Max dropped his head, shoving a hand through his hair. Then he turned and walked back to his truck, staring Asher down and bumping him with his shoulder as he passed.
Asher unbuttoned a cuff, eyes darting to Lila for permission. She shook her head. He clenched his fists, then released them.
Max pushed the bucket aside with his shoe before opening his truck door. “Watch where you plant it. It's a willow; the roots run deep.” Then he slammed the door and peeled out of the driveway, his tires spitting gravel and churning dust.
Asher came back to Lila and wrapped an arm around her, leading her toward his car.
“Sorry about that,” Lila mumbled.
“Don't be. I'll take that guy right out of your life if you so much as say the word.”
Lila laughed weakly. “I don't think that will be necessary.”
“You're probably right. It's just as well you stopped me. He has a kid at home. But if you have any more trouble with him, let me know. I'll step in, physically and legally. I don't like the look of him. The whole family's crazy if you ask me.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, we won't let it ruin our night.” He held the door open for her like the perfect gentleman, and when she sat down, the scent of clean leather seats made her sigh. Apart from her nemesis, The Beast, she didn't mind riding in dusty pick-up trucks and old-lady Cadillacs, but this was a nice change. Plus, everything about Asher was the opposite of Max, which was comforting. What right did he have trying to start something with Asher, and telling her who she couldn't date, when he had his own family waiting for him at home? She tried to push him from her mind.
Asher started the car and George Strait crooned from the speakers.
“Is this all right?” he asked.
“One of my favorites,” she answered, trying to remember if she mentioned it to him when they danced together.
“Mine too. I've always liked Garth Brooks.”
Lila shot him a funny look. Clearly he knew nothing about Country music, but he wanted her to think he did. Was that charming?
She picked paint out from under her nails while she thought of something to say. “You'll be happy to hear that all my feathered guests have moved on.”
“I hope you're not too lonely.”
“I didn't think I'd be an empty nester at my age. But I'll get used to it.” She winced at her bad joke, but Asher chuckled.
As they drove past Barker's Lane and out into open farmland, Lila almost believed she would see Clint's pick-up, half-hidden on the side of the road. The memory of that day spread through her chest and into the pit of her stomach like black ink. She slipped a hand into her purse, feeling the cool screen of her phone for comfort, then chided herself. Just because Max was unstable didn't mean Asher was. But where was he taking her?
After a couple of miles he pulled the car off into a lane that divided two wheat fields. Lila tried to push down a feeling of panic as she stared wide-eyed out the window. There wasn't a soul to be seen. She jerked her head toward Asher as he touched her hand.
“It's okay.” He gave her an easy smile. “A client of mine owns this land. He doesn't mind.”
“Doesn't mind what?” she asked. What did he have planned out here in the middle of nowhere?
Asher went to the trunk and pulled out a blanket and a wicker picnic basket. He walked a few feet down the lane and spread the blanket, then motioned for Lila to join him. Embarrassed at herself, she gave him an over-exaggerated smile and got out of the car. They sat looking at the wheat rising up on either side of them. The green was just beginning to give way to gold.
This was the first evening since she'd been here that wasn't heavy and hot. The golden sun dipped toward the horizon, but there was a coolness in the air. A breeze rustled through the wheat, like an announcement that change would come, even if it seemed that the hot summer would last forever.
Lila looked up and down the dirt lane. “No one's going to run us over, right?”
Asher chuckled. “Only a couple of old farmers use this lane. They don't usually get too wild.”
“Right. You have to understand, I'm not a country girl. I'm still figuring out how things work here.”
He nudged her with his shoulder. “I'll look out for you.”
Lila gestured to the scene around them. “This is unexpected. I pictured you as a five-star, fine-dining kind of guy.”
“Well, all those places were booked up in Auburn.” He winked at her. “You disappointed?”
“Not at all.” She stuck out one foot, admiring her new flip-flops. “I am glad I wore my fancy shoes, though. Otherwise, I would feel really out of place.”
