by Karen White
“No.” He cut her off and kept walking.
She had the decency to stay on the bottom step instead of following him home like a lost puppy. “I just want to come and see what else—”
He turned abruptly, keeping his anger tightly in check. If there was one thing he had learned from his father it was that the only thing anger ever guaranteed was an awkward apology later. “What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand? Maybe in Atlanta it’s different, but up here in the mountains it means ‘absolutely, positively no, not ever.’ ” He turned back around and continued walking.
“Don’t just walk away from me! I’m trying to help you, and you won’t even give me the time of day to listen to a possibly lucrative business arrange—”
He heard something scrape against wood and then shatter, and for a moment he thought she’d thrown something at him. But when he turned around to look he saw a pot and its bright red geranium splattered on the cement walkway at the bottom of the porch steps, and Caroline was slumped next to it on the bottom step, where she’d apparently fallen and knocked over the pot. One pale arm clung to the railing, preventing her body from joining the unfortunate plant.
He reached her in several long strides and was alarmed at how blanched the skin on her face appeared. He placed the back of his hand to her cheek, then drew it back, the feel of it reminding him of Shelby after they had pulled her from the water.
“Where can I find your mother?”
She had managed to fold herself in half and had her forehead resting on her knees. She didn’t look at him, but her voice was full of alarm. “No! I’ll be all right. I just got a little light-headed, that’s all. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
He looked at her doubtfully. “Can I at least bring you inside? Call a doctor?”
She shook her head in response, her forehead still pressed into her knees.
“Go jump in the lake?” The side of her cheek wrinkled and he knew she was smiling.
“Now there’s a thought.”
Relieved that she seemed like herself, he straightened. “I’m going to get you a glass of water and some damp washcloths. I’ll be right back.”
Surprisingly she didn’t argue, so he went inside and quickly found what he was looking for, as well as a cordless phone, and he picked it up, too. When he returned he saw that she hadn’t moved from her turtle-in-a-shell position, her face pressed neatly against the tops of her knees.
He squatted next to her. “Do you want to move to the lounge chair? You might be more comfortable, and the view is better.”
She sent him a sharp look, and he was sure now that she was on the road to recovery. She didn’t brush away his hands when he bent to help her up, so he knew she wasn’t totally herself yet. He settled her into the lounge chair and handed her the glass of water. She took brief little sips, as if she were suspicious of too much of a good thing.
She leaned her head back, and Drew placed one of the washcloths on her forehead. He moved forward to pull the neck of her T-shirt down so it wouldn’t get wet from the second washcloth, but she pushed his hand away, a look of panic crossing her face, then pulled at the neck of her shirt to raise it higher.
“I’m fine. I don’t need another one.”
“But if you put this on your neck, it will cool you off quicker.”
“I don’t want it.” She paused for a moment. “But thank you.”
He sat down on the edge of an adjacent Adirondack chair and placed the unused washcloth next to him. “Are you going to be okay? I still think I should call your mother or at least a doctor.”
Caroline shook her head. “No. Really. I’ll be fine.”
He rested his elbows on his thighs and steepled his fingers. “Does this happen often?”
She didn’t answer right away. “It didn’t used to. It’s happened a couple of times at work—which is why I’m here now. I’m supposed to be staying calm and getting better.” She opened one eye and looked at him meaningfully. “But that doesn’t seem to be happening.”
She closed her eyes again, and he stared down at her pale, fragile skin and saw the blue veins on her hands and arms. Whether or not it was what she’d intended to do, the guilt hit him hard and deep. His father had done a pretty good job of teaching him all about guilt, and Drew had been an avid learner.
Drew was pretty sure he wasn’t the one who’d been arguing before Caroline had collapsed on the porch steps. But when he saw her with her eyes closed and her physical frailty more evident, the guilt almost overwhelmed him. And when he thought of the way she’d looked the one time he’d seen her smile, and he’d seen the woman beneath the mask, he knew it was more than guilt that made him open his mouth.
