Ladd Haven

by Dianne Venetta

  Yes. Victoria, like any mother, would want what’s best for her son. She’d want him to be the best he could be. She’d want him to have a relationship with his daughter. She’d said as much during their dinner, making a fuss about the importance of family—of blood—and how they needed to stay close. If Felicity could convince Mrs. Foster that Jack was hurting the family, preventing any potential for a relationship between Felicity and the Foster family, maybe she’d drop this misguided support for her son. She was a reasonable woman. She had a heart. She cared about family, about people. Withdrawing her support in this case wouldn’t mean she was abandoning her son, quite the opposite. She could help him change. Like Troy, maybe Jack Foster could change his ways. If only someone was there to extend a hand in forgiveness. Why shouldn’t that person be her?

  Seated on the edge of a hay bale, Troy decided to call Casey. If she was on her way, he was gonna tell her to stop, meet him at the diner instead. He was hungry and tired and in no mood to face his parents, not without first discussing his options with Casey. The two of them needed to talk before he made any final decisions. Decisions. Big decisions like where to live, how to earn some money. Angst skirted through his pulse. They had a baby on the way and he was responsible. He had to find a way to provide for both her and Casey.

  Casey told him it was a girl. A little girl. His heart swelled. He was gonna be a daddy to a baby girl. Glancing around the barn, the horse tack, the feed—this was the core of his life, a life he was gonna share with a child. Envisioning a chubby little face beaming up at him, dark curls of hair covering her head, Troy reaffirmed his need to provide. Only for the time being, that paycheck wasn’t gonna come from Harris Hotels. Troy accepted Mr. Harris’ decision about hotel policy. It was a good policy. No one needed criminals working the grounds of a fancy hotel.

  Criminal. The word snaked through him. He was no criminal. Jack Foster was the criminal. Heading for a phone in the barn office, he dialed Casey’s number. When she didn’t pick up, he left a message, “Case, I’m leaving. Meet me at the diner.” On second thought, “Call me, will ya?”

  Ending the call, he cursed. He forgot that his cell phone was dead. Hopefully Travis had dropped his truck at the parking lot but without a phone, there was no way to confirm. Shaking his head, he walked out of the barn, headed out. Dad gum truck better be there.

  Suddenly Casey’s car began to slow. “What the—” She pressed the accelerator but the car continued its deceleration. “Oh, no... Not now!” The car had been acting up over the last few weeks, starting and stopping in fits. At the moment, it was a complication she didn’t need.

  Darting a glance to the rearview mirror, Casey checked for oncoming cars. No one was behind her. Ahead of her the slow-poke station wagon put distance between them. She jammed a boot to the gas pedal. No response. Casey scanned the roadside for an area to pull off. Trees, ditches, mailbox, there was no space large enough for her car. “Dang it!”

  Wheels continuing to slow, the car rolled ahead like a lead balloon. Tugging at the sluggish steering wheel, Casey’s glance raced across the dashboard. Red arrows indicated engine temperature, oil pressure, battery strength, gas level. Gas level. Her spirits crashed.

  The tank was empty! Casey aimed for the nearest driveway, praying her car would make it. How could she run out of gas? How could she have missed it? But missed it she had, the car coasting past a ditch before settling safely on a gravelly driveway. Hopefully no one would be coming out any time soon because she was completely blocking their way.

  Not like she could do anything about it. At a complete standstill, she watched in dismay as the tail lights of the station wagon disappeared around a wooded corner. Grabbing her purse, Casey pushed out of her car with an angry shove. No car trouble was going to stop her from getting to Troy. She’d darn well walk if she had to. Crawl if it came to it. Nothing was going to keep her from seeing her man.

  Tossing the door closed, she stood, peering up the road. Trees leaned over the street, branches hovering in a green canopy of shade. It couldn’t be that far. This was the last turn before the Sweeney property. But as she walked, her spirits dipped when she registered where she was. She wasn’t on the curve she’d originally thought. Taking in her surroundings, the lack of driveways, the scarcity of flowered dogwoods, Casey realized she was a mile or so farther away.