Asher laid his jacket aside, then unbuttoned his other cuff and rolled up his crisp, white sleeves. He opened the picnic basket and pulled two sandwiches from a white paper bag.
Lila unwrapped the plastic and breathed in the aroma of freshly baked bread, seasoned roast beef, and ripe tomatoes with a hint of balsamic vinegar. “You're not going to try to tell me you made these, are you?”
“I thought about it, but I didn't think you'd buy it. I didn't even try to hide Doug's signature white bag.”
She bit into the sandwich. “Bless Doug. I've been so busy today, I'm not even sure when I ate last.”
Asher took wine glasses from the basket, and a bottle of strawberry Snapple. He twisted the cap off. “Would you like something to drink?”
“A vintage Snapple? What's a sophisticated guy like you doing in a little town like this anyway?”
“I caught the sarcasm, but I'll answer that one anyway. I had a connection who knew Clint, and that he needed someone here. I had just graduated and was looking for a job, so I took it.”
“And are you sorry?”
He smiled. “Not anymore. At first, I daydreamed every day about getting out of this creepy town. But now I think I could be convinced to stick around. How about you? Do you think you could stay here?”
It bothered her, how he talked about this place. She thought of his sour face when Leona Bell had asked him to dance, and wondered again if he only turned on the charm when he wanted something.
“I don't think it's creepy. I think it's interesting, and the people are genuine. It feels good to learn where you come from. Of course, it's not somewhere I expected to be. I had other plans, but nothing that really felt right. If I ever get that house finished, I might have a better idea of what comes next.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “To being somewhere you never expected to be, and having no idea where you're going.”
She laughed and took a drink. “I wouldn't say no idea.” She tapped her fingers on the glass. “So how are you doing? I've been worried about you.” Her eyes squinted as she concentrated on reading his face. By now she knew that what came out of his mouth wasn't always what was in his mind.
The drained from his face, and he sounded more genuine than he had all evening. “It's been hard. Like I said, Clint treated me like family—better than family, in my case. My dad wasn't around much. He traveled a lot with his work. We only saw him every couple of months, actually. I was too young to understand that we were the other family, the one on the side.”
Lila shook her head. “That's—”
“No, you don't need to say it.” His voice was firm. “You were talking about learning where you come from. I'm trying to figure that out too. We're all searching for the legacy that is rightfully ours.”
She clinked his glass. “To . . . what you said.”
The sunlight had turned the wheat fields a reddish-gold, and Lila rubbed at her arms.
Asher wrapped his suit coat around her. “It's getting cool out here.” He leaned toward her in a moment that slowed time, as if she were watching an oncoming car veer into her lane and felt helpless to stop it. Until that moment, she hadn't known this wasn't what she wanted.
When his deep blue eyes were inches from hers she jerked her head away. “Did you hear something?” she asked, as the glass slipped from her
hand, spilling juice on their laps
“I'm sure it was nothing,” she said. “Sorry. I'm so clumsy,” She rooted through the sack for napkins, avoiding eye-contact with Asher. She dabbed at her dress and Asher's pants.
“Don't worry about it.” He went to grab her hand, but she pulled hers away, hoping the message would be clear. Asher checked off items on her Mr. Right list she hadn't thought to add, but there was something amiss. Perhaps it was just that Lila had become cautious when it came to romance. When she finally looked up that dark expression she'd seen before flashed over his eyes. Right on cue he banished it with a smile.
“Sorry. I don't mean to push. I just thought we understood each other in this wasteland of crazy.”
“Don't think I'm not grateful for everything you've done for me.”
“You think I did it to get something back? What kind of man are you accustomed to dating?”
Her chest burned, but she kept her voice calm. “No one like you. I think it's possible that you're not used to being told no.”
“I only want what's best for you.”
