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Page 11

by Marilyn Baron


  “He did say the door was not closed to the easement and that he wants to be a good neighbor, but that is his thinking at the moment. I’m not sure that offering him money right now makes sense, because he believes the real value of his property is its seclusion, which would be disturbed by the easement. Perhaps once his property sits on the market for a while, a little money for an easement will seem more appealing.”

  “Alec, I can’t wait that long. I can’t stay here forever. I’ve got to get back.”

  Alec hung his head. “You don’t like Confrontation, do you? Could you ever see living here?”

  “Alec, you’ve lived in New York. How can you even think that I would be happy living—” Amelia stopped in mid-sentence, realizing she was insulting his home.

  “But if you loved somebody, then—well, wouldn’t that make a difference?”

  How could he talk of love? They’d had sex, great sex, and Alec was a great guy, but love? Could it happen that fast? It had happened that fast for Necey and Moss. But she couldn’t leave her home to live on a mountain in the wilderness. She wasn’t a pioneer, for God’s sake.

  “Maybe we can talk about this later,” he suggested. “We’re here.”

  Alec and Amelia got out of the car and approached Mr. Rhinegold’s cabin. It was remote and stark compared to Mrs. Jenkins’ model home. “Secluded” was the word Alec had used. It was definitely that.

  Keith Rhinegold was a big man, the size of an ox, and his breath was foul and his body odor reeked. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

  Amelia wrinkled her nose.

  “Mr. Rhinegold.” Alec offered his hand. “This is Miss Amelia Rushing.” Amelia nodded her head but didn’t take his hand. “She’s the granddaughter of Katherine Rushing, who owns the Rushing place. Amelia’s grandfather recently passed away, and now Katherine wants to sell the place. In order to do that, they would need an easement from you.”

  Mr. Rhinegold frowned. “I told you on the phone that this property is special. I’m way up here, the closest place to heaven. What if she sold the property to someone who wanted to build condos on it? It would destroy the natural beauty of the property.”

  Condos in Confrontation? That prospect was almost laughable. What builder would make an investment like that?

  “Well, Miss Rushing obviously can’t forecast who would buy the property and what they would use it for.”

  “I just got married last month. I need to talk it over with the wife, and then I need to have a conversation with God.”

  Amelia gulped. Somebody married this man? And he had a hotline to God?

  “That’s fine, Mr. Rhinegold. Just don’t take too long. We have some interested buyers, and we might be able to work something out where we don’t need your easement. Here’s my card. Give me a call when you reach a decision. We’d make it worth your while.”

  Amelia blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  Alec put his hand around Amelia’s shoulders and guided her to the car.

  “That didn’t go well, did it?” she asked.

  “I didn’t expect him to jump at the first offer, but I think he’ll come around eventually.”

  Amelia put on her seatbelt, and Alec started the car and drove back down to the cabin.

  It really was beautiful and peaceful here. Could she ever envision living here? No, not even with a great guy like Alec. What would she do here all day? How could she raise a child here?

  Necey had managed it.

  Amelia was tired. It had been a long day.

  Alec seemed to read her mind. They were growing more and more in tune with each other.

  “You sit on the couch and put your feet up on a pillow. I’ll massage your feet, and then I’ll start dinner. After dinner, we can work on your fitness regimen.” He winked at her, pulled off her shoes and socks, and began massaging her sore feet.

  It felt glorious. She could definitely get used to this.

  “Is it working yet?” Alec asked.

  “What?”

  “My deadly charm.”

  Amelia laughed. “I’ll admit, this feels good.”

  “You feel good to me, Amelia. I think we could be good for each other.”

  “Except for the fact that your hometown is geographically undesirable.”

  “And I’ve been to Miami. The traffic is a mess, and there’s no change of seasons to speak of.”

  “But there is a beach.”

  “If you like to burn to a crisp. Personally, I prefer cooler temperatures.”

