Bluebells on the Hill (2 page)

Amanda stared at it, intrigued. It looked
forlorn and forgotten. She thought that Cora lived in it, but it
was hard to believe. There was a definite air of desertion about
the place. Perhaps Cora had abandoned it, had given up caring,
knowing it was only a question of time before she left.

Amanda felt an unaccustomed stirring of
anticipation. Maybe she could fix it up. Make it pretty and ... and
happy again. It would definitely be a change from her current life.
A welcomed change, plus new challenge. In that instant she knew she
wanted it, would have it if at all possible. Too bad for Mac; this
property would be hers!

There were three steps up to the front deck.
Amanda followed Martin into the cabin, eager to see the rest of the
place. The living room was a good size, easily half the house. To
the left, a large pot-bellied stove would provide heat in the
colder months. Near the door to the kitchen, Cora had placed a
table and chairs for a dining area. The furniture was old and worn,
the padded chair seats faded to nondescript gray. Amanda glanced
around, ideas spinning. A few coats of paint, some bright spots of
color here and there, would turn it all around. Very little work,
really, if the structure were sound.

'Bedrooms through here.' Martin led the
way.

Definitely not a hard sell, that's for sure,
Amanda thought again. Well, if she bought it, it would certainly be
all her own doing. She’d have no one else to blame.

There were two bedrooms, one smaller one with
a single bed. She peeked in. It was fairly clean, though plain. No
pictures on the walls, bare floor and dirty windows. The master
bedroom was larger, with windows on two walls, but not much more in
the way of decorations.

The trees did not grow as densely behind the
cabin as in front. Amanda moved to see the view from the back. The
land gradually inclined upward, opening to a grassy meadow. She
felt her throat tighten at the beauty before her. The hill was
losing its rich spring green color as the summer took hold,
browning the grass. It was still quietly pretty. A short distance
from the house, to the right, a bank of bluebells nodded in the
afternoon sun. As Amanda's eyes traveled further, she took in the
deep green of the rising pines and top-heavy cedars contrasting
sharply with the pale, brassy blue of the cloudless sky.

'I like this place,' she said softly. She
looked around the room and smiled. Returning to the living room,
she gazed out of the smudged window at the trees that grew so
straight, so tall, with dark bark and two shades of green, the
lighter new growth in contrast to the older darker tone. What a
difference from city concrete. She crossed over to the sofa and sat
down, regarding Martin deliberately.

'Does the furniture come with the place?'

He stared down at her in disbelief. 'You’re
serious? You’d consider this place?' He looked around as if trying
to see what would appeal to anyone.

'Yes, I'm serious. Is the furniture
included?'

He sank down on a nearby chair. 'I don't
know. We can ask Cora. Mac won't like it, though, if Cora sells to
someone else.' He shook his head.

'I'm sure Mac will survive,' she said drily.
'Cora's evidently been here some time.'

'Yes, but if he knew she was planning to
leave, he'd sure try to get this place.' Martin waved his hand.
'All the surrounding land is his. This would fill it in.'

She nodded. 'So you said. How much?'

'I don't know.' Martin hesitated.
'Seventy-five?'

Narrowing her eyes in consideration, Amanda
did not answer right away. Finally, 'Okay, if Cora leaves the
furniture, and the structural inspection passes.'

He nodded. 'We can see. I can have the
inspection done tomorrow.' He took out a handkerchief and mopped
his forehead, pushing his hat back to reach his brow. Replacing his
hat, he stood. 'Want to see around the property?'

'Of course!' Amanda rose eagerly. How much of
the land would be hers? How large was five acres?

They tramped around the cabin, Martin
remaining quiet during most of the tour, only pointing out
boundaries when they reached them. The more Amanda took in the
property, the more she wanted it. What was it that gave her such a
sense of homecoming? She was not even a native Californian, yet she
felt as if she belonged; as if the mountains were calling her
home.

Neither spoke on the short drive back to
town. Martin had a look of growing disapproval on his face. Amanda
mentally reviewed her property. There’d even been a small stream
cutting through one corner of her land. She was already calling it
hers. She hoped Cora would be agreeable to the terms. If not, she
shrugged, there would be other properties.