“I'll figure out what that is.” She took a deep breath, grabbing at her wet dress with a napkin. “Look, I know you've been through a lot, and I'm here if you want someone to talk to. But maybe it's best if we give each other some time to think.”
He pulled away from her and opened a second bottle, then refilled her glass. “Fair enough. One more drink for time to think.” He smirked. “I should have brought something stronger than this. Too bad the stuff makes me . . . unattractive. Guess my old man left me something after all.”
Without speaking, they watched the shadows creep until they became an indistinguishable mass and the rosy horizon changed to indigo. Lila's concerns about the house repairs resurfaced, followed by a replay of the evenings misfortunes. She'd begun to believe the town of Auburn held a host of unexpected possibilities for her, ready for the plucking, like the Bell sisters' bountiful and fragrant peony bushes. But maybe her life here was more like the old Chevy truck, not likely to go very far.
A breeze rustled through the corn, sending a chill through Lila. She remembered the sound she'd heard earlier. At the time, it was a convenient way out of an awkward situation, but as dusk fell over the fields, the idea that they might not be alone sunk in.
While she considered what she might say to bring this date to an end without starting another argument, her head leaned to one side and her eyelids became heavy. Finally she settled for, “I'm getting really tired. Painting was harder work than I anticipated. Mind if we call it a night?”
Asher glanced at his watch. All of his careful composure had returned. “Sure. I do have some business I should finish up.”
They loaded up the car and drove back in silence. Asher walked her to the door and took her hand. “I'm sorry I upset you. I guess I've never met anyone who challenges me like you do. That doesn't mean I don't like it, though.” He offered an apologetic smile.
“It's all right. Thank you for dinner.”
Lila turned the key in the lock and stepped inside, leaving Asher staring after her with a sad look on his face.
“I really am sorry,” he said.
She nodded and gave him a tired smile before closing the door and leaned against it. Asher had gone to so much effort. It should have been the perfect date, and he was her idea of the perfect man, at least until he started talking. Maybe she'd find him more appealing if he would stop hiding under that facade. She was sure there was someone else lurking under the surface.
With a pang of guilt, she wondered if it had something to do with hiding the pain he had alluded to tonight. But she'd known women who dated troubled men in the way others took in wounded animals. It usually ended in the equivalent of a soiled sofa and a tetanus shot. She would be Asher's friend if she could, but she had to trust her instincts for now. There was something troubling about the way his charm could wash away like a flash flood.
Was it possible that she was just difficult to get along with? She thought about all the heated and embarrassing exchanges she'd had with Max. Those were different, though. He never tried to control her, or pressure her, or make her feel obligated. Not that it mattered now. She was too tired to think any more about it tonight.
When she got to her room she dropped onto the bed without brushing her teeth or even changing her clothes. Maybe her body was finally protesting against all the physical and emotional stress she'd put it through. As soon as the blankets were wrapped around her chin she fell asleep.
Chapter 20
The Pact
Lila woke to a dull thudding coming from downstairs, as if heavy shoes clumped across the floor. The old staircase creaked. She lay stiff and frozen in her bed, barely breathing for fear it would give her away. Possibilities raced through her mind. It was likely that a killer was loose in Auburn. Maybe Carl Snyder found out she'd gone to the sheriff about his argument with Clint. Or perhaps whoever had searched Isaac's house in his absence had returned.
She wracked her brain for something to use as a weapon. What chance did she have against a cop anyway? But it wouldn't do any good to just lie there.
Lila sat up. The creaking stopped. A new sound—closer this time. Scratching, like hundreds of sharp claws around her. She strained her eyes, searching the darkness until she caught the glint of a pair of eyes.
All at once, dozens of shrieking birds flew at her. She flailed her arms wildly as strong wings beat against her face and claws ripped at her skin. Screams choked back into her throat with the rushing air, and loose feathers stuck to her mouth.
Lila rolled off the bed, crashing hard on the floor, and scrambled out the door on her hands and knees. Some of the ravens followed her into the hall. She ducked low as they swooped at her. All at once they darted downstairs. Their cursing echoed through the house.
