Southern Spinster Read online

  She was still chasing after those things.

  Garreth cleared his throat beside her, his hand nervously running up and down his thigh. Maybelle smiled at his vulnerability, so unusual to see on such a handsome fella.

  He opened his mouth, but only a small grunt squeezed out before a blush filled his face and he shook his head. Aww, maybe she should help the poor guy out.

  “Hi there,” she said, turning toward him. During one of her many lessons, she’d been taught to open her body up during conversation to make the person feel more at ease.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice relieved, soft, and low. A flutter flew through her, and all her manners fell from her mind.

  “Why ya so nervous, handsome? You’re not part of the act are ya?”

  He chuckled, his eyes focusing on his untouched salad. “No, no.” He gulped and met her gaze. “Just a bit out of my comfort zone.”

  “It’s all these women, ain’t it?” she teased. “You ain’t used to being stared at and flirted with so much.”

  Michael snorted behind her, and she flicked her gaze over her shoulder to share an amused glance with him. Garreth had to know the effect he had on people; he could start a youtube channel of only selfies in a slideshow and make a killing.

  “A bit, yeah,” Garreth said. “More like not used to this many people. I’m usually, uh, you know… table for one.” He held up a finger, pretending a waiter was in front of him, then shook his head, embarrassed. Maybelle pressed her lips together. How adorable was he?

  “Oh, I take myself out to eat all the time.” She slid another piece of salad into her mouth, and he followed suit. “Goody’s Barbeque Pit has a specific table for me. I call it no man’s land, because no man would ever sit there with me.”

  Garreth heartily laughed. “That’s so sad.”

  “I see you’re all broken up about it.”

  “I only laugh because I can relate.”

  She wanted to call him out on it, but was interrupted by the main course. Will made a whooping sound from across the table.

  It’d been ages since Maybelle had eaten chicken cordon bleu, and the moment it slid into her mouth, she moaned loud enough most of the table glanced her way. Garreth’s ears turned red, but Maybelle only declared it one of the best things she’d ever had, and continued to eat and gab.

  “You aren’t easily embarrassed, are you?” Garreth asked, his tone awed but curious.

  “Only by her brother,” Michael added, and Maybelle gestured to him with her fork and nodded her agreement with that.

  Garreth’s eyes toggled back and forth between Maybelle and Michael, and she tilted her head, curious what he thought. A flicker of jealousy seemed to be lingering in his eyes, and she’d hate for him to think she was put off by his shyness. In fact, it only made him more attractive.

  “I admire that,” he said quietly to his food.

  “Admire what?” she asked, leaning in and resting her chin on the palm of her hand. Michael had joined the conversation on his other side, and she was going to take advantage of the privacy she and Garreth suddenly had.

  He jumped as if he were surprised she’d been listening. His smile twitched. “Uh… just that you don’t worry so much about what other people think.”

  “What makes you assume that?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Do you?”

  She thought for a moment. “Sometimes. I’m good at hiding it.”

  A silent chuckle lifted the spirit in his eyes, and her skin ran warm. “Well, then I admire that.”

  A’right… she liked him. Already. Oh, this was bad. Or was it good? Was he interested or simply being polite? She watched him eat for way too long for it to not turn awkward, and when he finally asked if there was something on his face, they both laughed.

  Dessert came out a bit after that, strawberry and chocolate ice cream that elicited another moan upon first taste. Michael had been telling a hilarious story that had half the table rolling in their seats, including Garreth who kept sharing glances with her and making her heart happy.

  “So, Maybelle…” he started, toying with his napkin. Tingles spread up her arms at the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Are you… I mean, you’re here in Frostville, but it isn’t exactly one of the normal weeks here… I just… I guess I was curious—”

  “If I was single?” she finished, her voice rushed and hopeful. His eyes widened with surprise, and oh heavens, if that wasn’t what he was going to say, she was going to bury her head into the vat of ice cream she was sure was in the kitchens.

