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Olivia shuddered as she reflected on her mother's experience with breast cancer. “Do you remember her beautiful black hair? She lost every strand of it due to the treatments. In the end she was wearing wigs. Still beautiful. Still strong. And she never gave up on her faith. She fought the good fight. Mama managed to hold on for five years.”

“It's not fair, is it?” he asked, his heart lurching inside him at the thought of Olivia wading through her mother's diagnosis, illness and subsequent death. He knew all too well the kind of pain associated with such a terrible loss. “I used to wonder why God singled my dad out. I used to ask myself why other dads got to see their kids graduate high school while mine was buried six feet under by the time he was forty. I used to agonize over the fact that the slime ball who drove drunk that night survived when my dad didn't. He was such a good man, such an amazing father and husband. He never had a lot of material things and he struggled to stay employed, but everything he did was done for his wife and kids.”

“Oh, Hunter,” Olivia choked out, her eyes filling with tears. “It wasn't fair. You were just a little boy.”

Hunter shrugged, not bothering to hide his sorrow. He'd been hiding it for most of his life and it was a heavy load to carry. It felt so good to let some of it go and to let somebody in. “Life's not fair. And when it comes to losing a parent, I think it hurts like crazy no matter what age you happen to be. Being a kid just makes you feel more vulnerable, like there’s this giant gaping hole in your heart that can never be healed.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand, linking it with hers in a comforting gesture. He squeezed her hand back. Neither of them said a word for the rest of the ride to Savannah House, and none were necessary. Hunter knew that Olivia understood the grieving process and the unimaginable pain it brought to the living. Losing her mother had been a monumental loss, and she was still knee-deep in grief. It was a loss she'd always carry with her, even though the pain would ease with time. He'd like to tell her that, at another time when she wasn't rushing off to deal with issues pertaining to her inheritance.

Somehow, being back in Savannah had chipped away some of his layers, and he found himself revealing things he'd never felt comfortable sharing before now. He didn't know how she'd done it, but Olivia had peeled him like an onion, reaching a part of him that he'd believed was dead and buried along with his father.

“Good friends and good conversation are priceless.” Callie Duvall

Chapter Nine

Olivia waved goodbye to Hunter as the car turned around in the long driveway and headed back to Savannah. A feeling of satisfaction flowed through her. Hunter had been stunned about her inheritance. She had seen a look of keen interest sparkling in his eyes. As a savvy businessman, Hunter knew the prospects for Savannah House.

Her excitement was building with each and every day. She turned to look at Savannah House in all its glory. It stood l

ike a beacon in the fresh morning light, serving as a symbol of hope, not only for prosperity, but for renewed friendships and a continuation of Miss Hattie’s legacy. There was a hub of activity towards the end of the driveway, not too far away from the guest cottage Callie was living in. There were workers from Caliph Construction, along with several service trucks. The signs of construction work being done on Savannah House caused butterflies to flutter around in her stomach. The crew had already finished almost ninety percent of the work. They were finishing up in the posterior portion of the property, which wouldn’t affect their meeting today.

“Hey there!” a feminine voice called out. Olivia turned toward the airy sound of it, smiling at the sight of Fancy, dressed in a bright red dress and black heels. A trendy black hat sat perched on her friend’s head. She looked like a stylish city girl. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders.

“Fancy! I didn’t expect to see you here today. I thought you were in New York for a few more days.”

“Well, the wedding is rapidly approaching, so I figured I better come back so I can support Callie. I take my bridesmaid duties very seriously,” she said with a grin.

“Who else is here?” Olivia asked, noticing a few cars in the driveway.

“Well, Callie of course, and Morgan and Hope. I’m not sure Charlotte can make it,” she explained. “I just came outside to make a phone call.”

“We really need everyone here today. Time is slipping through our fingers,” Olivia said, a hint of strain evident in her voice. “Not to complain, but we still have to figure out a lot of things. We haven’t even begun to discuss pricing or whether or not we’re going to include a spa area. We need to tell the contractors immediately.”

Fancy made a face. “If I could make it all the way from New York, what’s Charlotte’s problem?”

Olivia shrugged. “I have no idea. She’s been super quiet lately.”

“Tell me about it. Since Case and I broke up, she hasn’t had two words to say to me. I imagine it must be difficult being caught in the middle.” Fancy’s voice was soft. Olivia could hear the hurt seeping out. She felt a burst of sympathy for Fancy. It must be tough to have lost so much due to a foolish mistake.

She reached out and patted her on the arm. “I’m sorry. I know it hasn’t been easy for you. I’ve been praying for you though.”

Tears welled in Fancy’s eyes. “Oh, Olivia. That means the world to me.” She sniffed back tears, then took a calming breath. “Well, let’s not keep them waiting,” Fancy said in a crisp voice.

They walked side by side toward the house, letting themselves in the front door without ringing the bell. It was their property after all, Olivia thought with a smile. No matter how many times the issue of ownership came up, she still found it hard to wrap her head around the fact that she was co-owner of one of the most glorious estates in Georgia.

As soon as they entered the hall, Morgan stepped out of the library and greeted them. With her long dark hair, soulful eyes and warm brown skin, she was a stunner. And she was an excellent chef, with a versatile culinary repertoire. Olivia couldn’t wait to sample some of her dishes.

“Hey, girls. I thought I heard a car pull up.” She quickly closed the distance between them and hugged Olivia, then reached out to Fancy, who didn’t embrace Morgan for very long or with any degree of intimacy. It struck Olivia that Fancy still hadn’t laid to rest the issues that had separated her from their once tight-knit group.

“We’re in here,” Morgan said, ushering them in to the library. Loud sounds emanated from the posterior portion of Savannah House. To Olivia it sounded like drilling noises. In her opinion, it represented progress and the future of their inn.

Callie and Hope were both seated on the sofa, deep in conversation. Olivia reached out and hugged both her friends, then sat down beside Callie. Fancy settled down in a love seat across from them.

“Charlotte sends her regrets,” Callie said, a rueful expression etched on her face.

“We really need all hands on deck,” Morgan said, her eyes widening.

Olivia could tell that although no one wanted to put Charlotte in a bad light, there was angst regarding her not being present.

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