The Near & Far Series

by Serena Clarke

  “I suppose I’d better do something about it when we get home.”

  She sighed. She could hardly imagine going back now. Despite the drama here, the thought of going back to work and real life in London was totally unappealing. Not to mention being on the other side of the pond from Reid…although it was probably better for Shelby to be a good distance away from Kyle.

  “What’s the plan, anyway?” she added. “What are we going to do until then?”

  “I don’t know! I can’t think about that.” Shelby suddenly veered into sounding angry, as though Cady was being unreasonably demanding. This reaction got her back up, and she felt her patience draining away.

  “Well, Holt has been good to us, but we can’t just stay here indefinitely, you know.”

  “Pah,” Shelby said, her tone sour. “We’re lucky to be here at all. Mrs. G’s baby never made it.”

  “If you feel that way, maybe you shouldn’t be staying in his house, eating his food, and using his lawyer.” Cady was struggling with the question herself, and Shelby’s razor-sharp comment resonated—if it was true. But while it was unproven, and they were here relying on him, the snark was a bit hypocritical. “Maybe we should move on, then.”

  She huffed, defensive. “Stop pressuring me, okay?”

  “I’m not pressuring you! But it’d be fair enough if I did. I need to know what happened. What’s the story with Kyle? And what happened with the bus?”

  In answer, she rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. Apparently, the conversation was over.

  Cady let out an exasperated noise and stood up. “Fine.” She knew Shelby must have had a hard time there in the Tenderloin, and that she was still processing the reality of her test results, and hurting over Kyle. She reminded herself how worried she’d been about her sister when she was gone, and how much she’d missed her. God knows why. “I know you’ve been through a trauma, and you need time to recover,” she said, trying to sound sympathetic. “But I’m working in the dark here, and we don’t have all the time in the world. I hope you feel better soon.”

  She waited, but the blanket mound that was her sister remained stubbornly silent. Cady left her to it.

  Thirty-Seven

  With Shelby in retreat for an unspecified duration, fussed over by Elva, Cady had time on her hands. Each day, she expected to be summoned for a police interview, but it didn’t happen. And each day, she hoped to hear from Reid, but that didn’t happen either. After he’d gone, she realized—in an epic face-palm moment—that she hadn’t taken his phone number. Talk about fuddled brain.

  So, she kept herself occupied while she waited for Shelby to buck the hell up. She borrowed the pickup again, and went into Santa Almendra to get clothes and supplies for her. She was tempted to go and see Mrs. G, but decided in the end that it probably wouldn’t help either of them. She phoned to check on their dad, and give him her new number. He was on his way to bed and sounding tired—she’d got the time zones mixed up—so their conversation was short and sweet. She was sorry not to have a proper chat, but relieved that she wasn’t obliged to make up some story about where they were. She helped Elva around the house, and learned to make her signature chocolate chunk oatmeal cookies. And she lurked online, waiting to see if anyone from Flashpoint would break the silence. They didn’t, although there was plenty of gossip and comment around. She refrained from posting anything, anywhere. What could she possibly say? Even though she knew the Facebook and Twitter logins, it wasn’t her place to speak for them—and she didn’t want to stir up any (more) trouble. And the whole time, she tried not to think about Wodarski-Ebner, and the truth waiting for her back in London.

  Bee came by, riding up to the porch on Rambler as Cady sat with her phone doing some online research into the environmental issues around intensive agriculture. She’d been wondering whether anything could be done around Santa Almendra to lessen the impact of the almond monoculture. It was something to keep her occupied while Shelby was still in seclusion, anyway. Bee jumped down from the horse’s back, landing lightly on the ground.

  “Hi,” Cady said. “It’s just us today, and Elva. Holt’s down at the office.”

  “Oh.” Her face gave away her disappointment, but she rallied. “Well, I actually came to see you and Shelby, see how you are. I’m so glad she’s back safely.”

