“Almost finished with this part. I thought, soon as I am, we could get it bush hogged, maybe plowed under.”
“I appreciate you including me,” Sunny said, smiling, “but this is all your doing, not mine.”
“You’re the boss, you give the orders and you’ll pay whoever does it.”
“If I can rent a hog, can you use it?”
“Yes, I can. I’ve learned a lot in my travels.”
“You’re a regular jack of all trades, just like you said. You’re exactly what we needed around here. You have no idea the money you’re saving me or you’d be agitating for a raise.”
“Maybe in another week,” he joked. He squinted at the sky. “About time to move inside. Wonder what Reese has for lunch today.”
Sunny’s reply was cut off by a shout. “Sunny. You took some tracking down, girl.”
“Wayland,” Sunny groaned, her tone anything but cordial.
“Friend of yours?”
“A pain in the neck is more like it,” Sunny answered, straightening her shoulders. “Damn.” She took a couple of steps toward the advancing Wayland.
He was a thin man, dressed in grease covered jeans and a pocket t-shirt, the pocket loaded with pens, a packet of cigarettes and a pair of glasses. A filthy cap was pulled low over his forehead, making it difficult to see his eyes. Whatever logo had decorated it was now unreadable, covered in grease and dust that had been reduced to mud from his sweat.
Cas squatted down, pulling his gloves back on, trying to give them a semblance of privacy, but all his attention was on Wayland. Cas didn’t consider himself especially psychic or anything near that, but the man made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was something not right about him, something that kept Cal tense and alert.
“What you doing here, girl?” Wayland asked Sunny in an aggrieved voice. “I told you I could do this for you. Now I hear you done hired some stranger…” He threw a hard look at Cas. “…to do for money what I’da done for free. You ain’t got no common sense, girl.”
“It’s business, Wayland,” Sunny said briskly. “No need to take offense. He’s another tax write off and I’m getting plenty of work out of him, more than you could give me. I told you I’d handle it my own way and so I have.”
“Had to make a trip to Raleigh, but I’m back now. I’ll take over, get it done right. You jest fire his ass…” Cas stiffened as he heard this, “…and we’ll start from there. Ennis says he’s been trouble already.”
“Nobody’s been trouble but Ennis. Leave off, Way, you’re worse than a dog with a bone. I’m not firing Cas and I don’t want you hanging around here. How many ways can I tell you and you not get it?”
Wayland grabbed her upper arm. “You got no call to talk that way. You been strugglin’ since Jim left you with all those damn bills. You need a man to tend to you. And your business.”
Sunny jerked her arm free and took several steps back, ending up beside Cas, still crouched, pretending to uproot a patch of weeds. Her face reflected her disgust, her voice was hard as she said “I don’t need any man to tend to me. I’m doing just fine without one. And if I did, it wouldn’t be you. You assume too much, Way, and if you don’t take no for an answer I’ll get a restraining order–even Ennis will have to respect that. You aren’t getting the inn, get used to it. And you’re not getting me. Get used to that too.”
Wayland’s face darkened with anger as he took a step toward her. He seemed to have dismissed Cas completely and Cas thought it time he entered the fray. Slowly he rose to his full height.
“You heard the lady,” he said, feeling remarkably foolish, like some gunslinger in a B Western. “She wants you to leave.” He slowly drew off his gloves again, flexing his fingers. “You’d best take her at her word. I’m here to back her up.”
Wayland hesitated. He had to look up to meet Cas’s eyes. His gaze flickered, dropped down to the hands holding the gloves, then back up. Cas looked back at him steadily The smaller man licked his lips.
“I don’t take no orders from a wet behind the ears bastard like you,” he finally said, but his voice lacked conviction. As if he realized this, he suddenly rushed Cas, who spun sideways, reaching out with a fist to punch Wayland’s back as he went by. Wayland took several staggering steps, his cap flying off his head, before he finally sprawled awkwardly on the ground.
“Son of a bitch!” he growled, getting to his knees.
