The Lost Daughter of Pigeon Hollow

by Inglath Cooper

  “I have no way of knowing whether we will have actually met or not. But it is my sincere hope that we did. And that as you’re watching this, you might have some understanding of how very much I wish I could go back and redo a few things in my life. One of them would be to insist to your mother that I had a right to know you. The other would be to somehow try to make up for the fact that you grew up without a father. I can’t do either of those things now. But you are my daughter, and since I haven’t been there for you while I was alive, maybe I can be of some help with your future. I leave to you the sum of two million dollars.”

  The two sisters gasped in unison, a mutual sound of outrage. Willa looked at Natalie. Her expression was blank.

  Willa felt as if the world around her had been turned upside down, nothing recognizable from her current viewpoint. She needed air. Had to get out of here. “I’m sorry,” she said, and fled from the room.

  * * *

  OWEN CAUGHT UP WITH HER outside. She leaned against the Range Rover, arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to hold some terrible pain inside.

  “Hey,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Can we go?” she asked, looking shaken.

  “Don’t you want to finish in there?”

  “I don’t belong here.”

  “I think you clearly do. Willa, he wanted you to have that.”

  “Two million dollars. He didn’t know me. How could he—”

  He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed even as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and give her the comfort she so obviously needed. “All I know is what little he said to me when he asked me to come and see you. He had spent a good deal of time thinking about you, and I don’t know why he didn’t do it sooner, but he really wished that he had.”

  “I can’t go back in there now,” she said, wrapping her arms more tightly about herself.

  “You’re shivering.” He did pull her to him then, telling himself it was what any friend worth his salt would do.

  She leaned into him, pressed her face to his chest. He could feel her tears through his shirt. He rubbed her back, and felt a tenderness for her that did not seem logical given how long they’d known each other.

  But then from the moment he’d set eyes on her, there had been something different in her effect on him.

  He held her until her breathing grew even, and she leaned back to look up at him. He brushed her cheeks with his thumb. “It’s okay if you want to leave. I’ll just go tell Natalie.”

  She nodded, closing her eyes for a second, and then, “Thank you.”

  He opened the Range Rover door, waited for her to slide inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THEY HAD JUST PULLED OUT of the driveway onto the main road when Owen picked up his cell phone and punched in a number.

  “Hey, Jake, it’s me. Can you reschedule that sales meeting this afternoon? See if tomorrow morning will work.” He paused. “Katie still with you? Good. Willa’s with me. We’ll be back later.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Willa said when he’d hung up.

  “What you need is a little escape from reality. Come to think of it, I could use one myself.”

  Willa started to protest.

  But for once, it was nice to let someone else be in charge.

  They drove for a good while without talking. The county roads became more rural, more space appearing between the houses. He turned onto a small state road that led to a marina. A few trucks sat in the parking lot, boat trailers hooked behind them. Owen parked and came around for her door.

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” she asked.

  “Not yet,” he said. He took her elbow and steered her toward the marina entrance. A small store sat at one corner of the dock. Boats were moored alongside. A Seadoo sat at the gas pump, a young boy filling it up with gas.

  The sign above the store door said, Welcome to Tiner’s on Lake Altmore.

  An older man wearing a bill cap with an open mouth bass on the front stepped out and said, “Well, look what the cat drug in. On a weekday, no doubt.”

  “Hey, Artis. Meet my friend Willa.”

  “Hello, Willa,” he said, sticking out a sun-browned hand, his smile revealing bright white teeth.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “Likewise. Owen taking you on a tour of the lake?”

  “I’m not exactly sure.”

  Artis smiled. “Well, he picked a good day for it.”

  Willa looked up at the sky and then out at the glistening lake beyond the marina’s no-wake buoys. The sun sat high, a few puffy white clouds the only concession to imperfection.

  “Got any food in there, Artis?” Owen asked.

  “You know it. Go on in. Madge’ll fix you up. I need to pump some gas.”

  The smells inside the store were mouthwatering. A woman, fiftyish, wearing a head full of pin curls and a mumu-style housedress stood behind the counter of the grill, putting together a row of sandwiches. “Hey, Owen,” she said.

  “Madge. How’s life treating you?”

  “Can’t complain. Who’s this pretty girl you got with you?”

  “Willa Addison. Willa, Madge Tiner.”

  They exchanged smiles. Madge wiped her hands on the front of the white apron tied at her ample waist. “What can I get you?”

  “A picnic,” Owen said. “Can you put something together for us?”

  “I’d be delighted,” she said.

  Owen winked at her. “Thanks, Madge. We’ll get the boat ready while you’re doing that.”

  Madge smiled at Willa, giving her a look every woman instantly understands. He’s something, isn’t he?

  Outside, they followed the walkway to the far end of the dock. A row of boats sat parked there, the closest one a long red number, the kind that when wound out sounded as if it had a jet engine under its hood.

  Next to it was a pontoon-style houseboat. Owen passed the speedboat and stepped onto the pontoon.