Yes, but with bluebells nodding on the hill?
With a stream running through it? She shook her head. Cora had to
sell!

Cora looked up eagerly from the magazine she
was reading when they returned, still the only occupant of the
office. 'Well, did you like it? Do you want it?'

Amanda smiled at her. 'I did like it and I’d
be interested in it. If,' she cautioned, 'it’s structurally sound.
Also, if you would consider leaving the furniture.'

Cora's face clouded. 'Oh, the furniture. I
don't know. I hadn't thought about it.' She fell quiet while Martin
went to take his chair. Amanda moved to sit at his desk, in the
chair next to Cora.

'Landsakes, nothing there worth much. I will
need to take the sofa and one bed, but the table and other bed can
stay. If you want them, have them,' Cora decided.

'When can I take possession?' Amanda asked
Martin.

'Well, that depends,' Martin said slowly.
'First we have to get the credit approvals, then the bank does the
credit check, appraisal..' He doodled figures on his notepad.

'Probably a month or so, if all goes
well.

'So long?' Cora whined. 'I want go sooner
than that.'

'I don't need a credit check,' Amanda said
quietly, 'I plan to write a check.'

Two pair of eyes stared at her.

'Write a check,' Cora repeated.

'I thought the price we discussed was
seventy-five thousand dollars,' Martin said, jogging her
memory.

Cora's eyes widened at the figure mentioned,
but she kept quiet.

'Yes, with furniture. I'd like possession as
soon as possible, if the inspection’s all right. Not,' she was
firm, 'in a month.'

Martin was at a loss for words.

'I can write the check now, and you can call
my bank for verification of funds. I have identification.' She was
matter-of-fact, assured, taking her check book from her purse. She
took a pen from Martin's desk and began to write. Before signing
her name, she paused and looked up.

'I do have another condition, in addition to
the furniture. I don't want it to get out how I purchased the
house.'

Cora shook her head, her expression still one
of stunned disbelief. Write a check for a house!

'No, we won't say anything,' Martin
added.

'I'd like to move in as soon as I can,'
Amanda said, signing her name with a flourish. 'Do I make it
payable to Cora or the real estate firm?'

'First Title Trust Company. They’ll handle
escrow, though I don't think they have ever had a house paid for
all at once before,' Martin said, still looking a bit
shell-shocked.

When Amanda had filled in the name she ripped
the check from her book and handed it across. Martin took the check
and looked at it. Glancing at his watch, he pulled the phone closer
and dialed the number of the bank printed on the face of the
check.

Amanda sat calmly watching him as he spoke,
the tinted glasses hiding her expression.

Cora licked her lips. Her eyes darted from
the check to Amanda, and back to Martin as he identified himself,
asked for verification, and waited for a senior bank official to
respond to his questions. While Cora was on edge as the minutes
dragged by, Amanda sat serene and quiet. Inside she was almost
dancing a jig. Who knew she’d find a perfect solution the first
minutes in town. It augured well for the future.

'Hello, Mr Fairfield, this is Martin Roberts.
I'm a real estate broker. I have a check for a house that a Miss
Amanda Smith wishes to purchase. I'm calling to verify the funds
are in the account. Your teller forwarded my call to you.' He
paused while the official on the other end spoke. 'Sure, she's tall
and thin, with black hair. It's long.' He peered at Amanda. 'What
color are your eyes?' he asked politely.

With an amused smile, she removed her tinted
glasses, revealing beautiful, clear blue eyes, the dark lashes
surrounding them needing no artificial aids to enhance their
loveliness.

'Yes, Mr Fairfield, it's her.' He spoke to
the phone, but did not take his gaze from Amanda.

Cora looked at her, a puzzled frown on her
face.

Martin's eyes widened and he looked confused.
'But ... No, that's fine. We just didn't realize. Yes, of course.
Thank you.' Slowly he replaced the receiver.

'Amanda,' he said, still looking at her.
'Amanda.'

