by Amy Reade
“If that would make you feel better, then just go do it. But your mother agrees with Harlan, and I’m not sure you want to start a full-scale family war.”
“I definitely don’t, but Daddy has to be made aware that not everyone agrees with Harlan and Mother. And I think Phyllis heard Harlan; that’s why she dropped that tray. She was that surprised. Can you imagine? If someone suggested tearing down your family’s old home to make room for a store? She must be beside herself.”
“I’m sure you’re right. She’s talked to me about those cabins and she doesn’t want to see anything happen to them. Sarah is against it, too.”
Evie smiled for the first time in hours. “Sarah.” She shook her head. “Phyllis listens a little too much to Sarah, if you ask me. But I agree with them both in this case.”
“What do you think about having them restored?”
“Now that might be a good idea,” she conceded. “I think I can understand why Phyllis doesn’t want them restored, but if this property ever was to be used for teaching, restored slave cabins would be a great learning opportunity. We certainly couldn’t show them to anybody in their present condition. Do you think you could do it?”
“I know I could. And I’d love to do it if I could talk Phyllis into the idea and if your father agrees. But I don’t want to force him to make a decision, especially since he’s the one who signs my paychecks. I’ve got enough to keep me busy around here without adding more work at this point.”
“I’ll talk to him in private. I hate to go behind Mother’s back, but for some reason she just can’t see that Harlan’s idea is a bad one.”
“Has anyone asked Ruby what she thinks?”
Evie looked surprised. “I don’t think so. I assume she’s left the decision-making to Daddy.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t say anything.
The next day flew by. Graydon helped me move the heavy dining room furniture and I was able to sand the bare half of the floor. I was anxious to get cleaned up and pick up Lucy from school. Brad had called me after dropping her off that morning, just to let me know that all her overnight things and books and games were in the office of the school and that he was headed back to Chicago.
When I picked up Lucy that afternoon, she raced into my arms and hugged me for a full minute before letting go and agreeing to get into the car. She chattered all the way back to Peppernell Manor about the fun she had had with Brad. For all his faults, it sounded like he had been a model father while he visited. He took her to fancy restaurants, to family restaurants, to parks and playgrounds, to a movie one evening, and even to a place where she got her first manicure. When we got out of the car she splayed her fingers for me to examine her bright pink little nails. Then she ran into the house in search of Ruby and Evie so she could show them, too. I was thrilled to have her back, even with the uncertainties hanging over us in the manor.
Right before dinner that evening Heath walked in. Lucy raced to see him, show him her nails, and tell him all about the things she did while she was in Charleston. He acted suitably impressed, then turned to me and asked quietly, “Did you give any thought to taking a horseback ride this evening? We could go right after dinner before it gets dark out.”
I grimaced. “I don’t know, Heath. She’s so small.”
“What better time to introduce her to horses, when she’s too small to be afraid of riding them?”
I smiled. “Oh, all right. But I’m no expert on horseback riding, so I think you’d better let her ride with you. Your horse is gentle, right?”
“Of course. All of our horses are gentle. We’ll find you a good one, too.”
So after dinner Heath and I and Lucy drove my car over to the stables we had visited on our first day at Peppernell Manor.
“Lucy, how about you and I ride Indigo?” asked Heath.
“Which one is that?”
Heath pointed to a huge horse, dark brown, munching on some hay in a roomy stall. Lucy looked up at Indigo with wide eyes.
“Okay. Can I pet him?”
“Sure.” Heath hoisted her up and showed her where to put her hand to rub the horse’s strong neck. She stroked the beast gently and beamed.
Heath looked into the stall adjoining Indigo. “This is Chuck. I think he’ll be perfect for you, Carleigh.”
I looked dubiously at the animal. He was positively gigantic up close. “Mama, I want to pet him, too,” Lucy informed me.
Heath picked her up again and she carefully rubbed Chuck’s neck. He didn’t seem to mind.