“That’s enough, Way.” Sunny sounded spitting mad. “You’ve made enough of a fool of yourself, don’t be trying for more.” She picked up his cap with two fingers, her face showing her distaste. “Here, take this and get out of here. And I don’t want you back. I have to question Jim’s taste in calling you a friend.”
Wayland got to his feet, muttering under his breath and reached for his cap. Instead he grabbed Sunny’s wrist and pulled her to him.
“Getting too big for your britches, Sunny. Don’t you talk to me like that.”
Sunny’s eyes were pure silver, her mouth a thin line. She didn’t try to struggle. She braced herself and drove her knee up as hard as she could between Wayland’s legs.
With a shout, he let her go, staggering back with his hands covering his crotch. Before he could collapse to the ground, Cas’s fist landed on his chin and he fell backward into the last patch of weeds Cas had been working on. Sunny stood, hands on her hips, looking down at him with disgust.
“I’d ask if you were okay, but it’s obvious you’re just fine,” Cas said.
“I’ll thank you not to get cute at this particular time,” Sunny almost growled. Wayland groaned and curled up, one hand on his chin, the other between his legs.
“I’d be thankful if you’d escort this piece of…this person to his truck, please, Cas. Just dump him in and leave him. I’m calling Paul Duncan and getting a restraining order. He’s had his last drink at the Crossroads.”
“Yes ma’am,” Cas said obediently, hiding a smile. He began pulling his gloves on again.
“And don’t you be looking so smug either. And don’t be calling me ma’am! Good Lord, Cas, you don’t need those gloves, he’s not that dirty.”
“Maybe not, but those weeds he’s in are poison ivy.”
“Oh.” Sunny looked taken aback and then began to smile. “Oh–are they just, now? How fitting. Bring him on then.”
Cas managed to get Wayland to his feet and one of his arms over his shoulder. Sunny made the observation that Wayland was still trying to curl up like a roly poly, whatever that was, Cas had no idea.
Slowly they made their way to the front of the inn.
* * * *
“Why the hell do I miss all the good stuff?” Reese was pissed. He’d been wanting to teach Wayland Edwards a lesson for the last five years; only the respect he felt for Sunny had held him back. She had seemed to prefer to handle it herself, but damn, he didn’t know she was that capable.
“You done good, boy,” he told Cas. “Here, have some more bread.”
Cas shook his head. ”You’ve been stuffing me like a goose. I almost wish I’d never mentioned it.”
“Damn, I wish I’da been there,” Reese said as he sat down across from Cas. “That sumbitch been needing a setdown anytime these last five years. How the hell such a scrawny excuse of a man can have such a big opinion of himself’s beyond me. Little bassard deserved it. He’s been harassing Sunny since Jim died.”
Cas swallowed a mouthful of lasagna. “He said something about debts…”
Reese leaned back, settling in for a good gossip, cradling his coffee cup.
His opinion of Cas had changed drastically since he’d been more or less forced to defend him against Ennis. He’d kept an eye on him and was impressed by his work ethic. No halfway measures for Cas, no siree. He gave an honest day’s work with no complaining and no slacking off. In fact, Reese himself had had to intervene before the boy sweated himself away. There was a lot of Cas, but it all went up.
“Well now, Jim Douglas was
a likeable man, a real likeable man, had no enemies far as I could tell. Always smiling, always with the joking and he’d give you the shirt off his back. His daddy, my friend Will, was sure proud of him. He was fine to look at, sorta like you, only heavier. Well, he was older…how old are you anyway, Cas?”
“Old enough,” Cas said with a slight smile.
Reese shook his head. “Still keeping your secrets, are you? Might come back to bite you in the ass, if you’re not careful.”
“You were saying about Jim.”
