Gloria, her personal assistant, had obviously left early for some reason. That was fine, since she put in whatever hours the job—and Carolyn—required.
As soon as Carolyn finished with the paperwork, she planned to head home herself, since she had company coming for dinner. Inviting Susannah, Sandy, Lisa and Yvette to the house was a giant leap into the public sphere for her. Carolyn had never socialized much; because of her position as Colville’s main employer, it was risky. Her father had often cautioned her about getting too close to any one family. Still, none of those women was associated with the mill in any way.
With her responsibility to the business always in mind, she’d kept mostly to herself since her return, forgoing friendships. At times she was lonely, but a sense of duty had been bred into her. She didn’t resent her position; she took it seriously. This mill contributed significantly to the local economy, which meant the decisions she made affected the town as a whole.
Paperwork done, Carolyn walked into the yard, where the lumber was stacked ten feet high. Sprinklers continually kept the wood wet and cool. A fire could do massive damage, and every measure was taken to protect the raw lumber. The year before, she’d purchased a new lumber stacker for the cut wood, one that minimized operating costs. With new machinery in place, including the stacker, her goal was to produce approximately 50,000 cubic meters of quality lumber annually. No small goal, but she’d set her sights on that figure and had everything she needed to make it a reality.
When he saw her, Carolyn’s plant manager, Jim Reynolds, hurried toward her with a clipboard in his hand. She relied on Jim, who was directly below her in the chain of command. He was much more than her manager; he was her right-hand man, with a drive and ambition that matched her own. Thanks to his years of working at the mill, the men respected his judgment—and respected him. Carolyn didn’t make a move without consulting Jim first.
Ten years younger than Carolyn, he was tall, muscular and tanned from all the time he’d spent outside. He was happily married and had three kids, two of whom were about to enter college. Jim was a dedicated, honorable man. Carolyn was grateful that he worked for her and paid him a salary that was commensurate with his value to the business.
“How’d the meeting go?” Jim asked as he approached.
“We have a deal.”
“Hey!” Jim nodded approvingly, giving her a thumbs-up. “Congratulations.”
Jim knew as well as she did that this new plywood order would carry them through the summer. It was the first time Carolyn had cracked this hardware chain. She started to relate the details when he interrupted.
“We nearly lost Grady Simpson this afternoon.”
“What happened?” Carolyn was instantly concerned. Grady had worked at the mill when her father was still alive. He was close to retirement age and had always been a solid employee.
“Heart attack.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“Looks like it.”
Relief flowed through Carolyn.
“But he would’ve been a goner if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of that guy who does the landscaping.”
Carolyn knew he worked for Kettle Falls Landscaping, the company she hired for the upkeep of the gardens here and her yard at home. She’d used them for the past three years and they’d done an adequate job. She’d never had any complaints, but the new gardener, who’d started about four months ago, was exceptional. He was conscientious, hardworking and punctual; equally important, he understood plants. No one had done a better job on her yard than Dave Langevin. He’d impressed her enough for Carolyn to ask his name.
“You’d better begin at the beginning,” she said.
“Grady was on the stacker when he keeled over. God only knows what might’ve happened if that guy hadn’t been mowing the lawn.” The office had a small yard with some shrubs and basic flower beds, which required routine maintenance. “Before anyone else realized what was going on, this guy—Dave’s his name—got to Grady.”
“I know Dave Langevin,” Carolyn said casually.
Jim finished the story, succinctly describing what had happened. “He administered CPR until the paramedics arrived. The EMT said Grady would’ve been dead without Dave’s help.”
Carolyn hadn’t seen the landscaping truck in the parking lot. “Has he left? I’d like to thank him.”
“I thought you might, but he said he had some other work that needed to be done today. As soon as he saw that Grady was in good hands, he went back to mowing the lawn and took off shortly afterward.”
Carolyn would seek him out later and thank him. “It sounds like you had an exciting afternoon.”
