“We’ve had her for forty years. Elias has promised to have her buried in a cemetery in town. Not in their family cemetery and we’d move her from ours.”
“This is ridiculous!” He stood and quickly sat back down when the blood rushed from his head. “She’s not moving.”
“You don’t have any say,” his father said as he walked out of the kitchen.
Eric stood, fighting off the nausea that was setting in, and followed his father. “You’re just going to walk away?”
“I didn’t expect you to understand. But I don’t need your permission either. So if you want to visit her before they move her, you have three days.”
“Three days? When do I need to move out of here? You might as well uproot my whole life while you’re at it.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “Then maybe you’d better start packing.”
“You’re giving up? What’s done is done? No one is going to fight Elias Morgan for the land that grandpa bought outright? You’re not going to fight to keep your wife on your own land? What about the cattle that’s dying? What about my business and the horses I lost? I’m not going to just let this lie. Someone is pushing me off my land and out of my house and now I wonder how much you know about it.”
“Eric, again, this isn’t all about you.”
“Like hell it’s not.”
His father’s eyes misted over. “I won’t let anyone suffer.”
“Except me.”
His father shook his head, but said not another word before opening the door and walking out to his truck. When his father had driven away, Eric looked down at the blood soaked towel. The huge gash on the side of his hand wasn’t going to heal with just a Band-Aid.
Eric went in search of his truck keys. As manly as he thought he was, and as tough, he knew he needed to get to town and have his hand stitched. The thought of being in town was making him even more nauseous. The last thing he wanted was to be around people.
Susan immediately popped into his mind and he let out a groan as he moved toward the fireplace and carefully worked to extinguish the fire. At this very moment, when having a woman in his life should be top priority, especially after he told her he thought he loved her, he realized he didn’t even want to see her. There was no one, except a doctor with a thread and needle that he wanted to see.
Maybe he could tough it out. He’d been hurt enough times in his life this wasn’t any different. Hell, he had plenty of scars. But the cut throbbed and reminded him this was different.
Trying to maneuver his left hand around the steering column to turn the key was harder than he thought it would be. Well wasn’t that the story of his life? Everything suddenly had become much harder than it needed to be.
Chapter Twenty
Though the day hadn’t quite worked out the way Susan had hoped, she was very content sitting in the living room with a cup of tea.
Bethany bounced her head to the music on her iPod as she stretched doing her bedtime routine. Susan felt bad for her. As far as she knew, no one in Bethany’s family had reached out to her in the past few days since she’d been there. Susan’s mother had called three times in the past few days and so had her sister. Why was it so hard for families to communicate?
Bethany let out a long breath as she unfolded herself from her mat and stood tall stretching her arms over her head.
“When are you going to join me?” she asked as she opened her eyes and took the earbud out of her ear.
“One of these nights,” Susan said sipping her tea.
“Yeah, when you’re not shacking up with my cousin.”
Susan smiled. “A week ago if you told me I’d be sleeping in the arms of a man I would have laughed at you.”
“At least you picked from the right side of the family.”
It was unmistakable, the sadness in her voice. “I think you’re part of his side,” she said. “Aren’t we going to dinner at the same house tomorrow?”
“Yes.” Bethany rolled up her mat and then folded herself into the oversized chair next to her. “Do you think my father will ever accept me? Or my brothers and sisters?”
Did she think Susan had an actual opinion on this or was she simply asking to ask? “I don’t know. I don’t understand the dynamics of your father’s side of the family. But it does seem that right now they are all a bit out of sorts and perhaps in time everything will work out.”
“How can you be so optimistic?”
Susan shrugged. “I don’t know. Because my family has overcome everything.”
“And your father gambled away other people’s livelihood?”
Susan felt the sadness in Bethany’s statement sink into her gut. “No.”
“I’m not sure what he’s done can be fixed and I hope that it doesn’t tear you and Eric apart.”
Was that a possibility? That heaviness turned from sadness to pure panic. She should have thought about it a little harder before she began sleeping in his bed.
It was a typical pattern wasn’t it? A man loses someone close to him and he turns his attention to someone outside of his family to cope? Then his animals die and he needs comfort.
Susan’s hands began to shake.
She thought about what he’d said to her. That “L” word had surfaced and now what was she supposed to think about it?
With a glance at the clock on the bookshelf, which had been a gift from her own grandfather, she noticed it was already past ten o’clock. Sure, Eric had showed up on her doorstep even later, but she had been sure he would have at least called after his father left this morning.
That wasn’t fair. Wasn’t she busy once she’d returned home? She’d been menu planning for her meeting with Lydia. She’d Skyped with her mother and they’d talked about visiting her in Georgia. They’d talked about Eric and her mother was very intrigued in him.
Bethany had gone to the grocery store with her and they’d decided on what to take to dinner at Glenda’s tomorrow. Susan was going to make a decadent red velvet cake. Bethany had settled on a bouquet of flowers for the centerpiece.
