by Lois Richer
“Is it that Brian fellow’s?”
His question was impertinent and Maggie should have told him to mind his own business. Instead, she let him in on the truth.
“It could be. He’s asked me to marry him. Brian even wants the girls. There are a lot of men who wouldn’t be interested in a ready-made family.”
“And there are a lot of men who would kill for one,” she heard Grady mutter under his breath. But when he lifted his head, his face was free of any emotion.
“You must think I’m a terrible mother,” she murmured, staring through the windshield at the children still racing around the lawns. “I love my daughters. But I want more for them than a meager, hand-to-mouth existence on that farm.” She heard her own voice harden and felt the anger once more.
“I want Keeley to have the facilities available where she can learn all she wants about the latest in computers, not just play on a used one I bought from a friend. I want her to have a top-notch teacher who will help her with her piano. Mildred Springs does her best, but she hasn’t had the training. Besides, Keeley’s learned all she can from Mildred.”
He listened, Maggie had to admit. Unlike her parents, Grady actually seemed to hear what she was saying.
“And Katy?” His voice was low and concerned. “What about Katy? Her whole world revolves around the farm and her animals. Would you ask her to give it all up?”
“No, of course not!” Maggie glared at him angrily as the prick of conscience nagged at her deep inside. “But Katy hasn’t known anything else. Once she saw the sports that were available to her—the swimming and track and volleyball that she could participate in, year-round—the farm would soon lose its attraction.”
“Are you sure, Maggie?” He pointed to the little girl who sat sprawled on the church lawn, playing with five tiny kittens. “Are you sure that what Katy really needs is to move away from her friends and people she’s known all her life into a nameless, faceless city?” He nodded toward Keeley, standing nearby, giggling with a group of girls.
The words cut at her, eating away the little bit of resolve that she’d gathered over months of soul searching.
“I don’t know why I even told you,” she told him. “You can’t possibly understand what it’s like. The eighteen-hour days, the unending bills, the tasks that really need doing but have to wait because you just don’t have the energy or the strength or the resources to do it all alone.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Alone—that’s the worst part. Without anyone to talk it over with or discuss options, knowing the whole world rests on your shoulders.”
“But you have your parents.”
“Yes,” she agreed tiredly, leaning her head back against the smooth leather rest. “They are wonderful. They help me out far more than I could have ever asked, and I love them dearly, but can’t you see? They’re getting older. They’re tired. They need a break even more than I do, and I hate,” she ground out viciously, “hate always dumping my problems on them when they’ve got their own lives to lead. They should be traveling south in the winter, like other retired couples.” A tear dropped onto her open palm and she closed her fist around it in frustration.
When Grady finally spoke, his words were slow, as if he’d thought about them carefully first. “I know you don’t think I understand. And I probably don’t,” he admitted quietly. “I cannot imagine how you’ve managed with small children and the farm and everything these past few years.” He stopped and then went on more slowly. “But you have everything here. A family, a home, neighbors and friends you care about, a little bit of heaven carved out of this impersonal, industrialized, polluted earth.” Grady’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. “I just don’t understand how you can even think of giving it all up.”
Maggie laughed mirthlessly, gathering her sweater around her. Suddenly the cab seemed cold. It mirrored her insides perfectly.
“I’d give it up in a minute,” she whispered raggedly. “I’d gladly leave this place right now if I could be assured of a little peace and security in my future.”
Grady shook his head. “There’s no such guarantee in this life,” he told her harshly. “And I, of all people, know what I’m talking about.”
Maggie stared at him, stunned by the anger and pain in his voice. But she was prevented from asking him about it by the simple reason that he opened his window and called to the girls.
“We want to get on the way for our picnic,” he told them, smiling as if nothing mattered more than getting them a bucket of chicken and basking in the sun. “I think we should go down by your creek.” He smiled as he helped each child into her seat. “That way we could swim if we get too hot.”
Maggie took the high-pitched squeals of excitement in the back seat as agreement with this plan, but she couldn’t forget the look of agony on Grady’s face the moment before. Nor could she help noticing the way his features softened when he spoke to her daughters, or miss his tender touch on each blond head.
What is in Grady O’Toole’s past that caused such terrible pain that only my life seems able to assuage?
It was a good question. Unfortunately, the answer eluded her.
Chapter Five
“Maggie McCarthy, I’m going to skin you alive!” Grady glared at the local crop duster as the words rolled through his brain. He was furious with her. “When did Mrs. McCarthy tell you not to do her fields?” he demanded with his lips pursed.
Buster McLean shifted from one filthy booted foot to the other, his gaze downcast. Not that it mattered, Grady decided grimly. The man wore a greasy cap pulled low on his forehead and it was difficult to even find his eyes, let alone read them.
“Well, like I said, it was right after I told her the cost. I do this to support my own farming operation, you see. I know Maggie needs the work done all right,” he apologized, shoving his hands even deeper into jeans that seemed destined to pool around his size-sixteen feet. “But I gotta pay for the stuff out of my own pocket. That’s why I need to be paid up front. If she can’t pay, I can’t spray.” He grinned stupidly at the little rhyme and then shrugged as Grady lowered his eyebrows menacingly.
