The Middlefield Family Collection

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The Middlefield Family Collection Page 41

by Kathleen Fuller


  “Is she?”

  “Yes, but she’s on the phone.”

  Manuela nodded. “I will get started on lunch. Is there anything special you want, Mr. Thompson?”

  To go home. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  She turned, then stopped. “Mr. Thompson, I . . .” Manuela looked at her white leather shoes. “I . . .”

  “What is it?”

  The maid lifted her gaze. “I really don’t want to pry into Señora Easley’s business.”

  “I understand.” He stepped forward. “But if you have something to tell me, I promise I won’t let my grandmother know we talked. I’ll make sure you won’t lose your job.”

  “I’m not worried about that.” Manuela scratched the back of her hand. “I care about Señora Easley. She’s not the easiest woman I’ve worked for, but life has been difficult for her.”

  Sawyer doubted that. How hard could life be when you had enough money and power to do anything you wanted? To make people do your bidding? But she hadn’t been able to control his mother. “I’m glad she has someone looking out for her,” he said.

  “Sí. I know she won’t like this, but I think you should have them.”

  He frowned. “Have what?”

  “Wait here.”

  A few moments later, she returned holding a packet of letters wrapped in a rubber band. She handed them to him. “These are from your mother.”

  Sawyer took them. He pulled one out of the package. It was unopened. He flipped through the rest of them. Still sealed.

  “She never read them?”

  Manuela shook her head.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But I think you should read them.”

  Sawyer looked at the letters. His pulse started to pound. He might find the answers he’d been searching for—without Cora’s help. “Thank you, Manuela.” Without waiting for a response he rushed into the guest bedroom, shut the door, and sat on the edge of the bed. He opened the first letter.

  Dear Mother . . .

  CHAPTER 27

  Cora hung up the phone. The call to Kenneth had been pointless. Her attorney couldn’t help her with Sawyer. And Cora could tell her grandson couldn’t wait to leave.

  She thought the party might have broken the ice between them. But Sawyer had kept to himself. He was polite when spoken to. Smiled when necessary. She was impressed with his manners. Yet he was clearly ill at ease not only around the guests but in her apartment as well.

  She’d also hoped that exploring the city on his own might have piqued his curiosity. Instead, he seemed more irritated than ever. But she couldn’t blame his mood solely on being away from home. She was putting him off, and he didn’t hesitate to let his frustration show.

  Cora stood and walked to the bathroom. The pain in her hips had increased over the past few days. After downing two pain relievers, she looked in the mirror. Tried to discern what the doctor claimed he saw during her appointment. She looked normal. Maybe she needed a little more Botox to keep her brow line lifted, but nothing alarming. Nothing to warrant the battery of blood work and tests the physician insisted on.

  As she turned away from the mirror, she pushed her pain and physical issues out of her mind. Sawyer was her priority. Somehow she had to say or do something to convince him to stay. A private tour of the city, perhaps. She had access to places most New Yorkers only dreamed of seeing. During the tour she could find out what his interests were. Get to know him better.

  A chill ran through her. She’d have to tell Manuela to turn up the heat. Her hands trembled as she pulled her cashmere cardigan closer to her body and left her bedroom. She’d treat Sawyer to lunch, anywhere he wanted to go. Anything he desired. Whatever it would take to keep her grandson in New York, she was willing to do it.

  Anything but tell him the truth.

  She gathered her reserves and walked into the living room. “Sawyer?” she called. Then she saw him, sitting in the chair near the cold fireplace.

  She crossed the room. “You can turn this on whenever you—” The chill in her body shot straight to her heart. Her gaze went to the letters in her lap. “Where did you get those?”

  “Does it matter?” His jaw tightened, the muscle pulsing back and forth.

  “Yes, it does.” She walked over and reached for the letters. He pulled them out of her reach. “That is my personal property. You have no right—”

  “No right to know the real reason my parents left?” He held up the letters. “Too late. I already know. And I’m sure you weren’t planning to tell me.”

  She grasped at any remnant of calm, trying to maintain her composure. But confronted with the truth she’d tried to hide not only from everyone else but from herself as well, she couldn’t maintain her control.

  She dropped to the chair. “I threw those letters away.” Then the truth hit her. “Manuela!” she gasped.

  “Don’t blame her.”

  “I will fire her this instant.”

  Sawyer held up his hand. “If you do, I will walk out that door.”

  Cora paused. She could see he was serious. “All right. I won’t fire her.” Not yet.

  “How could you do this?” He stood. Paced in front of the fireplace. Stopped and glared at her. “How could you throw away my mother’s letters?”

  She gripped the arms of the chair. “I was . . . I was angry with her.”

  “She reached out to you.” Sawyer snatched a letter from the chair. “ ‘Dear Mother. This is my fifth letter to you. I know you must be angry with me, but I had hoped to hear from you by now. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I apologize. But I love Ray. I didn’t love Trenton Babbitt. Our marriage would have been a sham.’ ”

  “She didn’t even give him a chance.” Cora looked at Sawyer. “She left the morning of the wedding. Ran off with that ragamuffin of a man.”