“We did,” Jim concurred wryly. “But I can live without that kind of excitement.”
Carolyn agreed. “I’ll have Gloria check on Grady so you can let everyone know how he’s doing.” Gloria, her assistant, was about as organized as they come. Her father had drilled into Carolyn the importance of surrounding herself with competent employees, and it was probably the most valuable lesson he’d taught her.
Jim revealed a hint of a smile. “Gloria’s already on it.”
Carolyn should’ve guessed as much.
“Grady might need heart surgery later,” Jim said, “but for now the danger has passed.”
“I’m grateful for that,” she said as she headed toward her car.
“Gloria’s arranged for flowers to be sent and she’s taken care of the insurance stuff.” He gestured toward the office. “She left early to meet Grady’s family at the hospital.”
“Good. I wondered where she’d gone.”
“You can always count on Gloria,” he said warmly. Reverting to a more businesslike tone, he added, “I’ll have an accident report on your desk first thing in the morning.”
“Thanks.” Carolyn turned back, deciding to spend another half hour at the office. Her dinner preparations were under control and her house was clean. “If you see Dave before I do, would you tell him I’d like to talk to him?”
Jim smiled and promised he would.
Carolyn had been walking on air after closing the deal, but this near-disaster had brought her back to earth fast enough. Strolling beside Jim, she’d almost reached the office when he commented, “I’ve seen Dave around and I like his work ethic.”
“I do, too.” She didn’t mention that her yard at the house hadn’t looked this good in years.
“I offered him a job.”
That had been Carolyn’s intention. She was grateful for his quick action in saving Grady’s life; his decisiveness and commitment made him the kind of employee she wanted at the mill. Whatever she invested in training him would be worth it.
“He thanked me for the offer,” Jim continued, “but said he liked his current job just fine. I told him what his starting wage would be and I’m sure it’s more than he’s making now, but he wasn’t interested.”
Carolyn didn’t know whether she should be disappointed or gratified on behalf of her garden. She was pleased with the work he was doing, but surprised that he’d walked away from a job offer that would likely double his income.
She shrugged. “It’s his choice.”
“I think he drifts around a lot,” Jim said. “I asked him where he was from and he told me he’d been living in California, and before that, Arizona and that he picked fruit in Yakima for a season. I’ve met men like him before. They don’t put down roots.”
Carolyn nodded, inhaling deeply. Ponderosa pine and fir scented the afternoon air. As a child, she’d loved the smell of her father’s clothes. Now her own shirts carried the same woodsy fragrance. To her, it was more enticing than the most exotic perfume.
They turned the corner just as the whistle blew. All around her the crew shut down their machines and, within moments, the buildings and yards emptied as men sauntered past, their black lunch boxes in hand. She enjoyed the sound of their talk and laughter, and the fact that they acknowledged her with nods or waves.
Carolyn ended up staying for an extra hour. She finished reading through her e-mail, checked on Grady’s condition—which was improving—and then closed her computer before going home.
As she made her way down the long driveway, she noticed the landscaping truck parked outside her house. The bed was loaded with beauty bark, which Dave Langevin had begun spreading over her flower beds. Carolyn was pleased to see him.
She parked in the garage, then stepped out of her vehicle and walked toward him.
Dave was a middle-aged man with dark hair, callused hands and deep-set dark eyes. He wore nondescript work clothes and a big straw hat that shaded his face. As she drew closer, he thrust his shovel into the earth and leaned against the handle.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here,” she said.
He wiped the back of one hand across his brow. “Your housekeeper said you were having dinner guests, and I wanted to get this beauty bark spread before they arrived.”
It was thoughtful of him, and unexpected. “Thank you,” she said simply, feeling a bit awkward. “And thank you for your help this afternoon at the mill. Jim told me what you did.”
Dave seemed almost embarrassed by her praise. “No big deal.”
