Saving Laurel Springs

by Lin Stepp

  Rhea leaned against Carter’s warmth gratefully.

  “Let’s try to sleep for an hour or two.” He sighed. “It might be morning before anyone comes looking for us.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “If it won’t frighten you too much, I’m going to turn the flashlight off, to conserve the batteries.”

  Rhea hesitated, battling fear at the thought, but then sensibly agreed. “Let me hold one of the flashlights, Carter, so I can turn it on if I get scared or hear anything creepy—or if I feel something crawl on me. Okay?”

  He put a flashlight into her hands.

  Rhea doubted she could sleep, but as Carter rubbed her arms softly in the dark, she surprised herself and drifted away.

  CHAPTER 18

  Carter felt Rhea wake a few hours later. Her breathing quickened, and he heard a small moan escape as she realized where she was. He grinned. That last scuttering sound in the side passage probably disturbed her sleep.

  “It was nothing,” he whispered, feeling her shiver.

  She sighed and stretched against him. “Did you sleep any?”

  “Not much.” He couldn’t have slept if he’d tried. Rhea never considered the possibility that Marshall might return—but Carter had. He didn’t relish what that encounter might bring.

  They rearranged themselves to be more comfortable, but Rhea made no effort to pull out of his embrace. Instead, she curled up against his chest more tightly.

  She shivered again and pulled her feet up as another scratching sound echoed in the dark. “I’m glad you’re here with me. I’d be scared by myself.”

  He tucked his arms around her, glad of her company, too.

  The quiet and dark stretched around them.

  Carter lowered his voice. “I want to tell you about Judith.”

  He felt her tense. “Surely this situation is bad enough, without getting into that.”

  Carter ignored her. “This needs to happen, Rhea.” He had her captive attention for once, and he planned to talk about this issue while he could.

  “Do I get any choice in the matter?” Her voice sounded petulant.

  His jaw clenched. “No, not really.”

  “That’s democratic of you.” She crossed her arms in irritation.

  Carter ignored her, considering where to begin. “I met Judith Morgan Benton when I went to Sunnyvale to interview for my scholarship with Cogswell Polytech. It was the time Quest flew me out as one of their final candidates for the work scholarship through the game design program.”

  Rhea muffled a small laugh. “You’d never been on a jet before, and I think you were more excited about flying across country than you were about the interview.”

  Glad she seemed ready to listen, Carter moved on. “Judith was a glamorous, poised, confident woman—and two years older than me. I felt like a real local-yokel boy with her, but she took an odd liking to me and actually helped me get favor with her father.”

  She interrupted. “You always stirred attraction in women that you didn’t fully understand.”

  He passed over her remark, moving on with his story. “When I flew out to California to start college that first summer, Judith met me at the airport. She took me to the apartment I would share with Alvin Johnson, showed me around, and flirted with me. I couldn’t help but notice it.” He sighed. “She was the classic spoiled and pampered wealthy man’s daughter, used to acquiring and manipulating everything to her advantage and used to getting what she wanted.”

  “And she wanted you.” Rhea’s voice floated softly into the darkness.

  “Not really. She only toyed with me as a game—testing me, seeing if she could attract me, playing with me as entertainment. I knew she had no real interest in me.” He took a deep breath. “I intrigued her for a while, probably because I wasn’t interested in her.”

  Carter shifted his position, moving his legs, which felt numb from sitting on the floor so long. “I started school at Polytech and Judith went back to design school over in LA. She came home frequently. Because I worked in the Quest offices and spent many evenings at the Benton home going over development projects with her father, I saw Judith often.”

  He paused, trying to decide what to say. “Judith and I developed a friendship over time. I never acted enamored with her and I didn’t fawn over her like most boys and men. She told me that once. I was totally in love with someone else and in time Judith accepted that. I often told her about you and about Laurel Springs.”

  Rhea sucked in a surprised breath.

