Ladd Springs

by Dianne Venetta

  Chapter Six

  Nick decided a trip to town was warranted. Time for Plan B. Ernie wasn’t paying the taxes. The county would only wait so long before they demanded payment, and that payment could come in the form of tax deed sale. If dealing with the owner regarding the sale wasn’t going to work, he’d deal with the local government. They’d want their money, and if he offered a way for them to get it, they’d jump—especially if enough incentive was involved. After all, it was an election year.

  Pulling onto Main Street just shy of noon, Nick decided to get a bite to eat first. He’d skipped breakfast due to a conference call, and his stomach was rumbling in protest. The parking lot for Fran’s Diner was packed. The square cement building had a curved entrance wall, peeling aqua paint and red neon-lettered sign in an airstream font straight out of the fifties or sixties. It didn’t appear Fran had spent a whole lot on either building or décor since the place was built, but that was fine with him. From Montana to Texas, Colorado to New York City, he’d be hard pressed to find a burger better than Fran’s. Although he was accustomed to dining at five-star restaurants, there was something to be said for a plain old-fashioned good food. Fat, juicy, served with American cheese, fresh tomato and sweet onion, his last meal at Fran’s was memorable. Greasy on the digestion, but memorable on the taste buds.

  Nick opened the metal-framed glass door and, suddenly dodging to one side, held it open as a young woman and baby stroller hurtled toward him on her way out. He nodded as she thanked him with a tip of her head and a smile. She looked awfully young to have babies, he mused, his gaze trailing her narrow backside as she passed. But that was small town living. Kids met and married their high school sweethearts and never looked back—except for Delaney. For some reason she ditched hers in fairly short order.

  As Nick joined the throng inside, his senses were quickly enveloped in a sensory fest of greasy meat and French-fried potatoes. Thick layers of it hung in the air, thrust out by a chaotic kitchen that sizzled with smoke amongst a fury of activity. Waitresses hurried from red-vinyled booth to red-vinyled booth, scribbling across notepads in rapid sequence. As expected, every seat in the house was occupied, plus a healthy line crowded out from the hostess stand. A tray full of burgers flew by him and his stomach growled.

  Nick moved to the end of the crowd and prepared to settle in for the wait when he caught sight of a familiar face. At one end of the long counter, a young woman sat alone, perched on the round red cushion of a metal barstool. Book in hand, half-eaten burger on the plate in front of her, it was the strawberry-blonde hair that snared his attention. He’d seen her before. The red-headed counter waitress walked over and refilled the girl’s iced tea, smiled and said something. The girl turned to thank the woman and a burst of pleasure erupted inside him. Well, what do you know...? Opportunity truly came in all forms.

  Abandoning his space in line, Nick walked over to the young woman. After giving her a minute to realize he was there, he introduced himself. Speaking over shouts from the kitchen staff, he extended a hand, “I’m Nick Harris. I’ve been talking to your uncle about purchasing the property. You’re Delaney Wilkins’ daughter, aren’t you?”

  Felicity flipped her heart-shaped face up to him. “Oh,” she exclaimed quietly.

  Was that surprise he heard, or relief that she recognized who he was?

  She darted a glance around, then reached out to accept his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Felicity.”

  “Hi, Felicity.” The two shook hands and Nick marveled at her fragile grasp. Her fingers were like bones and skin within the meat of his palm, but warm to the touch. Clearly, there was only one bull dog in the Wilkins family. “Taking a break from school?” he prompted, wondering at her midday presence in the restaurant.

  “Oh no,” she said, mildly flushing at the insinuation. “I’m a senior. Wednesdays are half-days for me.”

  “Half-days?” Nick chuckled. “Wish there were such a thing as half-days when I was in school.” She swallowed her smile and reached for her iced-tea. So she was shy, to boot. Interesting. “Has your mother told you about me?”

  Felicity nodded.

  “Order up!” came the shout from behind the service counter. A waitress quickly responded and yanked the paper ticket from above. She slid the heaping plates from the ledge to her awaiting tray and then hurried off.