  “Thanks, I know. She’s sleeping right now.” Sleep had been her escape from everything. “But I could use some company. You could help me eat the cookies I made with Elva.”

  She laughed. “I’m happy to do that.” She left Rambler to graze on the lawn, and came up the steps, taking off her cowboy hat. “Did you find out what happened? Elva said Shelby wouldn’t talk about it.”

  “Nope, nothing. It’s frustrating, but I’m trying not to feel annoyed about it. She’s having a bad time.”

  “Poor girl. It’s great that you can both be here while she recuperates. I know it’s been something special for Holt, to have this time with you, even if it hasn’t all been ideal.”

  Cady wondered what to say. There’d been a number of ‘not ideal’ things lately. The drama of Shelby going missing with Kyle. Her bombshell of the positive test result. And the family drama—discovering their namesakes and the events that happened (or didn’t happen) in San Francisco years before. It was hard to begrudge Mrs. G taking to reclusive ways after that. Hopefully Shelby wouldn’t go down the same path.

  As if reading her mind, Bee started to talk.

  “I know you still have doubts about Holt. But you know as much as anyone that family is family, when it counts, and he never had the family he hoped for. Look at this big house.” She swept a hand around, taking in the serene beauty of the home and its gardens. “This is a place for a family. You girls could bring it back to life.”

  “I suppose…” Without a home in England, the idea of this being home was enticing. But loyalty to her dad meant she wouldn’t think about throwing her lot in with Holt, even if it was an option. And there was still an unresolved question. While it was just the two of them, Cady decided to lay it on the line. “But what about Mrs. G? She never had her family either. Was that because of Holt?”

  “Come on, Cady,” she said. “Do you really, truly think the Holt you know would do something like that?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know him very well…”

  “Well, I do. And I’m telling you, honestly, I don’t believe it’s true.” Her voice rose, edged with frustration. “And you shouldn’t either. The only person who believes it is Cady Greenwood. I know she must have been heartbroken when she lost the baby. And the guilt, the thinking you should have done something different, must have been unbearable. She paid the heaviest consequences for the wild way all three of us were living. And I’m sorry for her, I really, really am. But other people’s lives don’t have to be ruined too.” She breathed out and shook her hands, throwing off all the emotion. “Now, let’s leave it at that.”

  “Okay.” Cady was swayed by that heartfelt testimony, she had to admit. People were complicated, life was complicated, and here she was coming in years after the fact, trying to figure out the truth in the space of days. She could leave it at that, for now. And Bee’s steadfast support of Holt was touching. Did he even know what an advocate he had in her? She smiled at the good-hearted woman. “Let’s have those cookies then.”

  * * *

  The next day, at Holt’s insistence, she learned how to shoot a handgun. She was reluctant at first. Where she came from, after all, anyone walking around with a gun would cause a major police alert. But after the events in San Francisco, he was determined, so she gave in and agreed.

  He showed her where the gun cupboard was, and where he kept the key, and took out his favorite—a Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum revolver.

  “You and Dirty Harry, huh?” Her dad loved those movies.

  “Yeah, make my day,” he joked. “But it’s a serious thing. I want you to learn how to use it safely.”

  They went
out to a field behind the house, where a practice range was set up, and he talked her through it. Holding the gun, she was surprised how natural it felt, weighty in her hands. She really must have watched too many cop shows on TV.

  “Remember, keep your finger off the trigger until it’s pointed at the target,” Holt said as she braced herself for her first shot. “Okay, lean into it…keep a good grip on it.”

  She grit her teeth, the gun heavy in her grasp, and pulled the trigger. Whoa, baby. There was something in the crack of the shot, the shock of the recoil, the smell of the smoke, that gave her an intoxicating buzz. Something alarmingly thrilling about the sense of power. She looked at him from behind her safety glasses, the Magnum’s recoil still stinging her hand.