“So how does this go?” I wondered aloud, thinking I would never be able to get up onto Chuck’s back.
“Just a minute while I saddle him up,” Heath said.
He walked over to where a saddle hung on the wall and slung it over his shoulder. It looked heavy. It took him a few minutes to get it on the horse. When he finished, he pulled a stepladder over to where the horse stood patiently. He indicated to me that I should climb up the stepladder. I did, a little tentatively, and swung my leg over Chuck’s back when I was at the top. I grinned at Lucy and Heath as I sat there, feeling like I was on top of the world. Heath handed me the reins and gave me a very brief lesson on how to use them to get Chuck to move. I fervently hoped that Chuck knew what he was doing.
Next I watched as Heath put Lucy on top of Indigo and then jumped up himself in back of her.
“Why no saddle?” I asked.
“With two people, it’s easier for me to ride without a saddle. And Indigo’s used to it.” Lucy clapped her hands, then decided she better hang on. She clutched Indigo’s long mane. I worried that her hands might hurt and spook the horse, but Heath assured me that it was okay.
We rode slowly out of the stable and into the field just outside the door. I had a hard time figuring out how to use the reins to get Chuck to do exactly what I wanted, but I found that he was perfectly content to follow Indigo if I just left him alone. The two horses walked side by side as the three of us looked around at the twilight colors of the field. Lucy squealed with delight every time Indigo whinnied. I was glad Heath had talked me into letting her go riding. The horses skirted a small grove of trees and kept walking. After a half hour we turned around to head back to the stable. It was getting close to Lucy’s bedtime, and I was anxious to get her back into the routine we had enjoyed before her visit with Brad.
We all dismounted with only one minor injury—my pride. As I was trying to gracefully descend from Chuck’s back, I misjudged the distance to the ground and ended up on my backside on the stone floor of the stable. Heath ran over to where I sat on the ground.
“Carleigh! Are you all right?”
And Lucy, in chorus, shouted, “Mama!”
I smiled ruefully and stood up slowly. “I’m fine. Just very embarrassed.” I rubbed my hand where I had hit it trying to stop my fall. Lucy ran over and kissed it, pronouncing that it was now “all better.” I tousled her hair and thanked her.
To Heath I said, “Please let’s never discuss this.”
He laughed and asked, “Discuss what?”
I nodded and winked and then, taking Lucy’s hand, followed him out of the stable. Back at the manor, we thanked Heath for taking us out with the horses and headed inside. As we entered the manor, Heath called me back for a second.
“Would you like to come over to the carriage house for a drink after Lucy goes to bed?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want anything to do with men. But I liked Heath. Was this like a date? As the seconds ticked by and the panic started to swirl around in my head, he must have wondered why it was taking me so long to answer him.
I was just about to decline politely when suddenly I heard myself accepting his invitation. He smiled and turned to go. “See you in a bit.”
What was I thinking? I’m over men! But I found myself looking forward to seeing him after Lucy was asleep.
I knocked on Evie’s door before leaving. “Would you mind watching Lucy for a little
while?”
“Sure. Where are you going?”
“Just outdoors for a bit.”
“No problem.”
I wandered through the soft night air, heavy with the scent of jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle, to Heath’s carriage house. I knocked on the front door, suddenly feeling shy. He answered the door and led me to the small patio behind the house. We sat at an uncomfortable set of wrought iron chairs and a small, round table. He had placed a tray on the table with two glasses and a pitcher of something icy.
“Do you like gin and tonic?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
“I like it when it’s warm out like this.” He seemed as nervous as I felt.
I nodded.
“What did Lucy think of horseback riding?” This was a safe enough topic.
“She loved it. She wants to be an equestrienne now,” I answered with a laugh.
“If she really wants to do that, then she’s starting out good and early.”
The conversation stalled for a moment as we sipped our drinks.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I told him.
“You mean out here on the patio?”
