Blue Willow

Home > Other > Blue Willow > Page 47
Blue Willow Page 47

by Deborah Smith


  “Put all of that back. Put it back, damn you.”

  “I’ll pull the trigger, Daddy.” Joe’s voice had a taunting lilt. “I got nothing to lose but Colebrook’s money. And I ain’t gonna lose that.”

  “I’d rather be dead than see you this way.” The sound of a car made Hopewell jerk his arm down and glance out the window. Little Sis’s red Cougar was coming down the drive. Joe followed his gaze. He hid the gun inside his jacket and kicked the drawer shut with one foot. “You got a visitor. Now you don’t want other people to know what we’re up to, do you? We’re gonna make this deal with Colebrook and keep quiet about it. Because if we don’t, if we don’t, old man—” Joe smiled and let his voice trail off. He went to a key rack by the door, flipped a set of truck keys into his hand, and said lightly, “I’ll be over at a motel in town, Daddy.”

  Hopewell’s mute desperation was the only answer Joe needed. Laughing, he walked out of the house.

  “That was Joe,” Little Sis said, standing over him and pointing back toward the front door, as if he didn’t know. “I passed Joe on the way in. What’s he doing out of prison? I called out to him, but he just laughed at me. Why are you sitting here on your bed, in the dark?”

  “Be quiet, woman.” His voice shook. He pulled her down beside him and held her hand. She must have seen the despair in his face. “What happened?” she cried, stroking his cheek frantically. She would never be quiet. He should have known. He’d grown to love her chattering and her questions. Oh, God, he couldn’t tell her what was wrong. “He got out early. He come home. My boy came home, Sissy.”

  “Lord, you look like it’s the worst thing that ever happened.”

  “He’s bad, Sissy. He’s bad to the core, and I’ve lost him.”

  She murmured something sad and pulled his head to her shoulder. “Don’t talk like that.”

  He couldn’t tell her why. He could only wait and think, and then, when he was forced to, make the hardest decision of his life.

  Snow began falling, a rare sight this early in the season, even in the mountains, where winters were mild and the occasional white blankets of January and February sent everyone into hibernation for a day or two. Lily stood in the wintry new gardens of the Malloy Inn holding a plastic cup filled with champagne, snowflakes settling on her face like soft, wet kisses and giving a white patina to the bare shrubs and dormant flower beds. Aunt Maude and the sisters were clustered around her, with Mr. Malloy, Mr. Estes, Mr. Parks, and his sons, who had gulped their celebratory champagne with typical silent appreciation.

  Mr. Malloy surveyed the finished work and nodded. “I can’t wait to see it in the spring.”

  “You’re gonna love it,” Mr. Estes assured him. Though there was a subdued, almost bitter look on his face, he waved a champagne bottle with one hand and clapped the other on Lily’s back. “This lady knows her business. You’ll have the prettiest damned garden in Victoria.”

  Lily smiled dully and caught Aunt Maude’s worried glance. Lily had told Aunt Maude and the sisters about her and Artemas. Little Sis was certain Mr. Estes had mellowed enough to accept their relationship, even if he never forgave Artemas for helping put Joe in prison. Knowing that Joe was back in town made Lily nervous. She wasn’t sure of anything.

  The champagne created an acid taste in her throat. Artemas was waiting for her at the estate. By the time she arrived there this afternoon, his brothers and sisters would be at the house too. They had no idea why he’d asked them to come. Before this day ended, they would know. Her stomach churned, and she poured the last of the champagne onto the ground.

  “I want to talk to you about a maintenance contract,” Malloy said to her and Mr. Estes. “I’ll call you next week to discuss the details. With the reputation your work is getting, I don’t want you to be too busy by spring to accommodate me.”

  “Yeah, spring,” Mr. Estes echoed, his brows drawing together. He shuffled his feet, frowned, then shoved the champagne into Mr. Parks’s startled hands. Suddenly brusque, he said, “Well, let’s get this show on the road, before we all get covered in snow.”

