by Irene Brand
He was emotionally drawn to Laurel, but was he cut out to be a husband? A mental flash reminded him of a wild mustang trapped behind a fence. He liked the freedom to do what he wanted to when he wanted to, without considering anyone else. But if he was around Laurel much longer he was bound to do something foolish. Should he cut his ties with Oaklawn and find another apartment?
“Out of sight, out of mind,” he’d always heard. If he didn’t see Laurel anymore, his obvious attraction to her would soon fade. But was leaving her the coward’s way out? Wasn’t he man enough to withstand his feelings for Laurel? Why leave a convenient apartment because he couldn’t control his emotions?
“Loaf one day and work hard the next one,” Laurel thought as she knelt on the linoleum floor putting a new coat of paint on the kitchen cabinets. Yesterday with Micah had been the most wonderful time she’d had for years. His quiet, understanding manner had calmed her worries, but once she was away from him, she couldn’t get the frightening call and letter out of her mind.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the screen door, and her hands shook as she laid the brush carefully on top of the can. Her hand clutched her pulsing throat, wondering if her harasser was at the door. She’d taken the precaution of locking the screen door so no one would catch her unawares.
Last night she’d had a dream—more like a nightmare—when she thought someone was watching her. She’d whirled around, and a masked face was peering in the window at her. She’d awakened with the terrible feeling that she was trapped.
The knock came again, and she grabbed hold of the sink top to pull herself up. She remembered a quotation she’d read a few days ago— “We must travel in the direction of our fear.” She wiped her hands on a damp cloth, muttering a Bible verse that she’d memorized this morning. “God has not given us the spirit of fear—but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
If God hadn’t given her the spirit of fear, then she wished her legs knew about it. On trembling knees, she moved toward the door. Her breath caught in her throat, and oozed out in a sigh of relief when she saw Cousin Kevin.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t at home,” he said. “Debbie told me you’d gone off for the day yesterday with Mr. Davidson, but I thought perhaps I’d mistaken the day.”
Unlatching the door, she said, “We were away yesterday, so I’m working extra hard today.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t bother you.”
She thought he’d already bothered her and wished he’d called, letting her know he’d wanted to stop by. But she said graciously, “No. Come in. I need to take a break. We’ll sit in the kitchen, if you don’t mind. I may have paint on my shoes, and I don’t want to track up the rest of the house.”
“The kitchen is fine,” Kevin said, with a smile. “Maybe I can beg a cup of coffee?”
“Of course. Sit down.” Laurel washed her hands at the sink. Sniffing, she said, “The paint smell is pretty strong. Maybe you’d prefer sitting on the porch?”
“No, I’m all right. The paint smell isn’t offensive—just a nice clean scent.”
She set two cups on the table and reached in the refrigerator for milk. She drank her coffee black, but Kevin preferred a drop or two of milk in his cup.
“I made coffee cake for breakfast. Would you like a slice?”
“That would be great. Actually, I skipped breakfast this morning.”
Laurel served Kevin a large portion of the cake and sat across the table from him. She never had to do much to entertain Kevin, since he liked to talk about his work. She sipped slowly on her coffee. After the death of his wife, he and his two girls always came to Oaklawn for Christmas and other holidays while his children were growing up. Now that his children had married, he spent the holidays with them.
After he finished the cake, Kevin got up and poured another cup of coffee from the carafe near the sink.
“You’re a good cook, Laurel. That cake was delicious.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, with a smile. “But you’ll have to give Betty Crocker most of the credit. All I did was mix an egg and some milk with the dry ingredients and put the batter in the oven.”
“Then thanks to both you and Betty,” he said affably.
When he settled back in his chair, apparently with no notion of leaving, Laurel got up, put the paintbrush in a jar of water and tapped the lid in place on the paint can.
“A client has approached me to find out if you’d be interested in selling Oaklawn.”
“What! Who?”
“I can’t answer your question, as the client wants to remain anonymous. That’s the reason he came to me instead of contacting you personally, but I assure you the offer is on the up-and-up.”
“You know I can’t sell Oaklawn. Debbie’s grandparents deeded the property to me when they died, because she wasn’t of age, and they thought that was the best way to handle it. I’m surprised you didn’t tell your client that the estate isn’t for sale.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t feel I had that right without asking you. I know you’re having quite a struggle to keep going here.”
“Would you want to see anyone other than Coopers owning the estate? After all, it’s part of your heritage, too.”
“Oh, I’m flexible about these things. Since I don’t have a son, and you have only Debbie, Oaklawn will eventually go out of the Cooper name anyway. Debbie should have been a boy.”
Was this the cause of the harassment? Did someone want to buy Oaklawn, and they were trying to scare her away so they could get the property at a low price?
Kevin cleared his throat nervously, and he stammered a few times, which surprised Laurel, because he was never at a loss for words.
“There is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, Laurel. The time has never seemed right, but now that Debbie is leaving and you’re going to be alone, I’ve wondered if the two of us might get together.”
