Hearts in Hiding

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Hearts in Hiding Page 10

by Patty Smith Hall


  “You don’t get it, do you?”

  She glanced up to find Beau glaring at her. Why did he look so stern? “What?”

  The tension she heard in his voice suddenly made her nervous. “You can’t help the Stephenses or their neighbors, Edie, and the sooner you realize it, the safer everyone will be.”

  * * *

  “Safer?”

  Beau gripped his fingers around the curved end of the rocker’s arms. It wasn’t Edie’s fault she didn’t understand the way things were around here. But someone needed to tell her, and it might as well be him.

  “Do you have any idea how much danger Gert and her father put themselves in tonight, just driving you over here? Anybody sees them, the wrong person notices that they’re out on this side of town after dark, and they could…” He swallowed, the words knotting in his throat. Edie needed only enough information to make her think, not to scare her. “There’s a lot of people who wouldn’t mind giving the Stephenses a hard time.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Pale moonlight revealed the pained look around her eyes, the slight tremble of her parted lips. He reached over and covered her hand with his. “I know.”

  “It’s just not fair.”

  Beau nodded. When had life ever been fair? “Merrilee used to tell me that God didn’t promise us that everything in life would be fair, only that He’d be with us when it wasn’t.”

  “Sounds like something your aunt would say.” Edie leaned her head back against the headrest. “It’s just hard to live it sometimes.”

  The whisper of hopelessness in her voice touched something in him. It wasn’t just the situation with the Stephenses that had Edie upset. No, only something more personal could cause the soul-wrenching pain he heard in her answer.

  Without thinking, his thumb comforted the line of her knuckles, following the rise and fall of each delicate bone. She really was a dainty thing, and yet he sensed a strength in her that could match most men.

  “Edwina?”

  She lifted her head until her gaze met his, her eyes wide and luminous as if tears had gathered there but she had refused to let them fall. She drew in a shaky breath through parted lips, and Beau couldn’t breathe. The crickets chirped a soft melody sweeter than any love song he had ever heard. He leaned toward her. Or had she met him halfway?

  A muffled voice within the house drew him up short. What was he doing, holding Edie’s hand like some besotted boy in the school yard? Protecting Merrilee and Claire had to be his first priority, and until he learned more about this beautiful German woman, she posed a possible threat.

  Edie must have had second thoughts, too, for she reclaimed her hand and scooted back into her chair, as far away from him as she could. “Well, just because things have always been one way doesn’t mean they can’t change.”

  He blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  The rocking chair swayed in a mesmerizing rhythm when Edie stood. “Gertie needs a job, Beau, and she’s not going to get one if no one can reach her. And what if something horrible happens and those people need help? Someone has to do something.”

  An icy finger of dread slithered down his spine. “What are you saying?”

  She gave him a determined smile, and he knew she had pushed whatever had passed between them just seconds ago from her mind. “I’m going down to the telephone company after work tomorrow to get them to run phone service into Gertie’s neighborhood.”

  Had the woman not listened to a word he’d said? Forcing Ben Cantrell and those cronies at the phone company to string up lines down to the Stephenses was asking for trouble, and not just for Gertie and her family, but for Edie, too.

  Beau glanced up at her. Well, if she intended to do this, she’d need some help.

  He settled back against the chair, almost certain he’d lost what common sense he had.

  “If that’s your decision, I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

  * * *

  “A business proposition?”

  Edie grasped the back of the rocker, her bones turned to leaded weight, holding her in place. Her father had used those same words that morning he’d joined her in the kitchen two days after her college graduation. Companies weren’t hiring with the economy still in shambles, much less considering a female architect. Why didn’t she go and stay with her grandparents in Dusseldorf? Germany needed bright men and women to further Hitler’s vision for Europe and throughout the world. Her talents would be greatly appreciated back home.

  Only Germany wasn’t her home, and never had been.

  “Edie?”

  “What’s your proposition?” Her steady voice surprised her. Years of practice, of hiding the truth.

  “I hear you’re an architect.”

  Edie blinked. Not exactly the direction she’d thought this conversation would go, but then, what had she expected from Beau Daniels? “Yes, why?”

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my father has a farm a few miles from here off Powder Springs Road.”

  That was news to her. “Then why was he freeloading on Merrilee before he got arrested?”

  He shook his head. “Probably wanted to keep his eye on Merrilee to make sure he knew if she slipped up.”

  “Sounds like him.” But what about his son? Was Beau here following through with his father’s plans?

  “Anyway, taxes are due and if they’re not paid, he loses the house.” Edie started to speak, but Beau’s raised hand stopped her. “Now I know that would be poetic justice, but it’s the only place my brothers think of as home.”

  “But not you?”

  He didn’t answer her but got right to his point. “With all the folks moving in the area to work at the plant, I thought I might be able to rent it out.”

  The idea had a lot of merit. “What does your dad think about this?”

  Beau’s low chuckle penetrated the quiet of the night. “I can only imagine. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone just yet.”

  “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me being an architect?”

