by Susan Sands
But now that she’d created something real with Jason, she owed it to their future to set this recent surge of old soreness behind her. She couldn’t risk opening up wounds and stirring the anger and questions about the past with Grey. She could ask, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to go down that road, no matter the answers.
Cammie had never considered herself vengeful, and though there were times she’d wished Deb a painful existence, she never wished her dead. By the time she’d returned home to the family interrogation, she’d been filled with unspoken emotion.
As Cammie rounded the corner, lost in yesterday’s events, she was nearly deafened by a shrill scream. Her lips formed a surprised, but joyful ‘o’ as she found herself face-to-face with a large, ageless black woman—one she’d known and loved since childhood—one who obviously hadn’t expected to see Cammie here either.
“Rosie! Oh, Rose, it’s so good to see you.” They embraced. Well, it was more like being picked up by a grizzly bear and twirled around.
“Oh, my baby! How you been?” Rose still wore the old type uniform of a pale grey underdress with a full starched, white apron, bib-style, covering her ample bosom all the way to mid shin and tied at her thick waist. “Honey, just look at your sweet face.”
“Rosie, I’ve missed you. How are you and your family?”
“Oh, honey, we’re just fine, like always.” Rose dabbed at her eyes with her apron. Then, her expression became fierce. “I seen you on the television with that woman all screamin’ and her hair on fire. Darlin’ you didn’t do that? I know you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t, Rosie. But she had to blame somebody, and that was how she chose to handle it.” Cammie shrugged.
“People who lie go to hell, you know?” Rose’s face was dead serious. Cammie nearly burst out laughing at her expression.
“I don’t want anybody going to hell on my account, Rosie,” Cammie reached over and hugged Rose again, just to wipe away her grave mood.
“I guess you saw that boy, Grey, working here on your momma’s house?”
“Yeah. I saw him. They didn’t tell me, Rosie, they just let me run right into him after all this time.”
“I told your momma they’d better tell you before you got here that he’d be under foot. Ain’t no way they should’ve let that happen, honey. I’d have called you and told you myself if I’d known they didn’t fill you in. If you ask me, she should have sent him packing when he showed up here.”
“What do you mean he showed up here?” Cammie wasn’t sure she wanted another reason to be pissed at her mother or the rest of the bunch, but she had to ask.
“I was cleaning when he came by the first time, I don’t want to be accused of eavesdropping.” Rose shrugged. “You’ll need to ask your momma about that. Like I said, she didn’t ask what I thought, so it’s not my business what she decided to do about her money and doing work around here. But you had a right to know the boy was back and would be here in the house before you came home.”
It was so like Rose to tell her something without telling her anything to make sure she was in the loop and knew what questions to ask. So, Grey had come to Mom. Very interesting. Why would he have done that?
Cammie changed the subject. “I’m surprised to see you still working. I thought Mom said you’d planned to retire last year.”
Rose’s shoulders relaxed, “I’m mostly retired from heavy work, but I come by to make sure my girls are handling things like they’re supposed to. Your momma still needs me around here, you know? Who else is gonna make sure everything’s done just so?” They were standing on the second floor landing at the foot of the stairs.
“You’ve got a point there. I feel better knowing you’re here to help take care of things. Especially now that Mom’s had this surgery. Rose, can I ask you about the kitchen?”
“Your momma’s been real funny about her kitchen, lately. She ain’t let me near it except to make sure it’s surface clean. I think since she’s not been cooking, she feels bad about it. But I’m danged determined to get in there today and do some scrubbing. I’ve got a couple of my girls with me to do the heavy cleaning. I’m getting too old to get down on my hands and knees anymore.”
“You certainly don’t need to be down on the floor. But I’m planning to stock up on supplies, so it would help to have the kitchen ready when I haul things in later today. Mom won’t have much of a choice how I deal with the kitchen while I’m here.”
“Don’t you worry, none. She’ll be just fine before ya know it, honey. Do whatever you got to, and I’ll help all I can. I got to get back to work, but just holler if you need me.” Rosie gave her another quick squeeze and ambled down the stairs.
Cammie felt like a little girl again just knowing her Rosie was in the house and just a squeal away. Rose’d always been there when they’d been children to kiss boo-boos, break up sibling fights, and make things sparkle. Cammie’s day had just improved.
Judging by the banging and scraping noises she’d overheard from the library down the hall, Grey was hard at work. That was a room she planned to steer clear of, if possible. She’d noticed he’d come in just after eight o’clock this morning, likely once Samantha was off to school. It gave Cammie one more piece of information to file away in her plan to avoid any new awkward situations.
She pushed all thoughts of Grey to the back of her brain where they belonged. Right now, there were more important matters to focus her energy and attention on. Food and the Evangeline House kitchen.
Today, she planned to shop at the local Costco and stock up on the main staples. Then, she would put a dent in the local organic market outside of town.
Cammie’d looked them up on the internet to see if they were open this week. Always preferring to use as many fresh ingredients as possible when cooking and baking, she loved the idea of the farmer’s market and the organic methods employed in cultivating their produce. She’d prepared the menus and made a few calls to clients aligning her specialties with their tastes. They would have the opportunity to stop by and taste test items before the events.