“Oh…well, the thing is, he’d give you the shirt off his back, but most folk ain’t needing shirts, they’s needing money. And some of them’s not too careful about paying that money back. Jim overstepped himself there. Never did have any common sense as far as I could see. Got strapped for cash, and he’d made some bad investments trying to make up for it. You wouldn’t know he had a worry in the world though, not to look at him. I have to wonder if that boy had any sense at all. Drove hisself off a cliff one night. Lots of speculation as to why, but what I say is it was an accident, sure enough. He’d only had a couple of drinks. I believe he was trying to think his way out of his predicament and he come too close to the edge of that cliff. Once he started over, weren’t nothing he could do about it.”
“It must have been a shock, especially for Sunny.”
“That it was. The talk didn’t help none either. And then it come out how deep in debt he was, borrowing money from loan companies, banks, wherever he could, trying to keep the inn going. Sunny like to have lost it. She had to cut back real hard. We all had to pull our belts tight.”
Someone dropped a pot. Reese jumped then sat up straight.
“What the fuck’s going on over there?” he roared.
“Sorry, Mr. Graham. It slipped. Handle’s a bit greasy.”
“You run it through the washer?”
“Yessir.”
“You read that manual again. Nothing wrong with that washer. Cas checked it out the other day. You get it figured out or it’s a F for you.”
“You grade your assistants?” Cas asked with a smile. “You treat them like students.”
Reese shifted in his chair. “They are. I got me a cooking school here. Damn fools think I know what I’m doing and I never look a gift horse in the mouth. They want to give me their money to learn how to burn water, I’m glad to let them.”
“So you don’t get half the profits. You’re a fake, Reese.”
Reese scowled. “Fuck off, Martin. Mind your own business.”
Cas looked like he was enjoying himself, Reese thought. Look at him-sitting there trying to look sincere. Butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Maybe he ought to poke a hole in them dimples for him.
“I’m hurt you would talk that way to me, Reese. I thought we’d come to an understanding.”
Reese scowled harder. “We have, damn it. You keep your mouth shut, hear? I don’t want it getting out Sunny doesn’t pay me a dime. But it’s family, you know? You got to do for family.”
“Sunny’s your family? Literally?”
“Shit, I’m her uncle. Sunny was a Graham before she become a Douglas. Look, we got things set up here just like we want them. You’re icing on the cake, boy. You’re a good handyman. I would never have thought it, you look so damn young. You’re saving her a passel of money. She had to do something. The place was getting second rate, but getting so called experts in woulda cost a fortune. You’re a godsend, boy.”
Cas looked pleased. “I’m satisfied here. This is the most content I’ve been since…well, I can’t remember since when.”
Reese pushed back his hat and tried to hide his concern. “You ready to talk yet, son?”
Cas looked down at his hands. “I don’t know.” His gaze flicked up to Reese. “It’s a sordid story. My father…he has a reputation. I suppose you could find him if you tried hard enough. Anything’s possible these days with computers and all. You could find out all his accomplishments, all the successes he’s had, all the awards he’s won. But it won’t tell you what’s behind them. It won’t tell you about the private man and how he lives his life, what his beliefs are and how he abuses people. That won’t be there.”
“Who is your father?” Reese asked softly. “I don’t mean to do anything with the information, I just want to know for my own satisfaction. These old ears hear a lot. I got friends in all sorts of places. It could be like an early warning system. Sunny told me you’re laying low and I expect it’s because of your daddy.”
Cas stared out the half open window, then returned his gaze to Reese. “I think I’ve more or less come to terms with it. He can’t intimidate me anymore. I realized that since I came here. Not physically, not emotionally. Not anymore. Ennis, of all people, helped me understand that.”
Reese’s lips tightened. “Old fool. Guess everyone’s good for something. If that’s so though Cas, why you still hiding?”
“Habit, I guess. Look Reese…” Cas leaned forward, his expression serious. “If he found me here, if he did…it might mean nothing to me anymore, but what would it mean to the town? He’s a powerful man, is Jose Aguilar. He could destroy this town with his money and connections. It’s best my past remains just that. Past.”
Reese looked troubled. “If you think it best, son. But it sticks in my craw. I think this town would handle him. Somehow. You’re beginning to make a place for yourself here and I’m hoping you’re planning on staying.”