The man needed his space. That was something that was hard for her to ever understand. Her ex-husband had needed his too. Perhaps that’s why she was now so worried about the future of this new relationship. Her ex-husband often chose that solitude over time with her. He’d hike for days. He’d camp with a daypack and sleep under the stars, which was something that didn’t thrill her. How often did he take off on his bike and not come back for days?
She’d taken it personally. But it had been personal—to her.
Why would her husband need his space like that? And now why did Eric?
She gripped her trembling hands together. Again, this wasn’t fair to Eric to get upset over. She’d fallen into the new relationship just days ago. His grandfather had only passed a week ago and here she was getting too emotional over him.
He needed his space and damn it she was going to give it to him and not get sentimental over it.
Tomorrow she was going to head out to Lydia’s and go over the plans she’d been working on. Perhaps she’d walk out with a contract. That would make the evening even sweeter. Then she’d head out to Glenda’s for dinner.
He’d appreciate her giving him the space he needed. She could be the woman who didn’t need constant attention. She could offer up that condolence when he needed it, the passion when it consumed them, and silence when the situation demanded it.
It was new. She couldn’t put her whole heart into it yet—but the truth was she had. In the past four days, she had fallen head over heels in love with Eric Walker. If he walked out of her life, she might actually crack, no matter what she’d just told herself.
He’d call her tomorrow, she told herself as she unfolded herself from the couch.
“Going to bed?” Bethany asked.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t upset you with what I said did I? About my father tearing you and Eric apart?”
Susan shook her head. She�
��d nearly forgotten what had set her head into that tailspin.
“No. I have a lot to fit into tomorrow. I need to sleep.”
“I’d be happy to drive us out to the Walker’s tomorrow, in case you want to stay.” She gave her a wink.
“That’ll be fine,” she said walking out of the room and up the stairs, her stomach still tight from the fear that everything was going downhill.
~*~
Eric’s thumb throbbed beneath the gauze wrapped around it. He felt like an idiot with three stitches from a broken dish. Even worse, the nurse had commented on having been the same one who stitched up his little brother. He’d wanted to get in and out of the hospital without conversation. No one needed to talk his ear off and try to be friendly. Eric hadn’t been feeling particularly friendly.
He’d driven by Susan’s house while he was in town, but her car wasn’t there so he drove home in his pathetic mood. Sleep hadn’t come easily. A pain pill helped, but not enough.
When he crawled out of bed, he faced the dishes from breakfast the morning before, still sitting on the table and in the sink. This certainly wasn’t anything he wanted to deal with. At a moment like this, he’d like to have gone out to Whisky River and taken him out to the fields.
Because he’d already been feeling betrayed and unloved, he drove out to the cemetery to visit his mother. Her presence was there and he could feel her when he’d visit. The one thing he needed most was his mother right now.
The flowers by his grandfather’s grave were only beginning to wilt. He wondered how long it would be before the headstone was in place. Now he wished he’d brought his mother some flowers. There had never been a time when he’d come to visit with her when he hadn’t brought them to her.
For a long moment, he stood there and just stared at the stone with her name on it. “Why do they think you need to be moved?”
The clouds pushed together and blocked out what sunlight there had been. Figured, he thought. It was a dark time.
“Met a girl,” he said as he moved to tuck his hands into his front pockets only to remember that the one throbbed at his side. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Know it sounds stupid, but I think I love her. Wish you could meet her.”
The urge to spend more time with his mother had him lowering to his knees and then to the ground to sit. The soft ground gave beneath him, but it didn’t matter. Some days he just needed to be near her.
“They’re going to move you and I’m pissed. I’m really pissed,” he bit out the words as a cold breeze blew through the cemetery. “I think it should be my choice—no one else’s. I don’t know what Elias has over Dad, but he’s caving. They’re killing my horses, my cattle, and pushing me off my land. Now they’re moving you. Dad says no one will suffer, but I’m suffering.” His voice had risen even alone in the cemetery.
Eric winced at the pain in his hand as much as the pain in his heart. “If this is a sign to start over, I’m not ready.”
The thought of Susan moved into his mind and calm took over the pain he’d been wincing from. Maybe it was time to start over.
He let out a long breath.
He always found clarity when he came here. This moment was no different.
But he needed to hear it from Elias. He needed to know why his mother had to be moved. Why was this land so damn important to him that he’d take it back in such a way?
The sun moved from behind the clouds, which had gathered, and a single ray of sunshine seemed to cascade over his mother’s name.
“I’ll visit you no matter where they put you. Even if they put you on their property—I’ll trespass.”
He pushed to his feet. Elias Morgan needed to answer some questions and Eric was going to get them face-to-face.
Chapter Twenty-One
The road leading to the Lydia Morgan’s house took Susan out a dirt road even longer than the one that led to Eric’s. She couldn’t help but feel as though she were nearly parallel to the other road.