  “It’s true, Rhea. Judith knew all about you. Homesick for you and for Laurel Springs, I talked about all I loved and missed. I spilled my heart about my dreams to fix up Laurel Springs and restore it to its old glory. In time, Judith let down her hair with me, too. She played roles so often in her life, acting some prescribed part appropriate for the situation, that she enjoyed having someone she could behave more naturally with. She said she could be more herself with me.” He laughed. “I wasn’t one of her fancy friends, just a plain ole country boy.”

  A small quiet settled between them.

  Rhea relaxed slightly. “What was she like?”

  Carter shrugged. “You saw her picture—a tall beauty with olive skin, dark auburn hair, brown eyes. Men chased after her and she dominated them, and most women of her acquaintance. Like her father, Judith exuded power, had a strong personality and that natural poise, confidence, and sophistication so often found in the ultrawealthy. Judith knew how to move and act with grace but possessed a savvy, smart head for business, too. She always stayed cool under pressure and she had manipulation down to an art form.”

  He paused. “She wasn’t a Christian woman, in the sense we think of it, and she didn’t have a humble bone in her body.”

  Carter sighed. “I didn’t always like Judith. In fact, I often felt sorry for her, which seemed to annoy her. She thought she had everything but she lacked so many of the inner traits that make a person truly beautiful.”

  He pictured Judith in his mind as he tried to explain. “Judith used people, Rhea, and thought nothing of it. She discarded suitors and friends, like out-of-season clothing she tired of. She spent lavishly and frivolously. Although extremely gifted and talented, all her actions and goals were self-centered. I can never recall a time, in those early years, that she put another person ahead of herself. She took from people, Rhea, but gave little in return except in a broad philanthropic sense to enhance her image and give her recognition.”

  He felt Rhea shift in his arms, moving to get more comfortable.

  “It doesn’t sound like you admired Judith much,” she said. “Why did you marry her?”

  Carter tried to think how to explain. “At the end of that first summer after freshman year, I suffered with a bad case of disillusion and disappointment. You’d promised all year to come to California and kept postponing.”

  He heard Rhea blow out an exasperated breath. “That time wasn’t easy for me either, Carter. Dad kept taking turns for the worse in his recovery, developing other health issues, and then he died in the summer.”

  The words pricked his temper. “We see that time differently, Rhea. We talked about this once before. Remember? I felt you didn’t truly love me enough to come, that you put other things ahead of me.”

  He put a hand over her mouth when she started to interrupt again. “Let me tell this.”

  “Fine.” She practically spit out the answer.

  “Judith moved back home that winter of my sophomore year, dropped out of school because of her health. She and her father thought she had mono at first. She tired easily, exhibited weakness, sometimes tripped and fell. Judith exhibited an odd set of symptoms.” He stopped to collect his thoughts.

  “At loose ends, missing her friends, and often bored, Judith worked in the Quest office during this time. Helped out with the business. My best friend Alvin, and most of my school friends, went home for spring break and I found myself lonely and sometimes bored, too. Judith and I talked m
ore. We started hanging out together. Shared lunch, went to the beach.”

  Rhea snorted. “Sounds cozy.”

  “It wasn’t. I whined about you and felt sorry for myself. Judith and I commiserated with each other about our frustrations.”

  “Are you ever going to get to the point, Carter? This story is dragging out more than it needs to.”

  His irritation kindled. “Fine. Here’s the long and short of it. Judith had gone in for a doctor visit after yet another test, trying to see why she wasn’t bouncing back to health. She learned she had ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease. I didn’t know that then, but she told me later before we married that it put her life in fast-forward—changed all her goals. People who get ALS usually die in three to six years. Suddenly, Judith wanted a child, a chance to experience marriage. She knew she didn’t have time to wait for the perfect mate to come along. Her window to bear a child was short, and risky, before the disease progressed.”

  He stopped, reluctant to tell the next part.

  “Go on. It’s obvious to me that Judith saw you as handy and available for her fast-forward plans.”

  Carter gave a disgusted snort. “She showed up and brought me dinner and got me drunk.”

