Jessie smiled at Caitlin and nodded. “Thank you, dear. Yes, you’re right, Doris. I’d almost forgotten about Violet. She had such a sharp tongue. Do you know what happened to her after she ran away with the vacuum salesman?”
Doris shook her head. Her gaze lost focus, as if she was traveling down the twisted path of her memories. “One minute she was here and the next she was gone. I’m sure she made up half of the stories she told to cover her own indiscretions.”
Jessie nodded solemnly. “You’re probably right, but that was a long time ago.” Her gaze focused on Sally. “You’ve got so many books in front of you. What are you doing?”
“Grading my student’s workbooks. I’m working at the animal shelter tomorrow, so this is the last chance I’ll get to catch up.”
“It must have been so distressing,” Doris said. “The man at the wedding must have given you a terrible fright.”
Before Sally had a chance to reply, the doorbell rang and Molly walked into the café.
“How are my lovely grannies doing?” Molly asked in her sing-song accent.
“We’re very well.” Doris smiled at her favorite Irish immigrant. Molly had taken some beautiful photos of Doris and her family. Ever since the grand unveiling, Molly had been elevated to special friend status. “Have you heard from the Gallery in Los Angeles?”
Molly shook her head. “Not yet, but they haven’t had my portfolio for long. How are you today, Jessie?”
“My arthritis is causing me some concern, but other than that I’m as fit as a fiddle.”
“Let me know if I can help with anything.” Molly slid into a chair beside Sally and gave her a knowing glance. “Did I rescue you?” she whispered.
Sally nodded. “What are you doing here? You’re normally working on Saturday afternoons.”
“Weekend off. I’ll be back in a minute.” Molly walked across to the big glass cabinet beside the front counter. She pointed to a cake and Sally almost groaned.
A slice of cake on its own wouldn’t have been so bad. But when Molly came back to the table, an equally large blob of cream was on the plate, too. It was a dieter’s worst nightmare.
“Tess’ wedding isn’t far away so I’m not going to offer you any,” Molly said. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing okay. I’ve only got half the workbooks left to grade.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. Todd has been gone for weeks now. How are you feeling?”
“Like a part of me is missing.” Sally had been doing everything she could to keep busy. Alastair had been assigned to another case. She hadn’t heard from Detective Munroe or the local Police Department for so long that the last month could have been a bad dream. Between The Bridesmaids Club, the animal shelter, and school, her life was just as full as it had always been.
She stared at Molly’s plate, wondering if a little cream really counted on her diet. It was, after all, a product derived from a cow. It was a healthy, honest, food group, somewhat processed by human factors.
“If you stare at my cake for much longer, I’m going to buy you one.”
“Sorry. I’m practicing avoidance therapy.”
Molly smiled. “You’re substituting Todd for cake?”
“No. I’m substituting my mixed up life for cake. What was I thinking? He’s still in love with his wife. No one can compete with those kind of memories.”
“What about creating new memories of your own? If Todd can’t let go of the past, that’s his problem. You’re young, you’re beautiful. What more can I say?”
Molly filled her mouth with more cake and Sally sighed. She was right. Deep down in her bones, Sally knew there was no use hanging onto what could have been. Todd Randall had other things on his mind. The sooner she moved on with her life, the better she’d be.
“The painters have finished his house. He’s even had the builders propping up the old barn.”
“Whose barn?”
“Todd’s. Matt Harvey is Todd’s neighbor. He’s looking after his animals while he’s away. I took some photos of their ranch yesterday. According to Matt, Todd will be home in a couple of weeks.”
Sally finished her mug of coffee. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
“Just this…” Molly leaned forward and held a fork of cake and cream out to Sally. “Live dangerously. A little cake is good for the soul.”
Sally smiled and ate the cake. Molly was almost right. A little cake was good for the soul, but so were good friends.
She had a great life. If Todd Randall didn’t want to share it, then that was his problem.
***
Todd sat in his truck, staring at the black metal gates surrounding the entrance to Worland’s only cemetery. Fear and something much deeper kept him in his truck, stuck between the past, the present, and the future.
Max whined from the passenger seat. His paw knocked against the door, thumping loudly in the silent cab.
“Okay, boy. We’ll get out, but stay with me. No running.”
Max barked once when Todd opened his door. With his leash attached to his collar, Max was good to go. Todd couldn’t say the same thing about himself.
He walked through the entrance, past the graves of the founding families of Worland, past the headstones of people long dead and forgotten. Max pulled on his leash, but Todd held firm. He kept Max beside him, as much out of respect as need.
The wide asphalt driveway beckoned him forward, pulled him deeper into the manicured lawns and well-maintained grounds. Trees, bright with Fall leaves, had been spaced at regular intervals along the driveway. They softened the view, gave the illusion that something lived and flourished within the walls of the cemetery.
He remembered the day they’d brought Emma and Josh here. It had been cold. A wind as bitter and cruel as the men who’d killed his family, had risen out of nowhere. They’d stood, shivering in layers of clothes, under a tree that offered no shelter.
