When Eliza arrived home after her shift at the general store, she was wet, chilled and irritated. Still, she made sure not to track on the beautiful hardwood floors she’d had refinished last summer. She swallowed a sob that tried to rise up in her throat.

Her gaze lingered on the front parlor, each piece of furniture and objet d’art precious to her. She moved to the antique rocker with its needlepoint seat. A lump filled her throat as she gazed at the pattern her grandmother, Verna, had stitched. Sometimes, when she sat in the fragile chair, Eliza swore she caught the sweet scent of roses, her grandmother’s signature fragrance.

This was her home. Hers. She would not let it fall into the hands of a stranger. Though she didn’t really know Kyle Kendrick, she almost felt sorry for him. He was as much a victim of her father’s machinations as she was. Even if his sister was coming, what did two people need with a house this big?

She shoved aside the thought that she was a single woman living in a house this big and squared her shoulders. Her grandmother had taught her that good posture was as important as a take-charge attitude. After hanging up her coat and stowing the umbrella, Eliza moved to the rolltop desk and took a seat.

Though she’d much prefer to take a bath in the claw-foot tub with scented candles burning and a glass of wine close by, she had work to do. Ready, Set, Wed was a wedding competition between Good Hope, Egg Harbor and Sturgeon Bay and was Eliza’s baby.

Last month when she’d announced to her parents on a Skype call that she’d been assigned the task of overseeing the Good Hope competition, her father had been impressed.

Wanting something to distract her, Eliza powered up her laptop and started making lists related to the competition. She relaxed as she dived fully into the task. After an hour, she rose and poured herself a glass of wine. When her stomach began to rumble, she realized she’d skipped lunch.

Perhaps she’d make up an antipasto plate, then enjoy a second glass of wine. Halfway down the hall, she heard the doorbell ring.

Eliza paused, a frown pulling at her brows. Kyle wouldn’t ring the bell. There would be no need now that he had a key.

Everyone else in Good Hope knew she didn’t like drop-ins. Even Lindsay called before stopping over.

Then it struck her. What if Beck had discovered some legal precedent critical to her case and wanted to tell her in person? He and Ami lived just down the block. With her heart in her throat, Eliza hurried down the hall.

Habit had her pushing back the lace curtain to get a quick look at her visitor.

Beck was a handsome man with hair the same chocolate brown as his eyes. His wife, Ami, had once been one of Eliza’s closest friends. After being estranged for more than a decade, she and Ami were once again friends, thanks to Lindsay’s intervention.

He settled into a chair opposite hers in the parlor and quickly got down to business. “You mentioned you had some papers for me?”

Eliza dropped her gaze to the briefcase sitting on the floor. Reaching inside, she pulled a printout of the message from her father as well as several other sheets.

“This is what he sent me.” Disappointment now mixed with the anger. “I realize this is a long shot, but in the letter to me from my grandmother, she clearly indicates that my father agrees the house will go to me upon his passing. I told him that we spoke.”

Beck studied the documents with a thoroughness that impressed her.

She wished he’d say something reassuring, but she didn’t press. Eliza kept her eyes focused on the top of his head as he flipped through the documents.

“I checked with the courthouse. Your name was never on the title.” Beck lifted his gaze.

“It must have been an oversight. My grandmother wanted me to have the house. She told my father on numerous occasions that it should go to me.” Horrified to feel tears push against the backs of her lids, Eliza quickly forced them down. No way was she letting Beckett Cross—or anyone else—see how much her dad’s actions had upset her.

“You’ve spoken with your father.” Beck leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp and assessing.

“Yes.” Eliza hated the tiny quiver that wove through the word.

Beck’s eyes unexpectedly softened. “Did he mention why he took this step?”

“He thinks I’m in a rut and decided to shake up my life.” Her laugh held a bitter edge. “He’s not taking what was meant to be mine without a fight.”

She saw no reason to relay all the details. No reason to tell Beck that her father thought she was “depressed” over Jeremy marrying Fin.

Personally, she believed her dad was simply using Jeremy’s upcoming nuptials as a reason to push her out of Good Hope.

Donald Shaw had never seen the appeal of life in this township on the Door County peninsula. Her brother felt the same way. While Ethan enjoyed coming back for visits, he’d started building a new life for himself in a community a short train ride from Chicago. The best of both worlds, her brother liked to say.