  “I’m ashamed to say how much I liked that.” She was pretty sure her voice was over-loud with excitement, even compensating for the earplugs.

  He shrugged. “No shame in it. There are people around here who’ll talk you to death about the Second Amendment. Sometimes I feel like telling them to just go ahead and shoot me, it’d be more merciful.”

  She laughed. “But you don’t always carry a gun with you.”

  “No,” he said. “And it’s illegal to carry a gun in public in California, unless you have a special license. It’s not like we’re all running around like bandits. But on private property, here on the farm, I can. And since the Earth Stand people started showing up, I’ve felt more inclined. Okay, you have five more shots there, go ahead.”

  So she did. She had no idea she had it in her to enjoy this so much. Turned out she had pretty good aim, too. She was full of surprises for herself lately.

  As they walked back to the house, she decided to tell him about an idea she’d had. “Speaking of Earth Stand…has there been more vandalism?”

  “There has. We’re putting more security in place, but there are a lot of acres to cover.”

  She paused. “I have an idea to run by you. Something Earth Stand would probably approve of, but something good for the farm too, maybe.” With Shelby refusing to make a move, a new project had been taking shape in Cady’s mind. Organizing the ‘Home’ flash mob had whet her appetite for more, and it was better to keep busy than spend her time thinking about certain people…

  “Sounds interesting,” he said. “Let’s put this away, make a coffee, and you can tell me about it.”

  “Okay. Are you up for something a bit different?”

  His blue eyes glittered with good humor. “It’s been nothing but, lately.”

  She nodded. For her, too. Different good, and different bad. Hopefully her idea would be in the good category. She needed the boost, and so did Shelby, and Holt too, even if he didn’t know it yet. Whether he deserved it, was another story. Bee would say he did. And apparently the new Cady was the kind of girl who’d give him a chance.

  Thirty-Eight

  The town hall was full. Cady sat at the side and watched as the Santa Almendra Resident’s Association meeting came to order. She was impressed by how many people were there—the good citizens of Santa Almendra were obviously deeply invested in the effective running of their town.

  Shelby had ventured out tonight too, for the first time. A cautious Holt wouldn’t leave her home alone, and she didn’t want to be there by herself either. They’d caused quite a stir when they came in with him. It seemed like everyone wanted to say hello—whether out of friendliness or plain old nosiness, Cady didn’t know. But it was clear from the way people greeted him that Holt was a sort of Santa Almendra royalty, so the girls’ arrival was front page, tabloid-worthy news in this small town. Especially given the juicy detail of their names, and the scandalous back-story. She tried to ignore all the glances and whispers as they found seats and settled in.

  Bee was there, and Roger the pharmacist, and the librarian from the day they met Cady Greenwood. Cady scanned the hall, but there was no sign of the other Cady herself. She must still not be well enough. Then she remembered what Roger had said about her reclusiveness—she probably wouldn’t come to something like this anyway.

  The chairman banged his gavel, and the meeting was underway. After the official procedure of apologies and approving the previous meeting’s minutes, they discussed the possible funding of a second drinking fountain, for the south end of Main Street. There was much debate over the location—outside the hardware store, or the post office?—before a vote decided it. Home handymen and women were apparently more likely to be thirsty than letter-posters. After further discussion about a new crosswalk by the playground, and an oversized sign on the pavement outside a new café, the chairman announced the next topic.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the next item of business listed on the agenda is a report from Miss Cady Morrow.”

  Cady took a deep breath and stood up, and all eyes turned in her direction. She hadn’t been this nervous since speech day at school. She made her way to the stage, where the chairman stepped aside from the microphone with a flourish.

  “Thank you for making time for me tonight,” she told him. Then she turned to the residents, sitting row by row. “It’s been a pleasure to meet so many of you. Your lovely community seems like something very special.”

  A ripple of approval ran through the hall, and she continued on with an attentive audience. Obviously, a little flattery never went astray.