She inclined her head. 'Yes, but I'm
traveling, um, incognito as it were for the summer. The last few
years have been very hectic. Exciting and fun, you realize, but
tiring and a strain. I just want to relax, rest. Maybe write a song
or two. Just be myself for a while.' She leaned forward in her
chair. 'Please help me get this a small place for myself in Timber,
Mr Roberts. I’ll be a good neighbor. Just lend me some support. I
want to be just plain Mandy Smith for a while. Not a celebrity, not
sought after for what I do, but liked, or disliked, for myself.
Just for myself. I want to be an ordinary person again, for a
while. For a summer. Can you understand that, Mr Roberts?'

He nodded. 'Martin,' he said, as if still in
a daze.

‘
Would someone please tell me what is
going on?' Cora broke in fretfully. 'Is the check good?'

'Oh, yes, Cora. Today’s your lucky day. This
check is very good. When you sign over your deed, the place becomes
Miss Smith's and you are seventy-five thousand dollars ahead–less
my commission of course.'

Cora sat back. 'I still can't believe anyone
can just write a check for that amount.'

'Anyone probably cannot. This is Amanda. I
know you've heard her songs: Riverboat Gambler, Sing the Mountain
Down.'

Cora's head jerked round. 'Is that true? Of
course. I thought you looked familiar without the glasses. My
granddaughter has some of your CDs. I always thought the photo of
you had been touched up, but your eyes are real. You're a right
pretty gal, Miss Smith.'

Amanda smiled. 'Thank you. My hair's
different, too,' she volunteered.

'Yes, I remember it as curly and wavy and
sort of flailing around.'

'This is my disguise, such as it is. Do we
have a deal, Mrs. Rosefeld?'

'We do indeed. We do indeed.' Cora turned a
beaming face to Martin. 'There, I knew I could sell it to someone
other than Mac!' she said triumphantly.

CHAPTER TWO

Amanda was awake, luxuriating in the
knowledge that she needn't get up now or any time this morning, if
she didn't want to. She stretched lazily, rolled over on her side
and gazed out the back window. From her pillow she could see some
of her hill, and a small section of the bluebells, bright and fresh
in the early morning sun. Watching them, she felt a warm sense of
contentment.

It was hard to believe that, even with all
the money she’d made over the last years, this was the first piece
of property she had owned. Shrewd investments, contributions to
charities, money sent home; but not one piece of property until
now. She hugged herself with glee, a pleased smile spreading across
her face. Now she owned land, and a house, albeit a rather small,
run-down one. But it held charm and appeal for her. It now belonged
to her and her alone. She’d plan and instigate its resurgence as a
desirable residence, use it as a refuge, a haven when the pressures
of her chosen field got to be too much. She was beholden to no one.
What she chose to do to the property was solely her own decision,
and she was excited at the prospect.

Letting her eyes wander around the room,
Amanda reflected on how different it was to wake up in this room
compared to the rooms she usually woke in. The others had the
modern similarity found in all hotels today. This rustic, shabby
room was a study in contrast, with its old curtains, bare floor,
shabby furniture. It would be a pleasant place, when she
refurnished it, painted and decorated it a little. Until then, it
would suffice just as it was.

Hard to believe that she had arrived in
Timber only two days ago. It was a small, almost forgotten little
town in the Sierra Nevada range. Its glorious heyday had been
generations before, when gold fever prevailed and men spent their
time and lives searching for the precious metal in California's
Mother Lode. These strong, rugged mountains still held over twice
the gold that had ever been taken from them. She smiled again,
dreamily. Maybe she'd strike it rich here. It was there, only
waiting to be found. First chance she got, she'd try panning in her
creek.

In the meantime, it was pleasant to just lie
in bed, no deadlines to meet, no new city to travel to before
night, no placating her manager or fractious members of the band.
Just peace and quiet and tranquility. She’d recharge, sooth her
jangled nerves and try song writing again. She had loved writing
music almost more than performing the songs, but had gotten away
from it lately with the hectic schedule she’d been following.

Though, she acknowledged to herself, she also
enjoyed the crowds, the applause for a job well done, a favorite
song sung for an enthusiastic audience. She would have it again,
but not just yet. This summer, at least, would be just for her.