  Her heart fell. She couldn’t walk that far!

  She’d have to get a ride. She’d call her aunt, her mother—she’d call Troy! Someone would give her a ride. Pulling the phone from her purse, Casey sagged as she looked at the tiny screen. No signal. There was no signal in this stretch of the mountains! Slinging a glance in both directions, Casey wanted to cry. Living in the mountains meant intermittent signal. No signal. No car. She was left with nothing but empty road.

  No one coming. No one going. Nothing but pavement.

  Shaking it off, Casey continued toward Ladd Springs. Eventually someone would drive by. This area was rural but it wasn’t desolated. Five o’clock in the evening there’d be someone driving home from work. Granted talking to strangers wasn’t a great idea, but no one would mess with a pregnant woman. That would be plain sick.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jack Foster placed a pair of folded jeans on top of his suitcase, then closed the lid, pulling the zipper closed. There hadn’t been a whole lot to pack. He’d only intended to stay through the holidays until his mother convinced him to stay indefinitely. He had no job waiting for him, no family. Why not stay on at the ranch until he figured out his next step? When Daddy didn’t object, the matter was settled. Like she said, Jack had nowhere else to go.

  So he stayed here, in the guest room. It used to be Clint’s room, but all hints of masculinity had been wiped clean, replaced by an immaculate antique desk and four-poster bed, the mattress covered by a patterned quilt and stylish throw pillows. Jack’s room had been remodeled into a suite for Thelma. Now that she was getting on in age, the housekeeper stayed over on the nights she worked late, as opposed to driving home.

  “You don’t have to leave,” his mother said. Appearing in the doorway, she fixed an unsteady gaze on him. Dressed in an ivory silk blouse and linen slacks, her hair pulled back into a twist, she wore a complete face of makeup and diamond jewelry as if she were headed out for a night on the town, though he knew she wasn’t going anywhere this evening. Victoria Foster always dressed to the hilt because one never knew what a day held in store.

  Jack smiled at her logic. “I don’t want to cause you and Daddy any more harm than my being here already has.”

  “This is your home. You shouldn’t be run out of here like a scalawag.”

  Jack chuckled at the old-fashioned term. His mother was so proper, so prim. Initially her adamant defense had surprised him. He hadn’t looked forward to revealing the incident involving Delaney for fear his mother would kick him out. After the fiasco with Felicity, her sterling image of him was steadily coming under fire. Another smear and Jack had thought she’d show him the door. But to his astonishment, she had done nothing of the kind. Instead, she came to him, wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. We’ll get through this together. Those Ladds will pay for what they’ve done.

  Victoria Foster never cared for the Ladds. Jack knew it was due to Daddy’s old relationship with Delaney’s mom, but they were feelings never publicly aired. His mother had consented to Jack’s marriage, offered to host the ceremony and reception at their home. Old Ernie Ladd didn’t offer the first dime. His beloved sister’s daughter was getting married, yet he refused to spit out a cent. He didn’t attend, never sent a card. Nothing.

  It wasn’t until years later that Jack learned the depth of animosity between Ernie and his father. Before then he and his brothers were too busy prowling the town to concern themselves with others. But a few years of marriage to Delaney had opened his eyes. The rumors were true. Gerald Foster and Susannah Ladd had been romantically involved. Lovers, many said while others refuted the fact. O
nly friends, platonic, they claimed. But all agreed the two had been in love—a fact that royally incensed Ernie Ladd.

  Jack’s gaze settled on his mother, gathering her close. When had she learned the truth? It couldn’t have been before she met Daddy because he courted her from afar, while she still lived in Chattanooga. Jack smiled inwardly. Smart man. The only women around these parts interested in tangling with the Ladd-Foster feud were after his money. The stately and elegant Victoria Guthrie had money of her own and no knowledge of the events prior, making her the perfect wife for Gerald Foster. Now she was staking her marriage to a fence post for all to see. She was taking sides.

  Against her husband.