“How much?” Grady kept his tones low. When the answer came, he merely stared, eyes widening expectantly. “No,” he said quietly, flicking the bug off his arm as if to emphasize his point. “I meant what is your best price on this particular job? And don’t expect anyone to barter you down. Either you want the job or you don’t.”
Buster tugged off his hat and scratched his forehead with fingers that hadn’t seen water in a while. He had beady little eyes, Grady noticed. They seemed to shift back and forth and around, everywhere but on him.
“You don’t want terms?” he asked querulously.
“No terms,” Grady agreed. “Mrs. McCarthy pays cash on the barrel head.”
“Oh. Well, see, cash is a different matter altogether. Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” And Buster named a figure that was considerably below his first one.
“Fine.” Grady pulled out a check, filled it out and signed it with a flourish. “You’d better make sure it’s a good job,” he told the other man. “And she wants an early-morning spray, when it’s calm and the kids are still inside.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Buster slapped his filthy cap back on his balding head and stuffed the check into his pocket. “I suppose I could come over tomorrow about six,” he offered, hitching up his pants.
“Make it five,” Grady told him smoothly. “And I want a bill for that check. Marked ‘Paid in full.’” He waited while Buster dug around in his truck for a pad and wrote out the receipt. “I’d appreciate it if you could go through me in any future dealings,” he murmured, folding the paper and tucking it into his shirt pocket. “Mrs. McCarthy is pretty stressed-out these days.”
“Ain’t much of a wonder.” Buster grunted, heaving his girth up into the seat. “Truth to tell, most of us figured she would have bailed out long ago.”
“And as long
as she was around and still kicking, I guess you just thought maybe you could keep skimming, is that it?” Grady nailed the guy with his sternest look. “The way I figure it, you’ve been making things tougher for her instead of easier. So maybe, as a helpful friendly gesture, you can come by on Saturday. She could use your help at fixing up the barn.”
Buster had the grace to turn red as a beet under such straight talk. “I never tried to take her,” he blustered loudly. “It’s just that with her having so many bills and all, I thought it would be best to add some interest and sorta make sure of things. It’s just business.” He blabbered on for several minutes before promising he’d be there.
“Well, thank you, Buster. That’s right neighborly of you.” Grady smiled in his best down-home fashion. “You might mention it to Burt Copperfield, too. I’m sure he’d want to help out. Say!” Grady opened his eyes up wide and innocent. “Isn’t he the guy that did some plumbing work on the McCarthy house last fall?” He pretended to think for a minute and then shook his head ruefully.
“On second thought, don’t ask him, Buster,” he pleaded sadly. “The guy’s useless. Why, I was down checking over the pressure system for Mrs. McCarthy late last night, and I have to say I never saw such a mess of a job in my life. And the price he charged!”
Grady suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. “Oh, brother,” he gasped in pretended chagrin, averting his eyes, “I hope I didn’t say anything out of turn. You’re not, er, friends, or anything, are you?”
“He’s my brother-in-law,” Buster told him, lifting his head a fraction to study Grady’s face. “And he usually does very good work!”
“He is? He does?” Grady kept his face straight. “Oh. Maybe this was just a rare occurrence then.” He tried to look apologetic. “Don’t mention it, will you? I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, although with that soldering, I don’t know how he makes a living.” He shrugged and let that sink in a little longer before turning away. “See you Saturday, Buster.”
“Yeah.” Buster’s voice was thoughtful. “I’ll be there.” And he drove away at about half the speed he’d driven up.
“You do that,” Grady muttered to himself as he watched the brand-new four-by-four pass through the gates. He pulled on the leather gloves Maggie had insisted he wear. He just bet Buster would be bringing along Burt, the plumber, as well. Grady grinned at the dog and tugged the roto tiller on once more.
Grady ploughed through the dark black topsoil around the spruce trees that framed the yard site. It would be interesting to see just what happened on Saturday, and he was looking forward to watching Maggie’s face when it did.
That was, if he got back in time.
“I’m coming in on Friday, Harvey,” he informed his lawyer minutes later on the cell phone he always carried. “I have to know how things stand, if I have a future.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Grady.” Harvey snorted. “Of course you have a future. Your trust is as secure as it ever was. She can’t touch that at least.”
“You hope! And my reputation? My business? My friends?” Grady said the words, knowing that it was fruitless to ask. Nothing could undo the damage Fiona had done.
“Your real friends are still here, waiting for you to call. Is it worth worrying about the others?”
“And Shaughnessy’s? Is it going to fold?” Grady held his breath, his heart aching for the people who had worked so hard to help him build his company up from nothing.
“I closed it down, Grady. I handed out notices and laid everyone off so that they could at least collect employment insurance.”
“You what?” Grady glanced toward the house to make sure no one noticed him.
“I had to, old son. They’ve tied us up for so long that business has really dropped, and no one was bringing in any new accounts. This way, your staff can at least try to get work somewhere else until you start up again. I sold all the equipment and furniture and used it to pay bonuses. Grady? Are you there?”
Grady sank down onto the ground, his heart racing a mile a minute. Gone. It was all gone. Without any pomp and circumstance. Without him even knowing it. Fiona had taken away his precious company without even really trying.
