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chateaux onto the small lots.
    Sammi reentered the room and sank onto the edge of a low, overstuffed chair across from the sofa. She folded her hands on her lap. “I’ve researched owner financing, and I think it’s a way we can both get what we want. In essence, you’d be my mortgage lender. That way I could fix the place up a little at a time as I could afford it, and when it’s all the way up to code, I can refinance through traditional means and buy it from you free and clear.”
    Walter blew out a sigh. She was a sweet girl and he hated to disappoint her, but he really had no choice. He shook his head. “I don’t want to get into the lending business.”
    Her brows pulled in an earnest frown. “It would only be for two or three years. And you wouldn’t have any out-of-pocket expenses.”
    “You can’t know that, Sammi. Once you get inside the walls, there’s no telling what damage you might find. You’re likely to run into something that you can’t afford to fix, and I’d have to step in. Besides, any money spent to fix this place up is money just thrown away. This house is only depreciating.”
    “Not to people who love historical architecture.”
    Walter cleared his throat. “The fact of the matter is, Sammi, my real-estate broker thinks I can get forty thousand dollars more than your appraisal without any cash outlay.”
    Her face fell. “But that’s all the bank said it would loan me. That’s all I qualify for on my salary.”
    Oh, man. She looked like she was about to cry. Walter had never been any good at handling female waterworks. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “Well, Sammi, you know the situation. The land is worth more than the homes in this neighborhood.”
    “It wouldn’t be if you and the other homeowners had asked for a historic-neighborhood-preservation status years ago.”
    It wasn’t the first time she’d brought this up. And hell, she might be right, but it was too late now. More than half of the lots in the neighborhood already held oversized McMansions, ruining what the historical-preservation people called “the integrity of the neighborhood.”
    “What’s done is done, Sammi. There’s no point in looking back.”
    “But it’s
not
done.
This
house could still be preserved. It’s a crime to let it just fall apart.”
    It wasn’t going to fall apart. It was going to be demolished. That was the trend in the neighborhood, but she refused to see the writing on the wall.
    “At least let me sign another lease,” Sammi implored.
    Walter shook his head. “I can’t do that, not with the house in this condition. My attorney told me I shouldn’t even be letting you live here as a month-to-month tenant, truth be known. In fact… ” He hadn’t planned to tell her yet, but while he was here, he might as well go ahead and break the news. “The truth is, I’m planning on moving to Arizona to live near my daughter and grandchildren, and I’m selling off all my holdings.”
    Her forehead pleated with worry. “You’re going to sell this house?”
    He nodded. “I’m selling it as-is.”
    She pressed her fingers together so tightly that the tendons on the back of her hands stood in bas-relief. “You won’t sell it to someone who wants to tear it down, will you?”
    No point in sugarcoating it. “I’m going to sell it for the most I can get for it.”
    “Which means to someone who’ll tear it down.” Her eyes blazed at him.
    He stood with a sigh. “Sammi, I didn’t tell you to argue about it. I told you so you could start looking for another place to live.”
    “But I don’t want to live anywhere else!”
    I know what you mean.
He wasn’t all that crazy about the prospect of moving, either, but there was really no reason for him to stay in Tulsa. No one here really cared if he lived or died. Helen had maintained all their social contacts, and since her death, he’d lost touch with all their friends. Oh, he’d received a few invitations to go out at first,