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The Lost Daughter of Pigeon Hollow

Page 8

by Inglath Cooper


  “Yeah, well. Some of them were hard to forget. And she can’t exactly take them back, can she?”

  How many times had Willa wished she could erase all the things their mother had said? Rewrite some of the ugly comments she had made to Katie when her grades weren’t as good as Willa’s or she didn’t learn to ride her bike as quickly as Willa had.

  But she couldn’t take them back, couldn’t erase them. And she feared that Katie was going to let her hurt direct the rest of her life.

  “What happened last night,” Willa said, “I never intended for it to turn out like that.”

  Katie kept her gaze on the feed scoop, dipping and dumping in an even rhythm. “What makes you so sure you know what’s right for me, Willa?”

  “I don’t know, Katie,” she said. “I’m just trying to prevent you from making a mistake there’s every chance you’re going to regret.”

  Katie looked up, her expression set. “I’m not going back home with you, Willa.”

  “You have to go back to school—”

  “I’m going back to Pigeon Hollow. But I’m not going home. And I’m not going back to school.”

  Willa stared at her sister, saw the determination in her eyes and felt the pull of frustration in her own inability to reach her. “Katie! Eddie shot at us last night. He could have hit—”

  Katie dropped the scoop, glaring at her. “If you and Owen whoever-he-is hadn’t kidnapped me in the middle of the night, none of that would have happened!”

  “Is that really how you see it?”

  “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re off the hook, Willa! I don’t want your help!”

  The feed-room door opened. Jake, the man Owen had briefly introduced Willa to earlier, stuck his head inside, nodded at Willa and then looked at Katie. “You about done with those?”

  “Just a couple more.”

  “I got some hungry horses out here.”

  Katie nodded.

  Jake came in, picked up a half-dozen buckets, then disappeared out into the aisle.

  Willa put a hand to her forehead and pushed her hair away from her face. “We’re going to be staying a little while,” she said suddenly. “I’m not sure how long.”

  Katie didn’t look up from her task. Made no response whatsoever except for the stiffening of her shoulders.

  “Owen said dinner is at seven,” Willa said and walked out the door.

  * * *

  SHE WENT BACK TO HER ROOM, not passing anyone in the house as she went. She pulled a few items of clothing from her suitcase and took them over to the room where Katie was staying. Back in her own room, she dropped onto the bed, suddenly exhausted.

  Sam curled up on a corner of the Oriental rug, nose to tail, and closed his eyes.

  She reached for the phone on the nightstand, dialed the diner number. Judy answered.

  “How is everything?” Willa asked.

  “Everything’s fine here,” she said. “What’s going on with you?”

  Willa stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Did you meet him?”

  “Yeah, I—” The words caught in her throat, and she couldn’t answer.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “He…died this morning.” Tears slipped down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.

  “Willa. Dear heaven. I’m so sorry.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Funny how things work out, huh?”

  Judy was silent for a moment, and then said, “At least you did get to see him. I’m so glad you went.”

  “So am I,” Willa admitted, realizing suddenly that it was true.

  “How’s Katie?”

  “That’s another issue altogether,” she said on a sigh. “I think it might be good to keep her away a little longer. This whole thing with Eddie has gotten out of hand. Maybe a few days here will give her time to clear her head.”

  “Don’t worry about the diner. I’ll take care of the place.”

  “I owe you so big, Judy. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “I’ll call soon.”

  “Bye, hon.”

  Willa clicked off the phone, then dialed information for Principal Keating’s home number. When the answering machine picked up, she left a message telling him that she had taken Katie with her on an unexpected trip out of town. She also told him briefly about Katie’s refusal to return to school, and that she was hoping some time away would help her see what a mistake that would be. She would call again to talk about the possibility of Katie’s attending summer school to make up what she would miss.

  Willa hung up then, closed her eyes and wondered again how so much could have happened in such a short time. Katie, Owen, her father.

  Owen. He had been unbelievably kind to her today. Granted, he’d been close to Charles, and no doubt felt obligated to steer her through this. Had she imagined the connection between them? And last night when he’d kissed her…

  She closed her eyes, settled on the memory and let it slide her into sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WILLA WOKE JUST BEFORE SIX that evening, although she could have slept through until morning, but forced herself to get up and take a shower. It helped, and she felt awake enough to function.

  She put on a sleeveless dress, light blue with a scooped neck, pulled her hair back in a ponytail and dusted some face powder over the shine on her nose. Pink lipstick. Done.

  She left Sam snoring softly on the rug in her room, then knocked at the door across the hall. When Katie didn’t answer, she went downstairs.

  Voices drifted out from the main living room. Owen and her sister stood by the stone fireplace, talking. Katie was smiling.

  Willa stood there for a moment, too off-balance to know what to say.

  Owen waved her forward. “What can I get you to drink? Katie’s having iced tea. I’m having a little red wine. Would you like some?”

  “That would be nice,” she said.

  Katie’s smile disappeared, and in its place settled the sullenness that had become her hallmark expression.

