Walker Pride

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The road leading to the Lydia Morgan’s house took Susan out a dirt road even longer than the one that led to Eric’s. She couldn’t help but feel as though she were nearly parallel to the other road.

  This one was graded better and she hadn’t been tossed around quite as badly. As she crested the last small hill in the road, she noticed the house.

  Her breath caught in her lungs as she took in the sight. This was exactly what she thought a huge Georgia estate house would look like. Who was Lydia Morgan?

  Susan caught a glimpse of the fascinated smile on her mouth in the mirror. Perhaps she hadn’t bid this job quite high enough. She amused herself with the thought.

  Pulling into the drive, she pulled through the loop in front of the house and parked.

  Before she even stepped out of the car Lydia was opening the front door and walking toward her.

  “You found it okay?”

  Susan smiled as she stood. “I did. I’ve been out this way quite a bit, actually.”

  Lydia only nodded. “Welcome. Come in. My grandfather is just inside and would love to meet you. Then we can discuss the catering.”

  Susan pulled her bag from the car and shut the door. “This is beautiful.”

  Lydia smiled. “It is. I’ve lived out here most of my life. She shrugged her shoulders. Since my father died.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “My grandfather was very kind to take us in.”

  “Don’t you ever want to live in town?”

  Lydia looked around as if to make sure no one was around. “I do. Someday the time might be right. Right now doesn’t seem to be that time,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  Susan knew enough to let that lie for a bit. It did cross her mind that Lydia and Bethany might be kindred souls. After this job maybe she’d set up a coffee date for the three of them. The thought intrigued her.

  Lydia opened the front door to the house and led Susan inside. She stopped as she crossed the threshold. The house was as grand inside as it was out. “Wow,” she said the word before she even realized it. “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house quite this ornate.”

  The chandelier that hung in the entry was majestic. The floor was white marble and the wood was a rich cherry. A grand staircase came down both sides of the entry. What a girl wouldn’t give to be a bride on those stairs, she thought.

  “My grandfather is in his library.”

  Library. Houses really had those?

  As Lydia walked down the hall, a man came toward them. He was tall with a familiar gait to him. He carried his hat in his hand and raked his other hand through his hair. When he lifted his head, Susan caught the gasp before she expelled it. The man had a very striking resemblance to Eric.

  “Tyson,” Lydia said to get the man’s attention. He raised his head and looked at her as if he hadn’t seen them. “Everything okay?”

  The man, who had obviously been in some kind of fight, winced. “Don’t ask. Who’s she?”

  Lydia narrowed her gaze on him. “This is Susan Hayes, the caterer.”

  “Right. Nice to meet you.”

  Lydia shook her head. “My brother Tyson,” she offered.

  “Nice to meet you, Tyson.”

  “Yeah.” He looked back at Lydia. “Where is Grandpa?”

  “In the library. We’re headed in there now.”

  “I’ll wait then.” He placed his hat back on his head.

  Lydia touched his arm. “Something happened.”

  “Six more cows,” he said gruffly and walked out of the house.

  Lydia sighed. “Sorry about that.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  She smiled, but Susan could see the tension in it. “Things are a little tense out here right now. No worries. Right this way,” she said entering another room.

  Susan looked around. This, in fact, was a library. She wasn’t sure she’d seen many bookstores with this many books in it.

  “Grandpa, Ms. Hayes is here,” Lydia said softly to the man seated in the oversized leather chair.

  He turned his head and locked his stare on her. She felt her heart stutter as he kept his gaze on her.

  He stood and crossed to her. “You’re the caterer?”

  “I am,” she said confidently holding her hand out to shake his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You come highly recommended.”

  “I appreciate that. I’d love to know who…”

  “Lydia, you two head to the office and finish your business. I’ll be at the barn.”

  “Tyson is looking for you,” Lydia said softly.

  “I thought he might be.”

  Mr. Morgan left the room and Lydia seemed to deflate. “Follow me.”

  Susan followed her further into the house to a large office. The walls were lined with bookshelves made of dark cherry, which matched the rest of the house.

  “Please, have a seat. I’m sorry for the attitudes of all the men around here today,” Lydia said as she shut the thick door. “There is some transitioning going on and a lot of tension.” A crease formed between her brows. “I hope that doesn’t affect our business dealings. I would hate to have you go.”

  “I’m fine,” Susan said smiling. “Believe it or not a lot of my work is performed in tense situations.”

  “You did Mr. Walker’s funeral, correct?”

  “I did.”

  Lydia nodded. “That’s where I got my referral. I didn’t tell my grandfather that though. He and George Walker were not what I’d consider friends.”

  “I see. Well, I work under a veil of confidentiality. I understand. Should we look at the menus I’ve designed for you?”