Ladd Haven

by Dianne Venetta

  “Good. Other than that, I don’t know a whole lot about Ernie’s side of the family. As you recall, we weren’t real close.”

  “No,” she murmured, more to herself than Delaney. “Is there anything about your grandfather that stands out?”

  “Not really. I think Grandpa Ladd died from a moonshine overdose.”

  “And your grandmother?”

  “Not sure, really. She was a mouse of a woman from what I remember. Died early but I can’t say from what. A blessing in disguise, if you ask me.”

  Annie understood. Old man Ladd was a bear of a man, his reputation for violence scorched the earth around him. She’d heard stories about him whipping the boys, even the occasional whisper about him taking his belt to his daughter, Susannah. Annie didn’t remember much about Mrs. Ladd, only that her husband was a man to steer clear of. “Okay. If you think of anything else, let me know will you?”

  “Is there something the doctor is worried about in particular?”

  “Not that he said, other than a complete history would help in diagnosing any problems before they became significant.”

  Delaney scoffed. “That sounds reassuring.”

  Annie thought it vague as well, but without the first scrap of medical knowledge she was in no position to question the man. “Like I said, if anything comes to you, give me a call.”

  “Will do.”

  Ending the call, Annie pushed up from her desk, staring at the blank notepad in dismay. She didn’t know any more now than when she’d initiated the call. Thoughts of Casey barreled into her mind. She’d been upset when they left the office, more concerned than she let on, and it worried Annie. Of course it had to do with Troy. She asked the doctor if the baby’s father mattered when it came to his health history questions and his muted response of “perhaps” had thrown Casey into a tailspin. Clearly, she didn’t want to tell Troy the truth, and she certainly didn’t want there to be a reason to tell him. Turning out the light, Annie felt her own tailspin of emotion coming on. Watching her daughter bottle up emotional stress during her pregnancy was taking its toll. From what she read in the baby magazines, stress could be a killer. Physical, emotional, mental stress could take a toll on a woman’s body and wreak havoc on her unborn child, yet Annie was powerless to do anything about it. Casey had to be the one to calm her fears. Casey had to be the one to settle her heart. Could she?

  That was the question.

  Lying in bed, Delaney trained her eyes through the black of night, locating a knotty patch of log above. Roughhewn, the construction of her mother’s hideaway cabin was as rustic as it came, the bare minimum in construction and shelter. But then again, considering the entire cabin was built by her mother’s brothers, Ernie and Albert Ladd, the feat took on a whole new value. Amazing really what they were able to accomplish, and as teenagers no less.

  Motivated by love and a fierce sense of devotion, the boys would have moved mountains for their sister, Susannah. They would have done anything to protect her from the brutal hand of their father. Delaney closed her eyes, warding off visions of an abusive Grandpa Ladd against his helpless daughter. Delaney remembered bits and pieces of his rage from her own childhood, but it was the tales Uncle Albert told that set her heart on fire. Not only was Grandpa Ladd’s heart hard as rock, but his hand was swift with a belt, whipping the boys on a regular basis. Knowing them as she did now, Delaney could understand they might have deserved some of it, at least on occasion. But her mother?

  The bastard even took the leather strap to her. Thinking back, Delaney couldn’t imagine her mom enduring anything so brutal, yet she never once mentioned it, never once spoke a cross word against her father. Granted her mom didn’t speak many kind words either, but from what Delaney had learned, the man deserved a tongue lashing and then some. Delaney likened Ernie’s and Albert’s efforts on her mother’s behalf to what she was trying to do for Felicity, only it wasn’t physical abuse she feared for her daughter. It was emotional.

  Next to her, Nick caressed the fine hairs around her forehead. He was a gentle and loving man. It felt good to have him close, felt good to have him in her life. She could hear his soft rhythmic breathing, sense the mutiny of words brimming at his lips. He was a strong man, a good man. The idea of striking a woman was as reprehensible to him as it was to her, yet he didn’t agree with her choice to withhold the truth from Felicity. He believed she should have been told. It would have helped her to understand the divorce, understand the grit of her mother’s love.