  Malloy pulled a check from one pocket of his overcoat and handed it to Lily. “There’s your last payment. Merry Christmas. Thank you for a job well done. Here’s to the future.” Lily raised her empty cup. After Malloy shook their hands and hurried back into the inn, she tucked the check into Mr. Estes’s hand. “You can give me my part in a few days, after you pay Mr. Parks and his boys. I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later.”

  Mr. Estes peered at her. “I thought you was goin’ to Maude’s with us. I mean, we got some celebratin’ to do. We ought to have something to celebrate,” he added in a grim tone. He took Little Sis’s hand awkwardly. His gaze skittered when she gave him a wistful look. “You can’t leave me alone all afternoon decorating a Christmas tree with this gaggle of pushy women.”

  Big Sis spit tobacco juice. “Lily’s got better things to do than referee your social life.”

  “Like what?” Mr. Estes demanded, alert and almost fierce.

  “Sssh. She’s not welded to us old folks,” Little Sis interjected, tugging at his hand.

  Lily managed a smile. “I’ll see y’all later.”

  His scowl deepened. “Something’s going on here. I want to know what it is. Why aren’t you coming to Maude’s?”

  Aunt Maude stuck her jaw out. “Hush, you nosy old groundhog. Lily, you take off. This isn’t the time or the place to get into an argument.”

  “Why, it damned sure is the time and place,” Mr. Estes retorted.

  Lily felt the hopeless confrontation rising in her chest like a jackhammer. She leveled a troubled gaze at him. “You might as well know right now. I’m going to Blue Willow. Artemas is expecting me.”

  Mr. Estes gaped at her. “You been seeing him behind my back?”

  Before Lily could answer, Big Sis snorted. “How else could she see him? You’ve been holding your feud with him over her head all this time, making her think you’d turn your back on her if she so much as said a kind word to the man. Artemas Colebrook’s not your enemy, you bull-headed coot. Joe’s problems are Joe’s own fault, and I thought you’d figured that out. He’s treated you like dirt since he got home.”

  Little Sis pushed in front of Mr. Estes and gazed up at him. “Hopewell, Lily’s been good to you. She’s made her peace with Artemas Colebrook. She loves him, and he loves her—ever since they were kids, they were meant to be together. It’s finally come full circle. It was just a matter of time.”

  “He don’t love her,” Mr. Estes retorted, his face livid. He stared at Lily. “Were you waitin’ until this job was finished to tell me the truth?”

  “There wasn’t anything to tell, until recently.” Lily held out her hands, beseeching him. “Please try to understand. He and I have tried so hard to do what was best for everyone else. Now, we have to do what’s best for us too.”

  “You listen to me. He’s just scheming to ruin you all over again.”

  Lily continued to hold his outraged gaze without blinking. “You’re wrong. If you can put your stubborn ideas about him aside long enough to get to know him, you’ll see that. I’ve never asked you for anything but a fair chance. Will you give me that?”

  “I’m trying to keep you from making a terrible mistake.”

  “I want to keep working at my family’s home. I want to keep working with you. You have to tell me whether that’s going to be possible.”

  Mr. Estes sputtered. “Just like that? You drop this news on me and think it don’t change anything?” Little Sis gave a soft cry of alarm and disappointment. “Hopewell, you wouldn’t trash what you and Lily have accomplished. You can’t. I know you’re not capable of that.”

  “I don’t know what Colebrook’s up to, but I intend to find out. Y’all believe me, there’s more here than meets the eye. You’ll thank me for trying to keep Lily away from him.”

  Lily felt the pulse jumping in her throat. “I’ve made my choice. Do you want me t
o move out of my house?”

  “What do you care about your house? You’ll go live in that mansion of his and let him own you. Mark my words, he’ll make you sorry.”

  “Why in the world would you say that?” Aunt Maude asked, throwing up her hands. “If I’ve learned one thing about Artemas Colebrook over the years, it’s that he’d give his soul to keep from hurting Lily. This talk about him scheming against her doesn’t make any sense.”

  Little Sis leaned toward him, scrutinizing him desperately. “What makes you say such terrible things? Is it because Joe’s come back so much more hateful than he was before? Oh, Hopewell, don’t poison your mind because of your son.”