“Yes. I didn’t even know the patio was here. It’s hidden by the garden walls.” Honeysuckle vines and Confederate jasmine climbed the brick walls that surrounded the patio on three sides.
“I like to garden. Those vines took a few seasons to train, but they’re growing well now. They require a little bit of upkeep, but I like the way they look. I’ve got some rosebushes over here,” he said, standing up and walking over to a corner of the patio. “There are some gardenias, too.”
He stopped talking.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” I answered slowly. “What was it?”
From the other side of the patio wall came a sound like a low growl. Heath crouched down, peering under the bushes that grew along the wall.
He turned to me and said quietly, “There’s a dog under there. I think he’s scared.
“Come here, boy,” he said, holding out his hand.
No sound, no movement.
“I’ve got an idea,” he said softly. He stood up slowly. “I’m going to run in the house and get some meat. That ought to get him out of the bushes.”
I could see light reflected in the dog’s eyes under the shrubs. He and I watched each other warily while Heath went into the kitchen. In the dim light from the patio lights, he looked like a cross between a golden retriever and an Irish setter. Heath came back carrying a large bowl of water and a crinkly plastic bag from the deli.
“All I have is salami, but that should work.” He placed the bowl of water on the patio stones and set a slice of salami on the ground next to it. He motioned me back to the table.
“Let’s see if he’ll come out of there,” he whispered.
As we watched, the dog cautiously poked his head from around the patio wall and eyed the food and water. He looked at us, then back to the meal again, apparently unsure of the situation. After several seconds of indecision, he walked slowly over to the water and salami. He wolfed down the meat—inhaled, actually—and then set about slurping the water. He looked at us eagerly, obviously waiting for seconds.
“He acts like he hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in ages,” I commented.
Heath pointed to the dog’s fur, which seemed to be hanging from his bony frame. “I don’t think he has.” The dog’s fur, the color of ginger, was long and matted, but I could tell he would be beautiful with a bath and a brush.
“Poor thing.”
The dog pushed against Heath’s hand with his muzzle. Heath stroked its head and ears. “Where’d you come from, boy?” he asked, as if expecting an answer.
“He doesn’t have a collar. Maybe he’s a stray.”
Heath put down more salami next to the water. The dog ate the food quickly, then curled up on a patch of grass near the base of the gardenia bushes and lay his head down on his front paws. He looked content.
“I wonder if he’ll be there in the morning,” Heath commented.
“You’ll have to let us know,” I answered. “Maybe you’ve found yourself a pet.”
“Maybe a pet found me,” he replied with a smile.
Heath walked me back to the main house. At the door, I thanked him for inviting me for a drink and he smiled broadly. “We’ll have to do it again,” he said.
I went inside with a smile on my face. That wasn’t bad at all.
The next morning I was in the kitchen when Heath appeared in the doorway. “The dog stayed under that shrub all night,” he told me. “I’ve been working on the patio this morning and he hasn’t left my side. He’s a real friendly guy.”
“Do you think it would be all right if I took Lucy to see him?”
“Of course! That’s why I came over here. To see if you wanted to come to my place and bring Lucy.”
I smiled. Lucy would love the dog. I ran upstairs to get her and together the three of us walked outside. To my surprise, the dog was waiting for us by the back door of the manor. He turned and took several long, loping strides toward Heath’s home before looking over his shoulder to make sure we were following him.
“Doggie!” yelled Lucy, running to pet him.
“Wait, Lucy!” I called to her. “We always walk up to a dog slowly. And let Heath go with you.”
She slowed down long enough for Heath to take her hand, and the two of them approached the dog slowly as he stood waiting for us to catch up with him. Lucy touched his back very gently, mimicking Heath’s movements, and the dog licked her face. She giggled uncontrollably, making me and Heath laugh out loud.
“I’m going to take him to the farm’s vet this morning,” Heath told us. “I’m also going to call the SPCA and the newspaper and the other vet offices to see if he’s missing from someone’s family. He seems pretty happy to be here, though. If I can’t find an owner for him, maybe I’ll keep him.”
