Four White Roses

by Judy Ann Davis

  Commiserating, Rich said, “It’s the way of the world, I guess. Where’s Kyle these days?” Rich knew Henry’s son and his wife had moved somewhere up near the Great Lakes where he had a job in accounting.

  “He just came back to Hickory Valley from Michigan when his company was downsized, and he’s looking for a job in accounting or management. He doesn’t want to disappoint his twin girls. Denise was planning to go to college for her nursing degree, and Danielle wanted to study to be an elementary teacher, so they came here and moved in with me. They’re going to commute to the community college at Gibson Lake this fall. I sure wish this old garage could make more money, but honestly, it can only support one family. Gus sees the handwriting on the wall, so he’s moving on.”

  “You aren’t going to hire anyone?”

  “Nah.” The old man shook his head and heaved a weary sigh. “I’ve given serious thought to giving my two part-time workers notice and putting the garage up for sale. It’s time for these old bones to retire. Trouble is, who would want to buy this giant maze of brick and crumbling mortar? And I still have a mortgage.”

  “What about the warehouse and apartment?”

  “I’m hoping I can list them separately and a buyer can continue to rent the apartment out. I’m hoping he’d allow Torrie to remain and keep her rent the same.”

  He picked up a stack of invoices. “I’ve got to get paperwork together for her to pay bills.” He shuffled a bunch of paper into a heap and looked up. “Hey, every Monday night a bunch of us get together for a beer and some nickel and dime poker. Gus, Finn, Lars, Ivan, and Joe usually come. It’s at Finn’s next week. Why don’t you join us? We start at seven p.m. and play for a few hours. You can get caught up on the local news. We’d love to take your money.”

  Rich laughed. “I bet you would. I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Torrie was not certain her arrival at Rich Redman’s house at ten o’clock in the morning with three suitcases was a good idea, but Iris was itching to see Estella and had packed like she was going on a month-long vacation instead of a sleepover. One suitcase alone contained all her stuffed animals, dolls, and toys—as if Estella didn’t have enough of her own. The second suitcase was filled with juice boxes and snacks even though the Redman household employed Hickory Valley’s best cook, Lucille Smith. And the last contained her clothes—for every occasion imaginable. Sometimes Torrie just felt it was easier to go along and get along than fight with Iris over her packing skills.

  Rich, Estella, and Lulu met them at the door. Without any comments or questions or even a raised eyebrow, Lulu hurried them off to the kitchen where she had planned to bake muffins with them, and Rich tossed the luggage at the foot of the stairs. Torrie followed him into the study with a folder and the journal she had perused.

  “Did you get Henry’s payroll finished?” He gazed at her face, then moved over her body critically. She was glad she had taken the time earlier in the morning to put on a pair of better jeans and a lemon-colored blouse borrowed from Elsa. They stared at each other without speaking.

  As usual, he looked like he stepped off a photo shoot for a designer clothing store. His dark jeans, white shirt, and brown canvas vest gave him a totally sexy western look and brought indecent thoughts swirling in Torrie’s head.

  When he continued to stare, she finally broke the silence and temptation she knew could be perilous to both of them. “What? Do I have dirt on me, again?” she asked.

  He shook his head and smiled and walked to the desk, sitting down.

  Torrie set her purse on a nearby chair, opened her folder, and got right down to business. They had work to do, and she planned to earn her keep if he was paying her triple her usual hourly rate. She paced in front of the desk as she read from her notes. “I checked all the old newspaper clippings and couldn’t find any mention of your great uncle. But I ran into Marlene, and she traced him to Elmira, New York, where he lived before entering a nursing home until his death.”

  “So it’s a dead lead, excuse the pun.” Rich frowned and motioned to her to take a seat beside him. Stacked in front of him were piles of Hilda’s journals. The papers and books Torrie had moved the other day were still heaped to the side.

  “No, not really.” Torrie laid her folder on the desk and sat down. “Didn’t you say your dad used to travel to upstate New York occasionally?”

