“You had already married and married well, I might add. Grandpa owed you nothing. He wasn’t in this world to cover the cost of your life-style. How can you be so cold and calculating in this? Your father is dying. His last wish was to have you and Aunt Lavelle come and see him, and all you can think about is whether there is some trinket or bauble you might sell. What a sad thing. What a very sad person you’ve become.”
“I demand you be silent! You have no right to speak to me like this. You’re a hateful woman, just as you were eleven years ago. I’m glad I took matters into my own hands when the truth came out.”
Ashley looked at her mother’s reddened face and the ugly scowl fixed on her expression. “What are you talking about?”
“Your husband.”
Ashley felt her heart skip a beat. For a moment she wasn’t sure she could draw enough breath to reply. “What about him?”
“He’s alive. At least he was in the summer of 1919.” Her mother smiled smugly. “But I told him you were dead. Told him you’d died in the epidemic.”
Ashley gasped for air. “I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, you should. He showed up all scarred and ugly from war. He was never much to look at before, but now he was less to look at. Apparently he’d had a good portion of his face blown away.”
Her mother shook her head and smiled. “I couldn’t see you wanting him after that. Besides, as far as I was concerned, you were dead to me.”
Ashley felt the truth of it sink in. Her mother wasn’t lying—she was taking far too much satisfaction from this for it to be a lie. “He’s alive?”
“I’m sure I cannot say. I certainly did nothing to keep tabs on him. I sent him packing, as you should have done in the beginning.”
Ashley carefully gathered up her things and systematically put them into her sewing box. Getting to her feet, she stood trembling. “I was trying hard to do what Grandpa had suggested and forgive you for your cruelty and vicious nature.” She stared at her mother’s self-satisfied expression and wanted nothing more than to banish her from the house, but for Grandpa’s sake she would let her stay. “But I’ll never forgive you for this.”
She walked to the arched doorway and turned.
“So long as you do nothing to cause harm to Natalie or Grandpa, you may stay here. But—”she paused to draw a deep breath—“do even one thing—one thing, Mother—to hurt either of them as you’ve hurt me, and you will rue the day you came to Winslow.”
Ashley walked to the stairs in a methodical, mechanical manner. She climbed and with each step the words reverberated in her brain.
Ethan’s alive.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
News of the stock market crash in New York trickled in with the passing of each new train. E. J. listened to the comments of railroad officials as they spoke with Mary Colter about their thoughts on the matter.
“This is a passing problem,” one man assured Mary as they moved out to the depot platform, where everyone but E. J. expected to catch the awaiting westbound train.
“The railroad is secure. We’ll weather the storm,” another man added. “We made some very good business decisions months ago, and it leaves us in good stead, unlike some of the other lines. We’ll ride out this problem as we have every other storm.”
“So you do not see this creating a problem for the hotel we’re building?” Miss Colter questioned.
Her gaze scrutinized each man at length. E. J. almost believed the woman to be capable of reading minds for the truth. The thought made him smile, but he quickly lowered his face so that no one would believe him less than serious about the situation.
“No, I don’t think there is anything to worry about. We’ve invested heavily in this hotel. Plans are even set in motion to move the present Harvey House next door. It will have to be plastered and covered in stucco to match the décor, of course. McKee Construction Company assures me that this can be done with relative ease. Not only that, Miss Colter, they assure me the hotel will be completed on schedule. They still give December 15 as the completion date, despite this stock market nonsense.”
“Good,” Mary said, then turned to E. J. “I want you to make sure those northern balconies are properly fitted with the wrought-iron rails. Remember the problems we had on the west side? See that we aren’t repeating history.”
E. J. nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
The conductor called for final boarding, and E. J. bid the trio good-bye. He turned to go back to work, relieved to be left behind. The business dealings were of very little interest to him. In fact, since sitting down to sketch out the house he’d promised to build Ashley, E. J. knew his desire lay in creating. He wanted to become more heavily involved in design work—in the actual laying out of plans. That wasn’t something he was likely to get a hand at working with Miss Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter. Miss Colter let no one come between her and her creations. The intelligence, creativity, and drive of the woman was positively daunting, but she operated much like a one-man band. Oh, she had workers and assistants. She had “her boys,” but she was the queen of her kingdom and that left little room for E. J.’s own creativity. Perhaps this would be the last time he worked for Mary Colter—perhaps he’d remain in Winslow and develop his own company, a company he could pass on to his daughter.
E. J. had nearly reached the Harvey hotel building site when he heard Natalie calling his name. She crossed Second Street with only the briefest pause, then hurried to where he stood. Across the street, a man rather stocky in build paused for a moment, as if watching Natalie and E. J. There was something familiar about the man, but his hat was pulled low and it was impossible to see his face. E. J. wondered what the man wanted and thought to hail him over, but as if realizing he was being watched, the man darted away, leaving E. J. feeling rather uncomfortable.
“I’m glad you stopped by. I have something for you,” E. J. told Natalie. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rolled-up drawing. “I did this from the drawing you gave me.”