  “What do you mean she got you drunk?” She swiveled to look up at him in the darkness.

  “She brought all these fancy mixers, tonics, and liquor. Whipped up drinks all evening for us to try.” He looked away from her even in the darkness. “They must have been stronger than I realized. I woke up the next day not even remembering what happened but finding Judith in my bed. She just laughed and patted my cheek and acted like it was funny.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “She didn’t own up to me about what she’d done until much later. Then she admitted she’d mixed my drinks heavy to get me drunk, knowing I didn’t have much experience with alcohol. She’d timed our interlude perfectly, too, to her most fertile window, and found some herbs and meds to increase her chances for conceiving. She admitted she’d have done it again if she needed to. But it didn’t prove necessary.”

  “Wow.” Rhea whistled. “That was rotten of her but it was pretty stupid of you, too.”

  Carter shifted in annoyance. “Don’t think I didn’t tell myself that more times than I want to recall. I was naïve and stupid about a lot of things, coming from our little rural neck of the woods.”

  A small rustling noise close by caused Rhea to jump to her feet and flick on her flashlight. “I hate this creepy place.” She shone the light around carefully, moving and stretching while she scanned the dirt passage with her light.

  Carter stood, too, while he had the chance, his legs stiff from the long time against the wall holding Rhea. The light, dispelling the heavy darkness around them, embarrassed Carter, and he turned his face away from Rhea when her curious glance sought his. He hated the pitying look he saw in her eyes.

  She flicked off her flashlight finally, satisfied the area checked out safe, and pulled him down to the boards to sit again.

  Rhea tucked herself up against his side. “Tell me the rest, Carter.”

  “I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.” He stiffened beside her.

  She kicked at him. “If you’d prefer insults and nasty digs, I can come up with a few.”

  He laughed despite himself. “That you can.”

  “So?” She urged him on.

  Carter let his thoughts drift back in time again. “I felt shocked, and scared, when Judith told me she was pregnant. It didn’t seem real.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “Judith acted thrilled, which didn’t make sense to me. I knew her future plans. She wanted to finish school, further establish and grow the fledgling design business she’d started, make her mark as a businesswoman in her own right. She often flippantly told me marriage could wait until later. I’d heard her brag that she’d marry a business magnate one day to increase the family fortunes.”

  Carter sighed deeply. “It took a while for all the truth to come out. All my future was on the line here—my scholarship with the school through Judith’s father’s company, my work with Quest, my relationship with you, my entire future if I married Judith to be a father to my child.” He managed a rough laugh. “Dad and Grampa taught me a man rated worse than a scoundrel who got a girl pregnant and then wouldn’t do right by her, marry her, and be a good father to his child.”

  “When did you learn she’d tricked you—gotten you drunk on purpose?”

  He gave a disgusted snort. “Later, just before school ended and before I’d planned to come home to Laurel Springs for the summer. She and her father had a conference with me in Morgan Benton’s paneled study. Judith told me about her ALS diagnosis and why she’d gotten me drunk to get pregnant. She laid it out as though she’d been thinking of both of us in initiating this plan. As she explained it, we could marry, she could birth a child and heir to the Benton fortune, and I could become a full partner in Quest and Benton Electronics. The child’s future would be assured … and, even though we didn’t love each other, we were friends, she insisted. She flippantly said you didn’t deserve me, after not caring enough to come join me in California. As Judith put it, you deserved to lose me.”

  Rhea gasped. “The nerve!”

  “Judith was never short on nerve, Rhea.” He paused. “I remember her draping herself over the arm of her father’s chair, crying and telling me that if I still wanted to marry you later, I could. She told me specifically how long the doctors said she would live.”

  Carter clenched his fists, remembering his frustration at the time. “Judith’s father’s coldly laid out my financial gain options in participating in Judith’s plans. He also clearly told me that refusing to marry Judith would end my scholarship, my career at Quest, and assure me of never getting to see or know my child.”

  “Would he have done that?”