  Jack smiled indulgently. “No one is going to mistake me for a scalawag, Momma. Your reputation will remain intact.” Disapproval glinted in her eyes, forcing Jack to walk the statement back. No sense in alienating his only ally. “Forgive me, it was a joke. Your reputation reigns far and above anything I could be involved in disputing.”

  “I don’t like what they’re trying to do to you. Cal is letting a job come between him and his family and it’s not right.”

  “Fine way to repay you after everything you did to help him return home from Arizona, tail between his legs and his butt on his shoulders.”

  “Jack.”

  “Sorry, Momma, but you know it’s true. He didn’t have a pot to sit on as far as friends, and here you opened you doors to him. Ungrateful bastard.”

  She unwound her arms and entered the guest room. “Enough about Cal. I don’t want you to go. What are you going to do? Where are you going to live?”

  Jack throttled his temper. His mother didn’t deserve his wrath. She was one of the good guys. “I’ll get a place at a local hotel—a decent one,” he underscored, “and nowhere near the Ladds.”

  “How long will you stay?”

  Jack shrugged. “Until I decide my next step.” He’d been in town since Thanksgiving, doing nothing but drifting save for a brief stint with the gorgeous developer lady, Jillian Devane. Jack felt a surge of arousal at the mere thought of the woman. Unlike any woman he’d ever known, her looks were sleek and exotic, her touch silky smooth but beneath her beautiful exterior was a woman of stone. Cold, calculating. Jack had the sense she viewed him as a conquest rather than an enjoyable diversion but he could care less. It was all the same to him. Too bad Delaney’s new boyfriend ran her out of town.

  “But Mr. Dakota said the trial wouldn’t happen for weeks. What will you do in the meantime?’

  Yanking the suitcase from the bed, he set it to the floor. Lately Daddy had been pushing him toward a job with Beau on the ranch, but sweating outdoors wasn’t Jack’s thing. Back in Nashville he’d been selling cars, dating a few country singer wannabes. He had no ambition for any more. But when he was arrested for a fist fight with a manager from one of the bigger music labels, his boss fired him. Charges were dropped on the condition he leave town. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. “I’ll figure something out,” Jack said. Right after he nailed Delaney’s little friend to the wall. Troy Parker had messed with the wrong man, and Jack was damn well going to see that he didn’t forget it. “Besides, like you said, we’ve got to make them pay.”

  A tentative smile eased onto her lips. “Let me get my purse. I’ll give you some money.”

  Malcolm emerged from the office behind the front desk. He looked as drained as Annie felt, and for good reason. He’d accompanied Cal and Nick for both their trip to the jail and to Cal’s family’s home and Annie was certain this small town feud was more than he ever bargained for. Malcolm was a city boy from Los Angeles. He seemed happily married to Lacy, overjoyed by the birth of their baby Emma Jane, but now he’d been drawn into Troy’s mess and its potential repercussions for the hotel. Settling hands to his hips, he said, “Why don’t you two go on. It’s been a long day.”

  Cal and Annie looked to him. “It’s only five o’clock,” Cal replied.

  Glancing back toward the recessed office door, he nodded. “True, but I have a few more hours of work left to do. No sense we’re both here.”

  “Where’s Lacy?” Annie asked.

  “With Fran. The two are having dinner at the diner with Emma Jane. They’re not expecting me. Fran is trying to give Jimmy more responsibility so she’s sitting the night out, watching while he works as a pseudo manager. Lacy says it’s about time.”

  “I agree,” Annie said. “Fran might be Chief Cook and Bottle Washer, but the woman needs a break now and again.”

  “More like she’s looking for a chance to play with the baby,” Cal corrected.

  Malcolm grinned. “Agreed. Something you two are going to have yourself in a couple of months.”

  Thoughts of Casey’s baby pulled mixed feelings from her. “Yes. Soon.” Looking up at Cal, Annie sighed. “I need to call her.” She wanted to know how Casey was dealing with Troy’s situation, the future. Annie was concerned she wasn’t going to take the news well. Ashley reassured her that Casey seemed fine, but was she? Would she want to talk?

  “Do one better and go home to her,” Malcolm said. “She’ll need her family to get through this situation with Troy.”