  “I was just telling your sister about some of my escapades as a teenager and some of the chores Jake came up with to occupy my mind as he liked to put it.”

  “Like what?” Willa asked.

  Owen picked up the wine bottle from a table on which sat glasses and a small bowl of cashew nuts. “Let’s see, there was the time I turned the tractor over because I floored it going through a big mud puddle. I didn’t realize there was a hole in the middle of it. Left a heck of a dent in the front end, not to mention I could have killed myself.”

  Willa glanced at Katie who was looking at Owen as if he’d suddenly transformed into the current MTV sensation.

  “That’s a little hard to picture,” Willa said.

  A handsome young man in a wheelchair appeared at the entrance to the room. He wore a white T-shirt that read Dave Matthews Band, Nissan Pavilion. “So this is where the party is,” he said.

  Owen smiled. “Willa, you haven’t met my brother, Cline.”

  “Hi, Cline,” she said, stepping forward and sticking out her hand.

  “The other pretty sister.”

  Willa glanced at Katie, startled to see her blushing. She looked back at Cline and said, “I see this family didn’t run short on charm.”

  Louisa stepped into the room behind him and waved a hand. “Dinner is ready.”

  “Thank you, Louisa,” Owen said.

  They followed her to the dining room where an incredible spread of food had been laid out on the buffet against one wall. An enormous terra-cotta bowl held a salad made up of baby lettuce, walnuts and roasted pears tossed in an olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing. Another oversize dish held hot-from-the-oven lasagna, slightly browned cheese bubbling on top. A basket of warm bread sat to the side. The competing smells of yeast and garlic made Willa suddenly weak with hunger.

  “We’re in for a tre
at,” Owen said. “Louisa, I see you’ve made Cline’s favorite.”

  The dark-haired woman laughed a pleased laugh. “His true favorite would be a hamburger and French fries, but I try to do a little better by him than that.”

  Cline smiled and said, “You could cook old tennis shoes, and they’d taste good.”

  Louisa all but beamed, then dropped a kiss on Cline’s head on the way out of the room. “Flattery, flattery. That’ll keep the chocolate-chip cookies coming.”

  They filled their plates and moved to the table. Owen held a chair for Willa and Katie.

  “There’s one of the drawbacks about being in a wheelchair,” Cline said. “Dad taught us the same manners. I just have a little more trouble implementing them.”

  Willa noted the flash of surprise in Owen’s eyes.

  The remark cast a net of discomfort across the remainder of the meal. They ate in relative silence.

  When she finished, Willa put a hand to her stomach. “That was so good.”

  “I’m sure there’s some dessert around here somewhere,” Owen said. “Would you like some?”

  “No room,” she said, shaking her head.

  “How about a walk then?”

  “That sounds nice. I’ll get Sam. He’ll need to go out.” And then, to Katie, “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Don’t worry,” Katie said. “I’m not planning an escape. For tonight, anyway.”

  Willa went upstairs and let an ecstatic Sam out of the bedroom.

  Owen stood outside the house, waiting for them. “I’m sorry about dinner,” he said. “Cline isn’t normally one for sarcasm. I’m not sure what’s going on with him.”

  A three-quarter moon hung in the sky, draping the evening in light. Sam trotted off, tail wagging.

  “He’s in heaven here. Too many good smells.”

  “Horse manure, plenty of rabbits, a squirrel or two. Pretty good setup for a dog.”

  “I noticed you don’t have one.”

  “Yeah,” he said, blowing out a whoosh of air. “I lost mine about six months ago. A chocolate Lab I’d had for fourteen years.” He was quiet for a moment. “It still hurts to think about him. Maybe I’ll get another one someday. But not yet.”

  The words were etched with a barely concealed sadness, and Willa felt as if she’d just glimpsed some part of him he didn’t often let others see. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine losing Sam. There’s something about losing a dog—”

  “Yeah, I know. Dogs love in a different way, don’t they? Heart and soul.” Silence, and then he said, “Sam doesn’t seem quite as worried about me now.”

  “I think he’s decided you’re okay.”

  “My shin thanks him.”

  Willa smiled. “Did you grow up here?”

  “I did,” he said.

  She glanced out at the bold lines of white fencing, at the enormous old oak tree to the right of the barn. “I can’t imagine being able to look at this every day.”

  “I do love it. Growing up, it was just home. When I moved to New York City for college, I realized how much I didn’t want to stay away forever. I was sort of like a cowboy boot in a store full of handmade Italian loafers. Never really fit in.”

  They walked down a gravel lane that ran between two pastures. To their right, a group of young horses grazed. They raised their heads and trotted to the fence. Owen stopped, leaned against the top fence board, reached out and stroked the neck of the closest one.

  “How old are they?” Willa asked.

  “Yearlings. All fillies here.”

  “How does this work?”

  “We’re a commercial breeder. We breed to sell at auctions like Keeneland.”

  She put her elbows on the fence. “Did this start with your father?”

  “Grandfather.”