  Lulu appeared with a tray, a coffee pot and two cups, and what looked like very fattening Danish rolls. She set the tray on the already overcrowded desk. “You are going to need some fortifying food to get through the Hammermill explosion in this room.” She peered at Rich with her wizened elflike gaze. “I’m packing a picnic lunch and taking the girls to the town park to play this morning after we finish baking muffins. If I don’t run their little legs off them and tire them out, you’ll never get them to sleep tonight. I left sandwiches and a salad on the top shelf in the refrigerator. If Torrie and you want a break, eat in the kitchen, otherwise tote it in here on a tray. There’s chocolate cake for dessert.”

  “Lulu, you are a saint.” Rich reached for the coffee pot.

  The elderly woman grunted and headed for the door. “And I would imagine saints get extra points, don’t you think, Sunshine?”

  Rich’s laugh bubbled out into the quiet study and followed her down the hall.

  “What in the world is she talking about?” Torrie helped herself to a Danish roll. “And why does she call you Sunshine?”

  “It’s a heck of a lot better than Perry Mason. And it’s Lulu’s way of telling me she’s in charge, especially when I’m in a bad mood. I told her I’d give her special bonus points for any work above and beyond the call of duty or rather above our verbal agreement when she first arrived. They’re like frequent flyer miles, only she can turn these in for cash. Now she’s started keeping a notebook and writes everything down she believes is not in her job description. Which, by the way, I’ve yet to see—although she swears she has one.” He smirked. “If I have Lulu pegged correctly, I’ve no doubt she’s close to her first thousand points.”

  Torrie choked on her drink. “I don’t believe you’re bribing her.”

  He grinned. “What I’d never tell her is she’s the best housekeeper I’ve ever employed and if she keeps feeding me the way she does, I’ll be three hundred lumbering pounds before July rolls around. If I could lure her out of Hickory Valley, I’d take her and her quirky humor back to Texas, but don’t you dare tell her. She already has the upper hand and the last word around here.” He picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. “Now what were you saying about this not being a dead lead?”

  Rich Redman heading back to Texas was the last thing Torrie wanted to hear, but she pulled herself together and gathered her thoughts. “Your great uncle must have made friends with people in the nursing home before he died. I think someone needs to go up to Willow Tree Assisted Living and poke around and ask questions.”

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” Rich asked. “We could drive up, make some connections, and be back by suppertime. It’s only about two and a half hours away.”

  “I have to work, Rich. I can’t leave Finn in a bind.”

  “What happens if you get sick?”

  “One of Henry’s granddaughters usually works for me. Both Danielle and Denise are good at the cash register.”

  “I’m tripling your wages, Torrie. You can give one of the girls a third of your take, and you’re still making double.”

  “How about you pay Denise’s wages and still pay mine?” Her face was stone sober, but her adorable aquamarine gaze twinkled merrily. “If you’re serious about wanting me to go,” she added.

  “Have you been taking lessons from Lulu?”

  “No, but now that you mention it, I’d like to try your point system.” She was barely able to keep the laughter from her voice.

  He leaned over and pulled her to him. When his lips met hers, he tasted a lingering sweet flavor of cinnamon and sugar. Sh
e didn’t try to pull away, and he found himself wanting so much more. The kiss lasted way too long before Torrie ended it.

  “Well, this alone is certainly worth more than a few points.” She rose unsteadily to her feet and moved her chair to the other side of the desk, opposite him. “We’d better stick to business.”

  “Hey, wait a minute.” He groaned. “We were just beginning to enhance our working relationship and our interpersonal skills.”

  “Rich, we’re never going to get anything done if you don’t concentrate.”

  “I was concentrating. Weren’t you?”

  “I mean on these journals of Hilda’s. Did you read any of them?”

  He looked disappointed. “There wasn’t much to read. Hilda seemed to be homesick and kept writing to her cousin to send things from Austria. She mentions doll house furniture she wanted since her husband was making and selling doll houses when he came home at night after constructing the real ones. I don’t know if it’s important.”

  “Yes, and she was always requesting teddy bears, designed by Margarite Steiff. Did you know Steiff even designed a Teddy bear named after Theodore Roosevelt? Old German toys before World War I are very pricey and dealers are still interested in them. Some of the bears before 1920 are valued from two to six thousand dollars. Maybe the actual wealth is in your cabinets full of toys, tin cars, and bears dating back to World War I.” She rose and walked to the floor-to-ceiling cabinet enclosed in glass where dozens of teddy bears, dressed in all types of clothing, were artfully arranged.

