Magnolia Sky

by Susan Crandall

  “I guess they were.” It was interesting; most girls thought of Scarlett O’Hara when they talked about the plantation, of parties and beautiful dresses. But Becca seemed to have a much more realistic grasp of what it took to survive and make this land work—she saw the beauty in the hardship and the struggle for success.

  He now realized, although he rarely thought about such things head-on, those thoughts were all lying in the back of his mind. Perhaps that’s why he came here when he needed to gather strength. Knowing that his trials were insignificant compared to those of the people who built this place.

  “How much farther to the house?” she asked eagerly.

  “You mean what’s left of the house. I’m afraid you’re going to be really disappointed. It’s not like those museums, or the houses down in Natchez and Vicksburg. It’s rotten and falling down and pretty soon there won’t be anything left but the rock foundation.”

  A pained look crossed her face. “We let so much slip away. Things we should honor.”

  “Yeah, well, that honor takes a ton of money in this case. I think the last time anyone lived here was before the Depression. Granny Lejeune said it was in bad shape even then.”

  That pain changed to a look of determination. “How far?”

  “We’re halfway there.”

  She pressed on the gas and the car moved slowly forward. He wanted to tell her the lane wasn’t that bad, she didn’t have to go so slow; but then he saw the way she was looking around as she drove and kept his mouth shut.

  “The slave quarters used to be over there.” Cole pointed into the overgrowth on the left. “There really isn’t anything left of them—but Granny remembers when she was a kid they used to come out here and look for beads and bottles and buttons and stuff buried in the dirt. Once she said they even found an old pistol somewhere near the main house.”

  Becca said in a breathy voice, “Oh, I want to see. I’d love to find something that hadn’t been touched by another human for a hundred years.”

  Man, she was really into this stuff. “We can walk back out here after we look at the house.”

  Then the lane curved and they circled around in front of the old house.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered.

  “I know, pretty sad, huh?”

  “It’s magnificent—wonderful.”

  He scoffed. “The porch has fallen off. There isn’t much left of the roof. I don’t think there’s an unbroken pane of glass in the place. There’s even trees and stuff growing in one wing. Can’t see anything wonderful myself.”

  Becca got out of the car. Cole followed her to the moss-covered stone steps that led to a pile of rotten and broken lumber that used to be the massive veranda.

  She said, “She’s like a really old woman who used to be beautiful. I’ll bet she still feels beautiful inside.”

  Cole looked at her. “You’re starting to scare me. I didn’t know you were crazy.”

  She laughed and gave him a sideways shove. “Hey, I just appreciate old stuff.”

  “I’ve got a pair of old gym socks from sixth grade; maybe you’d like to see them?” he teased.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Nah. But if you can find some of your great-grandfather’s gym socks . . .”

  He laughed. He’d been worried that he would be sorry he’d shared this place with her. But it felt totally right.

  “If we go around back, we can get inside.”

  “Inside! Really?”

  Geez, she was acting like most girls do when there’s a Dave Matthews concert coming. “Yeah, but it’s pretty dangerous, you have to stay right with me and step where I tell you.”

  “No problem. I’m very obedient on field trips.”

  Looking at her, he’d almost forgotten the impression he’d held of her for years—Miss Goody. “Yeah, I bet you are.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  She shoved her hands onto her hips. “Hey, I can be as wild and unpredictable as the next girl.”

  “Sure.” He started to walk around to the back.

  “Hey!”

  He heard her hurrying to catch up. Suddenly her hand was on his arm, spinning him around to face her. Before he knew what was happening, she grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to her. Her kiss was so startling, he just stood there with his hands at his sides and his eyes wide open.

  “How’s that for unpredictable?” she asked with a satisfied look on her face.

  “Th-that was really good.” It was great, in fact. She left his lips buzzing, wanting more. He reached for her waist and she stepped out of his reach.

  “Uh-uh. That would be too predictable.”