The changes were slight, but well worth it. This weekend was the Forrester event, an intimate wedding anniversary, and the Dupree wedding reception. She would have the family representatives from each event swing by Friday to double check everything was in perfect order. Her mother had booked and prepared for these events for months ahead.
Outsourcing the catering was a killer in this business, even though she now understood that her mother’s back pain and staff cuts necessitated this drastic measure. Bob, the electrician with more butt-crack showing than two plumbers combined, was working on the oven. And after today, the rest of the kitchen should be good to go.
Martin’s, the local independent grocery/deli had been contracted to cater the food for the weekend’s events. Cammie had read on the invoice of their forty-eight hour cancellation policy. They were pretty much the only game in town besides The Evangeline House and a couple local hotels and restaurants several miles away. She would cancel the food even though it wasn’t very neighborly.
She decided to head there first and get it over with. She hesitated to walk in and take away business from them. On the other hand, Evangeline House couldn’t afford to lose the revenue either. Especially with the repairs Grey was making. Who knew how much that would cost them?
She had gone over the menu and could easily replicate and improve on it. Obviously, she would do a far nicer spread than the local grocer—not to belittle their talents. Martin’s did a decent job for this area, or her mother wouldn’t have considered using them. But canceling the order would be tricky, mostly because Cammie and the Martin’s daughter, Jenna had a strained relationship.
Hopefully Jenna wouldn’t be around. They’d been good friends way back. All that business with Grey and Deb from years past pretty much did a number on Cammie’s friendships around here. Mostly because she hadn’t maintained steady contact with anyone in town. Several of her old friends had tried,
but had given up after a while. Who could blame them?
Twenty minutes later, as Cammie entered the store, the bell hanging from the handle tinkled. When she approached the deli counter, a female voice called from the back room, “Be with you in just a sec—”
Cammie recognized the voice, when a woman appeared through the door. “Well, look here, it’s Cammie Laroux as I live and breathe.” Hand on her hip, with what looked like fresh, disposable clear gloves on her hands, a butcher’s apron over top of jeans, and a white t-shirt; Jenna Martin was posed in defiance.
Crap. “Hey, Jenna. It’s good to see you again.”
“Right. So good, you thought you’d come in town and not call, as usual? Of course now that you’re famous, should I expect something different?”
“I was going to call as soon as things settled down at the house. You know my mom just had back surgery?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s why we’re taking care of the food this weekend for her. You know we’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Jenna was still a pretty girl, though she’d gained a good fifteen pounds since high school. Her curly dark hair strained at its confinement, her cupid’s bow mouth twisted in a less than pleasant smile.
“Jenna, I’m sorry.”
“Save it, fancy pants. What can I get for you?” Jenna’s dark eyes narrowed. Obviously she wasn’t going to make this easy for Cammie.
And it was about to get worse. Cammie cleared her throat, “That’s why I’m here. I’m going to handle the catering this weekend. So, we won’t need your services.”
“Are you kidding?” Cammie was very thankful Jenna didn’t have a meat cleaver in her grasp at the moment.
“No, I can easily handle the catering while I’m here. I read in Mom’s notes that you have a forty-eight-hour cancellation policy, so I wanted to let you know ahead of time that we’ve changed plans.
“Forty-eight hours is for a sandwich tray, maybe.” Jenna sneered.
“It did sound generous.” Lame, and they both knew it.
“I’ve already purchased fifty Cornish hens, a twenty-five pound sack of risotto, tons of phyllo dough for the desserts, and more butter, vegetables, and other supplies than I can cover the loss for. So, your, ‘Oh, so sorry, I’m going to cater my own wedding and birthday party for over a hundred people,’ kind of screws me over!” Jenna’s face was an angry red.
“Hey, Jenna, take it easy. I’ll buy the supplies and the hens from you. It’s the least I can do. I’m sorry for canceling so late and I do apologize for taking back the catering business. My mom wasn’t able to handle it all while she’s been down. But we can’t afford to send it out, either. It kills the profit margin. You’re a business owner, you understand.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes but her complexion lost some of its mottled appearance. She grudgingly gave in, “Fine, I’ll go get the stuff. I hope you brought a truck.”
“Nope, just mom’s U-boat of a station wagon.” That almost brought a smile to Jenna’s face, she was sure of it. They’d had some good times in that station wagon.
As they were loading frozen fowl on a dolly back in the freezer, the bell jingled on the front door of the shop. “Just a couple more back here. Check and see who’s out there, would you?” Jenna directed her.
“Yeah, sure.” Cammie’s teeth were chattering, and she was happy for an excuse to escape.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Grey Harrison, his brows raised in surprise, stood on the other side of the counter. His navy blue t-shirt fit snug, reminding her of their recent ladder encounter. A handsome smile played around his lips.
She wished herself back inside the freezer.
Smiling tightly, she said, “I’m picking up supplies from Jenna for this weekend’s events.” Was the man following her? Or just picking up lunch? The grocery made the best deli sandwiches in town. Cammie must figure out how to put a damned tracker on him so she could avoid him. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her cheeks redden. Great.