  It was a decision Delaney was beginning to regret herself. If she’d been honest with Felicity years ago, she wouldn’t be facing the current predicament. Felicity would understand why a relationship with her father was toxic. But Felicity didn’t understand. She didn’t understand the first hint of the reality that awaited her, disguised behind the walls of an elegant home and beautiful people because Delaney had withheld the information.

  “Should I tell her?”

  Nick’s hand stilled. “Now?”

  “Better late than never,” she said, pathetic words fading into the darkness.

  “Do you want her to have a relationship with her grandparents?”

  “They’ve never been interested in one before.”

  “Why not?”

  A host of reasons, not the least of which was embarrassment. Mrs. Foster was a society type. Her son’s behavior was a stain on her reputation, one she couldn’t remove, no matter how hard she tried, and she’d claw her way past any truth to prevent a town full of gossip. Then there was her animosity for Susannah, borne from a jealousy she couldn’t get past. Jack’s father didn’t help. Gerald Foster understood his sons were hellions, accepted the fact. They were his blood and he wasn’t going to forsake them. He might try to round them up and tie them to nearby post on occasion, but he wasn’t about to abandon them.

  Susannah Ladd’s granddaughter was a different story. The spitting image of her grandmother, Felicity could only remind Gerald of the one woman he loved and lost. It was a love story of epic proportions in the local rumor mill. To this day, almost fifty years later, the town whispered about Gerald Foster and Susannah Ladd, at least those who knew them back then. But Susannah married Harry Wilkins, forever scarring Gerald’s heart. A reality Victoria had to live with every day. A reality that bit deep.

  “Jack’s mother has never invited Felicity over because it’s a cap of crickets she doesn’t want to open.”

  “Huh?”

  Delaney rolled her head toward Nick. “Jack’s father used to have it bad for my mother. He wanted to marry her, but Ernie hated him with a passion and did everything in his power to split the two apart. Since Ernie was her older brother, my mom listened to him. She wouldn’t go against him.” After all, she owed her safety and well-being to him, as well as this cabin. She ended up falling in love and marrying my father.”

  Nick rose up onto an elbow. Resting his hand on her abdomen, a sharp interest cut into his voice. “You don’t say?”

  “I do. It was a big to do back in the day. Some of the ears in town still burn with the story of Gerald and Susannah.”

  “What’s that got to do with Felicity and Gerald’s wife?”

  “Felicity is the spitting image of my mother.”

  Nick let out his breath in a heavy sigh. “Enough said. And Victoria knows?”

  “I don’t know how much she knows about the relationship between Gerald and my mother. She’s originally from Chattanooga, and I doubt anyone around here would have filled in the blanks for her. But Gerald knows. I’ll guarantee you it’s why he hasn’t pushed the subject.”

  “My, my, you mountain folks never cease to entertain.”

  Delaney jabbed him with an elbow.

  “Ouch!” Grabbing hold of her improvised missile he said, “I meant that as a compliment.”

  “Sure you did.”

  Nick chuckled, sliding her arm over her midsection to keep it securely intact with his hand. She could see every line in his face, ever
y ounce of his smile, the glimmer in his eyes. Even in the dark Delaney could envision her husband as clear as if he were standing in a valley of sunshine. He leaned close and whispered into the side of her head, sending a shaft of tingles across her chest. “I was referring to the level of passion. You country gals can really lasso a man into knots.”

  The image amused her. “So take notes.”

  He laughed. “I am, sweetheart. I am.”

  “Anyway...” Delaney sighed, thrusting a stream of tension from her lungs. “Felicity is walking into a hornet’s nest over there and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  “Do you think they’re going to rehash the past for her benefit?”

  “No. I’m afraid they’re going to be tense and edgy, and she’s going to think they don’t like her.”

  “Don’t sell your daughter short. Felicity is made of strong fiber. A few stiff old folks aren’t going to injure her soul.”