  Cole just stood there and watched her walk around the corner of the house, noticing the way her jeans were just tight enough and low enough to be sexy. His palms burned to get hold of her. He wasn’t sure what to do; he’d never had a girl walk away from a kiss before.

  “You coming?” she called.

  Cole took a deep breath and followed the most confusing—and amazing—girl he’d ever met.

  It took Luke all of an hour and a half, by asking a few of the right questions, to narrow down the possibility of Roy’s camping ground to being someplace just south of town. Opal, Olivia’s distant cousin who worked the register at the Pure station, cheerfully told him that not only had she sold gas to Roy, she’d seen him camped out near her place just yesterday.

  After getting directions from Opal, it took Luke another forty-five minutes to find Roy’s truck-camper, parked near a wide creek that led to the river. He parked the Taurus blocking the muddy lane that led to the campsite, just in case Roy was as ready to speed out of here as he had been the day he’d left Magnolia Mile.

  Getting out of the car, Luke looked around. The remains of a fire still smoldered beside the truck. An old aluminum folding lawn chair with frayed webbing sat next to the smoking ash. In front of that chair sat the muddy mate to the shoe Rufus had brought home last night. A dozen or so empty beer cans were scattered on the ground.

  Luke moved slowly and silently forward, alert to any sound, any movement. When he reached the truck, he eased close enough to look inside the covered bed. He saw an empty sleeping bag, a pillow and a tattered black-bound Bible. No Roy.

  Just as he turned around, a barefooted Roy emerged from the woods, rifle in hand, dead squirrel held by the tail. The instant Roy saw Luke, he dropped both the rifle and his dinner and ran back into the woods.

  Luke sprinted after him, gaining ground easily. Roy was big, but not fast.

  “Stop!” Luke shouted when he was within grabbing distance of the man.

  Roy ran faster.

  “Shit!” Luke threw himself forward, tackling the big man. They both hit the ground with a grunt.

  Roy immediately tried to kick his way out of the hold Luke had on him. Luke’s trained finesse quickly outdid Roy’s brutish attempt to free himself. In an instant, Roy was face down in the dirt with all of Luke’s weight on him and one arm wrenched painfully behind his back.

  “Hold still!” Luke gave the arm a little more pressure.

  Roy cried out, but stopped struggling.

  “I thought I told you to stay away from Analise and Magnolia Mile.”

  Roy started to cry, like the bully in the schoolyard when the tables have finally turned. Between sobs, he said, “I d-did.”

  “Liar!” Luke flipped the man onto his back and stood over him with one foot on Roy’s throat. “Don’t lie to me!” Reaching down, he pulled Roy’s pant leg up to reveal a very nasty-looking dog bite. “You’re lucky Rufus only took your shoe. Could easily have taken a chunk of muscle, too.”

  Roy’s mouth was drawn down into a huge clownlike frown; he blew bubbles between his lips as he cried. “Don’t hurt me.”

  Luke kept his foot were it was. “Why didn’t you leave?”

  “I did.”

  Luke increased the pressure on Roy’s throat. “I said not to lie to me!” />
  “I—I ain’t. I went aw-way . . . like you s-said. . . .”

  Easing the pressure on Roy’s neck, Luke said, “Don’t make me chase you down again. I get real pissed when I gotta chase a guy twice.”

  Roy gave two quick, jerky nods of his head. “’Kay.” He remained motionless on the ground when Luke took his foot away.

  “Why’d you come back? You had enough money to get far from here.”

  Roy’s sobs were lessening. “H-had to.”

  “What in the hell do you mean? There’s no reason for you to be in Grover.”

  “I had to g-get sumthin.”

  Luke grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him. “I’ve got a notion to make you go and lick that paint off Ana’s windshield.”

  “W-what paint?”

  “Last night.” Luke gave him another shake. “We know you painted on Ana’s car—just like we know you were out at Magnolia Mile.”

  Roy’s face crumpled, as if he were going to start crying in earnest again. “I wuz at the nursery—never saw Miz Abbott’s car, though.”

