"It's your mean cousin Ronald's fault, but I guess that doesn't help any."

"No." Amanda drew in a deep breath. "It doesn't help at all. I wish his granddaddy had gone to California with the rest of the Scotts. Then this wouldn't be happening."

Jessica was silent, not pointing out the obvious truth that if Amanda's grandfather had properly provided for such a contingency in his will, the house would still belong just to the Brandons. But somehow Ronald Scott had found the old deeds and discovered that the limitations had run out. He'd immediately filed a claim. The judgment had been levied at a time when Amanda had been caught up in her own affairs in Memphis and Great-aunt Hannah was already in a Holly Springs nursing home. Without Hannah having appointed a proxy, Scott had been successful in his suit to have the property sold and the proceeds divided between all the remaining heirs on both sides of the family.

"Too bad your cousin wouldn't agree to try to get the house listed on the National Register of Historic Homes," Jessica said after a long moment of silence. "But maybe it's best this way. After all, you'll get a lot of money."

"I'd prefer keeping the house in the family. I even made the Scotts an offer to share ownership of the house as well as the surrounding acreage if they would agree not to sell to developers. They refused."

Amanda's throat tightened. Coming on the heels of other tragedies in her life, this was almost overwhelming. To keep back her tears, she focused on the delicately carved plaster frieze above the parlor door. Figures of knights errant and beautiful heroines had infused her imagination as a child. Now they left her with poignant memories as blurred with time as the plaster figures. Yet the two-story red brick antebellum home held more than just childhood memories of happier times; it was her only legacy.

Jessica turned to look at her, her head tilted to one side and a faint smile on her lips. "You know, you should be living in this house. It fits you better than anyone I can imagine. You were just born in the wrong time."

"What do you mean by that, Jess?"

"Oh, you know-wearing long skirts, little white lace gloves, a big hat and ribbon sash under your chin-like we used to play dress-up when we were little girls, remember?"

She laughed. "I remember. You always wanted to be Rhett Butler."

Jessica grinned. "Why, with your wicked green eyes and blonde hair, you'd have given Scarlett O'Hara a run for her money with Rhett. You even remind me of your aunt Hannah a little bit."

"An eccentric old maid?"

"Oh, you're not an old maid. You've been married. No, I meant… romantic. That's it. You're the romantic type, all dreamy eyes, soft smiles, and long blonde hair. You were just born a hundred years too late. I always thought you fit in here." Jessica shrugged. "I never have understood about that ridiculous family feud between the Scotts and the Brandons," she said frankly. "Not that it matters. Nothing can save the house now. Unless you can change history."

"I only wish I could," Amanda murmured. "But I know that's impossible."

Wandering into the parlor, Jessica wiped a hand over the elegantly carved edge of the heartpine mantel gracing the fireplace, then grimaced at the dust on her fingers. "It's probably just as well. Heartpine is worth a fortune nowadays. Can hardly find it anywhere, and collectors and builders pay a pretty price for it. This house will be worth much more piece by piece."

Amanda winced, and glancing up, Jessica added hurriedly, "You did everything you could, Manda. But once Hannah died and the ghouls demanded their portion of the inheritance in cash, there was nothing you could do but sell."

"I know." Amanda wandered restlessly from the front parlor to the curved staircase leading to the second-floor bedrooms. The handrail was worn smooth and satiny by generations of Brandon hands sliding along its elegant length. Golden wood had darkened with time and use. "You'd think," she murmured, caressing the smooth finish, "that the Scotts would want to keep it intact. After all, it's their inheritance as well as mine."

"Obviously they don't. I hear developers plan to put a mall here." Jessica's keys clattered like a metallic rattlesnake as she lifted her hand to pat a stray strand of hair back into place. "You know how large corporations pay top dollar for prime locations, so I imagine the lure of money would fast overcome any kind of sentiment they might feel. And it's not as if any of them even care about the old house. At least you came back here as often as you could for a while."

Amanda shrugged. "After all, I did spend most of my childhood here before my parents were killed. Lord, what was I-fifteen?-when I went to Memphis to live with Grandma Weaver? I would have been a junior in high school the next year. Everything happened so fast, it seemed; my world turned upside down in the blink of an eye… I could hardly bear to think about this house for a long time. It held so many memories for me, and I was too young to be able to separate the good from the bad. Poor Aunt Hannah. I know she wondered why I didn't come visit her for so long."