Natalie put her book satchel down on a nearby rock and took the drawing from E. J. She unrolled it carefully, as though she’d been given a great treasure map. “Oh, it’s wonderful. It’s even better than the one my mama has.”
E. J. smiled. He’d embellished a few things here and there. Things he thought might work better than the original plan. Things he and Ashley had considered changing after the original drawing was made. “Do you like it?”
“I do, very much,” Natalie admitted. “I’m going to keep this in a special place.”
“I don’t think you should show your mama just yet. Since your daddy drew the last picture, we wouldn’t want to make her sad.”
Natalie nodded in complete agreement. “Grandmother is making her sad enough. I wouldn’t want to make Mama cry again.”
“Your grandma made your mama cry?” E. J. felt a tightening in his gut. He knew how very destructive Leticia Murphy could be. After all, she was the one who had told him Ashley was dead to begin with.
“My grandmother isn’t being very nice,” Natalie said, frowning. “I don’t know why. She talks real mean sometimes and it hurts my mama’s feelings. Mama’s sharing my room ’cause she gave her room to Grandmother. Mama doesn’t know I heard her crying last night. She thought I was asleep. I heard her say something about never forgiving Grandmother for what she’d done. I don’t know what Grandmother did, ’cause Aunt Lavelle and I took a walk, and I think whatever she did happened while we were gone.”
E. J. chilled in the afternoon air. What had Leticia done to Ashley? Had she confessed the fact that she’d lied when Ashley’s husband came home from the war? The thought left him cold through and through. He had to find a way to let Ashley know the truth. This had gone on entirely too long, and if Leticia was the one to break the news, it would make Ashley believe he no longer loved her—that he hadn’t even cared to look for her. But maybe if Leticia had told Ashley of his showing up that day in 1919, she would also confess to telling h
im that Ashley was dead.
“I have to get home. Mama wants me to help her with supper. I sure wish I could invite you to come, but Mama said it was best not to have extra guests right now.”
“And she’s absolutely right,” E. J. said. “Your mother has a great deal on her mind and an entire household of people to care for. I’m sure we’ll have time to share supper in the future.”
Natalie tucked the drawing into her skirt pocket and skipped away. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.
She was gone from sight before E. J. realized her books still sat on the rock at his feet. He picked the satchel up and quickly crossed the street and headed down the sidewalk in the direction of Natalie’s house when he noted the same stocky man from before—only this time he appeared to be slinking along in the shadows. E. J. couldn’t tell if the man was watching Natalie or himself. He thought to call to the man, but just then Natalie came running from the opposite direction. When she saw E. J. she called out.
“I forgot my books!”
He smiled nervously and held up the satchel. “I know. I thought I’d bring it to you.”
When he glanced over his shoulder to see if the stranger was still there, he found only an empty place in the doorway where the man had hidden himself only moments before. E. J. felt a sickening dread in the pit of his belly. It was like being stalked by the enemy, only this was an enemy he didn’t know or recognize.
Worse still, what if the man had no interest in E. J. at all but rather was stalking Natalie?
“Natalie, it might not be a good idea to come by the hotel tomorrow. In fact, you might give it a few days before you do. There are some difficult jobs to be done and you might get hurt.”
She looked hurt—disappointed in his obvious rejection. “You don’t want to see me?”
“It isn’t that, sweetheart,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t take his words so personally. “It’s just that some dangerous things will be going on. It would just about break my heart if you were to get hurt.”
She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll wait until Saturday and come with my mama.”
He nodded. “That would be just fine.”
She took off again, while E. J. studied every doorway and shadowed corner. The man was nowhere to be found. He struggled to think who the man might be. There was something familiar about him, but E. J. hadn’t been able to get a good look.
“God, please protect her,” he prayed aloud. “Don’t let harm come to my child or my wife.”
****
Russell had refused to take any medicine that morning. The pain was excruciating but no more so than the burden he had for his eldest child. “Letty, I’m glad you came to see me. There are some things we need to set straight between us.”
“Oh, I certainly agree. This whole nonsense of having given Ashley the house and furnishings is ridiculous. I’ll have my lawyer on the case before—”
“Letty, my lawyer has already seen to the transfer. There is nothing for you here.” He spoke with a deep pleading in his tone. “Please don’t make yourself any more unwelcome than you already are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Russell reached out to take hold of her hand, but Leticia pulled away. “Letty, you’ve made yourself unwelcome in the way you treat people. All your life you’ve hurt folks and made them feel unimportant. That’s not the way you should treat people—especially family. Especially your own child.”
Leticia scowled. “You are a foolish man, and I have no intention of letting you ruin my life the way you’ve ruined your own. This has nothing to do with Ashley. It’s only sensible and reasonable that you should settle your estate on your children.”
“Which I did nearly twelve years ago. I told you then that I would yield and give you what you demanded.” He paused and gasped for breath against the pain. His tone took on a gravelly sound as he continued. “You never could see that the most important, most valued thing I had to give you was my love and the knowledge of what God had done in my life.”