  He shrugged. “I doubt it. I think she was homesick for Austria and had an overzealous fascination with toys. Gertie once told me she even made clothes for all the neighborhood children’s dolls.”

  “For the record, just how many people know about these jewels and your father’s infidelity?” Torrie sauntered back to the desk and sat down.

  “I hope as few as possible. But Marlene Hess knows, and nothing gets past Lucille Smith.”

  Later, as they sat in the kitchen and ate Lulu’s sandwiches and salad, the roar of a motorcycle and rumbling of a pickup interrupted their peaceful meal. Joe Bradley and Gus Larson appeared at the back door, both holding the sides of their heads with their hands as they smashed their noses against the glass and peered in.

  “Golly gee,” Rich said with a smirk. “Just what I’ve always longed for—the Sesame Street duo. Bert and Ernie. And on the day we rid ourselves of Lulu and the girls. What luck!” He looked at her with a suggestive glint in his eye. “Do you think if we sit here motionless, they’ll think we’re wax figures and make like bees and buzz off?”

  “For heaven sake, Rich, let them in.” Torrie rose, crossed to the French doors, and opened them. “You’re just in time for German chocolate cake made by Lucille Smith. It’s the prize-winning one she bakes for the church bazaar and county fair.” At the mention of chocolate cake, both men wore grins as wide as sock monkeys. Behind her she heard Rich groan out, “Nice work, Torrie. Let’s have a party and have all your friends over to eat my food.”

  Trying hard to hide her amusement, Torrie returned to the kitchen with Joe and Gus trailing behind her like eager taste testers at a holiday bake-off. They scrambled to get a seat at the table and nodded a curt greeting to Rich.

  “I thought this would be a good day to check on your ideas for the living room. I just finished up installing a new bathroom sink for Marlene,” Joe said. “Lulu’s chocolate cake? What an awesome treat. Thank you.”

  Rich eyed him warily.

  “And I’m off from the garage for a few days. Business is tapering off, so I’m ready to tackle any handy work you might need outside. I thought I’d start on the overgrown rhododendron,” Gus said. “Man, this is not just a chocolate cake. It’s her famous, blue ribbon chocolate cake! What a stroke of luck. Do you have some milk to go with this?”

  This time Rich didn’t try to hide an outright irritable snort.

  Torrie moved to the counter and took out plates. She caught his gaze and laughed, aware of his annoyance. “Hey, Gus,” she said as she poured her brother a drink and set the glass and milk carton in front of him, “can you cover for me tomorrow at the landscape center?”

  “Yeah, sure, I can help. I was only planning to tune up a few motorcycles.”

  “I thought you’d start packing for your new job in North Carolina.”

  “Not until September, kiddo. I’ve plenty of time. In fact, I’m a little worried about what I’m going to do with all the motorcycle parts I’ve stored at Henry’s. What’s up?” Gus looked at her with a curious expression. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Rich is headed up to Elmira, and I’d like to ride along. There’s some great outlet malls along the way. I figured this would be a good time to get Iris some summer clothes.”

  His brow furrowed, Joe’s face reflected a dubious stare. “I can always take you shopping, Torrie. Wherever you need to go.”

  “I know, Joe. Thanks.” She glanced at Rich and took a deep breath.

  He came to her rescue with a smooth convincing voice he often used on his clients. “Actually, I want to interview some people at the nursing home where my late great uncle stayed. I know so little about him. I was hoping Torrie could help me with the female residents.”

  Joe rose from the table. “Well, we’d better see what you want done with the living room before you leave so I can order materials. I’d like to get right on this. Gus, why don’t you help me measure things up before you man those hedge trimmers?”

  ****

  After an hour of conferring with both men about refurbishing and repapering the living room, Rich sent Joe on his way, only to have Lars, Elsa’s twin, deliver the new SUV he had purchased. When he finally rejoined Torrie in the study, she was pouring over yet another journal. Outside, the buzz of hedge clippers and the hum of a lawn mower interrupted what he thought would be a peaceful afternoon. He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. Head bent, she was exquisite-looking with her long, blinding white hair flowing over her shoulders in graceful curves and sparkling like tiny strands of lustrous glass.