  Willa stopped, eyebrows raised. “The speedboat’s not yours?”

  Owen looked back and grinned at her. “You persist in those stereotypes. I’m getting a lot of enjoyment out of proving you wrong about me.”

  She smiled, couldn’t help herself. “Have to admit. Not what I expected.”

  “I call it my thinking boat. Anytime I’ve got something to work out, this is where I come.”

  Across the cove, a young boy threw a Frisbee into the water. An exuberant yellow Lab barked and sailed off the dock after it. A neon-orange Seadoo steered around the swimming Lab.

  “It’s great,” she said.

  “Step aboard. Make yourself at home.”

  Willa looked around while Owen got everything untied and opened up. The cabin was spacious with a sofa and two club chairs.

  Tucked into a corner, a bookshelf held a collection of hardcover novels. She climbed a set of stairs that led to the upper deck. Two yellow-and-white lounge chairs beckoned. She sat down in one, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The warm sun felt glorious. Within a few minutes, the engine started, and they began to pull away from the marina. The boat idled toward open water, and as soon as they passed the no-wake buoys, eased into full throttle.

  The lake was beautiful, the water a dense blue-green. Big, expensive houses lined the shores, and then began to thin out, until the waterfront consisted only of pastureland with cows grazing on green grass. The boat began to slow until they were idling into the back of a cove. The engine shut off, and there was a splash of something that sounded like an anchor hitting the water.

  A few moments later, Owen appeared at the top of the stairs. “My favorite spot,” he said, sitting in the chair beside her.

  “It’s so peaceful.”

  “I know.”

  They sat for a while, faces tipped to the sun, absorbing the calm. The stress of the morning drained out of her, as if an internal plug had been pulled.

  “I’ve
got a change of clothes downstairs. Bathing suits are in the closet off the bathroom if you’d like to try one.”

  She looked down at the pantsuit she’d worn that morning, started to say she was fine, and then changed her mind. Why not?

  Owen showed her where to go and then left her to sort through the half-dozen swimsuits, most with the tags still on. She chose a modest one piece, black with a matching, short tie-around skirt.

  Barefoot, she padded back out to the front of the boat where Owen had already changed into a pair of stylishly baggy swimming trunks and a white T-shirt.

  He looked at her and said, “Wow.”

  A blush heated her face. “I won’t even ask the reason for your department-store selection.”

  He had the grace to look chagrined. “No one’s ever looked that good in any of them.”

  He picked up a couple of white paper bags from one of the boat seats. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said.

  They climbed the stairs to the upper deck. Owen spread out a quilt, and then began pulling food from the bags. They ate turkey sandwiches on thick slices of homemade wheat bread with bright red tomatoes and Swiss cheese. Drank iced lemonade with fresh slices of lemon floating on top. The finale, two enormous slices of coconut-cream pie.

  When they were done, Willa leaned back on two hands and closed her eyes. “I may sink if we actually try to swim.”

  “A fine meal, but I’m not sure it holds a candle to your place.”

  She looked at him. “Thanks.”

  “Are you missing it?”

  She took a moment to answer. “Actually, it’s been nice to get away. The diner was my mama’s place, and—”

  “You’ve been filling her shoes?”

  “In a way, I guess so.” Willa stared at her empty glass.

  “What did you study in college?”

  She hesitated, and then, “Premed, believe it or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t I believe it?”

  A self-conscious shrug. “I didn’t finish my last year. When Mama died I needed to be there for Katie.”

  “That’s pretty admirable,” he said.

  “Not really. I’ve had my bouts of poor-me.”

  “Still admirable.”

  She met his gaze, disconcerted by the intensity in his eyes. “Haven’t you done the same thing for Cline?”

  “That’s a little different,” he said. “What happened to him shouldn’t have happened. And if I hadn’t—” He broke off there, shaking his head.

  “So you do blame yourself,” she said.

  He was quiet for a few moments, his gaze set on the distant shoreline where a group of cows grazed. A white goose waddled along beside them.

  “Sometimes it’s hard not to,” he said in a soft voice.

  Sympathy squeezed at Willa’s heart. She understood what it was to feel responsible for something that couldn’t be changed. “My mom…she had a really hard time giving birth to Katie. She went through a lot of depression afterwards, and I don’t think she ever really let herself bond with her. As Katie got older, it didn’t get any better. And I don’t know why exactly, but she never showed Katie any kind of…love. So I tried to give it to her. But kids are smart, and when Katie realized that Mama treated her differently from me, things changed between us.”

  “And Katie’s directed her anger at you?”

  “I guess she had to direct it at somebody.”

  “Doesn’t really seem fair though, does it?”

  “A lot of things aren’t fair. They just are.”

  He studied her, blue eyes intense. “How’d you get so wise?”

  “School of hard knocks.” She shook her head then. “I guess I just realized at some point that all we can really do in this life is try to make it better from where we stand right now. We can’t change what’s already been done, no matter how much we want to do so.”

  He considered that and then said, “Sometimes I wish Cline would blame me.”