  “That man was my father.” Sawyer’s voice shook. “He was a good man. He took care of me and Mom. We didn’t have all this.” He gestured to the penthouse. “But we had fun together. We had love. That’s all my mother wanted, was to love and be loved.” He clenched the letter. “But you didn’t care about that.”

  “I cared!” Cora rose. “I cared about her welfare. Her future. I didn’t want her to struggle. With Trenton she would never be—”

  “Poor?” Sawyer tossed down the letter. “She wouldn’t have been happy either.”

  “Happiness isn’t everything. It isn’t security. And she could have learned to love Trenton, and her place in society.” Cora looked away. “She never appreciated what I tried to give her.”

  “Oh, but she did.” Sawyer’s razor-sharp tone cut through the air. He picked up another letter. “She said so right here.

  ‘Mother, I now understand what you were trying to do for me. I have to be honest, I never would have married Trenton. But I miss you. I want us to be a family again. I have a son. His name is Sawyer.’ ”

  Sawyer paused. “‘He’s three now. Soon he’ll want to know about his grandmother. His family. I want you to meet him. Please say you forgive me. If not for my sake, for your grandson’s.’ ”

  Cora felt the color drain from her face. Out of anger and betrayal she had thrown away Kerry’s letters. Her embarrassment over her daughter’s behavior had encased her heart in layers of bitterness over the years.

  Her daughter had wanted forgiveness. But it was Cora who needed it. “Oh, Kerry,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “What have I done?”

  She heard Sawyer sigh. He went to her. Knelt down in front of her. “Grandmother,” he said.

  Her gaze lifted. Through her tears she smiled. “You haven’t called me that before.”

  “I know.”

  “Does this mean you’re staying?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t stay. I don’t want to.”

  “Oh.” She reached for a tissue in the box on the glass end table. “After what you know, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t belong here.
This penthouse. This city. Everything about this place proves I should be in Middlefield. With the Bylers.”

  “Your real family.” She blew her nose.

  “Yes. They’re my family.” He suddenly reached for her hand. “But you’re my family too. And even though I’m angry with what you’ve done, I know my mother would want us to have a relationship. For her sake, I will do that.”

  Hope sprang within Cora. “Does that mean you’ll be back?”

  “In due time.” He let go of her hand.

  “Irritating phrase, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. If I’d only opened those letters . . .”

  Sawyer stood up. He gathered the letters and brought them to her. “They’re open now. Read them. This is how I remember my mother. Kind. Funny. And sometimes a little sad. Now I understand why.”

  Cora took the letters. She put them in her lap, running her hand over her daughter’s handwriting. She looked up at Sawyer. “You’ll be leaving soon, then?”

  “Not yet. There’s something else you haven’t told me. About Laura. Why did you give her money?”

  “How did you—? Never mind.” She waved her hand at him. “You should forget about that girl.”

  “I can’t. I care for her.”

  She could see he was sincere. And deluded. “Please, listen to me, Sawyer. She doesn’t deserve you.”

  His dark brows furrowed. “Why? Because she’s Amish?

  Because she’s poor? Because she’s not physically perfect?”

  “Because she was so easily bought.”

  His grandmother’s words struck Sawyer’s heart like an arrow hitting a bull’s-eye. He fought for every ounce of patience he possessed. He failed.

  Lord, give me strength, he prayed. Since he’d arrived in New York, he’d been sending up these quick prayers, at first purely out of desperation. Now he knew they worked. He had prayed for his anger to diminish enough to allow him to reach out to his grandmother. Now he needed to be just as calm so he could find out the truth.

  Cora’s tears had dried up. Her usual cool mask was in place. “Sawyer, she took the money without hesitation.” She leaned against the chair, crossed one leg over her knee.

  “Why did you give it to her in the first place?”

  “To protect you.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. Try again. This time, with the truth.”

  Her façade slipped. “All right. Have it your way. I wanted her out of the way. I offered her enough money to take care of her face.”

  He frowned. “Her face? You mean the scars?”

  “Of course I mean the scars.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her face.” Sawyer let out a deep breath. “And you don’t understand the Amish. They’re not vain. She wouldn’t have plastic surgery unless it would save her life.”

  Cora shrugged. “Be that as it may, she took my money. And she asked for something else.”

  Confused, he went to her. “What?”

  “The services of my private investigator.”

  “So she didn’t go to Tennessee?”

  “Tennessee? Sawyer, Laura is in New York. Not the city— upstate somewhere. She is looking for a man named Mark Something.”

  “Mark King?” He tightened his fists.

  “King. Yes, that may be it. I don’t know for certain. I supplied her with what she needed to find him. All she had to do was make sure you came to New York with me. She kept up her end of the bargain.” Cora looked away. “I certainly can’t blame her for you leaving me.”

  But Sawyer barely heard his grandmother’s last words. Laura had lied to him.

  Was everyone around him filled with deception and deceit?

  Then the realization struck him full force. Laura had gone after Mark. Alone.

  He had to find her.

  “Where is she?”

  “You’re going after her?” Cora said. “Why on earth would you do that? She betrayed you. She—”

  Sawyer silenced her with a glance. “Those scars on her face? Mark King caused them. Who knows what else he’s capable of?”

