Whispers (Argent Springs)

by Cindy Stark

  She and Annabelle took turns with the bowl of spaghetti and fragrant marinara sauce. Erin passed the basket filled with rolls—far too many for only two people, and Annabelle forked broccoli on her plate before handing the steaming dish to Erin.

  Erin twirled her fork in the mound of noodles, trying to get a decent amount of pasta without taking too much.

  “Rick’s sorry he couldn’t stay for dinner. He said to give you his apologies.”

  She set her fork on her plate, the pasta still tangled in the tines. “Did he really say that, or are you making apologies for him?”

  A blush fell over her cheeks, and her dear aunt wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Why on earth would you ask such a thing?”

  “Because I know he didn’t. He made it pretty clear out there that he doesn’t care for my company.”

  Annabelle put a hand to her throat, looking more than a little stressed, and Erin immediately regretted her reply.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “What did he say to you?” Her eyes appeared larger than normal behind her glasses.

  “He was angry with me for making you worry.” She took her aunt’s hand and looked into her eyes. “And for that, I’m truly sorry. I was focused on shooting photos and didn’t realize the time. It was a selfish thing to do.”

  “Oh, love. Don’t worry about me. I can’t help it if I care about you, and I learned a long time ago, if you love someone, you’ll spend a certain amount of time worrying about them, too. It goes hand in hand.”

  “Maybe so, but I acted irresponsibly taking off like that.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “That’s exactly what I’m trying not to teach you. If you spend your whole life walking on the sidewalk and never step out of bounds, the things you’ll see and learn about will be very limited. Yes, life can be a dangerous, scary place, but it’s also full of beauty and wonder. You need to explore. You need to live it.”

  Erin gave her a gentle smile. She was learning to do just that, but she’d also learned to not worry the ones she loved. “Fine.”

  “Promise me.” A fierceness landed in her gaze. “Promise me you’ll get out there and muck it up. Get dirty, wash off, and then get dirty again. It’s the only way to live.”

  Her aunt’s analogies coaxed a laugh from her. “Okay, fine. I promise.”

  “Good girl.” She patted her hand and picked up her fork. “Now, I just need to get Rick to see reason.”

  She sighed, wishing they could get beyond the subject of Rick.

  “He’s not so bad.”

  Erin shrugged. She’d prefer it if they didn’t discuss him at all.

  “He’s had a hard lot in life. His daddy died in the mines when he was a young man, and his momma drank away her days, leaving him to raise his little brother. One night, his momma was coming home and drove off a cliff, sending her and his brother to heaven with his daddy. Some say Rick found a suicide note. Others say it was an accident.”

  Erin was part way through swallowing a bite of spaghetti when it turned to a thick lump in her throat. She lifted her wine glass, letting the liquid ease the way. She cleared her throat, not wanting to hear Rick’s story. Not wanting to find a reason to excuse his rotten behavior. “That’s an awful way to grow up.”

  “It is. As much as your parents suck, at least they were on the scene. At least you had a home.”

  “How old was Rick when his mother died?”

  “Sixteen. He’s been on his own for a long time. Back then, he had several jobs. He worked for the owner of the local garage, learning what he could about fixing cars. In the winters, he worked on the ski slopes, too, and in the summers he did odd jobs like digging graves in the cemetery and cleaning stalls down at Harold’s barn. Anything he could do to make extra money. Life’s been hard on him, but he’s strong. I admire the man more than I can say. I just wish I could see him happy. I wish he’d give up on that worthless woman and move on.”

  Erin choked down another bite. “Everyone has the right to be happy.” And here she’d invaded his home, made the woman that he probably looked up to as a mother worry which may have put her health at risk. No wonder he was so cantankerous with her. That first day when she’d arrived and thought he was rude was probably him worrying about Aunt Annabelle.

  That was a stringy, tough bit of knowledge to swallow. “I think I owe him an apology.”

  “Whatever for, love?”