  “Well, then we can agree to disagree.”

  While Alec was busy cooking dinner in the kitchen, Amelia relaxed. Alec came back into the living room.

  “While dinner’s cooking, could we do some research on Moss Hathaway?”

  “Sure,” Amelia said, sitting up. “He was an interesting guy.”

  “I don’t know anything about him, or his art, but I’d like to learn.”

  Amelia reached for her iPad and motioned for Alec to sit next to her on the couch. She typed in “Moss Hathaway.”

  Up popped his most recent picture. Alec just stared at it. She’d shown him before, but now that he’d had time to mull over his relationship with the dead artist his interest had increased. Alec was definitely Moss Hathaway’s son. They looked just alike.

  “It’s pretty remarkable, isn’t it?” Amelia prompted.

  “It’s like I’m looking at a picture of myself.”

  “You’re a part of him, Alec.” Alec nodded toward the iPad.

  “What else is there?”

  Amelia scanned the links. “Well, he pretty much disappeared in 1985. His car was found in Confrontation, but not his body. No one suspected foul play. He just disappeared. His wife never heard from him again. The police couldn’t find evidence of him. A few of his paintings turned up in private collections over the years, but no new Moss Hathaways have surfaced on the open market since his disappearance.”

  “Was he a good artist?” Alec asked.

  “He was amazing. I studied him in college. Here, let me show you some of his work.” She positioned the iPad again into Alec’s range of vision.

  Alec concentrated on the paintings.

  “His work hangs in museums and private collections all over the world,” Amelia said. “If a new Moss Hathaway painting was discovered today, it would be worth millions. He has quite a cult following.”

  “I mostly see landscapes,” Alec observed.

  “That was his specialty. He traveled around the country capturing the beauty of the land. He has a very realistic style. If he paints a tree, you can tell it’s a tree. In a Hathaway, a cloud is a cloud. A lake is a lake. A person is a person, not a jumble of cubes. But the one he painted of your mother was nothing like his original work. It has a lightness about it, a freer use of color, and he had never painted portraits before. Your mother must have really inspired him.”

  “The letters said he had painted other things here. Your grandmother said she has them. I’d like to see them.”

  “I’m dying to see them. Would you have time to come to Miami?”

  “I can take off for a few days. I doubt we’ll hear from anyone about the property immediately. Let’s give the buyers a chance to consider our offers. We can fly down there. I’d like to ask your grandmother some more questions about Moss and my mother. She saw them together for the last time.”

  “Alec, I can’t afford to fly down there. And I don’t fly during hurricane season.”

  “The flight is on me. It’s something I’m asking you to do, so don’t argue with me. And hurricane season is only just beginning.”

  “Okay. I’m sure she would love to meet you. I’ll call her.” Alec wandered back into the kitchen.

  Amelia picked up her cell phone and dialed her grandmother.

  “Grandma, yes, everything’s fine. We’re getting close to selling the property. How are you doing?”

  “Your father brought me over to Eternal Gardens
again. He said we were just stopping by to see if I liked it. But I had to sign some papers. I have all this space here, and in that place I’d only have one room. The bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the bedroom—all in one room. And there’s no balcony. How am I going to get my fresh air? ”

  “Dad said they offered two meals a day, and you could also get lunch if you wanted. Wouldn’t that be nice if you didn’t have to cook anymore? And I understand they have a nice pool. You could sit outside and read. And they have a piano player every night at dinner. And bingo and an exercise room.”

  “I hate to exercise. We had dinner there. It was good, but I don’t want to live there. I’m not ready for that place. All those people are half gone. Why would I want to be locked up in a place like that?”

  “Grandma, you’re not being locked up. You’ll be living in luxury with all the conveniences. Dad doesn’t want you living alone, and you hated having people in the house to help you.”

  “I told you and I told him, I don’t need any help, but I think he’s already signed me up. I don’t think I have a choice.”