After Lucy had played with the dog for a little while on Heath’s patio, I took her into Charleston for school. When I returned to the manor to work I started trying to remove some of the wallpaper in the ballroom. It was dirty work and I was filthy by the time I needed to pick Lucy up from school. But I was excited to have started in the ballroom. It was huge and beautiful, even in its careworn state. This room, too, was going to be a vibrant hue when it was done and I hoped the family liked the color Cora-Camille had chosen, a deep peacock-blue.
When Lucy and I turned into the Peppernell Manor drive that afternoon, we followed Heath in his pickup truck right up to the house. Through the back window of his truck we could see a second head, with floppy ears, looking out at us.
“Look, Lucy,” I said excitedly, “Heath has the doggie in his truck!”
When Heath pulled to a stop, he jumped out of the cab and the dog followed, tail wagging, his long ginger fur shining and lustrous.
“He’s a she,” Heath told me, laughing. “And I haven’t been able to find anyone missing a dog of her description, so I think I’m going to keep her. If she’ll stay. She’s already enjoyed her first bath.”
“She’s gorgeous!”
“Isn’t she?” Heath looked at the dog with affection, then looked at Lucy. “What should we name her?”
“Hmmm,” Lucy said, her expression turning serious as she put her finger to her chin. “Let me think.” Heath winked at me and said to her, “You take your time and come up with a really good name, okay?”
“Okay.”
He whistled for the dog to follow him as Lucy and I went inside for a snack. Over apple slices and a glass of milk, Lucy suddenly looked at me and said, “Addie.”
“What?”
“Addie.”
“What’s Addie?”
“The doggie.”
“What a nice name for a dog!” I praised her. “I think Heath will like that name.”
He did. “Addie it is, then. She’ll love it,” he told Lucy with a smile at dinner that evening.<
br />
“I know,” she replied happily.
I let her play outside with Addie after dinner. Heath watched the two of them on his patio. Addie loved playing with her new friend, and when I went to get Lucy for a bath, the two of them were rolling together on the grass, Addie barking and Lucy giggling uncontrollably.
Heath smiled when he saw me. “These two are already best friends,” he said.
“It sure looks that way,” I answered with a grin.
I took Lucy back to the manor for a bath and saw Phyllis beckoning me from the kitchen doorway.
“Carleigh, we need to talk about something.”
I turned to Lucy. “You go wait for me upstairs. I’ll be up in a jiffy.”
She nodded and hurried up the stairs.
“What is it, Phyllis?”
“It’s about that dog,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Addie?”
“You’ve named it?”
“It’s a she.”
“Stray dogs are bad luck. Sarah has always said so. Even the slaves who lived here a hundred and sixty years ago knew that. Stray dogs bring nothing but bad luck to the people who take them in.”
“But Addie needed a home. And she hasn’t brought any bad luck. In fact, she’s brought only good things. Heath and Lucy love her already. I’m very fond of her, too.”
“You mark my words. Bad things will come to Peppernell Manor because of that dog.”
“I think that’s just a superstition, Phyllis.”
She looked at me darkly. “You just wait and see,” she warned, then returned to her work in the kitchen.
I went upstairs to give Lucy her bath. I was becoming frustrated with Phyllis and Sarah and their opinions. Addie had brought nothing but happiness in her short time at Peppernell Manor, and I couldn’t imagine anyone believing that such a sweet dog could bring bad luck to anyone.
CHAPTER 10
I spent the next day completing the work on the dining room floor. Its surface gleamed in the soft light coming in from the tall windows. That floor might have been lovely when it was brand-new back in the 1800s, but now, with its long history of manor families and visitors peopling the room through the years, of parties and funerals and dinners, of debates over the issues of slavery and Reconstruction and Southern survival and dying farms, it was somehow even more beautiful.