  “Right,” he answered, the chair rocking back and forth in a sluggish rhythm. “I just remember the living room floors sagging and some cracks in the kitchen walls. I want to make sure the place is safe.”

  Now she understood. “It could be something as simple as the foundation settling.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to put someone in there, and then have the house fall down around them.”

  She nodded. Smart move. “And you want me to give you my opinion?”

  “Yes, and in return, I’ll do something for you.”

  A favor? “And what would that be?”

  Beau stood. Suddenly the open-air porch felt smaller, more compact, as he walked the few steps it took to stand beside her. The pleasant smell of soap and pure male scented the moist air around her, filling her lungs, making her long for…what? She tilted her head back to look up at him, but only gazed into the shadows of his face.

  “I’ll help you get Gertie her telephone.”

  She eyed him with suspicion. What had changed his mind so quickly? It had to be more than just fixing up an old house to rent out. “Why?”

  “Why what?” he echoed.

  Edie leaned a hip against the railing, knotting her arms in front of her. “Why the sudden change? Five minutes ago, you thought me helping the Stephenses was a bad idea.”

  “I still think it’s not the most thought-out plan, but if you’re determined to do this, you’re going to need help.”

  Maybe, but then why the business proposition? “Why are you really renting out your father’s house?”

  He tensed beside her. “Because I have to hire a lawyer to defend him, and most of the ones I’ve heard from want quite a bit of money.”

  Edie sucked in a hard breath, the faint smell of smoke from the explosion James Daniels had set off with his moonshine still lingering in her memory. The man had been lucky no one had been kil
led. “I’m sorry, Beau, but there is no way in this world I’m going to help your father get out of jail. I’ll have to convince Mr. Cantrell to string those phone lines all by myself.”

  Chapter Eight

  “But Mr. Cantrell, be reasonable.”

  Edie stared across the cherrywood desk at Ben Cantrell, owner and chairman of the Marietta Telephone and Telegraph Company, and knew her fifth request in two weeks was a lost cause.

  “Ms. Michaels.” The man stood, his long, lanky frame unfolding behind the desk until he towered over her. With his spindly arms and wire-rimmed glasses, he looked like one of the telephone poles his company erected along the roadsides. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a war going on. We just can’t use up all of our resources on a community that’s done quite well without phone service for many years. It would be unpatriotic.”

  What silliness! Edie leaned back, resting her elbows on the armrest of the leathered chair, her gloved hands tented in front of her. “Are you telling me that the phone company has stopped installing service for the duration of the war?”

  Cantrell’s face turned beet red, though from embarrassment or anger, she wasn’t sure. “Why do you care, Ms. Michaels?”

  Edie straightened. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve only been in Marietta for what, a little over a year? And that’s because you have a job at the bomber plant, isn’t it?”

  So Cantrell had done a little digging, just like Beau said he would. Well, what did it matter how long she’d been in town? What mattered was getting those phone lines strung. “And the Stephenses have been a part of this community for many years, so what’s your point?”

  “The point is, it costs money to plant and wire telephone lines, funds this community doesn’t have.” He gave her a scathing glance. “I don’t think the citizens of this town would appreciate an outsider coming in and telling us how to run our business.”

  Edie felt as if she’d been slapped. Never once in the time she had moved to Marietta had anyone ever treated her as—what had Cantrell called her—an outsider. The idea of giving up crossed her mind, but she couldn’t. Gertie needed a phone to secure a new job.

  She tipped her head back and looked at Cantrell. “What kind of price tag are we looking at?”

  If she thought her question would shock him, she was wrong. The figure he gave her almost made her gasp, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Gertie’s neighborhood would never be able to come up with that kind of cash. And while she had some savings, it wasn’t nearly enough.

  There had to be a way for her to bankroll the project. Beau’s job offer floated through her mind. She couldn’t take it, not if Beau intended to use the rent money to help in his father’s defense. It would be like working for Merrilee’s enemy. No, there had to be another way to get that much cash.

  Edie stood and extended her hand to the man across the desk. “Well, thank you, Mr. Cantrell. I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

  “Of course, Ms. Michaels.” Rounding the corner of his desk, he shook her hand. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you.”

  “Oh, but you did.” Edie pulled her hand out of his grasp, schooling her features to remain neutral when confusion flashed across his face. “Now that I know how much the installation will be, I’ll make sure to have a bank draft drawn up for that amount the next time I come by.”

  “Ms. Michaels…”

  But Edie refused to give the man time to finish, grabbing her purse and turning toward the door. Three quick steps and Cantrell’s door clicked shut behind her. She managed to hold herself together through the maze of offices until she finally reached the double glass doors.

  Afternoon sunlight bathed the sidewalk with warmth, but Edie felt chilled to the bone. How was she going to come up with that much cash? She leaned back against the marble and closed her eyes.

  “So how did it go?”

  Beau! She’d managed to avoid the man for the most part these past two weeks since turning down his offer to inspect his father’s house. Rising early for work and not coming home until the sun faded from the horizon had put some distance between them. Even Dr. Lovinggood had managed to help by assigning her to different patients when she was at the hospital.