“I doubt Grady thinks that. Jim said you saved his life.”
Dave stared down at the ground, then pulled out the shovel. “Better get back to work,” he said tersely.
“I understand, but I wanted you to know I appreciate what you did. Thank you again, Dave.”
He seemed surprised that she knew who he was. For a long moment, he held her gaze. “You’re welcome…Carolyn.”
Just the way he said her name made her look at him again, really look at him. When she saw that her scrutiny unsettled him, she turned and hurried into the house. The oddest sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. The last time she’d felt anything like this had been the day she’d met her husband, her long-divorced husband. There’d been a powerful physical attraction between them and she felt the same thing now, with this man. This groundskeeper who’d let it be known that he was a drifter. She was attracted to Dave Langevin. It was an uncomfortable sensation, one that left her vulnerable and alarmed. At her age and in her position, she couldn’t afford to be interested in romance. And yet, there was something about him…. Responsibility, common sense—and lack of time—won out, otherwise she would’ve invited him in or found an excuse for him to linger. But knowing her dinner guests would be coming soon saved her from making a fool of herself.
Despite her wariness, Carolyn studied Dave from inside the house. After ten or fifteen minutes, he walked over to his pickup truck and stored his equipment on the passenger seat. He opened the driver’s door and then, as if aware of her surveillance, he paused and looked over his shoulder at her.
Embarrassed, Carolyn ducked away from the window and into the shadows, mortified that he’d caught her watching him.
Touching the rim of his large straw hat, he climbed into the truck and drove off. As he rumbled down the driveway Carolyn couldn’t shake the feeling that—if she were to allow it, if she were to seek it—Dave Langevin would be interested in her, too.
CHAPTER 12
Susannah no longer felt sociable, but it was too late to cancel out of dinner with Carolyn and the others. Dreading the evening, she sat at the table in her mother’s kitchen and tried to relax. Vivian hadn’t had a good afternoon and Susannah felt guilty about leaving her, guilty for having read her mother’s private thoughts and then questioning her as if she had the right. Susannah blamed herself for Vivian’s melancholy mood, which seemed to reflect her own dissatisfaction with life. She’d made a mistake in reminding her mother of unattained dreams; a bigger mistake was bringing it up again today.
She’d mentioned searching for Jake to Carolyn but she’d done nothing, fearing…she didn’t know what. Fearing, she guessed, what she might feel once she found him. If she found him. It was quite possibly the most inane idea of her life and still she couldn’t let it go, couldn’t get the thought of him out of her mind.
Because she was dissatisfied with her own life, Susannah had questioned her mother about the choices Vivian had made. She should’ve known better. Her mother had grown even more irritable than she’d been last night, claiming that Susannah was looking for excuses to vilify her father.
That simply wasn’t true. All she’d wanted her mother to do was acknowledge the truth. Twice, in two different journal entries, Vivian had written about her desire to enter a nursing program and both times she’d been thwarted by George. Now her mother insisted a nursing career hadn’t been that important.
Because of Susannah’s questions, it had been an awkward visit; she felt bad about that. Later Vivian had refused to eat her dinner and lain down for a nap instead.
The rest of Susannah’s day had been spent working. She’d rented storage space and started taking packed cardboard boxes to the unit for safekeeping until she decided what to do with the house. More and more, Susannah realized her mother was incapable of making even the most mundane decisions. Like everything else, this would be up to her. In a midday phone conversation, Joe had suggested that renting storage space might be the best solution for now. He was right and Susannah had immediately called to arrange it. She appreciated the advice but felt he didn’t understand the emotional difficulties she was facing.
Susannah was not only dealing with her mother, she was sorting through a lifetime of accumulated things. It seemed her mother had never discarded a single dish or piece of clothing, and her father wasn’t much better. For decades, she’d largely avoided her father and now, every time she opened a drawer, there he was. The memories of her teenage years made her uncomfortable. Because he was a judge, he felt he could dictate everyone’s life, whether he had a gavel in hand or not.