“Nonsense!” Her eyes narrowed, and the hateful look on her face made Russell actually cringe. “Love doesn’t put food on the table or furniture in the parlor. It doesn’t buy the pleasures of life or pay for the problems of it. You may believe whatever you choose, but when your beliefs infringe upon my comfort, then it’s time for me to look out for myself. You made choices that changed my life. That was unfair.”
“Letty, you were a grown woman with a husband. A wealthy husband, I might point out. I was under no obligation to continue supporting your expensive dreams.”
“Humph, and you talk of love. Wouldn’t a loving parent desire for his child to have a better life than he had? Wouldn’t a parent want to see his child content, comfortable, and well cared for?”
“I might ask you the same thing in regard to Ashley. She’s happy here. This has been her home since before she gave birth to Natalie. Now you suggest I take that away from her. Is that love? Or is that simply your way of making clear what everyone knows—that you don’t love your own daughter?”
“My daughter stopped loving me the day she went behind my back and married that no-account art student.”
“He was an architectural student—soon to be employed by a well-known firm, as I recall Ashley telling me.”
Leticia lifted her chin, a habit of defiance Russell had dealt with since she was an infant. “That doesn’t make what she did right.”
“No. No, it doesn’t and I’ve even told Ashley that. She should have found a better way to deal with you and the problems she felt she had at home.”
Leticia looked at her father in disbelief, then quickly masked her surprise. “Well, it’s of little matter now. As far as I’m concerned, she made her bed and I owe her nothing.”
“Just as I feel you’ve made your bed, Letty. You insisted on your inheritance long ago, and you received it. I owe you nothing. Fight me if you must, but you won’t win. Ashley is well-known and loved in this town—Natalie too. If you bring in your lawyers and fuss about, you’ll only cause yourself grief.”
“People are always causing me grief. I must fight for what is mine, although I don’t expect you to understand. Yes, I have wealth, but I learned a long time ago the only way to keep that wealth growing is to amass more. I’ve grown wiser through the years.”
“I don’t see greed and wisdom as the same thing,” Russell replied.
Letty’s eyes seemed to blaze with a fire all their own. “Call me what you will. Call me greedy—I don’t care. The one thing I’ve learned, the wisdom that has kept me stable when others around me were floundering, is that I must put myself first. I can be of no use to my children or anyone else if I don’t take care of myself.”
“And has taking care of yourself in turn caused you to be more generous with your children?”
Leticia squared her shoulders. “I’ve taught them to be self-sufficient.”
Russell shook his head. “Something I should have taught you a long time ago. Letty, I’ve tried to teach you the important things of life, but they’ve eluded you. You are selfish and greedy. I honestly thought that your reaction all those years ago was due to fear—fear of the money you would lose—fear that you might have to change your life-style.” He gasped for air and closed his eyes momentarily. God, give me strength. I have to try to make her see. He opened his eyes slowly.
“Letty, the people in your life are far more important. You can always make more money. Even if you lose it all, you can find a way to make more.”
“It didn’t work that way for you. You live in poverty here,” Leticia replied snidely.
“I made as much as I wanted to make,” Russell replied. “We didn’t need a great deal of money to be happy. We had one another.”
Leticia’s expression fell momentarily and she looked away. Russell felt sorry for her and tried to reach out to her. She would have no part of that, though, and crossed her arms tight against her chest.
“Ha
ppiness, Letty . . . true happiness isn’t found on the pages of a bank ledger or in the number of jewels you can call your own. Possessions are temporary and never last.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.” She eyed him with contempt. “You’re only saying this hoping that I’ll change my mind. Well, I won’t. I intend to have what belongs to me.”
Russell gave up. “You may not recall it, but you and your husband both signed certain legal documents when I gave you your inheritance.”
Leticia frowned. “What documents? I don’t remember any such thing.”
Russell eyed her seriously. “I had papers drawn up that you signed in order to receive your bank drafts. You agreed to take your inheritance at that time and seek no further compensation from me.”
“I recall nothing of the kind.”
“Go see my lawyer, then. He has a copy of the agreement you signed, as well as a copy of your sister’s. You should also reread the clause that states that should you seek to benefit from any additional part of my future estate, you will forfeit the original agreement—and all monies and articles given to you as inheritance, which are also listed there, will be returned within thirty days of the condition being broken.”
Leticia gasped. “I . . . I would never have signed such an agreement.”
Russell knew she would take such an attitude. He had expected it twelve years earlier and he expected it now. “You did sign it. In fact, you had your lawyer go over the paper and agree to the terms. Letty, it’s finished. You need to let go of this madness that you can somehow milk another dime or dollar from me. What I have accumulated since then has gone to Ashley and Natalie. Try to take it from them, and my lawyer will see you fulfill the requirements of a forfeited contract.”
“You conniving old man! I . . . well . . . I will see to it . . .” Her words trailed off in sputters and gasps as if she were a fish out of water.
“Letty, there is one thing I want to share with you.” His voice sounded firm and clear. Russell silently thanked God for strength and now prayed for the words to share his heart.
[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years Page 19
