“If you kept your place in Atlanta, what would you do with the house?”
It was a good question. It was an old house, and Kate knew it needed constant care and attention. If she wasn’t living in it, someone needed to be, or she felt it would quickly fall into disrepair. Leslie would probably jump at the chance to live in the house, but Kate wasn’t sure Leslie would feel comfortable functioning as her renter. Aside from that, if Aunt Mary had wanted Leslie to live in the house, she would have just left the house to Leslie.
“I don’t know,” Kate finally answered. “It needs someone to take care of it, I know that much.”
He nodded in understanding. “Would it matter if I told you I didn’t want you to go back to Atlanta?”
She smiled. “It might influence my decision. What about you though? Could you work here forever, do you think? It’s a small town for the kind of work you do, isn’t it?”
“Rose Creek isn’t exactly a hotbed of up-and-coming architecture, that’s for sure. I think there is a lot that could happen here though. I’ve mostly done commercial work in the past, but I’d love to design homes that really feel like they belong in the mountains and use natural materials that blend in with the surroundings. And we’re so centrally located here—close to Asheville and Atlanta—that if I build a name for myself, I may be able to field work from there as well.”
“Why weren’t you working on all of this before?” she asked. “It seems like you’ve just been twiddling your thumbs working with your uncle.”
Andrew looked up, eyes steady. “Well, it’s only recently that I considered the possibility of staying in Rose Creek on a more long-term basis.”
Kate knew he was making reference to her. Of course he wouldn’t be putting down roots and establishing his career if he thought his stay in Rose Creek was only temporary.
Kate looked up when she heard an approaching car and saw headlights streaming in through the soft linen curtains hanging in the kitchen window. It was Leslie. Kate had called her earlier in the day and invited her to come over to see the journal and read over the petition. She heard the chatter of voices as doors slammed and little feet climbed the porch steps. Kate smiled. “Would you like to meet my niece and nephews?” she said to Andrew.
They moved to the door to welcome the children as they tumbled into the foyer. Kate greeted Leslie with a quick, one-armed hug.
“Andrew, you remember Leslie,” she said politely. “And this is Nicholas, Emily, and Tommy.”
Andrew greeted each of the boys then crouched down in front of Emily. “Hello, Emily, I’m Andrew.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Andrew,” Emily said, in line with her typical precociousness. “Are you going to marry my aunt Katie?”
Kate’s cheeks flooded with color.
“Emily!” Leslie chided. “Don’t ask such questions to someone you’ve just met.”
Andrew smiled. “It’s all right,” he said to Leslie. “I don’t mind.” He leaned in and whispered something in Emily’s ear, making the little girl giggle, eyes growing wide as she listened. “It’s our secret, okay?” He stood up, smiling at Kate and then Leslie.
Emily, high on the importance of knowing a secret, walked smugly past her mother and aunt, nose held high in the air. “I’ll never tell,” she said.
“I’ve got to be going now,” Andrew said, attention turned back to Kate. “I want to get started on typing up the final survey while it’s all still fresh in my mind.”
“Thank you,” Kate said simply. “I couldn’t have done this without your help.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Andrew said. “This old house has quite a history. It would be a shame to see something happen to it.”
He crossed the foyer to where Kate was standing, a bit shy in Leslie’s presence, and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’ll call you in the morning,” he whispered. “It was nice to see you again, Leslie.”
“Likewise,” Leslie said. When he was gone, she looked at her cousin, eyes wide with disbelief.
Chapter 29
“What?” Kate asked.
“He’s totally in love with you,” Leslie said as they walked back into the kitchen. “I mean, I’ve seen you guys together before tonight, but something’s different. The way he looked at you, the way he . . . Something has changed. What about you? How do you feel?”
Kate shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I don’t know,” she struggled. “I mean, he’s . . . I guess I really feel . . .”
“Spit it out, Kate.” Leslie stood at the kitchen sink, one hand on her hip, waiting for Kate to respond.
“Well, it just sounds so stupid to say it after such a short period of time,” Kate said.
“You love him!”
Kate looked at her cousin. She hoped Leslie could be happy for her. It was, after all, still an emotional time for the family. But she did love him. She knew that and didn’t want to hide it from her cousin.
“What are you thinking?” Kate asked Leslie.
Leslie sighed. “I think it seems really fast, but he’s a likable guy . . . He has a great smile. If you like him, I can like him too, I guess. I guess the only downside is his religion.”
Kate flinched at Leslie’s words. “I want to show you something,” she said, changing the subject.
She took Leslie into the family room and pulled out Ian’s journal and the stacks of photocopies she’d made earlier in the day at the library. She quickly explained the journal to Leslie, detailing a rough outline of the Wylie family history from Ian down to their grandfather George. Leslie listened as Kate turned through the pages of the journal, pointing out certain entries and adding her own insight about what she thought Ian might have been like. She was excited, talking quickly, her eyes bright and face flushed with enthusiasm. The only thing Kate didn’t share was Ian’s strong beliefs regarding religion. It was a dangerous subject and one she thought was simply better avoided.
