The Inn at Hidden Run

by Olivia Newport

  Silence.

  Two half-open doors led deeper into the house. She chose one.

  A woman was on the bed and a man—her husband, no doubt—on the floor, collapsed in a posture that suggested his last act had been to reach for her hand.

  Tillie. And the good man she’d married.

  The cry came again, louder, from the other room.

  Eliza held her head between her hands now, every movement threatening to cast her into the abyss of pain. The curtain was open in the second bedroom, allowing in some daylight, and on the bed was the girls’ aunt Callie.

  Still and stone cold like the others. Who was the first to fall to the fever? The first to expire? The last one to be too weak to even scribble a new message on a bit of cardboard and affix it to the door asking for coffins? All of them gone.

  The cry again.

  No. Not all.

  In the corner, on a small bed, half-hidden under a pile of clothing and damp sheets, was the boy.

  The little one whose arrival had been such a surprise to Tillie and brought such joy to all the family. Three. He was three. And alone.

  “Come here, Sammy.”

  The sound of his name brought his head out from under a pillowcase, and he stared at her with wide, dark eyes set in a narrow face not so different from his aunt’s.

  Eliza plucked the child out of the pile of clothing. His garments betrayed that he hadn’t had anyone to take him to the privy in who knows how long, but he had none of the vomit that caked the others, and his skin was cool. His dark eyes mingled terror and hope.

  Eliza stumbled out to the carriage, allowing Gerald to meet her halfway up the walk, steady her, and take the boy.

  “You are ill, Miz Eliza,” he said.

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “The fever?”

  She did not answer, instead reaching for the safety of the carriage.

  “My mama died from the fever,” Gerald said yet again.

  “But your daddy did not.”

  “I am taking you straight home. To the Sisters House, where someone can tend to you.”

  Eliza would have nodded if she had not feared the pain of the movement.

  “You must promise me one thing, Geraldous.”

  “Miz Eliza?”

  “This child shows no sign of illness. As soon as I exit the carriage, you must take him directly to Canfield Asylum.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Meri had set her coffee down and had one hand on the back door. Jillian abandoned her unrequested barista ministrations and crossed the room to stand next to her, wishing the old Victorian was fitted with a modern system that would allow her to say Alexa, secure the exits and keep the Davies family inside. She and her dad were outnumbered, but Nolan was already striding toward the front door.

  “Well.” Juliette dabbed her mouth with a napkin.

  “Mom.” Meri’s decrescendo inflection was rehearsed for a lifetime.

  Two small words told the story of a family.

  “Jillian has something you’ll all be interested to hear.” In another few steps, Nolan would be standing between Canny and the main entrance.

  He was smooth, that father of hers. Jillian hadn’t even had a chance to tell him what her discovery was since waking him that morning. Either he had great faith in her abilities as a genealogist, or he was rolling the dice to bring everyone back to the table to use his skills as a mediator.

  Maybe a little of both.

  What she had was strong. Jillian shifted her weight in a way that gently nudged Meri’s hand off the doorknob.

  Juliette stood up. “Canny has made up his mind.”

  “Seriously, Mom?”

  The exchange involved more words than the previous one, but the plot was unchanged.

  “No time.” Canny tossed the car keys from one hand to the other and looked down the hall toward the kitchen. “We still have to grab Meri’s stuff and get to DIA in time to return the rental.”

  “I promise it will be worth your while to hear Jillian out.” Nolan gestured toward seats in the living room. “Come join us, Juliette. Meri, this is important.”

  Beside Jillian, Meri huffed but didn’t move.

  “Don’t worry about your car, Meri,” Canny said. “I arranged for someone to drive it back to Tennessee. Just leave the keys at the Inn. You’ll have it in three days.”

  “Well done, Canfield,” Michael said. “Looking after every detail.”

  “Except the detail that I’m going to need my car because I’m staying here,” Meri muttered.