  “You sure have a lot of people safeguarding you from the big, bad male population.” He shook his head in frustration. “And we still have one more brother we haven’t heard from today. I wonder where he’s hiding.”

  Torrie laughed. “Joe has always been protective, and my brothers are just being…big brothers. We look out for each other.”

  He picked up her hand and ran his fingers gently up her arm. “I got a great idea. No, I have a terrific idea. Let’s take a break from this noise and take the new SUV out for a spin. We have a few hours before dinnertime, and if we hurry we can fly the coop before Lulu brings the girls home. It’s going to be a long night with Estella and Iris and this girlie sleepover thing.”

  “You’re paying me to ride around with you?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? Have you ever pushed aside your worries and the serious side of life and just decided to go with the flow? Taken some time to have fun? Escaped the humdrum and tedium of everyday life?”

  She shook her head. “Since Iris was born, my life has been one pothole after another I’ve had to bump over or around, just to get down the road of life each day.”

  “Neither have I,” he admitted. The last two years since Margaretta’s death had been long tedious days and fretful nights. He’d never admit it, but he agonized under the dark shadows of night that he wasn’t a good enough parent to Estella, and in the light of the day, he pushed through endless workaholic hours filled with taking care of other people’s legal worries. He brightened. “Let’s just do something out of character for both of us. Let’s waste some time and blow this town.”

  “What about finding your half-sister and the jewels?”

  He waved his hand in the air and circled the study stuffed with books, ledgers, and papers. “No one’s found the jewels for over a hundred years. We’re never going to examine all this dreadful paperwork in a day. What are
a few more hours? Grab a journal if you feel guilty about abandoning work. We’ll take it with us.”

  Minutes later, with the windows down, the moon roof open, and a quilt, a journal, sweatshirts, and a cooler tossed in the back seat, they left Hickory Valley, flying down the road toward Gibson Lake. Torrie had taken off her shoes and propped her feet on the dash. The wind whipped her hair, and she tucked the errant strands behind her ears. The day was sunny and bright and the glorious smell from a hayfield of drying grass wafted around them as fence posts flew by. Rich pulled onto a side road before they reached Gibson Lake and followed an old rutted dirt road ending in a small grassy clearing, protected on all three sides by a stand of hemlocks hugging the lake. He spread the quilt and hauled the cooler from the cargo bed with Torrie following, journal in her hands. When they were seated, he took the journal and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed behind them on the grassy bank.

  “Remember, you’re paying me for today,” she warned him.

  “If you don’t stop worrying, I swear, Torrie Larson, I’ll toss the journal and you in the lake.” He stretched out his legs and leaned back, bracing his weight on his forearms as he surveyed the water in front of them. The sun sent slanted rays on the surface and it sparkled like diamonds. Somewhere a duck called and a frog croaked in the reeds.

  “How’d you find this spot?” she asked. She lay down on her back, staring at the sky through the branches of the trees. She had propped her head up with a pillow made from one of his sweatshirts.

  “My grandfather used to bring me here to fish when I was young. Later, I came out myself when I wanted to get away and have some solitude.” He sat up and reached in the cooler for a bottle he had uncorked at the house. He poured two glasses of white wine and handed one to Torrie when she sat up. “To a peaceful few hours and a stress-free night of supervising a sleepover.”

  She laughed. “To a grand day of finding some clues to your mysterious stash of jewels and discovering new relatives.”

  Rich watched her take a sip of wine and visibly relax. He wondered how she was able to cope with the sudden death of her fiancé and the frightening realization she’d be the sole parent, responsible for raising an infant. Lulu had told him Elsa and Finn had gone to New York when she was due to have the baby and coached her through the delivery, then packed her up to return to Hickory Valley. He reached out and rubbed a lock of her silky pale hair between his thumb and forefinger. She turned and looked at him and smiled. “Everyone thinks I bleach it until they meet my mom and dad. Then they realize I got a double dose of Scandinavian genes.” She took a sip of wine. “I almost forgot. Estella and Iris want to dye their hair pink.”