“You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?” Leslie asked, voice sounding a bit incredulous.
Kate was confused at Leslie’s reaction. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, I guess it’s neat to have found something from so long ago still preserved and everything, but . . . I don’t know. What does it really matter now? The guy is still dead.”
“But that’s just it,” Kate said. “He’s dead, but we can still learn from his life and his experiences. Aunt Mary is dead, but we want to keep things that remind us of her to help us remember her life and the things she taught us.”
“That’s different,” Leslie said. “I knew my mother, loved my mother every day. I’ve never met this Ian Wylie. Don’t get me wrong, Kate. It’s great that you found his old journal and that it may help you keep the house, but from the way you were talking about it, it just seemed like you think it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen.”
Kate looked at the book reverently. It sort of was the greatest thing she’d ever seen. Kate felt like she knew Ian—and he knew her, watched over her. To have his words about love and family and religion, as well as the details of daily life in a time so different from her own, was something she truly cherished. She was a little miffed at Leslie’s underwhelming response. She thought suddenly of what might have happened had Leslie inherited the house as she had expected. What if Leslie had found the old journal in the attic? Would she have even read it? Would she have worked so diligently at decoding some of the harder-to-read passages? Would she have even cared?
It needed to be me, Kate thought. I had to be the one to find it. She sighed and gently laid the book aside.
Leslie and the children stayed for nearly two hours. Leslie contributed as best she could, despite the distraction of her kids. She had always had a good head for grammar and helped Kate revise and reword sentences and phrases that needed polishing in the summary. Of all the information included in the petition, Kate thought her case was most strengthened by the story of Ike Wylie. Kate wished she had a way to quantify his gene
rosity. Surely there were others still living in the community—descendants of those who, like Angus McFinley’s father, had farmed and rented on her great-grandfather’s land. Kate also hoped the journal would appear impressive to the board, though she was a bit discouraged that Leslie had not reacted with an enthusiasm that matched her own. All she could do was hope that someone on the board of commissioners had an appreciation for family history and might be sympathetic to her cause.
Before Leslie left, Kate went into the family room to spend a few minutes visiting with the kids. She gathered up their popcorn bowls and empty juice boxes to take them to the kitchen but paused just outside the door. Leslie was on her cell phone.
“It’s funny, really,” she heard Leslie say. “It’s like she’s playing dress up . . . playing with the kids, walking around the house like she owns the place. It’s just not the real Kate, you know?”
Kate backed into the shadows of the dining room, not wanting Leslie to see her. She wondered who Leslie was talking to.
“I just don’t believe she’ll really stay,” Leslie continued. “I’m glad she’s stayed this long. I never could have figured out how to save the house without her. But once all the excitement dies down, something will happen, and then she’ll bolt, just like she did before. You just watch. She’ll sell me the house. It’ll be mine by the end of the summer.”
The bowls in Kate’s hands started to slip. She tried to catch them, but they clamored to the floor, alerting Leslie to her presence. Kate’s cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment as she scrambled to pick up the bowls. She couldn’t believe Leslie’s comments. When she’d picked up the dishes she’d dropped, she walked into the kitchen, slamming the bowls into the sink.
“What’s wrong with you?” Leslie asked, not aware of how much Kate had overheard.
Kate braced her arms against the side of the sink. “Is that really what you think of me, Leslie? That I’m pretending? That this is all just a big game to me?”
Leslie’s face froze. “You were listening in on my conversation?” she asked.
“Not on purpose,” Kate fired back. “I was just coming into the kitchen. I stopped as soon I heard what you were saying. Leslie, why would say those things about me? Is that really how you feel?”
Leslie was silent, her arms folded across her chest.
Kate shook her head. “I’ve been so honest with you. I’ve tried so hard to make our relationship what it was before.”
“It can’t be what it was before, Kate! We’re grown-ups now. We have a decade of life choices and experiences that have made us who we are. We can’t be like we were when we were eighteen.”
“I don’t want us to be eighteen; I just want us to be family,” Kate said. “I thought that’s what you wanted too, but maybe not. Maybe it would just be easier if I went back to Atlanta. Then you could have this stupid house all to yourself and you wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Kate. Let’s be real. Did you really think you were going to stay? You would have grown tired of this place, and you know it. This isn’t you anymore—your fancy car, your designer clothes, they just don’t fit in this little town.”
Kate closed her eyes, tears coursing down her cheeks. “I’m going to bed,” she said simply. “You know your way out.”
Kate climbed the stairs up to her room and slammed the door behind her. She was angry that even with all of her efforts, her cousin’s opinion of her still hadn’t changed. Of course she’d had her doubts about moving back to Rose Creek, but she was ready to do it. She had changed a lot over the past four weeks. She listened as Leslie loaded her kids into her van and pulled away. She sat at the foot of her bed, silent and still. The anger bubbling inside her turned to the bitter embarrassment that accompanied betrayal. She couldn’t shake the memory of Leslie’s condescending tone as she mocked and belittled her.
At 10:30, her cell phone rang. She reached into her purse and flipped open her phone without even looking to see who it was. “Hello,” she said, voice short.