  “Would that really make anything better?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, and they sat there for a while, the quiet strangely comfortable. A flock of geese flew over in a perfect V, their wings flapping in a rhythmic whoosh. A baby calf mooed for its mama, running across the field to find her.

  “You want to talk about what happened this morning?” Owen asked, breaking the silence.

  Willa said nothing for a moment, and then replied, “Two million dollars. I can hardly conceive of that much money.”

  “Don’t you think you deserve it?”

  “No. I guess I don’t.”

  “Most people could find something to do with that kind of money.”

  “That’s not the problem. My house has a laundry list of ailments. My car is on its last leg. The diner needs a face-lift, not to mention floors that are nearly worn through and a roof that leaks. But that doesn’t mean I can accept it.”

  “He wanted you to have it.”

  “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “To whom?”

  “To Natalie. And did you see the look on his sisters’ faces?”

  “Priceless, wasn’t it?”

  “Owen, it’s not funny.”

  “Sometimes people get caught with their greed showing. I think Charles would have been amused by that.”

  “In their defense, I am something of a surprise.”

  “And it was your father who died. Your father who wanted to leave you something.”

  “It’s kind of ironic,” she said. “Right before you came to Pigeon Hollow, Judy asked me what I would do with the money if I won the lottery.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Silly stuff. The idea was too far-fetched to take seriously.”

  “But this is the real thing.”

  “I don’t think I can let myself believe that.”

  “Sooner or later, you’ll have to. For now, what do you say we go swimming?”

  She brightened at the suggestion. “It’s not too cold?”

  He stood, offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. “One way to find out. Come on.”

  She followed him to the side of the boat. He threw one leg over the rail, stood on the ledge, teetering.

  “You’re not really going to—” she began, just as he executed a perfect cannon ball into the water below.

  He surfaced immediately, waving her in. “Chicken!”

  That did it. She climbed over the rail, jumped, and landing right beside him, came up sputtering a couple of seconds later. He wiped the water from his face. “Pretty good,” he said.

  “Pretty good?”

  His smile was teasing, and they stared at one another, treading water. The sun warm on her back, Willa was suddenly, intensely, aware of something right and special passing between them. She started to say something, to break the moment.

  But he put a finger on her lips and said, “Don’t. Let’s just let it be, okay?”

  She looked into his eyes, saw the warm attraction there, felt its reflection somewhere inside her own heart. And let it be.

  * * *

  KATIE SPENT THE AFTERNOON helping Jake plant grass seed in a field being converted to pasture. She rode on the arm of his seat in the enclosed cab of the big green John Deere tractor. A week ago, she would have declared just the idea of riding around with somebody in overalls lamer than lame.

  But there was something about being out here under a clear blue sky, bouncing along on the level ground, the smell of freshly turned dirt in the air, that made Katie glad Willa had forced her to come here. Not that she would admit as much to her sister.

  She thought about Eddie, knew he wouldn’t recognize her like this. Wondered then if it really mattered. Eddie was pretty much a loser. From this distance, even she could see that.

  Jake stopped the tractor, letting the engine idle. He reached beneath his seat, pulled out two Mountain Dews and handed her one. He wasn’t a big talker, but there was something about him that Katie found comforting. Like a gr
andpa was supposed to be. As if he’d been around a long time, had seen a lot of things, and not much got past him.

  It was almost four o’clock when Jake headed the tractor back to the barn. “Feeding time,” he said.

  “Can I help?” she asked.

  He pulled under a shed and cut the engine. “I’ve got a better idea. Cline usually goes swimming after school in the indoor pool. Why don’t you go keep him company?”

  “He swims?” Cloaked in astonishment, the question was out before she could edit it.

  Jake smiled. “That boy’s got more than a few surprises up his sleeve.”

  “I don’t have a swimsuit,” Katie said, doubting that Cline would want her there anyway.

  “I believe there are some extras in the dressing room just off the pool. Go on now. You’ve been a good helper this afternoon. Time to have some fun.”

  She climbed down out of the cab, then looked back up at him. “Thanks, Jake.”

  He gave her a meaningful look. “And don’t get any ideas about running off.”

  “I won’t!” She jogged up the lane toward the house. The funny thing was, she didn’t even want to.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WILLA AND OWEN SPENT the rest of the afternoon in the water, floating on the oversize rafts Owen pulled off the houseboat. It was a day Willa knew she would never forget. The cove so peaceful and quiet, they might have been the only two people on earth.

  They talked. Staying away from serious stuff now. Just bits and pieces of each other’s lives, forming a picture of who the other one was.

  There were some major differences. He had gone to Columbia University; she had received a partial academic scholarship to the University of Louisville. He’d grown up surrounded by wealth and status. She had not.

  But somehow, here in the quiet of this lake, none of it seemed to matter. What mattered was the connection between them, the sense that it wasn’t something that came along every day.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Owen turned his float so that they were face-to-face.

  “Depends on how personal,” she said, dragging her hand through the water and letting it slip through her fingers.