  A clatter crashed through the room, and a surprised scream came from the back of Maybelle’s throat. All eyes turned to the head of the table where a man had collapsed into his dessert. Maybelle’s heart was in her temples, pounding and pounding until Winter fell over the man dramatically, and she was reminded that they were in the midst of a murder mystery week.

  “Joshua,” Winter cried. “Joshua, oh my… someone help!”

  Maybelle’s eyes shot to Michael’s seat, only to find it empty. A smile fell on her lips. He was one of the actors; no wonder he was so boisterous, so comfortable. He was only playing a part.

  The rest of the cast made themselves known rather quickly. The older woman who’d been next to Will was in on it, and there was a couple at the other end of the table putting on a show for the guests not quite as close to the action. Maybelle searched for her brother, eyes skating around to each face, panic curdling in the pit of her stomach when she couldn’t locate him.

  Winter let out a high-pitched cry, continuing to sob over the “body.” Wow, she was really good. Maybelle hadn’t given it much thought, but she hadn’t expected much performance wise.

  The dining hall doors banged open. Will stormed through, his jaw set in determination.

  “Uh oh…” Maybelle braced herself for a public chastising, closing her eyes and flinching back. A warm hand settled on her forearm, the touch unfamiliar but comforting. She looked down and bit away the joyous smile of having Garreth make such a bold move.

  But Will marched right past her, his stride full of purpose. Maybelle and Garreth furrowed their brows at each other just as her brother put his arms around Winter and dragged her from the room.

  “Uh…” Garreth said as soon as they’d left. The entire room, including the actors, seemed to be completely speechless. “That was a bit… intense.”

  Maybelle slowly nodded and bit away a smile. “Oh goodness… I didn’t count on the actors to be so…” She covered her face. He thought this was all real and his protective streak kicked in. Maybelle would’ve been a bit more offended that he didn’t grab his own sister from the room if she wasn’t so worried that he would be the one to kill her once he got clued in.

  Maybelle plopped down on the bottom step of the grand staircase that led to the exquisite suites, resting her chin in her palm and praying Will wouldn’t drag her off the moment he reappeared. She wasn’t sure where he’d taken Winter or how long it’d be before he figured out her little fib, but she figured she’d better stay put until he emerged.

  Her gaze drifted to the hallway leading to the dining hall, excited chatter filling the silence. It was sure to be an entertaining week, but Maybelle’s hope of finding a match was suddenly diminishing, and she couldn’t put a finger on her mood swing. Garreth was handsome and interesting, absolutely adorable to boot, but there was a fear that niggled in the back of her mind that she’d misread their conversations, his hand on her arm, the blush in his cheeks. She’d been wrong so many times before, and Garreth was so shy; maybe that was just how he behaved around women in general.

  She shook her head. It was day one. There was an entire week ahead of her.

  The sound of Will’s boots echoed down the hall to her right.

  Well, hopefully an entire week…

  She put on an apologetic smile, twisting her fingers while she waited for her berating.

  “Will…” she started when he didn’t say anything.

&n
bsp; “Think you shoulda clued me in?” His voice shook, embarrassment clouding his anger. She shrugged, guilt running her blood cold. The new environment was asking enough of her homebound brother; she couldn’t imagine how humiliated he felt, and if they were a hugging family, she’d have tossed her arms around his neck and begged for forgiveness.

  As it was, they were more of a sparring duo.

  He sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

  She gave the giant grandfather clock a glance. “It’s only eight o’clock.”

  “Nine where we’re from.”

  He has every right to be upset, she told herself as heat trickled up her spine. Frustration pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she shoved from the step, her heels clacking as she marched over. Her defenses were up, and her mind reeled with arguments, with justifications for why she’d lied, no matter how silly they seemed.

  “Is our entire stay a murder mystery?” he clipped.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “But don’t look at me like that. It’s fun. You’ll love it.”

  His face said otherwise and only made her frustration spike.