But her roots went deep, and Eliza had no intention of leaving. Eliza ignored the unease and managed a smile. “What’s our next step? I realize this will be more difficult to fight without actual legal papers, but surely my grandmother’s wishes mean something.”

When Beck didn’t immediately respond, the unease became a hard ball in the pit of her stomach.

“Unfortunately, the law doesn’t care about wishes or promises.” Beck shook his head. “The courts will say that if she wanted the home to go to you, she’d have put that in her will.”

“But the e-mail—”

“Is just an e-mail that stated her preference on that particular day.” Beck steepled his fingers, his brown eyes firmly fixed on her.

The silence scraped on her last nerve. It took all her inner control not to snap. “Where do we go from here?”

From the pity in Beck’s eyes, Eliza knew she didn’t want to hear any more. But she was a Shaw. Whatever it was, she could handle it.

“Unless you have something else to show me.” Beck expelled a long breath. “This house now belongs to Kyle Kendrick.”

* * *

That night, Eliza stayed in her suite of rooms. She wasn’t in the mood to see Kyle, much less speak with him.

The next morning, she left for Hill House. As the executive director of the Women’s Events League—commonly referred to as the Cherries—she maintained an office in the historic house.

“Eliza.”

She turned to see Lindsay sprinting down the sidewalk, blond hair blowing in the breeze. The navy pants Eliza could see beneath the hem of her coat told her Lindsay must be working today. Shirley Allbright, owner of the Enchanted Florist, where Lindsay was a floral designer, had gotten it in her head her staff would look more professional in a uniform.

Eliza had only rolled her eyes when Lindsay told her the news. Once Shirley’s teenage daughters started helping out this summer, Eliza had no doubt the dress code would fall by the wayside.

Lindsay skidded to a stop beside her friend. “What’s this I hear about Kyle Kendrick moving in with you?”

When irritation surged, Eliza reminded herself this was her oldest and dearest friend. She should be able to tell her anything, including the fact that her father had sold her inheritance. One thing held her back.

The Shaw name meant something in Good Hope. The last thing Eliza wanted was for the family’s reputation—her reputation—to be dragged through the mud.

She wished she could trust Lindsay not to say anything, but Lin’s mother, Anita Fishback, was the type to hound her daughter for details and Lindsay might slip. The news that Donald Shaw had done something so egregious to his own child would be prime fodder for the gossip pigs.

“Hey.” Lindsay’s hand grasped her arm, her eyes filled with concern. “I know you’re upset over Jeremy marrying Fin, but don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? You barely know the guy.”

Eliza had debated how to explain the man’s presence in her home. Lindsay had inadvertently handed her a logical explanation on a silver platter. “Is that what everyone thinks, that Kyle is my boyfriend?”

Obviously confused, Lindsay frowned. “Uh, yeah. What else?”

“Maybe it’s just about sex.” Mortified that anyone might think she was still pining away over Jeremy Rakes had Eliza grabbing hold of something any early-thirties woman could understand. “You have to admit the man is hot.”

It was a truth no one who’d seen him could dispute. With brilliant blue eyes, hair nearly as dark as hers and a work-hardened body, Kyle was every woman’s fantasy. Not hers, of course. She was very selective. But she had noticed other women ogling him on the job site.

Lindsay’s red lips curved. “You never said a word.”

“You’re dating a minister.” For the first time, that seemed a definite plus in Eliza’s mind. Though she’d never mentioned anything to Lindsay, she’d always considered the minister connection somewhat of a negative. “You may soon be a pastor’s wife, preaching to us heathens.”

Her friend’s smile faltered before firming. “I’d never do that.”

“Still, I’m not going to share any juicy details.”

“As if you ever have,” Lindsay reminded her.

That’s because there hadn’t been much to tell. “Kyle isn’t here for the long haul. Once the community theater job is done, he’ll be gone.”

Even as she tossed out the explanation, it once again struck Eliza as odd that Kyle would buy a house when he didn’t intend to stay in Good Hope. Or did he?

“If he’s leaving, why have him live with you?”

“Why not?” Eliza started down the sidewalk, wishing she’d worn a heavier coat. “He’s been living out of a motel. I have lots of room. I, ah, even told him his sister could stay with us when she comes to visit.”

“How old is she?” Lindsay brightened. “Do you think she’d be interested in helping with one of the Cherries’ projects while she’s in town?”

As the Cherries were responsible for planning all the holiday activities in Good Hope, group members were always on the lookout for volunteers.

