Downstairs, Luke’s deep voice mingled with Olivia’s lighter speaking tones.
What were those two doing up?
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and walked softly to the top of the stairs. The voices came from the living room. The only light was of the night-light that Olivia always left burning in the window there, “A welcoming guide for those spirits trying to find their way home,” she’d explained to Analise. Ana supposed it had come about because Calvin’s father’s body never found its final resting place here at home.
Olivia said softly, but with laughter in her voice, “That’s quite a story.”
“You know Calvin, so you can believe it’s true.” Luke’s tone matched Olivia’s.
“Oh, I believe it.”
The rain tapped gently on the roof. Analise could hear one of them shift sitting positions—probably Luke; she’d noticed he always seemed to have trouble sitting still in comfortable furniture.
Olivia sighed.
Analise was just about to head down the stairs when Olivia said, more solemnly, “I have something I want to discuss with you—without all of the other ears listening in this house.”
Analise froze. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but couldn’t resist hearing what Olivia had to say to Luke in private. Did she suspect that they’d slept together? Her throat went dry. Had she risked everything she had here just so she could feel loved one more time?
Luke gave a most respectful, “All right, ma’am.”
“You already know what Calvin meant to me and how difficult his death has been; his father and I had such a short time together.”
“I understand he never saw Calvin.” The warmth and compassion in Luke’s voice made goosebumps rise on Analise’s arms. How could someone who’d lived such a hard-edged life, who appeared to be sculpted of stone, have such a gentle side? It gave her an ache in the center of her chest.
“That’s right. For a long time, it was just Calvin and me.” Olivia paused. “And in all of those years, I never felt alone, never felt the lack of a husband—a lover.”
Luke remained silent.
Analise’s insides took flight. Oh, my God, she knows.
Olivia let that sink in for a moment, the way she always did when she was about to make an important point. Then she said, “Analise is more than an in-law. She’s my daughter. Cole depends upon her as his family.”
Softly, so softly that Analise could hardly hear, Luke said, “I can see that.”
Analise knew she should be an adult and go down there. She should face Olivia and admit what she’d done, apologize for being such a disloyal daughter. Not let Luke take all of the blame. But she couldn’t make her feet move. She hid on the stairs like a naughty child.
Rufus walked into the hallway, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. He looked expectantly up toward Analise. When she didn’t move down the stairs, he began to whine quietly.
It wasn’t much of a sound, but it was enough to catch Luke’s vigilant attention. “Just a minute,” he said, as Analise heard him get up and start walking toward the hall.
She sucked in her breath and held it.
Olivia said, “What?”
“Not sure. What is it, boy?” Luke asked softly.
Analise pulled herself quickly around the corner and pressed herself against the wall at the top of the stairs.
Rufus whined louder.
“Upstairs?” Then Luke’s voice sounded more distant, as if he’d turned away when he said, “Sit tight, Liv. I’m just going to make sure everything’s all right.”
When Analise heard Olivia get up and hurry across the living room, she took the opportunity of additional noise to skitter back to her own room and slip into bed. By the time she heard Luke’s cautious footsteps at her door, she’d managed to slow her breathing to normal. God, she was worse than a naughty child!
Her door opened. She heard Liv whisper loudly from downstairs, “Everything all right?”
After a moment, the door closed again and Luke’s steps faded away. She heard him go back down the stairs. After a few minutes, there was noise in the kitchen—the familiar noise of Liv making late-night cocoa.
Then the soft hum of conversation filtered up from the kitchen. They were probably resuming their conversation where they had left off.
I should get up and go down there. She said it over and over to herself, and yet couldn’t make herself do it.
Analise was still awake at dawn. She must have at least dozed at some point, because she’d lost track of when the conversation in the kitchen stopped. She put off going downstairs for another hour. Everything was going to be different today and she didn’t want to face it. Analise realized then that she’d been harboring the ridiculous hope that, as long as Olivia didn’t know that she’d betrayed her by sleeping with Luke under her roof and Luke remained here, somehow things would work out in the long run; her life at Magnolia Mile would somehow go on and Luke would be incorporated into it permanently.
It was clear that was not going to happen—ever. It seemed unfair that to protect one person she loved, she had to sacrifice another. Her breath caught as that thought stopped her cold. Love? Did she love Luke?
What difference did it make? She pushed the very thought away. She’d loved Calvin. Trusting that feeling hadn’t worked out as she’d planned—and that situation wasn’t nearly as complicated as this. Romantic love was overrated, exaggerated by movies and novels. Romantic love didn’t last. Family did.
She glanced at her clock. If she waited just a bit longer, Olivia would leave for church. Analise had never taken up the habit of churchgoing in Grover. Olivia had never pressed her about it. Organized religion just didn’t do much for Analise. She didn’t feel any closer to God after she’d spent the morning in church. She felt close to God when she was working in the dirt, when she was sitting by the Tallahatchie River, when she felt the warm sun on her skin. For her, faith was a deeply personal and private thing.