  His grandmother turned even paler than usual. “Sawyer, I had no idea. I just gave her the information she asked for.” She rose from the chair and disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned with a business card. “This is the private investigator I hired. He’ll know where she is.”

  Sawyer took the card. “Thanks.” He headed for the door.

  “You’re leaving?” She trailed him into the foyer. “But you’ve left your bag here.”

  “Send it to Middlefield.”

  “What about money?”

  “I have enough.” He opened the door.

  She gripped his arm. “But you’ll need to rent a car. Money for lodging—”

  “Grandmother.” He faced her. “I’ve been working since I was fifteen. I have money.”

  “Oh.”

  He hurried out the door.

  “Sawyer?”

  Impatient, he spun around. “I have to go!”

  “Will you . . . please let me know you’re all right? Laura too.”

  He paused. “Yes, Grandmother. I will.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Laura looked out the window as the limo zipped down the freeway. Here, as in Ohio, brown leaves carpeted the landscape. The last remnants of sunlight dipped behind the horizon.

  “This is your exit.” The driver gestured to the right.

  “There’s the sign for your hotel.”

  “Is this Jasper?”

  The driver shook his head. “This is Corning. The Radisson’s the closest decent hotel. Jasper’s about thirty miles west on 417.”

  “But I need to go to Jasper.”

  “I got my instructions,” the man insisted. “I was to bring you here. When you’re ready in the morning, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

  “Thank you.” Laura clutched the door handle until her knuckles cramped. Cora had kept her word. During the past two days she’d managed to keep Sawyer in the dark while she made arrangements for Laura. First the detective. Then the information. Finally a car and driver, and hotel accommodations. By this time tomorrow she would be face-to-face with Mark King.

  And she had no idea what she would say to him.

  Later that evening she settled into the hotel room. Modest by Cora Easley’s standards, she supposed, but lavish enough to make an Amish girl feel out of place. King-sized bed, flatscreen TV, marble bathroom. Who needed such luxuries?

  Laura laid her suitcase on the low dresser and sat on the edge of the bed. Her stomach rumbled, but she wasn’t hungry. And it wasn’t because of nerves over her upcoming confrontation with Mark. All she could think about was Middlefield.

  Saying good-bye to Leona and Emma had been almost as difficult as leaving Sawyer. She had lied to them too, telling them she was going back home to Tennessee. Instead, she had cashed the check, then called Cora on the prepaid cell phone and asked how she could wire money to her parents in Etheridge. That debt was now paid, with enough left over to see to her needs until she could get back home again.

  Laura stood, fingering one of the strings on her kapp. The clerk at the front desk had looked at her strangely, but his curiosity could just as easily have been about the scars on her face as her Amish clothing.

  Her first time in a hotel. Her first time using a phone. And she was now farther from home than she’d ever been.

  Far from home, and far from God.

  She had broken so many rules to get here. Lied to her friends. To the man she had begun to fall in love with. Deceived her family—more than once. Allowed herself to be bought off by a rich woman who didn’t care a thing about her, just about what Laura could provide.

  All for a chance to get even with Mark King.

  The goal that had consumed her for months was within her reach. She should feel satisfied. Instead, she felt cold. Empty. Afraid. Most of all, alone.

  A knock at the door made her jump. Ex
cept for the driver, no one but Cora and the detective knew she was here.

  The knocking grew more insistent. Standing on tiptoe, she peered through the round peephole. She couldn’t see anyone.

  The knocking increased. “Laura?” a voice said. “Open up.”

  “Sawyer?” She opened the door to the length of the safety chain and looked out. If she was surprised to hear his voice, she was even more shocked by the angry look on his face. Then again, he had a right to be angry. “How did you find me?”

  “Let me in.”

  He wasn’t supposed to be here. Didn’t need to be here. “Nee. Geh back to your grandmother, Sawyer. That’s where you belong.”

  “I’m sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do. Now, let me in.”

  Laura pushed the door shut and unlatched the chain. He stormed in and slammed the door behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” she said.

  Sawyer turned, his brown eyes burning into hers. “Stopping you from doing something stupid.”

  “You have no right—”

  “I have every right. I care about you.” He moved closer to her. “I thought I made that clear in Middlefield. When you pushed me away.” He lowered his voice. “Even though you didn’t want to.”

  Her lips trembled. “I . . . I thought it was for the best. I still do.”

  Sawyer held up his hands. “It’s amazing how everybody else knows what’s best for me. What I need. You, my parents, my grandmother. Nobody thinks I have a brain of my own.”

  “That’s not true. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

  “Then why won’t you let me make my own decisions?” He drew nearer. “What do I have to do to make you trust me?”

  Laura licked her lips. “I do trust you.”

  “But not enough to take a chance on us.”

  She stepped back. “I took a chance, and look where it got me.”

  He shook his head. “Revenge got you here. That and my grandmother.”

  Her eyes widened. “She told you?”

  “It wasn’t too hard to figure out. I knew you pushed me away on purpose. And when I found out she paid you, I knew why.” His expression suddenly dropped. “You needed vengeance more than you needed me.”

 

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