  Luke leaned closer and threatened a punch.

  “I sw-swear! Swear on my momma’s grave!” Roy closed his eyes, waiting for the blow, but didn’t raise a hand to defend himself.

  The fear in the man’s eyes told Luke Roy was telling the truth. Luke let go and stepped back. He stood over Roy and said, “Why do you keep following Analise?”

  Roy vigorously shook his head as he remained prone on the ground. “No! I don’t wanna see Miz Abbott—not ever! No!”

  Luke just stood there staring at him.

  Roy reached for the leather string around his neck. He pulled out a crudely carved wooden cross from under his shirt and rubbed it between his fingers. “The devil,” he whispered. His eyes widened and he said in a childlike and confidential tone, “She makes me need to pray.”

  Luke rubbed his forehead. There were pieces of this puzzle that just were not fitting. He blew out a breath and asked, “Why were you at the nursery last night?”

  Roy kept rubbing the cross. “My Bible.”

  “What about your Bible?”

  “That day . . . the day I had to—to leave . . . I hid under one of them tables in the greenhouse, a-way at the back, behind some pots. I wuz needin’ to pray.”

  “And?”

  “I forgot my Bible there when I had to . . . leave.”

  “So you waited all this time to come back and get it?”

  Roy’s chin started to quiver. “I’s scairt—you said not to come back . . . but I had to get it.”

  “Why didn’t you just buy a new Bible? I gave you plenty of money.”

  With a quick, jerky shake of the head, Roy said, “Not the same. Need Momma’s Bible.”

  “Did you get it?”

  He nodded. “Then that dog chased me.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  “Thunder. Don’t like thunder. Afraid to drive.”

  Luke looked at the sky. The clouds were thickening again. “It’s not storming now. But you’d better get going because it looks like another one’s blowing in.”

  “Need to eat. Then I wuz going.”

  “You’d better not come back here—ever. Understand me?”

  Roy scooted to a sitting position and nodded. “I won’t. Got Momma’s Bible. No need to come back.”

  “Let me take a look at that bite.” Luke knelt down beside him. Roy pulled away when Luke reached for his leg. “I just want to make sure you don’t need a doctor.”

  Roy sat still while Luke examined the wound. Roy said, “No doctor. Momma was fine till she saw a doctor.”

  The puncture wounds were deep, but it didn’t appear that the muscle was torn. “Keep this clean. Wash it with soap every day. If you get a fever, you should see a doctor.”

  “No doctor.”

  “Suit yourself.” Luke started to walk away. “Cook your meal, then clear out of here. I’ll be back later to make sure you’ve gone.”

  Roy nodded. “I’s good as gone now.”

  As Luke got back in the car and started the engine, he began a mental list of who might possibly have tagged Ana’s car last night. The paint had been limited to the glass—where it would do the least damage. Hardly the act of someone truly bent on vengeance.

  Someone else was stalking Analise—and Luke wasn’t leaving until he discovered who it was.

  Chapter 17

  Before Analise headed upstairs to her metal studio, she made sure Rufus was downstairs in the shop. It was a compromise with Olivia, who still insisted she shouldn’t be alone. Analise guessed that being thirty yards from the house where Olivia was working on the books was considered alone. So she settled Rufus in his favorite corner with a large rawhide bone, which she knew he would rather bury than expend the energy to chew.

  “You did good last night, fella. That bastard comes in here today, you have my permission to take more than a shoe.”

  Rufus blew out a long breath that rattled his flews.

  “I’ll just be upstairs.” She started for the stairway. “Keep the intruders away.”

  Rufus closed his eyes.

  “I know you’re just toying with me. You’re a killer at heart.”

  Once upstairs, she turned on the lights and started her CD player. Then she took some time reacquainting herself with the fountain. It was difficult for her to keep a creative flow going when she had several days in a row without being able to work on it. She walked around the half-assembled pieces and rough-cut metal, studied the drawing again, making sure the overall appearance was still pleasing to her. Often, time away from a project really changed her perspective and she had to alter her original plan. But, as she looked at the sketch, she felt assured this design was right. It would fit well with the site work they’d done so far.