  “For making his life more difficult, as if he hadn’t already had enough hard knocks.”

  “Ah honey, he’s a tough man. A little girl like you won’t break him.”

  True. He’d actually have to care for her to have any serious effect on him. The most she could do would be to irritate him.

  She should be glad that was the extent of her capability. She didn’t want any more responsibility for another person than that. Except for her Aunt Annabelle.

  She was worth caring about.

  “I’m sorry if I ran him off from dinner. I’ll apologize to him in the morning.”

  Annabelle smiled. “It’s all right, love. I’m sure he’s completely forgotten about it by now.”

  She was pretty sure of that as well.

  * * *

  Rick hadn’t returned home by the time Annabelle had called it a night. Erin stayed in the atrium reading for a while, but a restlessness had infiltrated her spirit and wouldn’t be ignored. In the end, she decided a walk in the brisk evening air might be exactly what she needed to calm her so she’d be able to sleep later.

  With her walking shoes and a warm coat, she stepped out of the house and headed toward Main Street. The streets were well-lit, and there were several other people out and about, too.

  She hadn’t walked far when she came upon Krog’s and paused in front of the doorway. She wasn’t comfortable going into social places alone and normally would have by-passed the tavern, but something urged her to step out of her shell and go inside. Argent Springs had a charm that spoke to her soul, and she wanted to absorb as much of it as possible before she went home.

  A warm blast of air and music from a live band greeted her. Most of the tables were full of guests laughing and drinking, and it had an overall welcoming feeling. She made her way between the tables, searching for an out-of-the-way place to sit. The second she caught sight of Rick sitting with a group of guys, she headed in the opposite direction, hoping to avoid him. Unfortunately, it appeared the only space available on the other side of the tavern was one empty stool at the bar.

  She slid onto the seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable with so little space between her and the white-bearded man next to her.

  “What can I get you?” asked a stout woman with graying hair and one of her bottom front teeth missing.

  “Umm…a beer?”

  “We’re a micro-brewery with twelve kinds of beer.” Her expression and tone oozed with impatience.

  She wasn’t much of a drinker, and the idea of so many options intimidated her. “Do you have a menu?”

  The woman raised her brows, giving her a visual “are you kidding me”?

  She’d obviously made a poor choice in choosing this place to visit on her own. “Just something light then. I don’t enjoy dark beer.”

  “Give her a golden ale, Penny,” said the older man sitting next to her. Erin glanced at him before nodding in agreement.

  Penny rolled her eyes at him, looking as though he’d stolen all of her fun.

  “Thanks for the save,” Erin said as he drained the last of his drink.

  “No problem. She can be a bit of a beast sometimes.” He tipped his head toward her before he slid from his stool. “Have a nice evening.”

  Erin frowned as her newfound friend deserted her before she had a chance to introduce herself.

  Penny returned, sloshing her beer as she set it before her. “Ten dollars.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “For a beer?” The most she’d ever paid had been six.

  The bartender nar
rowed her light blue eyes. “It’s a special brew.”

  Erin wasn’t sure what she’d done to make the woman not like her, but it was very apparent she didn’t. But Erin had ordered the drink, and she couldn’t very well argue the price at this point. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out the twenty she’d stuffed in there earlier in the day when she’d been out with Annabelle.

  Penny took it with a grin and headed to the cash register. When she returned, she laid a five dollar bill along with five ones on the bar in front of her. The woman obviously wanted a tip.

  She’d really like to tell the bartender to shove it up her ass, but she wanted to feel part of this town and not create any bad vibes. She took everything but two dollars and passed them back to Penny. “Thanks.”

  The woman snatched the bills and walked away, no doubt with a huge smile on her face.

  Erin took a sip. The mellow flavor was pretty good, but certainly not twelve-dollars good.

  A good ten minutes later, she’d finished most of her beer and had relaxed enough after her run-in with Penny to enjoy the band. They played an eclectic mix of music including some old country songs along with new pop favorites. She lifted her glass for another drink when someone bumped her shoulder causing her to nearly choke on her drink.