“Are you supposed to be doing anything while you’re here besides relaxing? Like exercising or something?”
She seemed to answer reluctantly. “Yeah—I’m supposed be doing light cardio. But unless I missed it, there doesn’t seem to be a gym in Hart’s Valley.”
He couldn’t help himself and laughed out loud. “You don’t need a gym to exercise, you know. There are miles and miles of forest trails here on Hart’s Peak.”
“I know that. But it rains a lot and sometimes it’s too hot or cold to be outside. It’s a lot easier in a gym.”
He snorted and she opened her eyes. “And here I was thinking you were the resident and I was the visitor.” He smirked. “Tourist.”
She threw the washcloth from her forehead at him but he caught it before it made contact. “I know a lot more about this mountain and valley than you’ll ever know. My family has owned this house for almost forty-five years, and I’ve been coming here since I was in diapers. You can’t call me the tourist.” She looked away for a moment, and she seemed to be grappling for the right words and the right attitude to say them with. Lifting her chin, she said, “And I don’t want to be caught out on a trail somewhere and have . . . an episode . . . without help nearby.”
He had a good idea what it must have taken for her to admit to that chink in her armor. Despite the lift of her chin, he had seen her vulnerability. It had reminded him suddenly of Shelby, of the way she had always faced the world as a strong, independent woman, but whose eyes held depths of loss and secrets he had never felt privy to.
Drew sat back. “I’m not suggesting you go alone. I’d like to learn more about the back hills and places only the locals know about. You could be my tour guide, and you’d be getting good exercise, too.”
She frowned and he added, “And I promise not to talk to you at all.”
Her head fell back against the lounge chair again and she crossed her arms over her chest. She smirked. “There’s a trail at the top of the mountain where people fall off all the time. I’d be happy to show you that one.”
His desire to help her diminished somewhat, but unfortunately the guilt did not. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m sure there’re trails closer to the valley and lake that might be more fun for both of us. I’d learn about my new home and you’d get your exercise and pass the time more quickly so you can return to Atlanta and whatever it is you do there.”
“I’m an accountant.”
“And I never would have guessed that.”
She narrowed her eyes at him again in an expression that was beginning to be very familiar.
“So . . . what do you say? I think it would be a nice, easy trade.”
She snorted. “You’re a lot like Jewel, you know? God forbid either one of you ever does something just to be nice.”
“To you?” Now it was his turn to snort. “You’re not really the type to inspire the warm fuzzies, are you? People need to have some kind of reciprocal guarantee in their dealings with you to make sure they’re not turned to stone or something.”
She began to sit up but he held her shoulders firmly back against the chair. “Now don’t go getting upset again or I will call your mother.” She relaxed but glared at him as he stood to leave. “Just think about it and let me know.” He moved the phone closer to h
er so she could reach it, then wrote his phone number down on the cover of a magazine that was lying next to it. “I’ll be home if you need anything.”
“Like a gun?” She smiled sweetly at him and he couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Don’t give me any ideas.” He started to turn away before he remembered something she’d said earlier. “What did you mean about Jewel and me being just alike?”
She waved her hand in the air. “Nothing important—just that she drives a hard bargain.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Jewel. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Caroline raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She lay back once more on the chair and watched him as he turned around again, and for a moment she looked like a tiny, helpless kitten . . . with very, very sharp claws.
He was almost to his back door when he heard her call out, “Thank you.” He turned around to look and saw that she’d already turned her head away.
“You’re welcome,” he called back, then let himself into the house.
CHAPTER 7
JEWEL LEANED HER BIKE AGAINST THE WINDOW WITH THE FOR SALE sign in it, then climbed the steps to her grandmother’s shop. It was still early in the morning, and Jewel was glad to see there were no customers parked in front of Rainy Days. She opened the unlocked door, not even bothering to test it first. It was one of things she enjoyed most about living in Hart’s Valley. In Charleston you locked everything, and her dad would never have allowed her to ride her bike anywhere except the driveway behind locked gates. She enjoyed the freedom and the way she could watch the sky fade from blue to purple at the end of the day without city lights and lots of buildings to block the way. Not that she would ever admit any of it to her dad.