Laurel stared at him. She’d never suspected that he had any romantic interest in her. How long had Kevin been entertaining such thoughts? Then as he continued, she decided it wasn’t romance he was interested in, but a way to continue the Cooper line.
“Well, what I mean…we aren’t too old yet to…well, to have some children together. If we’d get married, both our problems would be solved. I have the finances to help you with the upkeep of Oaklawn, and if we had a son, the property could stay in the Cooper family.”
Laurel’s eyes narrowed a little, and she felt her dander rising, because she was angry as well as amused. She didn’t want to offend Kevin, but she thought he was completely out of line.
“In your plans, Kevin, you’re overlooking one very important point,” she said sharply. “My in-laws left Oaklawn to me for the sole purpose of passing it on to Debbie. Yes, Debbie, not some other child I might conceive, even if the child was a Cooper. And even though Debbie is going to change her name when she’s married, she was born a Cooper, and she’ll remain a Cooper until the day she dies.”
“How do you know she’ll ever want to live here?”
“I don’t know that. If she doesn’t, she can sell Oaklawn. I certainly won’t place any restrictions on her.”
“Finding a buyer for a place like this isn’t easy.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You just said you have a potential buyer.” Laurel supposed she should be happy to have a chance to get out from under the burden of Oaklawn. However, faced with the thought of leaving the place that had been her home for more than half of her life, she knew she was tied to this home with cords that couldn’t easily be broken.
“You’ve spent a lot of money on this place and there will be constant upkeep as the years go by.”
“That will be Debbie’s problem, not mine. All I need to do is keep Oaklawn in good shape until she decides what to do with it. As for having a child, if you think, at my age, that I’d enjoy being pregnant, having morning sickness, and start nighttime feedings, diaper changing, potty traini
ng and all the other ‘joys’ of parenthood, you must be out of your mind. If I had a son today, I’d be drawing Social Security by the time he finished college.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know that, but you should be able to see what a ridiculous idea it is.”
“Then that means you won’t marry me.”
“Of course not,” she said indignantly. “I realize you think it’s a probable solution to my financial problems, and perhaps it is, but you’re too much like family for me to marry you. Just go on being my friend and cousin—that’s what I need from you.”
“It was just a thought,” he said, with only a minimum of regret sounding in his voice.
He held out his hand and she placed her hand in his.
“No hard feelings?” he asked.
“No. I’m flattered. I thought I was past the age when I’d receive a marriage proposal.”
He laughed slightly. “You might be receiving lots of proposals now that Debbie is getting married.”
As he took his leave, she wondered if that had been the reason he’d proposed. Was he afraid she would marry someone else and bring him to Oaklawn to live? She waved goodbye, bemused over Kevin’s suggestion.
Laurel returned to her painting. Absentmindedly, she smoothed the pale yellow enamel over the wooden doors. When she glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost noon, she knew she’d have to wake Debbie soon. After working sixteen hours yesterday, she was no doubt plenty tired.
But about the time she finished painting, she heard water running and knew that Debbie had gotten up. She cleaned away the paint things and prepared a tomato and cottage-cheese salad for their lunch. She stirred lemonade mix into chilled water and set it in the refrigerator. While some leftover vegetable soup simmered, she set the table in the dining room, rather than eating their lunch with the smell of paint all around them.
Debbie, looking neat and lovely in the short red skirt and white blouse uniform she wore at work, yawned and stretched when she came into the kitchen.
“Still sleepy, honey?” Laurel asked.
“Yes, I am, but I’ll be more awake once I start eating.” When they sat at the table, Debbie asked, “How was your day yesterday?”
“Wonderful! We saw the most interesting old brick house, and the owner is a dear person. After Micah finished his photographs and interview, we drove on to Gatlinburg and looked around a little before we had dinner. I hadn’t been home more than an hour when you came in.”
“So we were both night owls, huh?”
“Late hours won’t hurt me once in a while.”
As they ate their meal, Laurel told Debbie about the Kilroy home and more details of their day.
“What else is new?” Debbie asked, as she lifted a spoonful of steaming soup to her mouth.
Mischievously, Laurel said, “I received a marriage proposal this morning.”
Debbie’s soup went down the wrong way. She choked and reached for her glass of lemonade.
“Who from? Micah?”
Amazed that Debbie had immediately jumped to that conclusion, Laurel protested, “No! I hardly know the man. It was from Cousin Kevin.”
“That surprises me even more,” Debbie said, clearing her throat. “Marrying him would be about like marrying your brother, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s what I told him. And don’t think he’s harboring any passionate feelings for me. He suggested a marriage of convenience—he’d have the money to keep up Oaklawn, and I’d provide him a son who could inherit the property.”
“You’re kidding!”
Laurel held up her right hand. “Scout’s honor! I rejected his offer and reminded him that you’re the one who will inherit Oaklawn.”
“He knows that as well as you do. Why would he suggest such a thing?”
“He has a client who wants to buy Oaklawn. That may have prompted his concern. Perhaps he was worried I might sell the estate out of the family.”
“Did he name the potential buyer?”
“No, a matter of client/attorney secrecy.” Laurel drummed her fingers idly on the table. The phone rang, and she jumped.