After Emma and Josh’s bodies had been laid to rest, after the last prayers and tributes had been said, everyone left. They trundled back to their vehicles with heavy hearts and frozen hands. Todd had stayed, wrapped in a grief so deep that he barely felt the freezing wind whipping through his jacket. He’d said goodbye for the last time, knowing he’d never be back.
Or so he thought.
Max kept a steady pace beside him, holding onto the streak of adventure that usually pulled him away. They turned left, entering the newest part of the cemetery. The graves were closer here, pushed together out of necessity. Stone and marble headstones sat shoulder to shoulder, more decorative than the older graves.
Todd tried not to pay too much attention to the names and dates, the photos that made him sad. He’d never asked Emma about what she wanted when she died. They’d been young, full of hope and excitement. They were going to grow old together, build a life they’d look back on with pride.
He looked at where he was and walked toward a white cross with red lettering. Bernard Davies’ headstone marked the row where Emma and Josh were buried. He stopped and stared down the walkway. He could see their heart-shaped headstones from here, the marble roses that would be in bloom for the rest of eternity. A part of his heart broke all over again.
Max looked up at him, his brown eyes big and bold, wanting to know why they’d stopped.
Todd took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Let’s go, boy.” They kept walking, passing the men and women who’d died around the same time as his family. He wondered if there was a place in heaven for the people buried here to meet each other. Josh would have giggled his way through the introductions, lighting up the sky with his cheeky grin. Emma would be her bubbly self, flitting from person to person in case someone felt left out.
He tried hard to remember their faces, the feel of their skin, the touch of their hands. But all he could see were the images stamped into his brain from the family photos they’d taken. Images that were as still as the bodies buried in the ground.
He
stopped in front of their graves and pulled a handful of tissues out of his pocket. He wiped his eyes, blew his nose, and tried to find some good in all the grief choking his heart.
Emma Jane Randall and Joshua Neil Randall had changed his life. After their brutal murder, he’d almost given up believing in a higher purpose, a reason why everyone was born. But maybe, if he looked deep enough, he’d say their purpose had been to make the world a better place. They’d touched more lives than they knew, loved unconditionally and with such joy that it took his breath away.
At the end of the row of graves a brown post rose out of the ground. A faucet had been bolted to the top, and someone had left a bucket and an old cloth beneath it. Todd walked across to the faucet and wrapped Max’s leash around the post.
Max sat down. His eyes followed Todd as he went through the same ritual that generations of people had done before him.
Todd held the bucket under the faucet, watched the cold water gush into the plastic container. He went back to his family’s graves and wiped the dirt and dust away. His mom would have called it Spring cleaning. He could only call it sad.
He filled the flower containers either side of their headstones with water. With clumsy fingers, he pushed the stems of the roses he’d brought with him into the round holes. Emma would be laughing at his feeble attempts to make the flowers look pretty. They didn’t look as good as she would have done, but she wouldn’t have minded.
He kept two small bunches of roses to one side. His grandparents and great-grandparents were buried here, too. He’d visit them next, pay his respects to people he’d never known, but had shaped the person he was.
He untied Max and led him back to Emma and Josh’s graves. They sat on the grass and Todd took a deep breath. He started to tell Max stories about his family. Things he thought he’d forgotten spilled out of his heart, brought tears to his eyes, and made him cry.
Max leaned his head on Todd’s knees, soaking up the sunshine and Todd’s tears with quiet acceptance.
When his tears had gone and the stories had finished, Todd sat quietly with Max. The empty spaces inside of him were filling with something he never thought he’d feel. His heart swelled with love, with acceptance, and with gratitude for what he’d shared with his family.
Emma would understand what he had to do next. As hard as it was, he needed to move on with his life.
Max whined and Todd stroked his back. “Not long now, boy.” He took his wedding ring off and held it in the palm of his hand. The gold shimmered in the afternoon sun, made him smile as he remembered Emma trying hard to push it over his knuckle on their wedding day.
He held the ring tight and closed his eyes. He could feel Emma’s arms around him, holding him, telling him it was okay to let go. The tightness in his chest eased and a weight fell from his shoulders.
He took his pocket knife out of his jacket and kneeled between Emma and Josh’s graves. With careful strokes, he cut a small square of grass from in front of Emma’s headstone. He placed the ring in the soil and thought about their lives together.
When everything he needed to say had been said, he covered the ring and put his hands on top of his wife and son’s graves. “I’ll always love you,” he whispered.
He stood up and Max leaned against him. “Come on boy, we’ve got some more people to visit.” Todd picked up the extra roses and walked away from his family.
But this time he knew he’d be back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Are you sure this is the right color?” Sally looked inside the paint bucket and grimaced. The animal shelter was this year’s recipient of their elementary school’s fundraising play. Sally was on prop-painting duties, but the green grass she was supposed to be painting didn’t look very green. “It doesn’t look like grass. It looks like brown soil.”
Rachel stood beside her and groaned. “That’s the color we’re painting the toadstool stalks.” She looked at the wooden platform Sally had started painting. “We can make it work. I’ll find the right color and we’ll…” she waved her hands in front of Sally’s face.