  “We’re all aware of how important it is to protect our environment. At the same time, I’ve learned that the wellbeing and economic strength of rural communities depends on cost-effective agricultural practices. With both of those things in mind, Holt and I have been working on an idea to tip the scales a little more in nature’s favor. We’re going to build a sort of green corridor through the farm—a bee road, if you like.”

  She checked her notes. In the last few days, while Shelby rested, she’d been burning up the internet doing research, and along with Holt’s input she’d formed a plan she was completely in love with. She’d actually found herself getting quite fond of Holt too, as they worked together. Behind the silver fox charm, under the ever-present cowboy hat, there did seem to be a genuine kindness.

  “Bees in particular have had a tough time in recent years,” she continued. “I’d never heard of Colony Collapse Disorder until this week. I’ve learned—as you probably already know—that beehives are trucked in from out of state every year to pollinate the local almond trees. But it’s about more than almonds. They may not register on a company’s balance sheet, but bees support whole ecosystems, and without enough of them, the whole cycle of life is compromised. With our bee road project, we’re not trying to attract enough bees to replace them in the orchards—too many are needed. But we can make a notable difference by providing suitable environments, and a kind of safe passage through agricultural areas for them and their other insect and animal friends.”

  Was she explaining it well enough? She wanted to make them all feel as enthusiastic about it as she’d become herself. She caught Holt’s eye, and he nodded encouragement, so she carried on.

  “So, I’m here to ask for your help, on behalf of the bees and other creatures that make our world work. We’re going to start planting this weekend—a working bee for a bee road. It’s still a bit hot to put some of the plants in, but it’ll be a start, and your help will make all the difference. If this works, it could be the first of many in the area.”

  She and Shelby would be gone by then, of course, but it was nice to think she was making a positive contribution. Galling though it was, she had to give Earth Stand a little bit of credit for sparking the idea. She wished she could tell Reid about it—he’d probably be happy she wasn’t giving someone else all the credit on this one.

  “The information sheet should give you all the details you need. But please ask if you have any questions or suggestions. And I hope we’ll see you on Saturday.”

  Roger put up his hand, and Cady nodded. “Hi, Roger. Do you have a question?”

  But before he could say anything, the door at the back
of the hall opened, and Cady saw Mrs. G come in. Her immediate thought was, how nice that she’s here. Then she saw the look on her face, and knew that it wasn’t so nice after all. She was followed by an older woman, who looked as worried as Cady suddenly felt.

  Mrs. G, on the other hand, looked full of fiery indignation as she stood in the aisle and zeroed in on Holt.

  “How could you bring them here?” she demanded. “Haven’t you done enough, without parading them around town? You always thought you were beyond criticism, but this is disgusting. What kind of sick person names their daughters after their lovers?”

  A buzz went around the room as the town realized they had a show on their hands. Cady and Shelby looked at each other, mortified, then at Holt. He stood up, his face set, but then Bee sprang to her feet on the other side of the hall.

  “Cady!” she exclaimed. “This is not the right time or place.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. G said. “There’s never a right time or place to hear the truth. He did away with my baby, but he kept these ones.” She looked from Cady to Shelby, her eyes wild. “Why did you deserve to live, but not my child?”

  Up on the podium, Cady hardly knew where to put herself. She knew they were both remembering what Shelby had said a few days ago, about how they were lucky to be here. And they were. Lucky that their mother had formed a secret plan, met Holt, and managed to get pregnant in just a few weekends. It felt wrong to say they were lucky she had cheated on their dad, but that was their own truth. They were, undeniably, wanted. Cady felt terribly sorry for her namesake. She stepped down from the stage, not wanting to be up there for all to see.

  “Cady Greenwood, that’s enough,” Bee told her. “You know the truth, but you’ve chosen to believe something different all this time. And it hasn’t helped you.”

  “Ha. Really? Well, has your truth helped you? You’ve pined for him all this time, but you never got him, did you?”