  His anger surged remembering that time. “Absolutely and without a moment’s regret. All he wanted was Judith’s happiness, for her to have everything she wanted before he lost her. To my favor, Morgan liked me; he said he didn’t mind having me for a son-in-law. He told Judith he thought I could be groomed and trained to be a credit to Quest and the Benton name. The two of them sat there and talked about me like I was a commodity. As though I should be grateful they decided to select me.”

  “Gracious heaven.” He heard her swallow in the dark.

  “That’s pretty much it, Rhea. I could have said no. But I’d have never seen or known my son. You don’t fight someone like Morgan Benton. In shock, I told them both I’d think about it.” He picked up a stick on the floor to twist it in his hands. “When I went back to agree to their terms, I had demands of my own. I insisted on having everything drawn up by an attorney and signed. When you play ball with people like the Bentons, you make sure you protect yourself very well.”

  Rhea fell quiet for a space. “What does Mr. Benton think of you being back here now?”

  “It was in my agreement that I could come back here after Judith died, bring my child, and that Morgan wouldn’t fight me or oppose me.” Carter reached over to touch Rhea’s face. “I never stopped loving you. I never gave up on our dream. Perhaps you’ll still hate me for giving in to Judith and Morgan—feel I should have walked away from them and from my son. It was for my child I stayed. As soon as I held him, I never regretted that decision.”

  In the shadowy darkness, he saw Rhea pull her knees up and wrap her arms around them, thinking. “I probably misjudged you somewhat in the past, maybe a lot, but this still isn’t easy for me. Even knowing everything now.” She punched him with a fist. “I’m mad, too, that you didn’t call—or write—and tell me this when it happened.”

  He winced. “I didn’t think you’d believe me. It sounds like a soap opera drama. We weren’t on the best of terms at that time, and I just didn’t think you’d believe me.” Carter hesitated. “In all honesty, I was angry at you, too.”

  “Why?” She turned to him in surprise.

&
nbsp; Gathering his courage, he said, “Because I blamed you in part for what happened.”

  “Me?” She was incredulous.

  “Yes.” He spoke softly. “I felt that if you’d come to California before Judith came home that she’d never have gone after me. She’d have found someone else to help her fast-forward her dreams, to be the father of the child she so desperately wanted. I felt victimized on both sides.”

  “Ouch—that’s too candid and tends to forget your accommodating role in all this drama, too.” She leaned back and wrapped her arms around herself, as if chilled.

  Carter sagged against the tunnel wall in relief, glad to finally have all this off his chest. To finally see it laid out in the open.

  Rhea spoke at last. “Do your parents know this? And your Grampa?”

  He shook his head. “No. Although I think all of them added up the months to Taylor’s birth and had some suspicions as to why I married suddenly, to Judith and not to you. I believe it shamed them, and so they never really asked me any questions. As Grampa said once, ‘What was done was done.’ ”

  “I see.” She considered this. “Will you tell them now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He turned to look toward her, glad the darkness hid the moment. “I guess I wanted to see how you reacted first. Wanted to see if you’d even believe me.”

  Her mouth quirked in a small smile. He could see it even in the dark. “I believe you, Carter Layman. Even you, with your incredible, highly versatile imagination could never think up a whopper like this. Besides, Judith dying lends credibility to the story. As does Taylor.”

  Carter leaned over to kiss her. “Thanks for believing, Rhea.”

  “Hmmm. I guess this explains why there were so few society pictures of you and Judith, why she still went so many places on her own, even after you married.”

  Carter sighed. “Judith tried to do a lot of living in a very short time, even after we married. I made an effort to be a good husband, even under the circumstances, but I stopped sleeping with Judith when she began to run around on me. She enjoyed a number of lovers before her pregnancy showed, and after Taylor came and she recovered her figure, she sowed more wild oats until her disease progressed. She frantically tried to hold on to life for as long as she could. To do and experience as much as possible. I don’t say I condoned her actions during that time, but knowing Judith as I did, I understood them.”