  “If you’re so confident in me liking it, why didn’t you tell me?”

  A snort nearly escaped her. Was he kidding? He’d been Grumpy Gus ever since she’d convinced him to go.

  She crossed her arms over the laced bodice of her dress. “You’d thrown such a fit when I asked you to come with me, not to mention all the whining on the drive up here, and you’ve been a party pooper since we walked through those exquisite double doors. So don’t you go accusing me of making things worse when it’s you who needs an attitude adjustment.”

  He tossed his hands out. “I just humiliated myse—”

  “And another thing!” she shot back, fired up and fighting back tears she prayed he didn’t see. “Stop moping about the weather. We’re inside for pete’s sake.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Geez, Bells, I’m not trying to—”

  “This could be it, Will.” Her voice fell soft—well, soft for her—and she quickly made sure no one was around. “This could be the place I find the love of my life.” Hope sparked inside her as the words fell from her lips. Please let it be the place I find love.

  Will’s jaw slowly relaxed, the anger and embarrassment diminishing from his ocean eyes. She pulled at her hair that was coming loose from the updo she’d spent an hour and ten minutes on.

  “I brought you for support,” she said. “So support me.” She donned a cheesy grin. “Put on a smile, even if it’s fake as all get out. You owe me that much.”

  He actually didn’t owe her anything. It was a cheap move for her to use, but it worked most of the time. Her brother was the only man in her life who’d stayed, who’d loved her despite her dramatics, her overexcitement, her apparently unappealing qualities that had labeled her the town spinster. She owed him much more than he would ever owe her.

  “Kay,” he said. “I’ll smile. I’ll enjoy it, a’right?” His hand ran over his beard, and a small laugh fell from his lips. “But gosh, Bells, try to fill me in on the details before I think someone’s been murdered right in front of me.”

  The tension in her shoulders rolled off, and she let out a giggle. “This was way more fun to watch,” she teased, glad they were back on good terms. “You shoulda seen everyone when you dragged the star of the show from the room.”

  His giant hand covered his face and muffled a groan. She bit back a laugh at his expense and promised herself that she wouldn’t ask him to do anything else for her.

  At least for a while.

  The mansion at midnight had a creepy, haunted vibe that sent a chill down Maybelle’s spine. She tiptoed down the hall past all the suites toward the elevator. She’d noticed when they’d checked in certain floors were only accessible with a key, but she was ready to explore every and any area she could get to.

  Sleep had evaded her, and she thought about soaking in the tub until her mind had shut down, but she hadn’t wanted to disturb Will, who’d been sawing logs in his room. She’d put him through enough to add sleep deprivation on top of it.

  The elevator doors shut with a soft zip and she let her forefinger dance over several of the floors until landing on four. A little unnerved by the silence, she hummed under her breath, daydreaming of Garreth’s dimpled chin and nervous yet strong looking hands. The ghost of his touch crept over her wrist, and she smiled. Please let it have been an interested move, she thought.

  The doors opened and she peered out, lowering her humming so it didn’t echo off the picture adorned walls. Her gaze fell over the paintings, amusement tilting the corner of her mouth. She’d expected portraits of some royal family, maybe even Winter’s parents or some indication of her upbringing. Her character in the murder mystery had a princess title, but it could very well pertain to Winter’s real life. Maybelle knew all about Winter Garland’s famous parents, one in politics, the other in Hollywood. She was nothing if not a thorough researcher and as soon as she’d booked the Frostville suite, she’d educated herself on the mansion and its owner.

  She squinted and leaned forward, admiring the pink paint strokes that made up the poodle’s head. The painting was appropriately titled “Pink Poodle” and it hung next to “Violet Vulture” and “Green Gorilla.”

  “I think I like her,” she mused, admiring Winter’s quirky taste in art. She followed the colored animal paintings all the way to a back window. She leaned against the golden railing and sighed at the city lights, so different from the county she’d grown up in. If she had the money, she’d park her booty in the middle of Las Vegas or Manhattan and live there for the rest of her days.