With trembling fingers, she reached for the handle and quickly pulled the door shut. She crumpled in the hallway, her chest heaving with every breath. Then she remembered the footsteps. Whoever it was must be upstairs now.
A light caught her eye. It hovered in the air at the end of the hall, swaying up and down. The light stopped. When it moved in her direction, there was no blinding beam, as with a flashlight. What was it? She pushed herself toward the stairs, her legs too shaky to stand.
Feeling behind her for the drop-off, she scooted down three steps, fighting to keep control of her muscles. The light continued to move her way, elongating until it resembled a man.
“You?” Lila grabbed the railing and tried to pull herself up, but her legs collapsed. The stairway seemed to go on forever as she tumbled down. When she finally reached the bottom, she pitched forward, smacking her head against a wall.
Stunned, she lay on the floor. There was something urgent she needed to do. Her blurry eyes found the glow at the top of the stairs, and she remembered. Get out.
She pushed herself up and limped toward the door. A pulsating rhythm beat inside her aching head. When she put a palm against it, her hand came away sticky and wet. The sharp, metallic scent made her gag.
The man continued slowly down the stairs.
“What do you want?” she yelled. “You're not getting rid of me.”
The house shook; light fixtures swayed, and dishes tinkled in the cupboards. Lila opened the door and ran outside, slamming it closed behind her. She stood on the porch, her eyes closed, while she collected herself.
When she opened them the world was wrong. She felt as if she were standing underwater, swaying as a current moved against her body. The stars were in motion, like tiny ants or bees. Some of them dove down at her, and swarmed around her face. She swiped at them, trying to concentrate on staying upright as she took a tentative step forward, arms extended to keep her balance.
The confusion in Lila's mind thickened, and she wasn't sure where her feet were taking her. Arms grabbed at her, scratching her limbs with long, pointed nails. A scream escaped her throat. She couldn't be dreaming. In Lila's dre
ams, her screams always came out a helpless breath of air.
She stumbled on, with shaking hands wrapped tightly around herself. Something sharp jabbed at her tender feet. The air smelled of moss and wet, decaying wood. Light danced off the surface of a pond. Water gurgled and bubbled from its depths. It lapped toward her, as if beckoning. It rose and splashed. There was an angry moan, and Old Spice permeated the air around her.
*****
When Lila woke, a pair of dark eyes set in a small, narrow face stared into hers.
“She's awake.”
Max's face appeared. “Lila, I'm here. You're going to be okay.” A hand stroked her face.
She felt herself raised, her face nestled against warm flannel. The world rocked back and forth, then went black.
*****
Lila blinked and looked around. Voices drifted to Ada's upstairs bedroom, but they were just a jumble of words. She knew where she was, but had no idea how she got here. She stared at the wallpaper until the flowers morphed into menacing faces.
The voices downstairs began to take form. Betsy Barker was the loudest. “Max said she was going on about birds in her bedroom and a glowing man? I think you should have called another kind of doctor to the house.”
“That's not kind, Betsy,” said Matilda.
Lila flinched as those memories flashed through her mind. Hadn't it all been a terrible dream? Her fingers touched a gauze bandage where some of her hair had been cut away. She winced at the tenderness of the wound.
“She said other things to Max, too,” Leona crooned. “I know she was out with Asher Whiting, but it's easy to see who she's smitten with.”
Blood rushed to Lila's cheeks. What had she said to Max? She'd never be able to look him in the eye again.
“What did I tell you?” Gladys said.
“Asher's a charmer, for sure,” Ada said. “I've fallen for a pair of blue eyes just like his, and you know where it got me. Of course we all love Max, Gladys. He's a sweet boy, but that ex of his has sure done a number on him. And don't forget, when he came back to check on Lila she told him to go away. I wish I knew what was going on there.”
The Obituary Society Page 13