During her days in Jackson, she’d seen too many people use their Christianity as a tool, an instrument to get what they wanted, a wall to hide behind, not a belief. Her grandmother had insisted every Sunday that they attend both Sunday school and the service—it was the right thing to do. All “good families” went to church.
Now she guessed she had finally become the bad person Grandmother kept threatening she’d become, a person who put her own desire first and hurt those around her.
She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Her head ached, her eyes were dry and bloodshot. She brushed her teeth and took three aspirin. Then she took the hottest shower she could stand. By the time she went downstairs, Olivia should have been well on her way to church.
But she wasn’t. She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee, still in her robe.
“Good morning, Ana. Pour yourself some coffee and sit down here for a bit. We have some things to discuss.”
That lead ball that had been sitting in Ana’s stomach doubled in size and weight. She guessed it was better to get it over with. She’d apologize, beg forgiveness, tell Olivia that this family meant everything to her and hope for the best.
She looked at the empty coffee cup in front of Luke’s place at the table. “Where’s Luke?”
Olivia lifted a hand toward the door. “Gone.”
Chapter 16
“For heaven’s sake, Ana, breathe!” Olivia got to her feet.
Analise fought the lightheadedness that made her sway drunkenly. Luke was gone—as he was always bound to be. But . . . she wasn’t ready. Not yet, not like this.
Olivia patted Ana’s cheek. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I . . .” She struggled to gather enough breath to speak. “I didn’t get to say good-bye. I know you’re upset, Liv, and I’m sorry, but—”
“Upset? What are you talking about?” She guided Ana to a chair. “Here, sit down before you fall flat.”
Analise’s trembling knees bent and she sat down hard.
>
Olivia handed her a glass of water. “Drink.”
As she took a sip, the water threatened to make an about face at the lump in her throat.
“I had no idea you needed to tell the boy good-bye every time he walked out the door.”
“But”—Ana’s voice trembled—“this time he won’t be coming back.”
“Whyever not?”
Analise slowly looked at Olivia. “You said he’s gone.”
“He is. He went to look for Roy. Wants to get to the bottom of all this.” She pointed to the muddy shoe that still sat on the doormat.
“Roy?” Analise blinked, trying to adapt to the change.
Olivia poured Analise a cup of coffee and set it in front of her. “I think you need some caffeine to wake yourself up.” She splashed a large amount of cream in the cup and stirred it. “There.” A dawning light then shone in Olivia’s face. “Oh, dear! You thought he’d left us for good?”
Analise needed to backpedal. She took a long sip of the coffee. How was she going to explain this overreaction? “Well, I . . .” She picked up the spoon and stirred her coffee again, needlessly. “I assumed . . . I was worried about the contract. . . . We’re already behind, and without a grown man to help. . . .”
Olivia looked at Analise through narrowed eyes, her mouth drawn up into a suspicious pucker. “I see.”
Sitting back down, Olivia said, “I think we need to make some changes around here—at least until things are back to normal. Luke . . .”
Analise concentrated on the little bubbles in her coffee cup. Didn’t Granny Lejeune have a saying about bubbles in your coffee? Analise tried to recall, just so she didn’t have to hear Liv tell her how disappointed she was in her behavior, how Analise had betrayed Calvin’s memory, how Olivia wanted her to behave herself around Luke from here on out.
“. . . It was Luke’s idea and I’m sure you’ll agree.”
Oops! If she was going to have to agree, maybe she should have listened. “Of course.” Now she didn’t know exactly what she was agreeing to.
“All right, then. One of us will be with you at all times.”
Didn’t Liv trust her to stay away from Luke on her own? She needed someone to babysit her?
Olivia went on, “Of course, Luke might just take care of this today and it won’t be necessary.”
Analise’s stomach started to roll. “No, of course not.”
“Why on earth do you sound so disappointed?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how we’re going to get the job finished.”
Olivia cocked her head and threw a hand in the air. “What does you not being alone have anything to do with getting the job done? Luke’s always with you at the park anyway.”
It took a second for Analise to realize she was following the wrong track in this conversation. What were they talking about? Her guilty conscience jumped to a conclusion that nearly had her divulging her secret.
Analise cleared her throat and fought the urge to ask just what Luke and Olivia had talked about so long into the night. Instead she asked what she hoped sounded like a logical question: “How’s Luke going to find Roy?”
Olivia picked up her coffee cup. “I have no idea. He seemed confident when he left here, though.”
Cole came thudding down the stairs. “Mom!”
“You don’t have to yell. I’m right here.”
He stepped into the kitchen looking better than Analise had seen him in months. Pausing in the doorway with his hand on the jamb, he said, “A friend is picking me up in about five minutes. We’re going to go run around for a while.” He started to duck away when Liv stopped him.
“Wait just a minute!”
He slowly turned back around.
“Who is this friend and where, exactly, are you run- ning to?”
“God, Mom, I’m not a baby.”
“No, but you have to admit, you haven’t been behaving in the most mature manner of late.” She lowered her chin and looked at him from under raised brows.
He shifted his weight and huffed. “It’s a girl from school. I promised to show her the plantation.”