  Mr. Estes swallowed hard and stared at Little Sis as if he were seeing the last beautiful sunset of his life. He shook his head. “Sissy, Artemas Colebrook is the coldest, most conniving bastard—”

  “Stop,” Lily commanded, her throat tight. “I’m asking you again, Mr. Estes—I’ve got until February on the lease you gave me, but if you can’t accept my relationship with Artemas, then tell me now, and I’ll make plans to leave.”

  Breathless tension hung in the cold, snowy air. Mr. Estes straightened. “We had an understanding about the Colebrooks, and you broke it.” His tone was anguished and bitter. “You done it to yourself. It’s not my fault.”

  “Hopewell, no,” Little Sis begged. “I’ll never forgive you if you do this god-awful stupid thing.” She hurried to Maude’s station wagon at the street, got in, and slammed the door.

  His mouth trembled. He jerked Malloy’s check from his coat pocket and thrust it at Lily. “Take it. It oughta cover the money you spent fixing up the house. Consider it a settlement.”

  “You keep it. Pay Mr. Parks and his sons,” Lily answered, her voice low and controlled. “Throw the rest down a hole, if that’ll make you feel better. I don’t want any money from you. I want respect and understanding.”

  She walked away. He called after her, his voice hoarse, “It’s not me you’ll hate! It’s Colebrook!”

  Thirty

  Artemas was waiting by the doors to a private entrance below his rooms, and he flung them open before she stepped from the truck. She wore a simple gray dress and low pumps, with no coat. Snowflakes dusted the bright red mass of her upswept hair. He went down the stone steps to her, took one look at the fatigue and sorrow in her eyes, quickly put his arm around her, and led her upstairs. When they were inside an anteroom to the main suite, he brushed his fingertips over her hair and kissed her gently. “Rest a few minutes. I’ll get you a drink.”

  “No, I’d just like to sit down a minute.” Her hand wrapped in his, they walked into the library, and she sat on a couch before the fireplace, rubbing her arms through the dress’s long, slender sleeves. He settled beside her and took her cold hands. “I wish I could make you feel more comfortable—that this could be easier.”

  Lily leaned her forehead against his. “I’m fresh out of inspiration.” The defeat in her voice made him tilt her head back and study her shrewdly. “You’ve had trouble with Mr. Estes today.”

  She nodded. She told him what had happened. He sat back on the couch, steepled a hand to his forehead, and listened, his eyes darkening. When she finished, he said, “Don’t ask me not to fight this. I’ll talk to him. I’ll offer him money Whatever he wants for himself, or Joe—”

  “My fight, my home, my decision,” she said, shaking her head. She stroked a hand over his hair to soften the words. “Stay out of it.”

  “Not this time. You’re not going to lose everything again because of me.”

  Lily grasped his shoulders. Staring at him hard, she said, “It’s just a damned piece of land. Just dirt and trees and sentimental stories”—her voice broke—“and I’m done with it. Done with it. It will never be more important to me than you are.”

  Artemas stood quickly and pulled her up with him. “There’s one thing I can do, and it’s what I want more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” His eyes were harsh but loving. “After my grandfather died, my grandmother lived alone in this house with her dreams, believing that someday someone would love this place and fill it with the kind of happiness she’d lost.”

  Lily rested her hands over the center of his chest and looked up at him tenderly “She found that someone. You.”

  “No. You and me.” He reached inside his jacket and took something from the pocket.

  The ring had the unusual hue of old rose gold. Filigreed tendrils of gold as delicate as willow branches held a cluster of small diamonds and sapphires. “This was my grandmother’s engagement ring.” When Lily made a low sound of distress, he touched a fingertip to her lips, a silencing caress.

  “Don’t say it’s too soon—not when it’s been the path we’ve followed from the first day you looked up at me with those blue eyes.” Watching her reaction intensely, every nuance measured, loved, and, finally, assured, he took her left hand and slipped the ring into place. “Welcome home,” he said.

  James and the others waited in a room that radiated comfort and old-world charm, evocative of class as well as money, dark woods soaring to high ceilings, soft old Aubusson rugs covering the polished floor, and deep chairs as plush as a king’s robes. The snow filtered silver light through tall, arched windows.

