it.”

His green eyes narrowed as they scanned her face. “Don’t get caught again. Mr. Tennison wouldn’t like having you hurt twice.”

She smiled at him, remembering how Henry had cosseted her. Mr. Smith did, too. It was almost like having Henry back again when Mr. Smith was around. “You’re good to me, Mr. Smith,” she said.

He looked uncomfortable and averted his eyes. “No trouble to be good to someone like you. Sign those papers, please, so I can get out of here. Your brother-in-law was impatient to get the merger finished.”

“So I see.” She took her time reading the documents, suspicious at Don’s eagerness. But the papers were just routine, no surprises. She didn’t understand why it was so urgent. Then it occurred to her that Don was literally taking the merger out of her hands, and it all made sense. He was showing her up.

“You look worried,” Mr. Smith remarked.

She shrugged as she handed the papers back. “I never credited Don with one-upmanship.”

“Competition runs in the Tennison clan.”

“Yes. Funny that I didn’t realize it before, isn’t it?”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” he replied noncommittally. “Don’t sweat it. Maybe the boss is just trying to give you a hand. God knows you could use one sometimes. You push yourself too hard.”

“Do I?” she mused.

“Too many long hours, too much time on the run. You’re several pounds light.”

She grinned. “Send me down to the gym and build me up, then.”

“Wish I could. Can’t keep you still long enough.” He went to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Watch your back. It gets dangerous up in the high altitudes.”

“I have noticed that,” she agreed.

Mr. Smith opened the door and walked out onto the porch, idly noting a car that hesitated as it passed the house. Nosy neighbors, he thought mockingly, motioning to the cabdriver.

“I’ll phone you tonight,” she said. “Tell Blake I love him.”

“He knows that.”

“It never hurts to tell him, all the same.”

He grinned and got into the cab. “Okay.”

Meredith watched the cab drive away. Mr. Smith was like family. When he was gone, she was alone again. Just like old times, she thought as she turned back into the house.

The knock on the door ten minutes later startled her. Perhaps Mr. Smith had forgotten something, she thought as she went to answer it.

Meredith opened the door to an unexpected visitor. Myrna Harden stood rigidly on her doorstep, dressed in black, her thin, pinched face hard with contempt and repugnance.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Meredith said with icy calm. “Come in.”

Myrna walked into the house, looking around with disdain. She took the best of the living room chairs and crossed her elegant legs, her purse clutched tightly on her lap.

“I’ll come straight to the point,” she said primly, producing a check. She held it out to Meredith. “That should make it worth your while to leave Billings for good.”

Meredith didn’t take it. She smiled vacantly. “Would you like coffee?”

“Thank you, no,” Myrna said stiffly. She waved the check. “It’s for ten thousand dollars,” she announced. “Take it and go away.”

Meredith eased down onto the sofa and crossed her jean-clad legs comfortably. “I went away, once.”

“Why didn’t you stay?” Myrna’s face stiffened even more. “What do you want? My son doesn’t care about you! He never did, or he’d have gone after you, surely you must realize that?” she demanded in an almost frantic high-pitched tone.

Yes, of course Meredith realized it, and almost winced at the old pain. “My great-aunt died,” she said with dignity.

Myrna’s inherent good manners flinched at the reminder. “I did know that. I’m sorry. But you must have been offered something for the house….”

“I don’t want to sell the house. It has pleasant memories for me. I don’t want to leave Billings just yet, either,” she added quietly, and some of the steely makeup Henry had taught her was coming into play. She looked straight into Myrna’s eyes, her posture open and threatening, her face giving away no weaknesses. “It will take more than ten thousand to get me out of Billings. It will take more than you’ve got.”

Myrna gasped. “You arrogant backwoods brat!”

“No name calling, if you please,” Meredith said easily. She studied the lined face without haste. “You haven’t worn well, have you? I’m not surprised. The guilt must have been terrible at times.”

Myrna actually paled. She clenched her purse tightly. “I don’t feel guilt.”

“You lied to your son, falsely accused me, cost me my home at a time when I desperately needed it…you don’t feel guilt for any of that?”

“You were a child, playing games,” Myrna rasped.

“I was a woman, deeply in love and pregnant with your grandchild,” Meredith said, the words delivered with the precision of a merciless scalpel. “You lied,” she accused, her eyes contemptuous.

“I had to,” Myrna cried. “I couldn’t let my son marry someone like you!”

“You never told Cy the truth, did you?” Meredith persisted.

Myrna swallowed. “I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars.”

“Tell him the truth.”