  “You’re in my seat,” said a rough female voice from behind.

  Erin glanced over her shoulder. A woman looking an awful lot like she could be Penny’s twin glared back at her.

  “Excuse me.”

  “You’re in my seat.” The woman was big enough she could probably carry an ox on her back.

  She thought about arguing with her, but at this point, it seemed best to move out of the ox’s way. “I beg your pardon,” she said with the snarkiest tone she could muster as she moved over one seat.

  The moment the woman sat down, Penny was back, hauling a frothy, dark beer with her. “Your usual, Gert.”

  Erin watched from the corner of her eye as Gert placed a five dollar bill on the counter. Penny grabbed it and was about to walk away when the rude injustice of it all combined with the higher-point alcohol coursing through her veins prodded Erin to speak up. “You just charged me double that.”

  Penny swiveled around, enjoyment beaming on her face. “Gert gets the local’s discount.” She walked away.

  And Erin was obviously not a local. She leaned forward on the bar, calling to Penny. “That’s terrible. If you charge tourists double, do you really think they’ll come back?”

  Penny turned and met her gaze, slowly making her way back to Erin. She stopped, standing close enough that she was only inches from Erin’s face. “I could care less if they do,” she whispered.

  Erin sat back on her seat, knowing the woman could probably take her out with one meaty fist. As she did, her elbow came in contact with something solid. Glass hit the bar, and Erin jerked around in time to see dark ale pour all over Gert’s lap.

  “Bitch.” The woman’s voice was vicious and scarier than Erin would like to admit. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Oh my god. No. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Penny. “Do you have a rag?”

  Penny stood at the ready and tossed a bar towel, hitting Erin in the chest. Erin took it and handed it to Gert.

  “You owe me a beer,” Gert said through gritted teeth.

  “Of course. I’m so sorry.” Here she’d been trying to get to know the town, and all she’d done was make enemies. She turned to Penny. “I’ll buy her another.”

  Penny stepped away for a few minutes before she came back with an identical glass of dark ale. “Ten dollars.”

  “What?” Erin couldn’t believe her ears. Heat flamed on her cheeks, and she wished she wasn’t slightly impaired by her drink so that she could deal with the situation with a clear head. “Her drink cost five dollars.”

  “I already explained that was the local’s price. It’s ten for you.”

  “But I’m buying it for her.”

  Penny shrugged, obviously enjoying pinning Erin to the wall.

  Erin pulled the remaining eight dollars from her pocket. “This is all I have left.”

  “Looks like you’re two dollars short.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  A dark look hardened Penny’s expression. “Not even a little.”

  “Then I’ll have to go back to my room and get more. I don’t have it with me, and I didn’t bring a credit card.” She’d really like to tell both of them to go to hell, but she didn’t dare.

  “You’ll have to leave your shoes, then. It’s the only guarantee I have that you’ll come back.”

  Gert nodded. “Company policy.”

  “You want me to walk home in the cold to get two dollars?”

  “It’ll teach you to not spend money you don’t have.”

  The enjoyment the two women received at her expense sickened her. Annabelle or someone should have warned her about this place. She leaned over to unlace her boots, embarrassing tears fighting for release, but she wouldn’t let them. This was a hard lesson learned, but she wasn’t about to let them see her cry.

  “Jesus, Penny. Do you always have to be such a bitch?” The sound of Rick’s voice brought Erin up sharply in her seat.

  Disappointment cooled the features on both of the women’s faces. “Just trying to have some fun, Rick.”

  “By making her walk home in the cold with no shoes? Yes, I saw the whole thing,” he said before either one of them could answer. “That’s what your dad used to do to the drunken miners who didn’t pay their tabs. It’s not what you do to a lady.”

  Rick faced her. As much as she’d hated him earlier, she was extremely grateful to see him now.

  “How much did she charge you?”