Analise said, “The girl from Rib Fest?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged and ran his hand along the woodwork. “It’s no big deal. She just likes history and stuff, so I said I’d show her.”
“When will you be back?” Olivia asked.
His frustration showed again. “I don’t know.”
“For lunch?”
He looked away. “She’s packing a picnic—sorta to thank me for taking her to see the place. You know girls.”
“Oh, yes,” Olivia said slyly. “I know girls.” Then she added, “Be back by suppertime.”
Immediately, he headed for the front door. “Okay.”
Once they heard the front door close behind him, Olivia said wistfully, “If only grown-up hearts could heal so quickly.”
Analise said, “What do you mean?”
“Last week he was ready to throw himself off a bridge because Darcy dumped him; this week he’s going on a picnic with that cute little redhead.”
“Liv! It’s not a date, you heard him.”
“Oh, I heard him—and I saw the look in his eye. There’s no mistaking that look in someone’s eye—it can’t be hidden. I can pick it out a mile away.”
Analise didn’t respond. She also didn’t look Liv in the eye, for fear of what Olivia might see there.
Riding toward the old plantation in Becca’s faded old Volvo, Cole had mixed emotions. For years this had been his secret hideaway, the place where he could go and be certain that no one would interrupt his thoughts, a place apart from the rest of his life. He’d never shared it with anyone, not even Darcy.
But then again, Darcy had never asked.
He glanced at Becca. She’d been quiet since she’d picked him up. He didn’t know her well enough to know if her silence was normal or not. The hush in the car was getting to him, so he tried to turn on the radio. The knob clicked, but the speakers didn’t produce anything, not even static.
“Sorry. Doesn’t work,” she said.
“How can you stand to drive around without music?”
Keeping her eyes on the road, she lifted a shoulder. “No big deal. Gives me time to think. Dad says radios are a distraction new drivers don’t need.”
“Hum.”
“He’s real careful about us kids driving—guess it comes from seeing so many smashed-up cars that come into the junkyard. We all have to drive this car for a year after we get our license.”
“Oh.” Cole realized his car was probably sitting in Mr. Reynolds’s junkyard right now. Calvin had driven it for thirteen years and never gotten a scratch on it. Cole had had it for not quite six months and totaled it. His stomach twisted as he thought of what it might look like—he hadn’t gotten the courage to go and see it yet.
“Volvo’s one of the safest cars on the road,” Becca said, apparently unaware of the disturbing image she’d just brought to Cole’s mind.
He tried to think of Becca’s car, not his. He guessed the safe thing made sense, but he wondered why it had to be an ancient, old-lady Volvo.
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” Cole asked, trying to replace the thought of the mangled Jeep with anything else. He knew she had a brother who was a freshman and an older sister who graduated last year.
“Five. Matt drove the car first, he’s a sophomore at Mississippi State; then my sister Natalie, she’s going to nursing school in Memphis; then me; Ron is a freshman; Danny is in eighth grade; and Betsy is in kindergarten.”
“Kindergarten?”
He noticed her stiffen. “Yeah, kindergarten. It happens.”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said. “There are fourteen years between me and my brother—with no other kids. It’s just—gosh, will your dad make her drive this Volvo?”
Immediately she relaxed and chuckled. “Probably. He said a first car should be a tank—an inexpensive tank.”
She braked and leaned slightly forward over the steering wheel, looking for the drive. Her hair fell over her shoulder like it was silk. Becca had incredible hair. Did it feel as soft as it looked? Cole kept his gaze on her, as she drove slowly and concentrated on what was on the outside of the car.
“Oh, look!” she said, stopping and pointing off to the left. “One of the old magnolias. It must be over a hundred and fifty years old.” She looked at it for a long time, so long that Cole started to wonder what was so fascinating about it.
He’d never paid much attention to the magnolias. They were just trees. He knew they had been there since the plantation house was built, which made her right, they were over a hundred and fifty years old. Many of them had died, and those that were left had been swallowed up in the overgrowth. He hardly saw them anymore.
She whispered, “Wow.” Then, looking at him with a light in her eye, she said, “Doesn’t it just give you goosebumps? Think of all the things that tree has seen. And the whole mile was lined with them on both sides. It must have been gorgeous.”
Not only had Cole not paid attention to the trees, he’d never even considered what they’d “seen.”
“Think about it,” she said. “When this plantation was in its prime, lots of the traffic still came by river.” She got a funny far-off look in her eye. “The land was worked by hand; every inch taken from the forest was hard-won. They had to fight downpours, tornadoes, droughts, floods and crop-destroying insects.
“If a person wanted to talk to someone farther than the next plantation, they had to write a letter that took forever to get there.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I can almost hear the carriages and wagons rolling down this drive—the soft clop of the horses on the dirt.”
Then she turned in her seat and looked at him. “And the people in those carriages were related to you. They survived cholera and yellow fever and influenza and broken bones.” She started to get really excited. “They took this wild land and tamed it, made it produce. They survived! Can you imagine how incredibly hard just surviving had to be? Your ancestors were tough.”
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