Chesapeake Summer by Jeanette Baker

that one, she’s the image of your mama.”
    Chloe winced. She didn’t need reminding that Gina, with her bewitching smile and terrifying temper, was turning out to be more of a Delacourte than Chloe would ever be.
    Noticing that her grandfather’s eyes were on her face, she recovered quickly and set the plate down in front of him. “These are the most delicious crepes on the planet. I’m having two.”
    â€œOne will do for me, thank you,” said Cole. He nodded at his housekeeper. “We’ll take it from here, Serena.”
    Waiting until she was well inside the house, he cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it, Chloe, but you look a great deal like my mother did when she was your age. In fact, you resemble the Delacourte side of our family far more than your mother or sister. They’re Beauchamps through and through, just like Nola Ruth.”
    A backwash of affection for this dear man flooded her chest. “It’s okay, Granddad. I don’t mind that I didn’t get Mom’s looks.” She grinned impishly. “I did get her brains, though. Even Dad admits to that.”
    Cole wiped his mouth. “Well, now, I think I can take some credit for that. After all, Libba Jane is my daughter.”
    Chloe laughed. “Be careful, Granddad. I’ll tell her you said that.”
    Cole Delacourte sat for a minute, content to simply look at his granddaughter’s vivid face, the Siamese-blue eyes and high-boned cheeks, the small, slightly arched nose and wide sensitive mouth, all framed by that straight swath of floating silvery hair.
    When, he wondered, would she discover her power? She was twenty years old, young, but definitely grown. Still, there was an innocence about her that reminded Cole of the women from his own youth. “I hope your mama doesn’t mind that you’re staying here with me and not at Hennessey House.”
    Washing down a mouthful of crepe with a swig of coffee so rich and strong she could feel the heat of it all the way to the center of her stomach, Chloe shook her head. “Mom knows I love it here. Besides, there are only two bathrooms at Hennessey House. You have more room and I don’t want to put any stress on Russ. It’s hard to share your house with someone else’s child.”
    Shocked, Cole stared at her. “Where did you dredge up that absurd idea?”
    Chloe shrugged, assuming an offhand insouciance. “Mimi and I had a heart-to-heart the last time I stayed at Dad’s.”
    Cole’s mouth tightened with uncharacteristic temper. “Is that so?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIf I were you, honey, I wouldn’t take your stepmother’s babblings as the Amy Vanderbilt of familial relationships. Whatever misguided philosophies are practiced in California, remember that this is the South. Nothing is more important to us than family.”
    She tilted her nose and showed him her profile. “Misguided philosophies and familial relationships,” she mimicked. “You sound like a lawyer.”
    â€œYou don’t say.”
    Chloe frowned, all teasing aside. “I’m guessing that you don’t care for Mimi.”
    â€œI’ve never met her and, believe me, I doubt that it’s my loss.”
    â€œDon’t say anything to Mom.”
    â€œMy lips are sealed.”
    Chloe leaned over and kissed him. “I’m going now. I love you, Granddad.”
    â€œThe feeling is mutual. Don’t forget your bike.”
    Chuckling at the four-year-old memory of her need to appear “cool” at the expense of a convenient bike ride into town, Chloe found her bicycle in the shed, swung her leg over the crossbar and headed toward the service road that led to the street.
    After the shade of her grandfather’s yard, the blast of humidity hit her like a wet blanket. It was three miles into town as the crow flies, a bit longer on the road.