  A glimmer caught the corner of her eye, and she scooched over, trying to get a good look at the water reflecting the outside lights. It had to either be a fountain or a pool, but it wasn’t the water that had her attention; it was the marble statue set off just to the side. A man. A man with a quiver of arrows and a bow at the ready.

  She pushed off the railing, rushing past the animal art and mashing the button for the elevator. It was ground level, the statue, hanging out on the south eastern side of the mansion, and though Maybelle was horrid with directions, she was going to scour the place to find it.

  Her robe rustled against her pajama shorts as she scurried out of the elevator and through hallway after hallway on the main level. Security personnel would nod at her as she wandered around, but didn’t offer up any good directions. One man whose beard would make Will mad jealous pointed aimlessly while spouting off left turns and right turns while Maybelle gave him a blank stare. She got lost after the second direction and decided to head back to the main staircase to get her bearings.

  “Geez, this place is like that movie,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and thinking of Labyrinth. At least Frostville seemed monster free so far.

  She let out a sigh and decided to use her nose. If it was a pool, it ought to smell.

  She sniffed around, looking more like a basset hound than a paying guest, following the faint scent of chlorine down a long hallway just past the lounge. The light dimmed, and a promising blue glow filled the space around her. As soon as she’d taken one more turn, a set of glass double doors led out to a massive indoor pool.

  Her shoulders slumped. Dagnabbit. She thought she’d finally found the elusive Cupid, but she’d forgotten the mansion hosted much more than one pool.

  Accepting defeat, she slugged forward, pressing gently on the door handle. It swung open silently, and she grinned. Every door back home could be used as the Monroe’s security system. Frostville must stock up on the WD40.

  Her feet slipped on the tile near the five-foot end of the bean shaped pool, her eyes drifting to the circular hot tub. Everything was so calm—eerily calm. Maybelle wasn’t used to such quiet, such undisturbed furnishings. She licked her lips, found the controls for the hot tub jets, and let them go wild. The bubbling echoed through the room, soothing her nerves.

  “This place really c
ould be haunted,” she said to herself, her voice bouncing off the walls. “It’s way too quiet to be real.”

  The water bubbled in response, and she laughed, dipping her toe and splashing amongst the small waves. She could absolutely get in, clothes and all. The hot tub was warm and tickled her feet; if there were towels she was totally doing it.

  Careful not to slip, she wandered around the edge of the pool looking for a closet or a basket… something that had towels. She knew this wasn’t a hotel, but the mansion sure behaved that way sometimes.

  Lucky for her, she found a stash of fresh, folded towels in a closet just outside the pool room, along with a floating donut she wanted to take for a spin at some point during her stay. She stripped her robe and draped it over a lounger, made sure the towel was within reach, and stepped into the bubbling hot water.

  “Ahhhh,” she sighed, loud enough that she probably woke someone directly above her. It’d been forever since she’d sat in a hot tub, letting the jets pummel the small of her back and the bubbles tickle her toes. She closed her eyes and grinned, her shorts and tank top floating to the surface until she pushed them back into place.

  Heaven help me, I don’t think I’ll ever leave this spot as long as I live.

  She relaxed further, her body floating to the surface like it always did. When they were kids, Maybelle would tease Will for sinking like a rock to the bottom of the pool while all she had to do was relax and bob to the top. He’d tease her about her floating abilities preventing her from diving. If she lost a piece of jewelry to the depths of six feet or more, it was hopelessly lost unless she convinced her brother to save it.

  Her eyes fluttered open, the heat from the hot tub fogging the glass windows that surrounded her. Through the steam, she could almost see the perfect silhouette of the statue she’d spotted earlier, either her mind playing tricks on her or the spirit of Eros truly did exist.

  She pursed her lips and sat upright to keep from floating away. “Hey there,” she said to the steam. “I tried to find your statue but this place is a maze.”