  Ignoring the eyes beginning to stray toward their conversation, Nick said, “I’ve been talking to Mr. Ladd about turning the property into a showplace. I want to create the gem of the South—the premier resort spa for people to come and enjoy the beauty of Tennessee, become one with the land.” He noticed the man seated behind Felicity leaned toward her nonchalantly, as though trying to dial in to their conversation without being detected. “I run a group of eco-friendly spa hotels.”

  Her eyes widened as curiosity took over. “She didn’t tell me that.”

  He smiled. Of course she didn’t. She didn’t want Felicity anywhere near a positive opinion of him. But according to Delaney, Nick was looking at the rightful heir of Ladd Springs, and getting this young woman on his side might prove beneficial in his endeavor. “Well, she probably has a lot on her mind,” he said genially. “I understand how it may have skipped her thoughts to tell you. May I?”

  Felicity looked down at her plate, then up at him. She set her book down on the counter and dabbed at her mouth with a paper napkin. She perked up with a smile. “Sure. Why not?”

  Nick went into sales mode and explained his plans for the property. He made certain to hit upon all of the environmentally friendly aspects of the project, the warm and homey feel he wanted to incorporate into the hotel, as well as the luxurious spa amenities. The red-headed counter waitress continually eyed him, while the man seated next to her continued to listen in on their conversation. His split attention became obvious when the waitress addressed him twice with no response.

  “I offered to split off enough acreage for you and your family to stay and live on the property,” Nick informed her. “Including full lifetime privileges at the hotel and spa, my treat. A job, if you want it.” He winked. She laughed gaily at that and he raised a brow. “What? Not interested in work?”

  “Oh no,” she exclaimed. Her finger shot to her lips. “I didn’t mean that!” Her youth shone brightly in her embarrassment, her faintly freckled skin tinged pink as she drew her hand away. “I only meant that I plan to have a career as a flutist, not working at a hotel.” She collected herself and added, “But thanks, anyway.”

  “A flutist?” he asked, thoroughly intrigued.

  “Yes.” She sat a little straighter and turned more fully to him. “I’m going to college next year at the University of Tennessee. They have a phenomenal program where I intend to further my skill.”

  “You’re a flutist now?”

  “I am,” she said, streaks of pride streaming through her eyes, demure yet vibrant as she discussed her passion.

  Nick nodded. He’d found someone’s hot spot. Setting a hand to the counter, he leaned over, but not too close. In these parts he was liable to get shot by some unseen stranger deciding he’d taken one too many liberties with the fair and impressionable young Wilkins girl. He cast a glance at the onlookers with a cautious eye, then peered down at her and ventured, “College is pretty expensive. You’re very fortunate to be able to attend your school of choice.”

  Felicity’s vigor lost its punch. When she didn’t respond, he knew his shot in the dark had found its mark. “Your mom must be so proud of you, being accepted, following your dream. That’s impressive stuff.”

  “She is.”

  “Well, if you’d like a job during your summer break, I’d love to have you at the hotel,” Nick promised, speaking as though the matter of title had been decided in his favor. “Having a flutist would be a tremendous asset to the Serenity Spa.”

  “Serenity Spa?” she asked.

  He stood to his full six-foot-four stature. “That’s my trade name for the hotel spas. In
this case, I’d call it Serenity Springs Spa.” He grinned and asked in a near conspiratorial tone, “What do you think?”

  “I like it.” She smiled, and he noted her previous warmth had returned.

  “I’m offering a generous amount for the property. You may want to discuss it with your mother.” He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. “The money could ensure you don’t have to work during your four years at the university, make sure your mom can take care of those beautiful horses of hers.”

  “She’d love that!”

  He smiled. Hot button, number two. “There’d even be enough left over to build a nice-sized cabin for you both to live in.”

  Judging by the wistful air that entered her gaze, Nick decided he was right on target. The match was lit. It was time to let the fire build. “Listen,” he said and placed a hand over his stomach. “It was nice talking to you, but I need to feed the beast. Maybe I can hear you play one day?”