“Hi, Kate,” Steve said.
Kate sighed heavily. “Hi, Steve.”
“Listen, I won’t keep you long, but something happened at work today. Blanton wanted me to let you know.”
Kate glanced at her watch. She wondered why he’d waited so long to call.
“Okay,” Kate said. “What happened?”
“It’s the Charleston account. They called this morning and said they were going with a different firm for their newest campaign. Blanton convinced them to come in tomorrow morning for one final meeting in hopes of convincing them to give us another shot.”
“I thought they loved our ideas,” Kate said. “I didn’t even know they were shopping around.”
“I didn’t know either. This sort of came out of the blue. Listen, Kate, I know they’re your clients, but I don’t want you to worry. I’ve come up with some ideas to tweak our original presentation, changes I really think they’ll like. I told Blanton I would just take care of it.”
Now Kate understood the reason for his late call. Blanton told him to call in hopes that she would return in the morning in time for the meeting. But Steve knew the later he called, the less likely it was for her to make the trip. If she wasn’t there and he was able to secure the client himself, he would be that much closer to pushing Kate out altogether.
“You know what, Steve, thanks for offering. But don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in the morning. Tell Blanton I’ll take care of it.”
Chapter 30
7 June 1838
James ran away this afternoon. Mad at something his Ma said and angry because I agreed with her, he packed a small satchel of food and headed to the harbor to try his luck at getting work on a ship, he said. I found him there late this evening, his cheeks stained with dirt and tears, his shoulders sagging with embarrassment and defeat. I tried not to let my amusement show. I remember being a boy not much older than he and know well what it feels like to want to run away. I told him, as we sat, about the night I learned of my father’s death and how desperately I wanted to run away and never look back. In that moment, I felt so lost—like there wasn’t anywhere I belonged. My family was thousands of miles away, my father dead. In a sense, I was a stranger in a strange land and felt so very alone. But running didn’t change what life was. The cards were dealt, and it was up to me to decide what to make of them. I hope young James knows he’ll fare much better if he deals with life as it comes. Pretending, running—it does us no good.
“When will you be back?”
Kate looked at Andrew and sighed. “I don’t know that I will be back,” she said softly.
“Kate, I don’t understand.” He stood in the driveway as she put her bag in the trunk of her car. “What about the house? You’ve worked so hard. You can’t stop fighting now.”
She slammed the trunk closed and turned to him. “I’m not stopping,” she said. “Everything’s nearly ready. I’ll fax it into the commissioners office from Atlanta. If I come across any last-minute things I need, Linny can help.”
Andrew looked puzzled. “But it isn’t Linny’s house. It’s yours. Last night you were talking about moving here for good, and now you might not come back at all? Why the sudden change in priority?”
She’d known he would ask difficult questions if she saw him before leaving town. He was the one person in Rose Creek she didn’t really want to leave, but at the same time, she needed to clear her head. She had to get away from this place, even if it meant getting away from him for a while too. She’d sent him a text message the night before, hoping to avoid a conversation, but he’d come over anyway to see her before she left.
“I don’t know, Andrew.” She hesitated. “Maybe Leslie was right and I’ve been fooling myself. Maybe this house and this town really aren’t where I belong.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Andrew said. “What did Leslie say to you? You grew up here. This is your home.”
Kate shook her head. “Lesl
ie calls it like she sees it. And what does she see? She sees me pretending to be something I’m not, that I’ve never been.” She opened the door to her car.
“You’re not pretending, Kate. People change. Life happens, and people change all the time.”
“I’m sorry, Andrew,” she said. “I just don’t know if I can do it, if I can be the person you think I am.”
Andrew pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned against the car.
“What are you running away from? Is it me? Leslie? What is it?”
“I’m not running away from anything,” Kate said sharply. She slammed the car door shut in frustration and walked several steps away from the car. She turned and looked back at Andrew. “I don’t even know why I’m here, Andrew. I have an entire life back in Atlanta. I mean, really, why should I stay? Because my dead aunt thinks the house should belong to me? No one expects me to stick around anyway, so why should I? Leslie wants the house. The more I think about it, the more I think that’s probably the best thing for everyone. I think all this time I’ve just been kidding myself. I have been pretending to be someone who could change, who could have meaningful relationships with Leslie and the kids. I tried it, and it didn’t work. Like Leslie said, it just isn’t the real me.”
“But it is you, Kate. You know those kids love you, and you love them. And I’ve seen myself how much you love this house and love being in Rose Creek. Whatever Leslie said, it doesn’t change who you are.”
“No, it’s always been this way,” Kate said. “It has always been them and then me, the orphaned cousin. I don’t fit here. It’s not who I really am.”
“What about the gospel, Kate? Is that not who you are either?”
Kate looked down. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “I guess I just need to figure some things out.”
Andrew looked at her for a moment then took a step forward and reached for her hand. He leaned in and kissed her, gently at first then with such increasing intensity she completely lost her breath and forgot for a moment why she wanted to leave Rose Creek at all.
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