Debbie said, “I’ll get it,” but Laurel shook her head and rushed into the kitchen. As much as possible, she intended to screen all calls. Soon, with an inward feeling of relief, she gave the phone to Debbie.
After a brief conversation, Debbie clicked the Off button on the phone and laid it on the table.
“That was my friend, Ashley. Her car is in the garage and she wants me to pick her up and take her to work.”
Glancing at the clock and noting that Debbie didn’t have to leave for over an hour, Laurel said, “I’ve never asked you this, so I will now. Do you think you’ll ever want to live at Oaklawn? Or would you prefer to sell the place and invest the money in a home of your own?”
Debbie chewed slowly on a cracker before she answered.
“I don’t know, Mom. As far as I’m concerned, Oaklawn is yours as long as you live. You make the decisions of whether to keep it or sell it. Right now, Oaklawn is home to me and will be, no matter where I move to. But it’s home because you’re here. If you were no longer living, I don’t know whether I’d ever want to live in the house.”
Touched by her daughter’s devotion, Laurel’s throat was a bit tight when she answered. “Well, it isn’t a decision we have to make now. I have no intention of selling Oaklawn or of marrying Kevin. I thought it was a ridiculous suggestion, and I told him so.”
“But Mom, the idea of you marrying again isn’t a bad one. I feel terrible to go off and leave you here alone, and I’d like to see you married. So if you do fall in love with someone, I’m all in favor of it.”
“Thanks for telling me. I won’t marry someone just because I’m lonely and want a companion. But if I find someone to love, I’ll certainly consider it.”
She’d married in haste the first time because her grandmother was dying, and she’d wanted to see Laurel settled before she died. She had learned to love Jason, but she hadn’t when she agreed to marry him. She was interested in Micah, but she didn’t know if she loved him. But it was good to have Debbie’s blessing if she should decide to remarry.
Chapter Seven
Micah had mixed emotions about his interview at the college. There were advantages to having a nine-to-five job, but it distressed him to even consider giving up his active, rigorous, stimulating lifestyle without ties or obligations. But the past year, he’d sensed something was missing in his life—that there was more to life than fame and adventure. Since he’d started reading the Bible, he’d realized that part of his problem was spiritual. But he’d been dissatisfied for several months before he came to Tennessee.
He had two hours before his appointment at the college, and he set out for a walk to the river. When had his dissatisfaction started? As he strolled, feeling a slight breeze on his face, and the sun warming his back, he dated his discontent to almost two years ago, before he’d gone to South America. One of his nieces was being married, and since he was between assignments, he’d gone to the wedding. It was the first time he’d been with all of his immediate family for years, and he’d felt like a fifth wheel. His two sisters and his brother were all married and had families that totaled thirty-six. Over two hundred people attended the wedding, because his sister and brother-in-law, as well as his niece and her new in-laws, had many friends.
Not only had he remained single, but he hadn’t even gathered many friends. He hadn’t stayed in any one place long enough to get close to anyone.
He’d soon be fifty, and he had no illusions that he wanted to start a family of his own. It wouldn’t be fair to children to have a father old enough to be their grandfather. His only option was to acquire a ready-made family like Laurel and Debbie. Since he’d been at Oaklawn, he’d noticed the close relationship and affection between them and had wondered what it would be like to be the recipient of such devotion.
Why had he been drawn to Laurel more
than other women he’d met? She had a quick mind, and she faced her problems with courage and resolution. She was tenderhearted but hot-tempered. Her fiery temperament appealed to him. And when her well-shaped mouth curved into a quick smile of repentance after her anger passed, he was hard put to keep from snatching her in his arms and kissing her. Such an action wasn’t to be considered until he was confident he could “stay in the harness once he got hitched,” as one of his Western cronies often said.
Returning to his apartment, he saw Laurel working in the flower garden. With her back to him, she was on her knees pulling weeds and spraying the roses. He leaned on the fence, watching her for a few minutes. Once, her hands stilled at her tasks, and she looked across Oaklawn’s borders to the mountains beyond. From the rigid set of her shoulders, he knew she wasn’t observing the beauty of nature.
He didn’t want to startle her, so he quietly retraced his steps. When he was out of sight, he started whistling. Arriving at the fence the second time, Laurel looked his way.
“Good morning,” he said. “You’re up early.”
“It’s going to be hot today, and I wanted to do some yard work before the sun’s rays reach this corner of the garden. Have you been walking?”
“Yes, to the river. I have some things to do in this area today, so I didn’t have to start out early.”
He didn’t know why he didn’t tell her that he might start working at the college. He supposed it was because he wasn’t used to telling his plans to anyone. This was another thing for him to consider. After being a bachelor for years, would he be able to take anyone wholeheartedly into his life?
“I’ve finished what I planned to do. Do you have time to come in for a cup of coffee?”
“No, I can’t now, but I’ll take a rain check on the invitation.”
She smiled brightly at him, as if she didn’t have a care in the world, but her expression often changed from bright to cloudy in a moment. He wished he knew the reason for her rapid mood swings.