Harvey was shouting his name and Grady could hear the fear in his voice.
“I’m here,” he whispered at last. “Just thinking.”
“You scared me out of my tree,” Harvey said. Grady could imagine his lawyer flopping into his black leather chair and grinned tiredly when a squeak of protest signaled just such an action over the phone line.
“Did Fiona say anything?” It galled him to ask it, but Grady swallowed his pride and waited for some indication that his ex-wife cared that his company was now defunct. Harvey’s nasty little laugh made him suddenly feel better.
“Well, now there’s the rub,” Harvey muttered. “Her lawyers didn’t even know till I’d cleaned the place out. Your staff was very good about keeping everything hush-hush. Everyone and everything was long gone by the time I got there to lock the door. Except for one thing.”
Harvey paused expectantly and Grady knew he was supposed to ask the next question. Swallowing thickly, he held the receiver tightly and said it in a choked voice that gave away his inner agitation. “What was left?”
“The welcome mat!” Harvey chortled heartily at his own joke, making Grady’s mouth tip in amusement. He could just imagine Fiona’s lawyers in their three-piece pin-striped suits, outraged at letting the not-inconsiderable tangible assets of Shaughnessy’s evade their greedy grasp.
“I told them they were welcome to it. With your compliments.” Harvey’s voice hardened. “I’ve filed petitions against your ex-wife and her legal eagles to hold them at bay while the board investigates your supposed crime. Just got the decision this morning. The judge agrees that they will have to wait a while until he can hear their case.”
“And what do we do until then?” Grady noticed the school bus pulling up, and suddenly wondered to himself why this phone call had seemed so urgent as two excited little girls tumbled down the steps.
“Grady, my friend, we send dear Fiona her monthly installment on the settlement she was promised until such time as she marries again as per the agreement. And nothing else. Not a dime. You don’t see her, you don’t talk to her. You stay safely where you are until I get this straightened out.”
Grady sighed, watching Katy throw herself into her mother’s arms and the laughing embrace Maggie gave her that ended in both of them flopping on the lawn. Seconds later Keeley had joined in and they were madly tickling each other.
“I want it over, Harvey,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I just want it finished. I want my life to begin again. If I have to pay her off to be free, then let’s just do it.”
“Not yet. First we’ll see what they’ve got,” Harvey suggested. “I have several investigators checking things out right now and I don’t want you jeopardizing my work at this delicate stage. Just stay where you are and relax. I’ll handle it for now.”
There was a pause and Grady could hear the rustle of papers being shuffled. He was ready to sign off when Harvey’s voice came back on the line. “By the way, where are you, anyway?”
Grady told him a little about the farm and Willow Bunch but he didn’t mention Maggie and her daughters He wasn’t sure why, except that it was none of Harvey’s business. Not yet anyway.
“It sounds wonderful,” Harvey agreed. “Enjoy it while you can. And stay away from here.”
Grady hung up after promising to do just that. He spent a long time watching the tall willowy woman chasing and tagging her giggling daughters.
Grimly he shook off the thought of the family he would never have, and yanked on the cord to start the tiller—Work, that was the only panacea. Work until he was too numb to feel the pain.
It might have been five minutes or an hour later that he became aware of the child on his right side, marching along as she kept step with him.
�
�Hi, Katy.” He switched off the motor reluctantly. “How was school?”
“Boring. We had that stupid social test today.” She kicked at a clump of dirt and then scrunched down to peer at the earthworm wiggling in the light. “Melinda Fairchild made fun of my braces again.” Her voice was soft but full of defiance.
“And?” He frowned down at Katy’s wide, easy smile. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
“Katy,” he warned in a low menacing voice.
“I didn’t!” Katy shrugged and stood, dusting her hands on her jeans. “Of course, she did get my gum stuck in her hair at recess, but that wasn’t my fault. She shouldn’t have leaned back when I was blowing bubbles. They had to cut it out and she has very long hair. Some of it’s a little shorter now.”
“Katy!” He tried to stifle the burst of laughter that rose in his throat at her innocent look and self-righteous tones. “That’s terrible.”
“So’s she,” Katy told him, snapping her gum with satisfaction. “She has more brand-name clothes than anyone and she still isn’t happy.”
“Things don’t make people happy, Katy. You can have all the things in the world and still be sadder than a beggar.” If anybody knows that, he thought, I do.
“I know,” Katy mumbled, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “But sometimes it would be nice if stuff was spread around a little more, don’t you think?” She pulled out a blade of grass and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Like if you took all the rich people and made them only half as rich, then there would be more for poor people like us.”
“We are not poor, Katy McCarthy!”
Grady and Katy straightened guiltily, wheeling round to see Maggie standing behind them, hands on her hips as she surveyed her daughter with a frown.
“We have food and clothes. Warm beds to sleep in and Granny and Grandpa nearby. That’s being pretty rich.”
“I know, Mom.” Katy hugged her mother’s waist in apology. “And I’m not complaining. Honest. It’s just that Melinda makes me so mad sometimes. She has so many toys and she won’t ever share!”