The bells chimed as she got a whiff of rose potpourri and bolts of new fabric and something else that she called magic. She wouldn’t describe it to anyone that way, but the smell of Rainy Days was very much magic. Maybe it was because it was there she felt her mother the most. Sometimes she even imagined that she saw her over near the cash register where Rainy kept the jars of candy and gumballs. Being here made her feel not so alone in the world anymore.
“Back here!” her grandmother shouted, and Jewel followed the voice to the back room, where quilting scraps were now littering the table and floor as if a tree full of them had been shaken and the fabric leaves allowed to land wherever they would.
Rainy was poised at the sewing machine table in the corner, threading the bobbin, and looked up over the tops of her bifocals. “Hi, sweetie. Your dad called and said you were on your way over.”
Jewel rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you call him back and say that a rabid deer attacked me, then carried me off to his evil lair to pelt me with fern fronds.”
Rainy took off her glasses and stood so she could hug Jewel. “Now, now—he’s your father, and it’s his job to worry about you and make sure you’re safe. Besides, we don’t have ferns here, so he’d know I was lying.”
They smiled at each other before Rainy pulled away and began looking at the fabric scraps strewn across the table. “I’m looking for some yellow satin with appliquéd daisies—it’s from a formal dress your mother wore in high school. I know it was here yesterday, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere now that I need it.”
Jewel bent over the table and began looking, her fingers outstretched as she sifted through colors and patterns and memories. She stole a glance at her grandmother. “Was Mom a big football fan?”
Rainy shook her head, concentrating on the bright colors beneath her hands. “Not really. Well, not until Jude started playing. He’d made the football team here at the high school before his dad moved them all to Atlanta. He was a real star—the youngest quarterback we’d had for a long time.” Rainy’s head was bent forward, but Jewel could see the creases in her cheek as she smiled. “He sure loved that game. I don’t know if he ever played again once they moved, which was a real shame.”
“So he didn’t graduate from Hart’s Peak High School?”
Rainy paused, her hands still. “No, sweetie. Jude never graduated. He died his senior year. But I know he always had plans to join his graduating class here at Hart’s Peak, at least for the ceremony. I don’t think he really ever called Atlanta home.”
Jewel was about to ask another question when the bell above the door chimed, followed quickly by the sound of the door slamming.
Rainy shouted, “Back here, Caroline.”
Jewel looked at her with raised eyebrows, and Rainy looked back with the same expression.
“Her mother called right after your dad did to let me know Caroline was on her way.”
Jewel almost laughed as they both turned to see Caroline enter.
Caroline didn’t see Jewel at first as she walked into the cluttered room. But when she spotted her with her red hair tied back in a ponytail she thought for a moment she was seeing Shelby’s ghost. It wasn’t a frightening feeling at all. Instead Caroline almost felt relief, as if asking for forgiveness were still within reach.
She continued walking toward Rainy and held up a bag from Rich’s department store. “I hope you don’t mind my just popping in. My mother asked me to bring this to you.”
Rainy took the small brown bag and opened it. She pulled out a sample-size jar with a screw-on lid and read the label out loud. “I can’t read the French words, but I can read this part in English: ‘For the mature skin.’ ” She frowned. “Can’t think why your mother would be sending this to me.” She dropped the jar back into the bag and placed it under her sewing table. “Think I’ll put some on my butt and make sure I tell her how soft it is next time I see her.”
Jewel laughed out loud, and Caroline grinned in her direction before turning back to Rainy. “Maybe we should trade, then. She gave me some hemorrhoid cream to shrink the pores on my nose and cheeks.”
