“Excellent.” Lillian nodded. “So that’s resolved. Robyn, you’re moving forward with the idea of opening an antique store.” Lillian turned to Mason. “I’m trying to convince her to move in with us and open a store here in Santa Barbara. What do you think of that?”
All Robyn, all the time? “I’m in.”
“Let’s see if we can convince her with our individual powers of persuasion.” Her smile turned conspiratorial. “About the house. I’ll set up a meeting with the historical society so you’ll be comfortable with them.”
“I appreciate that,” he told her.
Robyn opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and turned away. “I can’t do this.”
“Robyn, love, what’s wrong?” Lillian sounded concerned.
“I love this house so much. I grew up here, and it’s always been in the family. In a single day, I’m going to lose you and it?” She gave a strangled laugh. “I’m being unreasonable. I’m sorry. I know you can’t keep the house. It’s just I never pictured it belonging to anyone else.”
She blinked several times. “I sound like Harlow, wanting me to keep my house for her wedding. It’s silly. I’ll get over it.”
“Robyn,” Mason began, only to stop when she turned to face him, tears filling her eyes. The sight of her pain made him want to protect her. Only there was nothing any of them could do about Lillian dying.
“I can’t talk about this anymore,” she whispered. With that, she ran from the room.
Mason rose, then hesitated, not sure what to do.
Lillian picked up her cup of tea. “If I were you, I would strongly consider going after her.”
“Good idea.”
nineteen
ROBYN RAN TO her bedroom balcony and clutched the railing, as if holding on as hard as she could would somehow give her strength.
Tears dripped down her cheeks. Which was totally ridiculous. She’d always known the house was going to a relative of Leo’s and would have to be sold. No normal person could afford it. So why was she feeling such intense loss—as if something precious had been torn from her?
She heard footsteps and tried to control her tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not wanting to face Mason. “I have no idea where all this came from. One second I was fine, and the next... I don’t know. Everything just hit me.” She wiped her face, then sucked in a breath. “If I wasn’t so close to the emotional edge, I would try to make a PMS joke, not that I’m feeling especially hormonal. Totally dumb, because I always hated it when Cord accused me of reacting to something simply because I had my period.”
She winced as she realized this was perhaps not the most appropriate conversation. Before she could figure out what to say or how to explain indefinable feelings, he pulled her into his arms.
“This sucks,” he said bluntly. “Lillian being ninety-four, Leo having to leave the house to me, you having to deal with all of it. You’re reacting because this is life-changing. It has nothing to do with PMS. It just totally blows.”
His expression was two parts concern, one part regret.
“Don’t be sorry that you’ll inherit the house,” she told him. “It’s good. Except for Lillian dying.”
“And the fact that you’re stuck with the cats.”
She laughed. “There is that.”
He brushed moisture from her cheeks. “She’s a great lady, and I don’t want her to die for at least twenty years.”
“She’s already told me she won’t make it to one hundred and fourteen.”
“I’ll take a hundred and twelve.”
She sighed. “I know you can’t keep the house. The historical society will take good care of it.”
He watched her carefully.
“I mean it,” she told him.
“Lillian told me to keep some of the land for myself and build a house on it.”
“That’s a great idea.” She thought of all the acres around the house. “You could get a perfect plot with an ocean view. I’m envious.”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you have the one next to mine for cheap.”
“I may hold you to that.”
Before she could say anything else, her phone buzzed.
“That might be one of the kids,” Mason said, stepping back. “You should check.”
“I’m not sure if you’re being considerate or if you’re happy to have me distracted from your generous offer.”
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Can it be both?”
She smiled and looked at her screen. The text was from Cord.
The kids are missing.
Her stomach dropped, and she nearly went to her knees. She dialed his number.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Hey, hi. I didn’t think you’d call.”
His calm voice was at odds with the message. “You said our children are missing. What does that mean?”
“Austin quit. Just up and quit, which pissed me off, then Harlow decided to take a few days. It’s the middle of summer. Who does that? It’s your fault. You spoiled them.”
The relief was nearly as intense as the fear and was quickly followed by anger.
“Dammit, Cord. Don’t tell me my kids are missing when you know they’re not. You fighting with them isn’t my problem.”
“They’re both gone, and I don’t know where.”
“Have you tried texting them?”
“No. I’m pissed. Why would I text them?”
She thought briefly of throwing her phone off the balcony, but stopped herself. The gesture would only be satisfying in the moment.
“You’re a lunatic and not in a charming way,” she said, her heart rate finally returning to normal.
“You’re going to text them, so tell them they’re both in trouble with me.”
“Tell them yourself. Goodbye, Cord.”
She hung up and quickly texted Austin. He answered her in seconds.
Waiting in the cell lot at the New Orleans airport. I was driving out to hang with you and Lillian for a bit. Harlow decided to join me. I’m picking her up. We should be there in maybe three days.
There was a lot of information in those few sentences, she thought. And while she had a thousand questions, this wasn’t the time.