  “Ten dollars. I gave her two for a tip.”

  He shook his head in disgust as he faced the bartender. “It sounds like she’s paid for both drinks already and gave you a tip that you damn well didn’t deserve. Did you know she’s Annabelle’s niece? I hope you’re both ashamed of yourselves.”

  Erin thought she might actually have seen looks of contrition on their faces as Rick took her elbow and helped her from her seat. She hoped they did. It bordered on cruel how they’d treated her. No, she wasn’t a local, but people should never treat others that way.

  “Is it all right if I walk home with you?” Rick asked as they headed for the door.

  She nodded, her tears not sufficiently buried for her to give a vocal response.

  Chilly air was their constant companion as they made their way home. They’d almost reached Annabelle’s house before Rick spoke.

  “I’m sorry about that. Penny and Gert grew up with a bastard for a father. Normally, they’re okay, but every once in a while that mean streak they inherited shows up.”

  “It’s okay,” she said as they reached the porch. “As they put it, I’m not one of the locals. Obviously they don’t like strangers in their town.”

  “Pretty women is more like it.”

  She raised a brow in question.

  “If you weren’t so pretty, they wouldn’t have harassed you at all.” He opened the door for her, letting her precede him inside before he closed out the night. “Don’t judge the rest of us based on the actions of a few. Some aren’t happy that we have to be overrun with tourists in order to make a living, but most are grateful to have a source of income. Don’t let them make you feel unwelcome.”

  He took off his coat and hung it on a hook near the door. “Goodnight,” he said as he headed toward the stairs.

  She slowly undid her coat as he left. His words had soothed part of her soul. He’d called her pretty. But he’d also hinted her value came from contributing to the livelihood of his fellow citizens. She’d hoped for more, but she was happy his opinion hadn’t been worse.

  * * *

  The next morning, she and Annabelle ate alone again. Rick had headed into his garage early to start on a snowmobile engine rebuild he’d promised to have done for a customer t
his week according to her aunt. Erin felt bad for running him off again, but Annabelle assured her that Rick was rarely around for breakfast on weekday mornings.

  Erin hauled a set of sheets from the laundry room on the first floor to the bedroom where the Finchers had stayed. Annabelle was already there, dusting a beautiful antique chest of drawers. The lemon scent of polish combined with the soothing smell of lavender.

  “I love your perfume,” Erin said as she snapped open the bottom sheet, flinging it across the bed.

  Annabelle turned to her with a quizzical smile. “I’m not wearing any perfume.”

  “Then lotion or whatever you have on. It’s very nice.”

  The tiniest look of concern entered her aunt’s expression. “I haven’t put lotion on today.”

  “It smells like lavender.” Erin lifted the mattress, tucking the elastic edge of the sheet beneath it before letting it drop. “You’re not wearing anything with that scent?”

  “You smell lavender?”

  She gave her an encouraging smile as she nodded. “Yes. I really like it. I noticed it the first day I arrived.”

  Excitement burned behind Annabelle’s eyes. “Rosa used to wear lavender. They called her the Lavender Lady because she always wore purple and smelled like the plant.”

  A tingle coaxed bumps to the surface of her arms. “Really? You never wear it? It’s weird to keep smelling it then, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head and then a smile relaxed her face. “I know what it is. There’s a dried floral arrangement on the first floor with lavender in it. You must be smelling that.”

  “Must be.” Erin recalled seeing an arrangement just inside the front door, although she wasn’t sure the scent would reach this far. But, it was the only reasonable explanation.

  After Erin finished with the bed and Annabelle vacuumed the floor, her aunt patted the lovely rusted orange and brown quilt. “Sit with me a moment. I get all out of breath these days doing housework.”

  Erin sat next to her on the bed, remembering what Rick had told her about Annabelle’s health. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can finish up.”

  Her aunt’s face seemed awfully pale at the moment. “I’m fine, love. I just need to go at a slower pace. But it’s good for me to keep moving.”