  “How do you determine which mare to breed to which stallion?”

  “Horses with speed tend to pass the trait along to their offspring. You try to match the best with the best.”

  “It must be interesting to see how they come along.”

  “It is.”

  “They’re beautiful animals.”

  “With incredibly big hearts.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “You love what you do.”

  “For the most part. Like any industry, there are things I’d like to see changed.”

  “Such as?”

  “Up the starting age for racing. Give the horses more time to develop.”

  “Think it ever will?”

  “Sad fact? Probably not.”

  Willa reached out to rub the muzzle of the young horse closest to her. She heard the sincerity in his voice again, liked what it said about him. “If it’s all right with you, I think we’ll stay a few days.”

  “It’s more than all right.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “For your generosity. For everything.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. I’m really sorry about what happened today.”

  “At least I had the chance to meet him. You were right about that. I’m glad I came.”

  “Good,” he said on what sounded like a note of relief. “I thought you might regret it with the way things turned out.”

  “No,” she said. “The opposite.”

  They stood there, shoulder to shoulder, nearly touching. They were silent for a while, just watching the young fillies graze, a passing cloud dimming the moonlight across the green field.

  “I talked to Katie a bit before you came down,” he said finally.

  Willa stared at her feet. “She was actually smiling when I walked in the room.”

  “She seems like a good kid.”

  “Underneath all that rebellion, she is.” Willa turned around, her back against the fence, looking toward the house. “When she was a little girl, she was the sweetest child. She always had a smile for everyone, and she thought I—”

  “Walked on water?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Hurts like heck when that changes, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t have to be like that again. I just wish I could get through to her somehow.”

  “Maybe being here will take some of the pressure off you. Give her a chance to see things with new eyes.”

  “At the least, it’ll keep her away from Eddie for a while.” She dropped her head back. “I can’t even stand to think about her going back to that place with him.”

  “Do you think she really would?”

  “Right now, yes.”

  “One day, she’ll thank you for getting her out of there.”

  Willa stared at her feet. “Hard to believe that. And besides, I should be thanking you.”

  “I didn’t exactly want to see her stay there, either.”

  She turned and found his gaze on her face. They studied each other for a few seconds before she dropped her own gaze. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to Cline?”

  Owen propped an elbow on the fence, ran a hand through his hair. “He was in a skiing accident. We were coming down for the last run of the day. He hit a patch of ice and skidded into a tree.”

  Just the words made Willa’s stomach drop. “Oh, Owen, I’m so sorry.”

  “He was twelve,” Owen said. “He’d been ready to quit for the day, and I asked him to go up with me for one more run.”

  It was impossible to miss the blame in his voice. “You don’t think you’re responsible for what happened, do you?”

  “Maybe that’s a little too simple. I guess regret is more accurate. I don’t know. He’s just so young. There are so many things he hasn’t done.”

  Willa thought about the brief interchange between the two brothers earlier at dinner. Owen had his own struggles to contend with, and yet he had stepped in to help her with Katie.

  “He seems like a very smart young man,” she said. “I know his life isn’t going to take the path it might have taken without his accident. But maybe in some ways, it will be a better path.”

/>   “Do you really believe that?” he asked.

  There was no sarcasm in his voice, but genuine interest, as if he cared what she thought. “I believe God has a plan for each of us. That sometimes it doesn’t intersect with the one we lay out for ourselves. But maybe in the end it gets us to a better place.”

  He looked at her, appreciation in his eyes. And she thought how nice that was. Really nice.

  * * *

  ONCE OWEN AND WILLA HAD GONE outside, Cline left the dining room, murmuring something about some studying to do. Despite the obvious lack of invitation, Katie followed him to the office where she’d stumbled across him earlier that day.

  He headed straight for the computer, ignoring her. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled by her presence. She was willing to overlook it; there was every chance she would dry up and die of boredom any second.

  He hit a few strokes on the keyboard, moved the mouse and clicked on something.

  Katie stood in front of the desk while he continued to ignore her. “Isn’t there anything fun to do around here?” she finally asked.

  “Depends on what your definition of fun is,” he said without taking his eyes off the computer.

  “I’m open to suggestion.”

  He looked up at her, his blue eyes direct. “I hate to disillusion you, Katie. But your act isn’t all that subtle.”

  She blinked, feeling the lack of compliment in the comment. “Who says it’s an act?”

  “You should take it on the road. You’ve got the badass rebellious teenager down to a pretty convincing note.”

  A little whirl of anger funneled up inside her. She’d known a long list of arrogant guys, but this one took the cake. She folded her arms across her chest. “So what’s up with that?”

  “What?” he asked, back to his pecking and clicking.

  “You don’t even know me, and you’ve already slapped a label on me and tied it up with a ribbon and bow.”

  He settled his gaze on her then, gave her a long look without saying anything.

  She looked away, her cheeks warm. It occurred to her that she’d blushed more in this one day than she had since she was thirteen. She didn’t know much about paralyzed people, but she wondered if he had normal feelings like other guys.

 

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