"Somehow," Jessica murmured, "I think she understood. She always spoke of you when we chanced to meet, and always said how you would be back soon."

"It was five years before I could make myself return, though, and that wasn't until Aunt Hannah got sick the first time." Amanda sighed. "She was so glad to see me that I felt guilty it had taken me so long. But she just gave me a pat on the cheek and told me that she understood, and it was as if I'd never left. Then I met and married Alan-and things got so bad so quick, it seemed."

Jessica shifted uneasily. “I really was sorry to hear about Alan, Manda. This has been a rough few years for you, hasn't it?"

"Pretty rough. Grandma Weaver died, then Alan's cancer, and now Aunt Hannah's gone-for the first time in eleven years, I'm completely alone. I've no family left."

“Except the Scotts, and all of Holly Springs knows they haven't spoken to the Brandons in years." Jessica reached out and put a hand on Amanda's arm. "Hey, I'm always here for you. Just like when we were little. Remember our secret place?"

Amanda laughed. "Not as secret as we thought-a tree house only twenty yards from the house had to be as obvious as you can get."

"But we thought it was well hidden, and that's what really mattered then. Maybe our tree house is gone, but the tree's still there. And there's always my kitchen. You can always come back to Holly Springs to live, you know."

Shrugging, Amanda said vaguely, "I've still got a job in Memphis, and an apartment in a nice area, and-"

"And ghosts. Alan's dead, Manda. There's nothing in Memphis to keep you anymore. He was sick for so long, and you plumb wore yourself out taking care of him. It's over. You can go anywhere."

Amanda managed to shake her head. "I can't even think of anything like that right now, Jess. Everything's so overwhelming that I just feel tired."

"I understand. Well, I should go. I'll be back in the morning to help you itemize everything for the auction. Sure you'll be all right here by yourself?"

Amanda forced a confident smile. "I'll be fine. You did stock the pantry with a few necessities for me, didn't you?"

"Of course. Tea and sandwich fixin's." Jessica leaned toward her and kissed the air by Amanda's cheek. "See you early, sugar. Get a good night's rest."

Following her as far as the wide front porch, Amanda gazed across the front lawn which was dotted with red and white clover. She drew in a deep breath, relishing the fragrances of honeysuckle and the lemony-sweet tang of magnolia blossoms. Only three of the once numerous magnolia trees were left, the others having fallen to time and weather over the years since they'd first been planted. Somewhere there were old family photographs of smiling people in front of the house in its early days, when the towering oaks that now lined the long driveway were still saplings.

Shadows stretched across the lawn; lightning bugs blinking in the waxy green leaves of the magnolias reminded her of earlier, happier times at Oakleigh. Sitting on the top porch step, Amanda keenly felt the losses in her life: her parents, grandparents, husband, and most recently her last close relative, Great-aunt Hannah. All gone. And now even Oakleigh would be taken from her.

As dusk faded into the deep shrouds of night, Amanda rose from the porch and went into the large, empty house. It seemed to close around her, enfold her with memories and wishes.

Chapter Two

Morning brought humid temperatures along with bright, hazy sunlight. Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, Amanda went downstairs to eat breakfast. Jessica arrived a short time later, letting herself in the front door with the key in the mailbox. Even from the kitchen at the back of the house, Amanda could hear the muted echoes of the front door closing behind Jess.

"Mercy," Jessica complained as she came through the pantry into the kitchen, "it's as hot as blazes out there already, and it's only June." She slung her purse and keys to the kitchen table. Wearing a thin organdy blouse and white linen shorts, she looked more like a model than a woman about to help sort through the accumulated dust and belongings of generations. She eyed Amanda with a lifted brow. "Aren't you hot, sugar?"

"Yes. I don't know why they never wired this house for air conditioning." Chair legs scraped loudly against the linoleum floor as Amanda got up from the table and put her empty cereal bowl in the huge white porcelain kitchen sink. She said over her shoulder, "Let's start at the top of the house while it's still fairly cool. We're liable to be baked if we don't."