  She put on her face shield and welding gloves, then lit her torch with a lighthearted joy she only found when working on her metal creations. The music wrapped around her and her mind fell into a single focus. Her first task was to melt and roll the edges of the pieces she’d cut for leaves, so there wouldn’t be any dangerously sharp corners.

  About an hour later, she stretched her back and looked out the window. The clouds were getting darker, threatening more rain. Being in her studio while it was raining was nearly as cozy and comforting as being tucked in bed. She loved working up there when a storm rattled the windows.

  A sense of perfect peace came over her as she resumed working. It was a peace she rarely found these days. One that told her she was in the right place, doing the right thing with her life.

  She was bent over her workbench when she felt, more than heard, someone standing behind her. Her heart kicked into high gear.

  She kept the torch burning and held it out like a weapon as she spun around.

  “Oh!” Her knees weakened and she took off the face shield. “Jesus, Luke, you scared the shit out of me.”

  Rufus sat right behind Luke, his tail beating happily on the floor. She shook one gloved hand at him. “Shame on you! You were supposed to be on guard duty!”

  Rufus’s tongue lolled and he put his head under Luke’s hand.

  Luke obliged the dog by scratching behind one of Rufus’s ears. “Hey, don’t pick on Rufus. He knows when to get down to business. I’m the good guy.” Then he looked contrite. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but you didn’t hear me and you were so absorbed in what you were doing. You looked so . . . content.” He glanced back down the stairs as if checking to be certain they were alone. “Besides, I find it fascinating to watch you work.”

  She shut off the torch. “Fascinating, huh?”

  He stepped closer. “Yeah. You take this pile of copper and change it, give it life.”

  She laughed. “That’s sort of the way I’ve always looked at it, too.” Taking off her welder’s gloves, she crossed the room. “You’re just in time. I need someone to hold this in place while I weld it.” She picked up a giant dragonfly that she’d
finished earlier. “It goes up there.” She pointed to the top of a long pole with metal “leaves” on it.

  “Okay.” Luke looked at the pieces she had sitting in the middle of her work space. “Do you have a drawing of what it’ll look like when it’s done?”

  “Over there.” She raised a hand toward the far wall. Then she pretended to continue working, waiting for his reaction. She didn’t know why, but it suddenly seemed important to her that he like it—no, not like it . . . respect it.

  Luke walked over and studied it closely. “Did you sketch this?”

  “Yes. I read a few children’s books, then tried to adapt and incorporate the ideas and types of characters from them.”

  He turned back around and looked at her. “This is really, really good.”

  She grinned, unable to hide her pride. “Thanks.”

  Looking back at the drawing, he ran a finger along it. “This is the drain we finished Friday . . . all of that dirt-moving you’ve been doing finally makes sense.”

  Chuckling she asked, “Did you think I didn’t have a plan? That I was just moving stuff around with no purpose?”

  “No . . . it’s just I couldn’t see. Now I do. It’s going to be great.”

  “Thanks.” She crossed her arms over her chest. After a moment she asked, “So, did you find him?”

  “Him?” He looked at her with raised brows.

  “Stop looking so innocent. Olivia told me.”

  He tightened his lips and shook his head. “I found him.”

  Her eyes widened and she asked with concern, “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  “I thought the point was to get him to go away.”

  “Yes, but Roy’s just a big kid. You’re . . . you’re a professional.”

  “You make it sound like I’m a hit man. You really think I’d . . .” He shook his head and let out a breath. Shoving his hands on his hips, he said, “No, I didn’t hurt him. I just talked to him.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s leaving. He said he came back here last night and got his Bible from the greenhouse.”

  “What about my car?”

  Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Says he didn’t do it. But that doesn’t matter now. He’s outta here.”