  Malcolm didn’t mention Jack. Annie wondered if it was purposefully not to offend Cal.

  Cal seemed hesitant, but at Malcolm’s insistence, acquiesced. “Okay. Thanks, Malcolm.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be back first thing.”

  “You mean pre-dawn.”

  The comment drew a small smile from her husband. “Mother Nature’s never prettier than when she’s wakin’ up in the morning.” Cal slid an arm around Annie and drew her close. “Same goes for a woman.”

  Malcolm laughed. “You won’t hear any disagreement from me!”

  Grateful for the break in tension, Annie leaned into Cal’s embrace. Warm, solid, she needed his strength but understood he needed hers, too. Together, they’d get through this mess. Together. The word gave her a tingle.

  Cal took Annie by the hand and walked her to the front door. “You hungry?” he asked. “Maybe we can convince Casey to join us for a bite to eat and have a visit with Lacy and the baby?”

  “Good idea.” Annie punched in her home number. No answer. Then Casey’s cell. After she waited through the rings, the call went to voicemail. “Casey, it’s Mom. Cal and I are going to Fran’s for dinner and wanted to know if you’d like to join us. Lacy and the baby will be there. Let me know...” Annie wanted to know where Casey was, she wanted to tell her to call the minute she received the message.

  Ending the connection, Annie slipped the phone back into her purse, forcing herself to let the worry go. Casey was an adult. She was going through her own troubles and was probably with Troy this very minute.

  Casey yanked branches from her path as she stomped through the underbrush. This used to be a shortcut to Ladd Springs. She remembered it from years ago when she and her friends used to come out here and spy on Felicity and Travis and Troy. Back then it had been an established trail. Now it was nothing but leaves and weeds and vines of some sort. “Ouch!” Glaring at her thorn-punctured thumb, she sucked the red tip. Whipping her glance around, she looked for easier passage. Sunlight slanted through the trees, coating leaves in a gold-white haze. Heat was lifting from the mountain, but it didn’t ease her body temperature. She was hot, sweating, her cotton dress sticking to her back. The hike had been more than she bargained for, but once committed there was no going back. Besides, she had to be getting close.

  Continuing several more steps, she detected an open space around the bend ahead. Was that the trail? Hurrying, she was rewarded with the sight of a clearing. More a break in the brush, but it might be a section of trail that would prove an easier trek. Propelled by renewed energy, she worked through trees and bushes, boots crunching over fallen branches until she made it to the open space. Relief flooded her as she glanced over the ground of moss-covered rocks and clay. Yes. This was the trail. Glancing in the direction of Ladd Springs, Ca
sey knew she was getting close now. Close to Troy.

  Felicity tamped down a swell of nerves as she turned onto the drive for the Foster’s ranch. There was nothing to be nervous about. It wasn’t like Mrs. Foster was some kind of monster lying in wait to eat her. She was a beautiful, elegant, compassionate woman. She’d raised four boys, had good standing in the community. Everyone in town knew her family, respected her personally, not only for her medical charity work but because she had taken it upon herself years ago to form a committee and raise money to build a new library. Built of brick and pillars, the downtown facility was not only beautiful but housed a children’s reading room and the latest in computer technology including nearly a dozen computers, not to mention any book you ever wanted to read. Most amazing, the small town library rivaled any Felicity had seen at the University of Tennessee.

  Yes, Felicity assured herself, Mrs. Foster was decent, noble. Surely she would do the right thing, and who knew? Maybe the two could have a relationship going forward. After all, the Fosters were her only living grandparents. Shouldn’t they be close?

  It was a question soon to be answered. She drove through rolling fields, four-board fencing lining her way, gorgeous horses grazing idly on either side of her as the afternoon sun sank into the western horizon. The heat of the day had gone, leaving a blaze of green mountain landscape in its aftermath. As Felicity pulled around the circular drive in front of the two-story estate, she was hit by a wave of doubt. Should she have called? What if Mrs. Foster wasn’t here? She glanced at the dashboard clock. Five-thirty on a Monday night should find her at home, shouldn’t it?