  “Oh, Grandma, I’m sorry. Listen, I want to fly back to Miami tomorrow, and I’m going to bring Alec Brady with me.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely. I’ll get to meet Moss and Necey’s son.”

  “And Grandma, we want to see the paintings. Can you come with us and show us where they are?”

  “Of course. They’re in a secure place, and they’re being well preserved. I’m glad you’re going to get them so I don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

  “I’m sure Necey appreciated you taking care of them all these years. So we’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Bye, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you.”

  Alec wandered back into the living room and plopped down on a recliner. “Marie Antoinette dropped by while you were on the phone with your grandmother. I gave her permission to stay here while we’re gone, and I told her to call me as soon as Uncle Bundy gets back. I’ve wrapped up everything at the office, so we’re clear to go.”

  Amelia checked her weather app.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking the radar to see if it’s okay to fly.”

  “You know that’s crazy, don’t you? The airlines aren’t going to let a plane take off if it’s not safe.”

  “I don’t believe in taking chances.”

  Alec threw up his arms. “What am I going to do with you? You know your fears are irrational, don’t you?”

  “Maybe, but they’re my fears, and the app says it’s okay to go. I’ll start packing.”

  Amelia went into her bedroom and put her remaining clean clothes into a carry-on bag, then checked on Alec. He was throwing some undershirts, cotton briefs, blue jeans, and a couple of dress pants and shirts into a black wheeling bag. He might be a country boy, but he seemed determined to look presentable in front of her grandmother. Country Mouse goes to the Big City.

  Amelia could hardly contain her excitement. She would be the first person in decades to see the new Moss Hathaway collection. Her grandmother hadn’t looked at the paintings since she sold the last one to finance Alec’s law school expenses. Finally, her art degree would come in handy. The paintings belonged to Alec now, but she could counsel him on how to proceed, help him value the work, connect him with some galleries or dealers or museums when he was ready to dispose of the collection.

  She hoped her grandmother had really kept the collection in the right conditions all these years so the paintings hadn’t deteriorated. She didn’t know what they’d find, but she had never been looking forward to anything more.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amelia stepped out of the rental car. She was a bit nervous about her grandmother meeting Alec for the first time. Alec had checked them into a hotel on the beach at Fort Lauderdale, close to her grandmother’s condo, and they had deposited their luggage in their room. He’d only reserved one room, which made perfect sense since they would probably be spending the night together anyway. She hadn’t objected. In fact, she was eager to be alone with him.

  At her grandmother’s retirement development they rode the elevator to the fourth floor. They walked to the end of the hall, and she knocked on the door of her grandmother’s condo.

  When Katherine Rushing came to the door, Amelia threw her arms around her. Then she stepped back.

  “What a surprise!”

  “Grandma, I told you we were coming. Didn’t you write the date down on your calendar?”

  “What calendar?”

  Amelia winced. Her grandmother was regressing at a rapid pace. She walked over to the dining room table and picked up the calendar. Then she brought it over to her grandmother. “It’s right here. Amelia’s visit.”

  “Oh, yes. Now, I remember.”

  “Grandma, I’d like you to meet Alec Brady. Alec is Necey’s son. Alec, this is my grandmother, Katherine Rushing.”

  Katherine swayed and placed her hand over her forehead.

  Alec caught her in his arms. “Are you feeling okay, Mrs. Rushing? Why don’t you have a seat?” He escorted Katherine to the couch.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that, for a minute, the years slipped away. You look so much like your father. I thought I’d seen a ghost. I thought Moss had come back.”

  Alec took the chair across from her, and Amelia sat next to her grandmother after handing her a glass of water. Her grandmother’s short-term memory was shot. She only hoped she wouldn’t have difficulty remembering or relaying events that took place thirty years ago.

  “It’s obvious where Amelia gets her good looks.”

  “This one’s a charmer, Amelia.” Katherine smiled. “Just like his father.”