  “Rejection is a pretty strong weapon. It’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Because I come from a picture-perfect family?”

  “Don’t you?” At Nick’s hesitation, Delaney grunted. “At least you can’t lie,” she said. Nick interlaced his fingers with hers and Delaney was glad for the connection. The weight of their hands together felt firm, solid. Like him. It wasn’t his fault he was raised by two loving parents. Nor was it hers that she came from a family of dysfunction. “I don’t want her to get hurt. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  “Life is full of hurt. She’s a young woman with a good head on her shoulders. She’s smart and strong and she has you to thank for that.” Nick lightly squeezed her hands. “She’ll be fine.”

  Delaney appreciated the vote of confidence but didn’t share his conviction. When loved ones let you down, it hurt like a knife through the heart. A stake through the soul. It was a hurt that never left you.

  “Speaking of hurt, are you sure about your decision to hire Troy? Talk about hornet’s nest. That young man has a knack for smacking things.”

  Taking in the shape of his head and face, Delaney imagined his eyes as deep and dark as endless pools, pools that could swallow her whole. “Honestly?” She closed her eyes. “I’m not sure of anything at the moment.”

  Chapter Nine

  Troy’s body gently swayed side-to-side as his truck rolled over the gravelly road that led to Hotel Ladd’s staff parking lot. At six-thirty in the morning, he was challenging the sun in both vigor and timing. He was pumped to start his first day on the job. Delaney had called him last night and told him to show up first thing in the morning. No questions, no threats, no conditions. You start tomorrow at seven. He couldn’t believe his luck, but he was going to make dang sure she didn’t regret it. He was gonna be the best stable hand she ever saw this side of the Appalachian Mountains. Clear across to the Rockies, for that matter. She’d given him a chance because she believed in him.

  It was a trust he wasn’t going to break.

  Delaney told him the staff parking area was hidden from hotel view by a pack of trees, the center of which was cut by a stretch of trail connecting hotel and stables. He found it easy enough and pulled into the space closest to the trees. Grabbing his hat, he climbed down and tossed the door closed, headed in. It was a quiet time of day when only the birds were awake, swooping overhead in the trees, their high-pitched whistles distinct, penetrating the misty mountain morning. At this hour the air was marked by a chill, the damp smell of earth pronounced as he followed the path through the trees. Used to be he never saw this hour, let alone looked forward to it. He used to sleep in every chance he got, including school days if his parents would have allowed. He’d rather stay up late and wake up late. But his life had changed. It had to change. He couldn’t go on hurting the people closest to him by slacking.

  Looking ahead through the trees, Troy immersed himself in the sensation of boots and ground, the fragrant pine and laurel and the fresh scent of land. Branches floated overhead, roots jutted up from an uneven path of clay dirt. Gray rocks of all sizes lined the way, most covered by patches of white fungus. Inhaling deeply, he thought this was pure Tennessee. Pure mountain living. There was no place he’d rather be than right here, headed for a day with his horses. They weren’t technically his, but when Troy worked with horses, they became a part of him, like his very own. He bonded with each and every animal, forging a connection that allowed him to speak their language, train them for a purpose that suited them both. Horses were work animals, social animals. They liked to serve, liked to be part of a group. The only thing that would make the day better was knowing he’d be going home to Casey afterward where he could share his day. His heart squeezed. But that wasn’t gonna happen for a while. If ever, his heart whispered, though he refused to listen. He couldn’t give up on her. Not now, not ever. A flash of black caught his eye. He stilled. Was that a bear?

  Examining the distant foliage for signs of movement, Troy held his breath. His pulse quickened. Sure enough, a black patch of body was negotiating its way through the wooded space. Slow, leisurely, the animal picked its way through the brush, emerging onto the trail ahead of him. Troy edged off the trail a hair, careful not to draw attention to himself. The bear was a good size, too, easily capable of causing harm if he wanted. The bulky animal swung its head around, a tan tapered snout lifting in his direction. Troy tensed. Curious but unfazed by his presence, the animal returned to its business, lumbering in the direction of the stables. The bear didn’t seem to care one whit about him, sniffing and poking into bushes. Troy instantly wondered at guest encounters with the animals. Was Mr. Foster worried about such a thing?