This one was graded better and she hadn’t been tossed around quite as badly. As she crested the last small hill in the road, she noticed the house.
Her breath caught in her lungs as she took in the sight. This was exactly what she thought a huge Georgia estate house would look like. Who was Lydia Morgan?
Susan caught a glimpse of the fascinated smile on her mouth in the mirror. Perhaps she hadn’t bid this job quite high enough. She amused herself with the thought.
Pulling into the drive, she pulled through the loop in front of the house and parked.
Before she even stepped out of the car Lydia was opening the front door and walking toward her.
“You found it okay?”
Susan smiled as she stood. “I did. I’ve been out this way quite a bit, actually.”
Lydia only nodded. “Welcome. Come in. My grandfather is just inside and would love to meet you. Then we can discuss the catering.”
Susan pulled her bag from the car and shut the door. “This is beautiful.”
Lydia smiled. “It is. I’ve lived out here most of my life. She shrugged her shoulders. Since my father died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“My grandfather was very kind to take us in.”
“Don’t you ever want to live in town?”
Lydia looked around as if to make sure no one was around. “I do. Someday the time might be right. Right now doesn’t seem to be that time,” she said, smiling sweetly.
Susan knew enough to let that lie for a bit. It did cross her mind that Lydia and Bethany might be kindred souls. After this job maybe she’d set up a coffee date for the three of them. The thought intrigued her.
Lydia opened the front door to the house and led Susan inside. She stopped as she crossed the threshold. The house was as grand inside as it was out. “Wow,” she said the word before she even realized it. “Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house quite this ornate.”
The chandelier that hung in the entry was majestic. The floor was white marble and the wood was a rich cherry. A grand staircase came down both sides of the entry. What a girl wouldn’t give to be a bride on those stairs, she thought.
“My grandfather is in his library.”
Library. Houses really had those?
As Lydia walked down the hall, a man came toward them. He was tall with a familiar gait to him. He carried his hat in his hand and raked his other hand through his hair. When he lifted his head, Susan caught the gasp before she expelled it. The man had a very striking resemblance to Eric.
“Tyson,” Lydia said to get the man’s attention. He raised his head and looked at her as if he hadn’t seen them. “Everything okay?”
The man, who had obviously been in some kind of fight, winced. “Don’t ask. Who’s she?”
Lydia narrowed her gaze on him. “This is Susan Hayes, the caterer.”
“Right. Nice to meet you.”
Lydia shook her head. “My brother Tyson,” she offered.
“Nice to meet you, Tyson.”
“Yeah.” He looked back at Lydia. “Where is Grandpa?”
“In the library. We’re headed in there now.”
“I’ll wait then.” He placed his hat back on his head.
Lydia touched his arm. “Something happened.”
“Six more cows,” he said gruffly and walked out of the house.
Lydia sighed. “Sorry about that.”
“Is everything okay?”
She smiled, but Susan could see the tension in it. “Things are a little tense out here right now. No worries. Right this way,” she said entering another room.
Susan looked around. This, in fact, was a library. She wasn’t sure she’d seen many bookstores with this many books in it.
“Grandpa, Ms. Hayes is here,” Lydia said softly to the man seated in the oversized leather chair.
He turned his head and locked his stare on her. She felt her heart stutter as he kept his gaze on her.
He stood and crossed to her. �
��You’re the caterer?”
“I am,” she said confidently holding her hand out to shake his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You come highly recommended.”
“I appreciate that. I’d love to know who…”
“Lydia, you two head to the office and finish your business. I’ll be at the barn.”
“Tyson is looking for you,” Lydia said softly.
“I thought he might be.”
Mr. Morgan left the room and Lydia seemed to deflate. “Follow me.”
Susan followed her further into the house to a large office. The walls were lined with bookshelves made of dark cherry, which matched the rest of the house.
“Please, have a seat. I’m sorry for the attitudes of all the men around here today,” Lydia said as she shut the thick door. “There is some transitioning going on and a lot of tension.” A crease formed between her brows. “I hope that doesn’t affect our business dealings. I would hate to have you go.”
“I’m fine,” Susan said smiling. “Believe it or not a lot of my work is performed in tense situations.”
“You did Mr. Walker’s funeral, correct?”
“I did.”
Lydia nodded. “That’s where I got my referral. I didn’t tell my grandfather that though. He and George Walker were not what I’d consider friends.”
“I see. Well, I work under a veil of confidentiality. I understand. Should we look at the menus I’ve designed for you?”
~*~
Eric had worked to be calm. Obviously the last time he’d ventured out to the Morgan’s house it hadn’t gone well. This time he was going to be ready to just speak to the man. No curses. No punches. No yelling—or so he told himself.
He kept the speed of the truck at fifty-five so as not to look like he was coming for a fight. He just wanted answers.
The ornate gate to the house glittered in the sun, which had finally come out and melted away the clouds. Eric clenched his jaw and drove through.
Walker Pride (The Walker Family Book 1) Page 14