  “If you have something to say,” Canny said, “just say it.”

  “Why?” Meri marched across the kitchen and into the hall. “You won’t hear it for all the noise coming out of your own mouth.”

  “Meri!” Juliette’s rebuke was stinging.

  “That’s right. Take Canny’s side, like you always do.”

  “It’s not a matter of sides, Meri.” Juliette followed her daughter with the clipped gait Jillian had come to expect from her.

  “Isn’t it? What happened to hearing me out?”

  “Perhaps it would be best after all to just go home and sort all this out in the privacy of the family home. You will have an opportunity to explain why you’re unhappy. I still want to hear. Does it really matter if it happens in Colorado or Tennessee?”

  Mother and daughter stood halfway between the front and back doors.

  Jillian leaned against the back door. Her father obstructed the front. None of the Davieses knew there was a third exit outside her office. That hadn’t been part of the house tour. A third way was exactly what they needed, but not a third way out.

  “I found some fascinating information about the Davies family history,” Jillian said. “It would be such a shame for you all to leave without hearing it.”

  “Meri is what matters now,” Juliette said. “At home we can all work together so she can be successful and things will get back to normal. Her aunt Pru can help, or refer her to someone.”

  “Refer me? Right. I’m the problem here. Sheesh, Mom.”

  “Ten minutes,” Nolan said. “Let’s sit down together for ten minutes and hear from Jillian. I really do believe that what she has to say will surprise you and will be part of working together for Meri’s good.”

  Meri tilted her head, as if not sure how to interpret that statement.

  “Thank you again for your hospitality.” Canny slung a bag over his shoulder and picked up two others with the practice of a seasoned traveler. “But every day that Meri loses, the consequences will only compound.”

  “I wish you would reconsider,” Nolan said.

  “We’re past that point.” Canny sidestepped Nolan, managed to get the front door open unassisted even with his arms full, and lumbered down the walk toward the car.

  “Mom, he’s got your bag.” Meri gestured toward the front door. “Is that really all right with you?”

  “Inflaming things further is not likely to bring a good result.” Juliette scanned the living room in the manner of someone checking to be sure nothing was forgotten.

  “Your mother is right,” Michael said.

  Meri’s eyes begged Jillian to do something. But what?

  The front door opened, and Nolan slipped out.

  Of one mind and in step, Meri and Jillian raced to the tall front windows.

  “What’s going on?” Michael asked.

  “My dad just wants to talk to Canny.” Jillian met Michael’s eyes. Together, Michael and Canny were a united front. Separated, she wasn’t so sure.

  “He doesn’t know Canfield,” Michael said.

  “He’s pretty good with people.” Jillian shifted her gaze outside again, where her father had his hand on Canny’s shoulder and was speaking calmly.

  “We’re on a schedule,” Michael said.

  Jillian offered no response. Schedules could be changed. Fifteen hundred flights left Denver’s airport every day.

  Canny loaded the bags in the back
of the SUV and slammed it shut—and then started walking side by side with Nolan down the block.

  “What is he doing?” Michael headed for the front door.

  “Let him go.” Juliette’s words stopped Michael’s progress.

  Jillian knew enough married people to recognize the intonation that caused married people to exchange looks without speaking further and reach an understanding.

  “Nolan will handle Canny,” Juliette said.

  Meri closed her eyes for a second and blew out her breath.

  Juliette was flip-flopping like a fish not quite on the hook, and Jillian didn’t know if she might actually break free, but every sign of resistance helped Meri’s cause.

  “You can always get a later flight,” Jillian said, “or rebook for the same one tomorrow.” Canny had just booked the flight an hour ago. They were probably using a fare with a generous policy for change options. “I’d really like to share with you what I discovered.”

  “Print it out and put it in a folder. I’ll read it on the plane.” Michael’s eyes followed Canny and Nolan down the street.