  They claimed the hotel was at one with nature. Did visitors from other countries really understand what that meant in these parts? Troy chuckled to himself. He sure hoped so or they’d be in for one heck of a surprise! Allowing the animal to put some distance and privacy between them, Troy continued but at a slower pace. While they were at it, he mused, folks better keep their eyes peeled for snakes too. They were plenty of them along the riverbanks and creeks, openly sunning themselves on rocks and logs. Deadly ones, to boot.

  As the trail widened, Troy’s thoughts shifted toward the horses. He wondered what Miss Delaney had in store for him. Would she let him work with the horses or assign him cleanup duty? He was willing to do anything, though he’d prefer one-on-one contact with the animals. It’d be nice to see Vegas and his momma. Delaney had taken both of them which made Troy feel good. That mare sure was a beauty and good breeding stock from what he’d seen. Delaney would be fortunate to have more like Vegas.

  Troy stopped suddenly, struck by a strange sound. Turning his head, he listened. It sounded like someone was whistling. A body came into view where the trail converged into the main one leading out from the hotel. Troy straightened. It was Cal Foster. What was he doing here at this hour?

  Kicking into step, Troy approached, the whistle tune becoming clear. I wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten—look away! Look away! Look away, Dixie Land! Troy grinned. It was a song he knew by heart. As he waited for Mr. Foster to notice him, Troy silently chimed in. In Dixie Land I’ll take my stand, to live and die in Dixie!

  Recognition was quick as Mr. Foster realized he had company. “Troy!”

  “Good morning, Mr. Foster.”

  “I didn’t expect to find anyone out this early. Where are you headed?”

  “The stables,” Troy informed him proudly. “Miss Delaney called me last night to say I had a job.”

  Cal laughed. “Well, you’re an early one, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” He gave an eager nod. “Early bird catches the worm.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Coming to within feet of each other, Troy was glad the man was happy to see him, happy to hear he’d been hired on.

  “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Early morning hikes
remind me of why I love living in Tennessee.”

  “Agreed. Kentucky was pretty but didn’t have near the appeal.”

  Cal pressed his lips together in contemplation. “Same with Arizona. You can take the boy out of the mountains but you can’t take the mountains out of the boy. They live inside in you.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I always do my best thinking at this hour of the day.”

  Troy couldn’t agree on that count. The majority of his thinking was done at night, when he was lying in bed alone. One of the reasons it especially hurt to be away from Casey for so many months. When they were living together in Murfreesboro, his thinking had been easy and free. He could speak openly about what he thought, listen to her opinion on how she saw things. Longing pulled at him. Casey was smart. She could see things he couldn’t, hear things he didn’t know he was saying. Shaking the emotion, he said, “Saw a black bear back a while ago.”

  “Did you?”

  “Sure did. A real fine sized one out for an early morning stroll like you.”

  Cal smiled. “Guess I’m not the only one out poking around at this hour.” He fixed his gaze on Troy, familiar brown eyes warming. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine, sir. Just fine.”

  “That’s good to hear.” Troy sensed Mr. Foster wanted to say more, something important, and waited in the thick of the quiet. It was unsettling to feel like you knew a man on the surface, a man who was damn near family yet didn’t feel like you had the first clue as to what lay beneath the surface. “Why did you leave, Troy?”

  Startled by the abrupt question, he stepped back. “Sir?”

  “Tennessee. Why did you leave Tennessee for Kentucky?”

  Clearing his throat, he said, “I wanted to prove myself to Casey.”

  “By leaving her?”

  “I didn’t leave her. Why does everyone keep actin’ like I deserted her? I tried to call her but she didn’t answer. I called you and told you to watch out for her until I got back.”