“Blend the paint?” Sally asked.
“Exactly,” Rachel said. “Next week’s spelling bee is going to my head. I can’t remember basic words, but ask me how to spell Pre-Raphaelite and I’m an expert.”
Sally patted Rachel’s shoulder. “Hang in there. When the school play is over this will all be a dim and distant memory. You can do this.”
Rachel nodded across the room at her arch nemesis. “Bill seems to be enjoying himself.”
Sally watched as he climbed a ladder, adjusted a light, then waved to someone at the back of the auditorium. If he wasn’t such a stickler for following the correct procedures, he would have been an all right kind of guy.
“Don’t worry about him,” Sally said confidently. “He’s not going to win the Teacher of the Year Award.”
“You don’t know that.” Rachel flicked her gaze back to Sally. “Or do you? Spill the beans, Gray. What do you know that I don’t?”
A teenage boy, all gangly legs and freckles, put another bucket of paint in front of Sally. “Mr. Hedges said to bring this to you.”
Sally looked at the outside of the bucket and smiled. With a name like leafy green it couldn’t be anything other than grass colored paint. “Thank Mr. Hedges very much.”
The young boy nodded and ran back across the room.
Rachel frowned. “Tell me what you know about the Teacher of the Year Award?”
“I’ve heard Bill hasn’t entered.”
Rachel gasped. “Not true. He always puts his name forward. He’s been first runner-up for the last three years.”
Sally shrugged her shoulders. “It’s what I heard. My source is impeccable.”
Rachel put the lid on the brown paint and looked at the label on the other bucket. “I’m not even considering the possibility. I’ll pour the green paint into the tray for you.”
Sally moved her brush and roller out of the way. “What do you want me to do after I’ve finished the platform?”
“Sean and Matthew should have finished making the trees by then. Find them and you can paint the leaves.”
Sally started rolling the new paint onto the platform, blending the two colors before it was too late. “I still can’t believe you got Sean and Matthew to help.”
Rachel grinned. “It was all of the free food that changed their minds. Your brothers have a soft spot for muffins.”
Sally knew that was part of it. The other part was the fact that their little sister was there. Since Alastair had left, they’d practically stuck like glue to her at the weekends.
“Oh, no,” Rachel groaned. “Tiffany’s brought all of the costumes in here. They’re going to get ruined.”
Sally smiled as Rachel sprinted toward the main doors. They only had this weekend to get everything ready for next week’s play. Children from each class were bringing the poems of A.A. Milne to life under the glare of the spotlights.
“Do you want a hand, or is this a Gray family production?”
Sally dropped her roller on the drop cloth and said a very unladylike word.
Todd arched his eyebrow. “You’ve expanded your vocabulary since I left. Did Rachel teach you that word?”
“Rachel knows you’re here?”
“She saw me when I came in.” He held a clean roller in the air. “She said you might need a hand to paint the grass.”
Sally looked at her paint splattered coveralls and then at Todd’s clean jeans. “It’s not a job for the fainthearted or improperly dressed.”
Rachel rushed past them, throwing a pair of coveralls at Todd. “Can’t stop. Emergency in progress.”
Todd caught the parcel before it hit him in the face. “I believe that’s called service.”
Sally picked up her roller and started painting the wood in front of her. “When did you get back to Bozeman?”
“A couple of hours ago.”
She blended the two paint colors wi
th absolutely no idea of what she was doing. Her heart rate had shot into the stratosphere and her hands were trembling. She gripped the handle of the roller tight in case it fell out of her hand. “Did you have a good drive back?”
Todd ripped open the plastic bag containing his coveralls and started pulling them on. “It was okay. We only needed to stop three times for Max.”
Sally felt bad. She hadn’t thought about Max. Her number one concern had been the man getting dressed in front of her.
“Everything okay over here?” Matthew looked between Sally and Todd, a ferocious glare gathering in his over-protective eyes.
“We’re fine,” Sally said. “Have you put the trees together?”
Matthew blinked at her, as if constructing a giant oak tree and baby saplings hadn’t occurred to him. “It’s under control.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asked patiently.
Matthew pointed toward the back of the stage. “Sean’s putting the branches…” He stared hard at his brother. “He’s made coconut leaves. I can’t believe he thought the Thousand Acre Wood is full of coconut trees.”
Matthew walked to the front of the stage. “What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “They’re supposed to be oak trees.”
Sean yelled back. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Matthew threw his hands in the air and vaulted onto the stage.
“I guess they’ve got some changes to make,” Todd said.
“I guess so,” Sally muttered. She felt prickles of awareness skitter along her nerves. Todd was looking at her, watching every move she made. It was enough to make her run for cover.
He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if we share the same paint tray?”
“Um…no, that’s fine. Just blend the icky brown color with the new one.” Sally moved half a step sideways so they weren’t standing too close. They worked in silence, painting the platform in no time at all. Or so it seemed to Sally.
Head Over Heels (The Bridesmaids Club Book 3) Page 19