After talking to her husband, Susannah found she was annoyed with him, too, unreasonable though that might be. He was in Seattle, living his normal, predictable life, and she was stuck in Colville. She didn’t want to decide what to do with Aunt Sophie’s handknit bedspread or her father’s stamp collection. It was easy for Joe to sit at home and make helpful suggestions, she thought bitterly. Susannah knew he was only trying to be supportive, but at this point she doubted there was much he could do or say that would satisfy her—and that bothered her, too. Almost overnight she’d turned into someone she didn’t know or like. Even spending time in her mother’s garden hadn’t calmed her the way it usually did. In fact, she’d come away irritated all over again. How was it that her mother couldn’t manage the simplest of household tasks and yet kept her garden in pristine condition? It was as if Vivian had let everything slide except her garden—her life, her appearance, her mind were just about gone, but not her garden. No, not her precious garden.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Susannah buried her face in her hands. She was upset with her father and her husband, and now she’d added her mother to the list, and Doug, too. If her brother were alive, she wouldn’t have to cope with all these painful decisions alone. She knew it was a fruitless thought, but she couldn’t stop feeling that way. She wished she could be seventeen again, before the year that changed everything. The year of Doug’s death and Jake’s disappearance. If she was, she wouldn’t think twice about eloping. More than that, she’d leap at the chance. Oh, to be young again, to be in love with the fervor and intensity of youth. Only this time, she’d defy her father, stand up to him and run away with the man she loved.
At six-thirty, Susannah pulled into Carolyn’s long gravel driveway and, as if by magic, her unease left her. She’d loved this house as a young teenager. Tucked against the foothills, it had a lush green lawn that sloped down from the tree line into a soft meadow. Many a late afternoon had been spent with Carolyn, listening to records in her upstairs bedroom and looking out her window, watching the deer graze.
The house itself was a brown-shingled two-story with a sweeping porch across the front. A profusion of roses bloomed in the beds nearby. It was a shame
that Carolyn’s mother and her own had never become friends, since they’d shared a love of gardening. A large cement patio was positioned on the right-hand side of the house, complete with a set of matching outdoor furniture.
Susannah parked by the three-car garage and reached for her contributions: a package that contained the makings for a Caesar salad and a bottle of wine she’d picked up at the grocery store on her way out of town. She felt a twinge of guilt about bringing something store-bought, but between packing up the house and visiting her mother, there hadn’t been time to prepare anything.
The front door was open and the screen unlatched when Susannah approached.
“Come on in,” Carolyn called from the kitchen.
Susannah walked inside. Her friend was assembling an appetizer plate of cheeses, fresh green grapes and crackers, which sat on the marble counter.
“I brought wine,” Susannah said, holding up the bottle of white zinfandel. She placed the bag of Caesar salad fixings on the table.
“Great.” Carolyn motioned toward the cupboard. “Wineglasses are on the top shelf. And you’ll find a bowl in the bottom cupboard.”
Susannah quickly prepared her salad. She’d begun setting out wineglasses when the sound of two car doors closing interrupted her.
A moment later, two of Susannah’s high school friends walked in together, each carrying a dish and a bottle of wine. From the way Lisa and Yvette looked around, it was clear they’d never been inside the house. Susannah came forward to meet them, and as soon as they saw her, they both started screeching with delight.
Once they’d put the desserts and the wine aside, Susannah was wrapped in a giant hug and questions were tossed at her in quick succession.
“How long will you be in town?”
“Where have you been?”
“Why weren’t you at the last reunion?”
Before she could answer one question, another presented itself.
“Give her a break, will you?” Sandy Giddings said as she entered the house. She plunked her bottle of wine and a pan of homemade brownies on the kitchen counter. Carolyn brought a huge spinach salad out of the refrigerator and tossed it, letting it wait on the table beside Susannah’s.
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