“I don’t think so.” Eliza’s tone was droll. “She’s twelve.”

“Oh.” Lindsay’s smile returned. “I like kids that age. They’re so…bold.”

“Great. I’ll have a bold twelve-year-old underfoot.”

“I bet you two will get on just fine.” Lindsay gave her arm a squeeze. “I’ve got to scoot. Shirley hates it when I’m late.”

When Lindsay turned to head back toward the flower shop, Eliza realized they were in front of Beck and Ami’s house. The Victorian stood across the street from Hill House. Just seeing the imposing three-story structure had her thinking of Beck and the pity she’d seen in his eyes.

While she watched, the front door opened. It wasn’t Beck who stepped onto the porch, but Jeremy. The mayor wore the gray coat that was her favorite, the one that made his eyes look extra blue.

He turned and his gaze locked with hers. Seconds later, Jeremy hurried down the stairs toward her.

Even knowing that in two weeks this man would marry the woman he’d always loved couldn’t completely quench the momentary flash of longing that rose inside her.

That didn’t mean her father was right. She had moved on. Heck, just yesterday she’d let a hunky guy move in with her.

Eliza stifled a chuckle as Jeremy reached her.

“Hey, you.” She offered him a warm smile and was surprised when he didn’t smile back.

There were tight lines of strain around his mouth, and those blue eyes were grim. “We need to talk.”

Eliza lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “So, talk.”

He glanced around. “Not here.”

“I was heading to Hill House to do some work. There shouldn’t be anyone around this morning.”

“Okay.” He took her arm and propelled her across the street and up a narrow sidewalk to the stately white house with the black shutters.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she unlocked the door. The house that had once belonged to her family had been granted historical status and was now a frequent site for special civic and private events.

Eliza flicked on the lights and gestured with one hand toward the main parlor, chairs already set up in a semicircle around a lectern for the Cherries’ meeting next Monday. “Want to sit?”

Jeremy shoved his hands into his pockets, rocked back on the heels of his boots. “No.”

The terse tone had her frowning. She’d had her fill of arrogant men. “What’s got you in a mood?”

“Did Kyle Kendrick move in with you?”

Eliza gave him an arch look. “I don’t believe my personal life is any of your concern.”

“Dammit, Eliza.” Jeremy blew out a breath, visibly fighting for control. “The guy is using you.”

Actually, Eliza thought, if anyone was doing the using, it was her. “If he is, that’s your business…why?”

“You’re my friend.”

That’s right, she was his friend, his buddy. The thought snapped the control on her anger.

“As my friend,” even to her own ears, her voice was deadly calm, “you’re well aware I can take care of myself. Or you should be.”

“You don’t know him.”

She lifted a brow. “You do?”

Jeremy slid a hand through his hair and began to pace. “Maybe.”

When he turned back in her direction, she pointed to the grandfather clock on the verge of chiming in the corner. “While this discussion has been perfectly lovely, I need to get some work done.”

“You’re kicking me out?” For some reason, the shock in his voice lifted her spirits.

“What more is there to say?”

“Tell me why he moved in with you.” Jeremy’s expression turned mulish, much the way it had when he was six and his mother had told him he couldn’t have a pony.

“For the sex.”

“The-the sex?” Jeremy blustered.

“Yes.” Inordinately pleased with her off-the-cuff response, Eliza smiled. “A woman has needs, and Kyle hits all the right buttons.”

“He’s using you.”

Eliza shot him a sly smile. “And doing a bang-up job of it.”

A muscle in Jeremy’s jaw jumped. “I’m concerned he latched on to you because he’s upset with me.”

“Why? You and I are just friends.” The word, which for so long had been sweet on her tongue, tasted bitter.

“He knows what you mean to me. He could be using our friendship to get what he wants.” Jeremy placed a hand on her coat sleeve. “I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Her heart suddenly squeezed tight in her chest. It was the sincerity in his eyes, more than any words, that had her temper cooling. “What do you mean ‘get what he wants’?”

Most people in Good Hope loved the affable mayor.

“He wants me to do something that I’ve been putting off.”

“You’re being irritatingly cryptic, Rakes.” She kept her tone light, her eyes on his face.

“He wants me to do a DNA test.”

Startled at the unexpected response, Eliza widened her gaze. “Why?”

“He thinks—” Jeremy blew out a harsh breath. “Hell, Kyle Kendrick is convinced I’m his brother.”