  Their conversation halted as a heavy door swung open with a slow, melodic purr of fine wood on well-oiled hinges. Artemas entered the room with Lily beside him. James watched the way they moved, close without touching, in sync, intimacy and strength wrapping them in an invisible bond. Grief stabbed him. He and Alise had been that way once.

  Lily went to Elizabeth, squeezed her outstretched hand, then to Michael, and Tamberlaine.

  Tamberlaine held out his hands to her. “I only pray you can forgive one well-intentioned breach of confidence.”

  Arte mas watched, close by. Lily took Tamberlaine’s dark hands and gave him a pensive but affectionate look. His anxious expression relaxed a little. “I’ve waited years to make up to you for the part I played in hurting your relationship with Artemas,” he said. “Have I done it?”

  Her throat tight, Lily nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I see the concern in your eyes. Please trust me on this as well.”

  “I’m trying very hard to hope for the best.”

  He added softly, “I also see the remarkable strength and love you share with Artemas.”

  Cass rose from the couch, faced Lily with a curious, almost pleasant expression in her eyes, and said, “I suppose Artemas explained what’s happened between Dr. Sikes and me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You told John Lee everything you knew about me, after that first, disastrous encounter we had. You gave him a lot of ammunition.”

  “Looks like he hit the target.”

  Cass’s eyes flickered with approval. Her pleasure over John Lee and their baby was impossible to contain. For the first time in her life there were no sharp edges.

  Lily turned toward James. He returned her scrutiny without a hint of warmth. She stepped closer to him. A muscle worked in her throat. “I want you to know something,” she told him. “Before anything else is said today.” She paused, wincing a little, then continued, “My husband was a good person, with good motives, but he could have prevented what happened at the Colebrook Building, and he didn’t. I’ll never ask you to forgive him.”

  “Lily, don’t,” Artemas said, coming to her. He took her arm and gave her a troubled look. “Not this way.”

  James felt as if a fist had slammed into his stomach. “Why the confession?” he asked. Regardless of all Tamberlaine had told them about her and Artemas, he’d gone too far to retreat now. “Second thoughts?” he said, his voice tight. “Or has it merely become convenient to demonstrate a change of heart?”

  Her sharp inhalation cut through the silence. Artemas pushed between them. “You’ve walked a very thin line with me for a long time,” he said to James, his voice low and brutally controlled. “I’ve pampered you bec
ause of your leg. That’s not pity,” he added, as James tensed. “I made allowances for your bitterness, and I tried to understand it.”

  “Don’t patronize me,” James answered through clenched teeth. “I despise it.”

  “Then stop acting as if your injury excuses every goddamned cruel word you say to the rest of us.”

  James went still as a statue, unyielding, his stony gaze shifting to Lily’s resigned one. He felt the truth in his brother’s assessment—it burned. A lifetime of rigid, defensive pride refused to let him say so. His silence was the only sign of truce. A veneer of disgust as hard as diamonds gleamed in Artemas’s eyes. Artemas turned from him abruptly.

  James’s gaze remained locked on him as Artemas touched a hand to Lily’s back, guiding her to a chair. As she sat down, she and he shared a brief, private glance as loving as it was tormented. Any doubts James had about the nature of their relationship evaporated. What Tamberlaine had said was true. They had loved each other since childhood.

  “Begin, please,” Artemas said to Tamberlaine.

  Tamberlaine went to a writing desk between the room’s windows and unlocked its shallow drawer. There were looks of bewilderment among the family as he removed a small, sleek answering machine and plugged its cord into a wall outlet.

  Lily clutched the arms of her chair. Her nerves were brittle. Artemas positioned himself beside her. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

  Tamberlaine faced James and the others. Then, his magisterial voice flowing with a measured cadence, he told them how she’d come to him with the tape, and whose conversations it had revealed.

  “What kind of conversations?” Elizabeth asked. Her stunned expression mirrored Michael’s and Cassandra’s. James’s eyes had become even more chilling and alert.

 

‹ Prev