“Cammie, who’s out there?” Jenna called from the back.
“It’s me, Jenna.” Grey called back to her.
“Oh, hey, Grey. I’ve got your order ready. Give me a second.” Jenna came out then; her apron and gloves had vanished, hair expertly tousled, the transformation nothing short of miraculous. Most transformative was her expression. Gone was the sour, pinchy Jenna. The now-beaming Jenna must haven eaten her predecessor, as she was nowhere to be seen.
“Can I give you ladies a hand?” Grey asked.
“That would be great. We’re about to load up Cammie’s car,” Jenna was quick to answer, now all syrup and honey instead of piss and vinegar like she’d been before. That was how Cammie remembered her. She’d never been a real softie until the cute boys rolled by. But she had been fun to go out with on a Saturday night.
“It would be my pleasure to help with that.” He sounded so Southern, if he said Ma’am, she might swoon.
He suggested they load some of the items in his truck for additional space since he’d be heading back to Evangeline House shortly, but Cammie declined the offer.
By the time they’d stuffed her car to the brim, Jenna was behaving in an oddly girlie manner and obviously wished Cammie off the nearest cliff. Sorry, girlfriend, no cliffs in this part of Alabama.
Cammie couldn’t tell much by Grey’s relaxed, offhand behavior. He should have been a poker player—he would be filthy rich. Or a stripper—that would likely be profitable as well, based on the way every muscle rippled under his shirt as it stretched taut across his shoulders, chest, and biceps as he lifted and carried the heavy items to the car.
Cammie was damned uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to be on her way. Before she managed to make her way out to the car, slam the door, and get the thing in reverse, Grey was knocking on her window.
What?
“Do you need help unloading the car once you get home?”
Really?
“No, I’ll be fine. Enjoy your lunch.” Again, she tried to turn away and put the car in gear. Another knock at the window.
Geez.
She rolled it down, trying not to appear as impatient and bothered as she felt. “Yes?”
“Are you sure?” He asked.
Was he freaking kidding? “Cross my heart. Rosie is there with two helpers and the gardener will gladly lend a hand. So, thanks.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” He grinned and waved.
This time she waited a moment before attempting to back up to make certain she wouldn’t run over a foot. When he showed no signs of stopping her progress, she began her short trip home in the massive station wagon. She was shaking by the time she made it to the road heading toward her house.
Why am I behaving like such an idiot? It was lucky for her the spell was broken the second he was out of range.
As she drove back toward Evangeline House, Cammie’s thoughts weren’t focused on the road as they might have been, and when the station wagon suddenly crashed into the gigantic buck that appeared out of nowhere, Cammie’s forehead and chest slammed forward into the steering wheel without the impediment of an airbag.
While wheezing air back into her lungs, relief flooded through her the she hadn’t slid down the steep embankment beside the road. Something drizzled down her nose. She wiped at it and took a look. Blood. Darkness surrounded her vision and swallowed it.
Chapter Five
‡
“Cammie looks good, don’t you think? It must be hard on her—being such a laughingstock and all.” At the sound of Cammie’s name, Grey’s head had whipped around. They’d all been friends, back in the day, but there was an edge to Jenna’s tone and a gleam in her eye that didn’t give him such a friendly vibe at that moment.
“Huh? Yeah, she looks good.” He decided not to bite on Jenna’s laughingstock comment.
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. “The two of you seem to be getting along pretty well, considering.”
“I’m grateful she’s speaking to me,” Grey admit
ted.
“Can’t say I blame you after everything that happened back then. Too bad Cammie has her work cut out for her over at the plantation with the place falling down and all, bless her heart.” The dreaded ‘bless her heart.’ It was the South’s most effective way to cut down on the sting of an insult or bad news. “God love ’em” came in a close second.
“I’m working over at Evangeline House and so far see no evidence of it falling down, Jenna. Where did you hear that?” He had to be careful around here with the gossip mill working over time now that he and Cammie were both back in town.
“Well, I’d understood they’re close to shutting them down altogether because it isn’t safe for folks to be anywhere near there. I wouldn’t want to have my wedding there—might turn into a funeral, if you know what I mean.”
That kind of unfounded and mean-spirited talk could potentially cause real problems. How could he best turn this around without raising Jenna’s hackles?
“Jenna, seems to me you wouldn’t want anyone thinking you were spreading a rumor that might hurt their business, would you?”
A shamed flush spread across her cheeks. “Certainly not. Cammie’s my friend. I mean, we haven’t been so close lately, but I’d never do anything to hurt her or her family on purpose. You don’t think that of me, do you, Grey?” She blinked like she had something in both eyes and was trying to clear them. Oh wait, she was batting her eyelashes at him.
He pulled out his wallet, intending to pay for his lunch order. “Of course not, Jenna. But I hope you understand that Evangeline House is going to be just fine?” There, that ought to fix her gossip wagon.
Grey paid for his lunch and marveled at the cattiness he’d observed over the years of some women. Who knew Jenna Martin could be so hateful? The cerebral warfare females waged, fueled by jealousy and anger, terrified Grey. Guys settled disputes with a punch in the nose and a shared beer afterward. Very little lasting damage that way.