  Three briefcases still sat in the hall at the bottom of the stairs, and Juliette picked up hers and took it into the living room. Michael did the same and began fussing with papers. Jillian exchanged glances with Meri, who shrugged one shoulder. This is what they do, the gesture said.

  “Juliette,” Jillian said, “I believe I was about to make you some coffee when breakfast was interrupted. I still can.”

  It sounded feeble. Coffee was not a panacea. Not for a mess like this. But Canny had the car keys and he was down the street, so it seemed a low risk to leave his parents in a room on their own.

  “Coffee would be lovely.” Juliette glanced up from her open briefcase. “I wonder if you have a to-go cup.”

  Flip-flopping again? What did she think Nolan was handling?

  “I think I do,” Jillian said. “I’ll take a look.”

  “I’ll help.” Meri followed Jillian into the kitchen.

  “Your mother doesn’t really want coffee, does she?” Jillian nevertheless rummaged in a cabinet for a recyclable disposable mug and lid and pushed some buttons on a machine.

  “Southern manners,” Meri said. “She wants to please you.”

  “And everybody else, apparently.”

  “You do know I’m not leaving with them.” Meri stilled Jillian’s motions and met her eyes.

  Jillian nodded. “Trust my dad. What would he say?”

  Meri squeezed her eyes closed. “Five percent.”

  The front door gave its raspy opening protest. Jillian’s stomach dropped twelve inches in half a second. The walk wasn’t long enough to accomplish anything. Even her father’s charms couldn’t bend Canny’s rigid will. Jillian snapped a lid on Juliette’s coffee. Since she’d made it, she might as well go through the motions of offering it.

  The latches of Michael’s briefcase clicked closed as Jillian handed Juliette the to-go cup.

  Nolan pressed his lips together, looked at Jillian, and shook his head about half an inch.

  “We’ve imposed enough.” Canny took the to-go cup from his mother’s hand and set it down on an end table. “It’s time to go.”

  Really? The woman can’t have her coffee? Juliette hadn’t really wanted it, but that wasn’t the point.

  Meri sucked in a breath and pushed it out before kissing her mother’s cheek. “Goodbye, Mom. I’ll text you. Or something. I know my housing in Memphis is kind of an issue. I’ll work on finding a sublet.”

  “Meri,” Canny said.

  She flicked her eyes at him. “Canny.”

  “Get in the car.”

  “Have a nice trip.”

  Canny closed the space between them and grabbed Meri’s elbow. She yanked away from him, pulled forward to gain some force, and let him have it in the gut with the same elbow.

  Definitely one experience Jillian missed out on by not having siblings. “Meriwether,” Michael said.

  “Dad.” Meri dared him to interfere.

  Canny stood with his hand on his stomach.

  “Sorry, Canny,” Meri said.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown-up capable of making my own decisions. You can’t just drag me around like I’m some prop in your perfect life.”

  “Running away was a truly mature decision.”

  “Canfield,” Juliette said.

  “Does it ever occur to you maybe I was running toward something, not away?” Meri said.

  Canny shook his head. “That wouldn’t fit the pattern.”

  “Fine. You want to see running away?” Meri put her face up against her brother’s. “I’ll show you running away.”

  She pushed past everyone in the room.

  Out the front door.

  Down the porch steps.

  Across the street.

  Canny shouted after her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Canny was halfway down the block before Nolan caught up, passed him, and blocked his path. When Canny tried to push him away, Nolan placed his hands firmly on Canny’s shoulders.

  He didn’t often take physical measures. He was a man of words and diplomacy. A mediator. A negotiator. But in a law practice, mediation was premised upon two parties willingly entering the process even if they were represented by separate counsel. Nolan was fairly certain that Canfield Davies’s counsel would have advised him to, well, can it. In this situation, he wasn’t sure Canny wouldn’t hurt his sister in his insistence to be right—especially after she’d proven she was willing to strike back.