“I do plan to stay, unless it brings danger to the town, to Sunny. She’s helped me so much, I would never put her or her inn in danger. And my father is a dangerous man. Hard and…he’s hard.”
“All right, son. We’ll speak no more about it. You finished eating? I need to see if that idiot has learned how much soap to put in a dishwasher. He won’t be boiling no water until he learns to tend to his equipment properly.”
“I’m done. And I got a tub to grout.”
“You come back for supper. No sense you eating alone in that damn cottage. We’ll have us a little party.”
Cas smiled and nodded in agreement.
Chapter 8
Sunny couldn’t settle. She felt alive. Everything and everybody around her stood out sharply, took on a beauty she hadn’t noticed before, almost shimmering in the intense light of the hot afternoon. No, she couldn’t settle. Wayland Edwards looking like a roly poly had really made her day, and what she had done to him she’d been longing to do for years.
Wayland was one of those men who gave the south a bad reputation. Loud mouthed, vulgar and not too careful with his personal habits. He’d been lusting after her even before Jim died. A woman could tell–the brushing up that seemed so innocent but wasn’t, the off color jokes he thought so funny, that outlined exactly what he’d like to do her, the many times he caught her alone when he knew Jim wouldn’t be there. The fact was he treated her like a dimwitted fool, good for nothing but bedroom acrobatics. Barefoot and pregnant, that’s how he liked a woman to be.
After Jim’s death, it became apparent that although he still wanted to get her in his bed, he wanted the inn more. He could only get it through her and he began to make her life miserable, until she took to hiding whenever she saw him coming. The inn was her home as well as her business, but she was leery of staying in her rooms if she knew he was in the bar drinking. She wasn’t exactly afraid of him, but she didn’t want the trouble he could cause.
The hotel staff, without a word being said, had rallied around her. Wayland found he was never left alone, and never got near the wing that housed her apartment. If he was frustrated, he refused to let it show, and he never got quite drunk enough to be banned from the premises.
As time went on, as Jim faded into a misty memory, Wayland became more outspoken. He assumed. Anyone listening to him could be excused for thinking Sunny was his woman and that it was only a matter of time before they’d marry. She lost count of the times she’d told him to leave, that she didn’t want him around. His hide was as thick as his m
ind. Her words bounced off him and she wondered if she should start to worry that he’d wear her down and she’d accommodate him just to shut him up.
That was frivolous thinking though. She would never put herself completely in his power, legally or physically. She knew the kind of man he was, one who took ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ to new limits, and the rod wouldn’t be confined to only a child. She expected he used those hard hands of his to keep any woman fool enough to take up with him in line also.
It had felt good, what she’d done to him. Her knee sinking into his soft balls had made up for a lot. Not quite everything, but a lot. What Jim had found to like in him she couldn’t imagine. Perhaps he’d made a good hunting buddy; Wayland had the reputation of being the best hunter in the four state area. Anyone who went hunting with Wayland was bound to have a good hunt.
And Cas…Cas had looked magnificent. The bandana tied around his head to keep the sweat from his eyes had given him a piratical look, and when Way had shown up, a downright dangerous look. His t-shirt had been damp and molded to his body, and when he’d punched Wayland, every muscle had leaped to attention. She had noticed, even in her own agitation. She’d have to be dead not to notice something like that.
Now she couldn’t relax, not at her desk, not at reception, and Reese had chased her out of his kitchen after she’d spilled a bowl of sugar. She supposed she should be thankful it wasn’t salt. She’d had all the bad luck she could take.
She found herself wandering the inn, supposedly checking that everything had been done right. As if her staff hadn’t been with her for years and knew her ways and were perfectly trustworthy. A good manager kept a finger on the pulse of the business and it was only good management that she check out Room Twelve and make sure the job was going according to plan. As if she didn’t know already that Cas was a meticulous worker, taking pride in everything he put his hand to. She’d done her best to keep distance between them, tried to deny what was so obvious even to herself, but the retaining wall built by her morals and beliefs was crumbling fast.
Song of Life Page 6