Rainy snorted. “Remind me before you leave to go hunt down a can of WD-40 for you to give to your mother. You can tell her it’s for her creaky joints.”
Jewel laughed again. “I’ve gotta run. I’ve got things to do, and I need to be fast or my dad will report me missing.” She sent Caroline a meaningful glance. “And I’ll see you tonight.”
Caroline raised her hand in farewell. She hadn’t even thought about the deal Jewel had suggested in the few days since they had spoken about it. It was ridiculous, really. She wasn’t going to let a thirteen-year-old force her into going back into the water; she’d avoided that for over a decade. Besides, she had alternatives.
“Do you mind if I use your phone?”
Rainy looked up over her bifocals. “Not if you’re using it to call your office in Atlanta. Margaret gave me strict orders not to allow you to sneak behind her back and get yourself all stressed-out again. She said your boss has made arrangements for your absence and there’s no need to check in. You’re here to rest, remember.”
Caroline felt somehow betrayed. It had always been her and Rainy against the world. And for a while her dad had been on her side, too. “If I don’t keep tabs on things while I’m away, it will be even more stressful when I return. I don’t plan on getting worked up just by talking for a few minutes on the phone.”
Rainy sat back down behind the sewing machine and began replacing the bobbin. “Drew told me what happened yesterday on your front porch. Be thankful I haven’t told Margaret about it. She’d have you strapped down in a chair where you couldn’t escape.”
Heat flooded Caroline’s face as she recalled how she’d almost fainted and how Drew had been the one to witness it. She supposed she should be thankful that he hadn’t mentioned it to her mother.
“I just forgot to breathe deeply, that’s all. I got a little light-headed—nothing serious and certainly nothing my mother needs to know.”
Rainy raised her eyebrows again. “She loves you, you know.”
Caroline picked up a portion of faded yellow satin with appliquéd daisies hanging on by single threads. “Yeah. Like a Venus fly-trap loves a fly
. Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone to live with my dad.”
Rainy gave her full attention to Caroline. “No, you don’t. And don’t ever say that in Margaret’s hearing or you’ll answer to me. There are things you don’t understand that your mother had to deal with after . . . after Jude died. Just believe me when I tell you that the best thing for you was to remain with your mama. I know you two have always had difficulty seeing eye-to-eye, but that’s only because you’re so much alike.”
“We’re nothing alike. That’s why I miss my dad. We used to be able to talk about anything.”
Rainy took off her glasses and began rubbing the lenses with the hem of her shirt. “When’s the last time he called you just to talk?”
“I . . . He’s a doctor, Rainy—you know that. He doesn’t have a lot of time.” Caroline felt flustered. Rainy always had a way of peeling off all the layers and leaving the stinking onion. Except she was wrong about Margaret. “And my mom and I are completely different. We have nothing in common.”
Rainy just snorted.
Unsettled, Caroline looked down at the shimmery yellow fabric she’d been holding and stared at the desperately clinging flowers, faded and with curled corners, but somehow still attached to the bright satin. She felt an odd sort of kinship with them.
The unsettled feeling hit her again, and with a flick of her wrist she tossed the scrap onto the table. Rainy looked up. “Hey, let me see that. I’ve been looking for that piece of material all morning.”
Caroline picked it up again and held it out to Rainy. “And why are you using a sewing machine? You’d be banned for life from any quilting circles if that got around, you know.”
Rainy smirked. “Yes, well, we’ll keep this between you and me, okay? Besides, I’m just using the machine to do some mending and hemming of the fabric squares. My arthritis is getting so bad that it’s hard to do the small handwork.” She gave a heavy sigh and took the fabric.
Caroline noticed how thin her arm was, and how the once strong and capable hand seemed almost transparent, like a brittle oak leaf left on the ground too long. She knelt by the sewing table and looked up into Rainy’s face. “How are you doing? Really. Mom said you’d finished your last chemo treatment, but that doesn’t tell me anything. I want the truth. I’m not delicate, regardless of what she’s been saying.”