  Meri’s five percent had sure come roaring out, taking an energy Nolan hadn’t seen coming. She deserved her space to get a grip. And she was right. She wasn’t a prop in anyone else’s life, much less an entire family’s structure.

  Trailing the sidewalk after Canny and Nolan were Jillian and the rest of the Davieses. He flicked Jillian an eye signal to follow Meri, and she picked up speed while he herded the family back toward the house.

  “Please go inside.” The last thing he—or Meri—needed was a prolonged spectacle in view of the neighbors. “Now.”

  Canny glared.

  Michael scowled.

  Juliette instructed, “Canfield, do as you’re told.”

  What a confusing woman. But her ambiguity was something Nolan could work with. And her tone held more sway with the men than her words. Canny pivoted and marched toward the house.

  Inside, Nolan sat the three of them on the sofa and pulled a chair from the opposite side of the room closer so he could lean forward and look them in the eyes.

  “This is exactly the kind of scene Meri was trying to avoid when she decided to drive away from Tennessee,” Nolan said.

  “It’s irresponsible.” Canny glanced at his father for confirmation.

  “I take note of your opinion,” Nolan said. “To the contrary, however, I submit that it’s incredibly brave of her.”

  “Brave?” Juliette’s gaze lifted.

  “The easy thing to do would be to follow the path laid out for her, to please the rest of you. Meri hasn’t chosen the easy path.”

  “It’s the best path,” Canny said.

  Nolan nodded. “Perhaps for you it was, and I can see how that colors what you think is right for your sister. You take pleasure in excelling in what you do as a physician.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I’m not going to speak for Meri,” Nolan said, “but my experience as a family lawyer and mediator puts me in a position to say that it’s time for you to stop talking and to listen to her—if it’s not too late to get her back to the table and make a safe space for her to speak.”

  The front door creaked, and Jillian entered, shaking her head.

  “You lost her?” Nolan said.

  “Sorry. It’s like that first night. She was just gone.”

  Juliette threw up her hands. “Meri has been doing this for yea
rs. Running off when she doesn’t want to face reality. I have tried to be understanding. I really have.”

  “I have seen your effort,” Nolan said.

  “And what has it gotten us?” Michael said. “This is why we must be firm with Meri. We know our own daughter.”

  “I’ll go.” Nolan stood up and gestured at the three Davieses. “Jillian will make you comfortable, I’m sure.”

  She nodded her blanched face.

  Nolan took his car straight to the Inn. As he suspected, Meri’s car was missing from its parking spot.

  Leo stuck his head out of his workshop. “You looking for Meri?”

  “Yep.”

  “She slammed in the house, came right back out with her keys, and got in her car.”

  “No bags?”

  “Nope.”

  That at least was something. “Did you ask where she was going?”

  “Tried to. She muttered something about having dug herself a deep, deep hole so she might as well go get in one.”

  “Thanks, Leo.”

  “For what?”

  “Tell Nia she probably shouldn’t expect Meri back today.”

  “What’s going on, Nolan?”

  “It’s Meri’s story to tell.” Nolan backed out of the parking lot and turned out on the street and headed west.

  “Once upon a time even my brother liked exploring mine country. The tunnels were his thing.”

  Meri ran from her family to the place where she last had a happy vacation with them. As angry as she was with Canny, giving him an elbow in the gut wasn’t what she was after. Not ultimately.

  The old highway took Nolan out to the mine, where Tony Rizzo was the current owner of the business giving tours. Nolan plopped a twenty-dollar bill on the counter beside the cash register and glanced up at the clock on the wall.

  “Tour just started?” he said to Tony’s daughter-in-law.

  “Twelve minutes ago. You know we don’t let anyone in late.”

  “Young African American woman, slender, black glasses?”

  “Yeah. She bought the last ticket.”

  “No. I just bought the last ticket.” Nolan slid the twenty across the counter and hustled out of the building and across the parking lot toward the tour entrance.