  She met his question with a polite nod. “Maybe.” When he took a step toward the hostess booth, she added, “It was nice talking to you, Mr. Harris.”

  After meeting with her clients, Delaney swung by the post office and grocery, then added a stop at the feed store on her way out of town. It was near three o’clock and she needed to get back. Felicity would be home soon and she would not come home to an empty cabin. Fortunately, the attorney had good news. He had prepared an affidavit for Ashley to sign, stating that she had witnessed the promise made from Ernie to her mother regarding the property. All it needed was a signature. Her attorney had suggested she ask her uncle to create a family trust, or sign over a quit-claim deed if he didn’t want to prepare a will, but warned she’d better act soon. According to the county clerk, they were putting together a list of properties in default on their taxes and the letters to delinquent property owners would go out soon.

  Delinquent property owners. Ernie was a delinquent all right, and he had no business putting the Ladd property in jeopardy. Delaney flipped on her turn signal, and checking for traffic, pulled onto the road and headed out of town. The truck’s gauge for her gas tank dinged. She looked down and grumbled under her breath. Dang thing ran through more gas than a cow on a grassy field. Nearest station was five miles ahead or three blocks back. She grunted. No time like the present. Spinning the wheel in a hard right, she bounced over a dip in the street and accelerated. Next corner, she stopped, looked both ways then jammed her foot to the brake. The truck lurched forward in a hard jerk, but her focus had been pulled in a different direction.

  Catty-corner across the road, she spotted Clem Sweeney standing outside a convenience store speaking to two men—a very distinct duo she had seen before. From her vantage point, she couldn’t make out their faces but there was no question about their identity. They were her strangers in the woods. Same hats, same build, it was them all right. And they were talking to Clem.

  Fury permeated every cell of her body. Steam blew out her ears. Leave it to him to be tied up with those no good trespassers. Instinct nearly glued her foot to the accelerator, but good sense intervened. Nothing good would come of confronting Clem—not until she could use it to her advantage, anyway. If those men were up to trouble on Ladd property, Uncle Ernie would not take kindly to learning his darling Clem was mixed up with them. A slow smile tugged at her mouth. And learn he would.

  Taking care not to draw attention to herself, Delaney took the turn, easy and slow. Some days, driving a non-descript truck, much the same as half the town drove, had its high points. She wouldn’t stand out in a crowd—or turning the corner as she made her way to the gas station.

  After filling her tank, Delaney drove home, her thoughts running circles around potential scenarios that involved Clem and the two men. With an elbow out the open window, hair whipping to and fro, she suddenly understood Clem’s surprise appearance in the woods. It was no coincidence he’d showed up yesterday at precisely the time she was poking around the spot the men had been the day before. He knew what they were doing there. Hell, he probably put them up to it!

  And she would know, too. Soon enough. She had an appointment with the bank in the morning, but after lunch she’d head back into the forest, and this time she’d cover her tracks. No one would be the wiser to her whereabouts—not Clem and not Nick. Though why Nick was so interested in following her continued to elude her. He wasn’t from these parts. He didn’t know Clem, didn’t know her. He didn’t know the woods. Didn’t he say so himself, asking her to lead him out safely? Why bother to follow her? What was the point?

  There was much about Nick Harris she didn’t know. For starters, she didn’t know why he wanted this property so badly, not when there were plenty of other acres available for sale and for a good price, too. Any number of tracts would be suitable for his hotel project, but he seemed hell bent on getting his hands on this one. Why?

  Passing the driveway to her home on her way to Ashley’s, Delaney’s grip tightened on the wheel. Parked alongside Felicity’s red compact was Annie Owen’s white two-door sedan. Delaney’s heart thumped in defiance. Annie wasn’t back at it again, was she?

  Instead of heading to Ashley’s, she swerved into the yard and sped over the gravel drive, dust billowing up around her truck as she closed in on the house. Slamming boot to brakes, she yanked the gear shift into park and pushed out of the truck, marched over to Ernie’s cabin and pounded up the steps. “What the hell are you doing here?”