  “I’ve been telling Amelia that.”

  “You have no idea how much you favor your father. It’s uncanny. Not only your looks but the way you talk, your mannerisms. It’s as if Moss himself were sitting in the room with us. I remember him like it was yesterday.”

  Alec looked across the room and noticed the large painting of the cabin.

  “Is that a Moss Hathaway?”

  “Yes, it is. Your father gave us that painting so we would always have a bit of the mountains in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “Tell me about him,” Alec prompted.

  Katherine took a drink of water and set down the glass on a coaster.

  “He was a handsome man. And he was a good man. And he was so much in love with your mother. I’ve never seen two people more in love. They would have lived a long and happy life together, if—”

  “Go on,” Alec prompted.

  “It still upsets me to talk about that day. If only they had been left alone. They had a brief period of happiness, and for that your mother was grateful. But they were cheated—she was cheated—out of the life they could have had. They had such big plans. They could have had an amazing life.”

  “I heard you talking to Amelia over the phone. I know what my uncle did, but I want to hear the details from you. Until Amelia told me, I never knew who my father was. My mother never told me.”

  “That’s because everyone was afraid of Bunnell. Everyone knew what had happened. It was such a small community, but it was locked up tight. No one said a word, not to the police, not to you. No one ever mentioned it again because of Bunnell’s threats.

  “But after I left, Necey called me and wrote to me frequently. I was the only person she could talk to about Moss. She called me when you were born because she knew how excited I’d be that Moss had left a legacy. She was so proud. I don’t know how she could have stayed there on that mountain after what happened, but she had nowhere else to go. I let her use our cabin because I was never going back there.”

  “How did you first meet him, my father?”

  “I remember the day like it just happened. Amelia’s grandfather and I were in our rocking chairs on the front porch, just about twilight. A man, a very handsome but exhausted man, came walking up the hill and tol
d us he had driven all day and his car had overheated. He asked could he use our phone to call for assistance. Of course, we didn’t have a phone back then, but we invited him in, gave him something to drink and a nice meal, and offered him the spare room to stay the night, since it was obvious nothing was going to get done before morning and he couldn’t have taken one more step, he was so worn out. I think it was fate that brought your father up that mountain.

  “We talked for hours, and he opened up to us. We asked if anyone would be missing him or would be worrying, and he said no. He was married, but his marriage was a source of unhappiness. His wife didn’t want children, and she had turned to someone else. He needed to get away. He needed a change of scene. He told us he was an artist. Of course we’d never heard of him. My husband, Will, and I didn’t know much about art. But after I saw his paintings, I admired his work tremendously.

  “The next morning, Will drove Moss to the bottom of the hill and helped him unload his suitcase and his art supplies. Will took a look at the car and declared it undrivable. By then, Moss was rested and, after looking around the property, asked if he could possibly rent the spare room. He fell in love with the mountain and had to paint it. We could use the money, so we agreed. But then we didn’t want to take any money from him. So after a while he painted that picture for us.

  “He was outside painting when your mother, when Necey, came around with her basket of fresh eggs for us. One look at her and Moss was head over heels. Necey was shy, but you could tell she was interested in him, too. They were thunderstruck, like you see in the movies. It was like there was a live wire strung between them, and from that moment on they were bound together as one.”

  Alec smiled and bowed his head. “And then what?” He was as excited as a little boy riding a shiny red bicycle when he asked about his parents’ relationship.

  “Well, then, he set about painting her,” Katherine said. “He told us he hadn’t painted in months. He had come to the mountains for inspiration, and he found it when he set eyes on Necey. He couldn’t wait to set up his canvases, paints, and brushes. So he painted Necey everywhere—in front of the cabin, up at the cemetery, at the top of the mountain, and by herself. She became his artist’s model. For the first time in her life, she was the center of attention. Not one-third of the triplets, not a sister, not a daughter, but a lover. It was her first and, I imagine, her last time in love.

 

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