  But it hadn’t meant she hadn’t noticed him, bent over a patient, his focus solely on giving them the best possible health care. She’d seen the same kind of consideration in the way he treated Claire, always with respect despite her young age.

  But she couldn’t help him with James’s house. Could she?

  Edie gave herself a mental shake. Of course not! She opened her eyes to see Beau walking toward her. Sometime between last night and this afternoon, he’d been to a barber, his thick auburn hair trimmed into a short style that made the angles of his face impossibly more masculine. The faint tang of his aftershave in her nose caused her stomach to do a pleasant flip.

  She turned her head away. So she was attracted to the man. Who wouldn’t be? But it wasn’t the way he smiled at her that tugged at her heart. No, it was something else, something more—but until she was free from the scandal that had driven her away from home, from the kidnapping threats of the Bund, she couldn’t think about the tug Beau seemed to have on her heart.

  “So what did Ben say?”

  She shook her head. “That it’s going to take an arm and a leg to get those lines strung out to Gertie’s.”

  He let out a low whistle at the figure she gave him. “What does he think you’re going to do, rob a bank?”

  She shrugged. “You know us outsiders. We’re liable to do anything.”

  “He said that to you?” Beau let out a shout of laughter. “At least he didn’t call you a Yankee.”

  “But I’m from Michigan.”

  “You may think you’re a Midwesterner, but anything north of the Mason-Dixon Line is Yankee country around here.”

  A Yankee German. A bubble of laughter caught in her throat. “Well, that’s a new one.”

  His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she glanced up. Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes and mouth, causing her heart to thunder a strange beat she’d never heard. Despite her disappointment with Mr. Cantrell, she couldn’t help the laughter that had her grabbing her side, the pure freedom of the moment rushing through her, leaving her warm and relaxed for the first time in months.

  “Come with me.” Beau’s hand at her shoulder slid down the length of her spine to the arch in her back, causing a pleasant tingle to zip along her nerve endings. With a gentle press of his fingers, he showed her to a nearby alley. “No sense giving everyone in town something to talk about.”

  Was that what he worried about, people talking about them? Grabbing her purse from under her arm, Edie took an uncertain step away from him. “Well, maybe the folks around here ought to be talking. Maybe they ought to know that there are people who don’t have the means to call for help if they need it.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to convince me.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m with you on this one.”

  “You are?” She shook her purse at him. “But you said…”

  “I know what I said, and I still believe you need to consider the Stephenses’ safety against this need for a phone.” He dropped his hand to his side, leaving her with the vague sense of loneliness. “And I’m not just thinking about the Stephenses. There are folks around who wouldn’t think twice about causing problems for you, too.”

  Edie’s stomach fluttered. She worried so long over her safety, she’d never thought of someone else wanting to protect her, too. But Beau did, though she hadn’t really been on her best behavior with him. So why do it? Was it because he was as drawn to her as she was to him?

  She hoped not, for both of their sakes.

  Edie clutched her purse between gloved fingers. “What am I going to do, Beau? I don’t have near enough money in my accounts to pay Cantrell.”

  “You might if you’d reconsider helping me with my dad’s hou
se.”

  Wrapping her arms around her waist, she shook her head. “No.”

  His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. “What do you mean no?”

  “I mean, I’m the one who started this. It’s my responsibility.” She rattled her brain for a better excuse. “You can’t possibly swing it, not with your dad and the house.”

  “I’d rather give the money to the phone company than to defending my dad.”

  He probably meant it, but she knew he wouldn’t. Beau cared too much, even for his father. “I’ll find it, someway.”

  Beau didn’t look too happy with her answer but he didn’t argue. “Why don’t you reconsider helping me out with my dad’s house? I know you’re not crazy about the thought of doing anything for him, but it would sure help me out.”

  Edie bit the tender flesh of her bottom lip. It wouldn’t be a good idea to work so close to Beau, not when she longed to know him better, understand why he’d come back home after leaving all those years ago. Oh, she knew he wanted to take care of Merrilee and Claire—who wouldn’t want to be around those two? But Edie couldn’t shake that something else had brought him back to Marietta, some unfinished business Beau didn’t even recognize yet.

  Could she risk helping him? Edie gave him a quick glance. A long white coat hung open, hugging the muscles in his arms and chest, a stethoscope draped around his neck. Dr. Lovinggood had let it slip when she’d helped him suture Imogene Reynolds’s cut hand that he was looking into scholarships to help Beau get to medical school but he needed his degree first. There would never be enough money with James Daniels’s legal fees hanging over his head. And if anyone deserved to be a doctor, it was Beau.

  “Whatever you can’t cover, I’ll pay you to work on the house.”

  Edie hated the thought of taking his money, but it was a job. A business venture. Keep telling yourself that, and you might believe it eventually.

  “You’ve got yourself an architect.” Edie held out her hand to him, not quite prepared for the shock of warmth that skirted up her arm when his fingers touched hers. She could ignore these feelings—she had to. For the Stephenses’ sake.

 

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