“Give me a couple of hours,” his dad rasped out. “I’ll meet you at the Gathering Grounds at three thirty p.m. Will that work?”
“Yeah. That’ll give me some ti to my grandma?” LucindaanNoahme to finish going through his desk. I’ll see you then.” Noah hung up and turned back to his task, his mind still reeling.
A couple of hours later, Noah headed out to meet with his dad. He gripped the steering wheel of his Ford pickup while the beginnings of a plan fomented. He’d seen more of Afghanistan and Iraq than he’d ever seen of the U.S. and knew very little of the country he’d fought to protect. Worse, he’d forgotten why he’d gone to war in the first place. Matt’s letter had given him an idea, and the more he mulled it over, the more sense it made.
He’d buy a camper, hitch it to his truck, and travel to Perfect, Indiana. He needed to find out if Ceejay Lovejoy had kept his stepbrother’s baby. If so, having a grandchild would go a long way toward healing his stepmother’s broken heart—if the Lovejoys allowed them into their lives, that is. Maybe Ceejay and the child needed help and would welcome them with open arms. Or maybe she’d married by now and had a blended family. No matter what, he needed to know. They all needed to know.
If she hadn’t kept the baby, he’d take off and travel around the U.S. until he got his head straight. Besides, if he didn’t leave soon, he and his father were going to start some serious head butting. Not a good idea in his present state.
Noah pulled up to the curb next to the coffee shop, cut the engine, and snatched the letter from the seat next to him. Talking to his father would take patience, and he no longer had any to give. For Allison’s sake, he had to keep it together. He did a visual check of the area and rooftops before entering. Habit.
Being in the coffee shop put him on hyperalert status. He scanned the room for...what? The enemy? He shook his head and let the scent of strong, freshly ground coffee penetrate the fog of apprehension gripping him. Noah located his father toward the rear of the room. Good. He’d be able to sit with his back against the wall and his eyes on the door.
“Hey, Dad.” Noah slid into the wooden booth.
“I got you coffee.” His dad pushed the cup toward him. “Let’s see this letter.”
Noah handed it to him and took a sip of the strong brew. His father ran a hand over his chin, and Noah noticed the old man had more lines on his face. He looked older, and right now, regret clouded his eyes.
“Don’t mention this to Allison,” his dad said. “It’ll break her heart all over again if she gets her hopes up, only to learn...”
“I agree. That’s why I came to you first.” When it came to Allison, Noah had never doubted his father’s complete and utter devotion. Noah had once believed he’d share that kind of love with someone someday. Dreams of a wife and family of his own had always been there in the back of his mind. Not anymore. He’d buried that hope in the desert sand along with his sanity. “What was going on with Matt five years ago? What was he doing in Indiana?”
“You know what a temper he had.” His dad took a deep breath and let it out. “Matt came to me asking for money to fund his pipe dreams. He wanted to become a big-time stock car racer, and LPS was supposed to be his biggest sponsor. I told him I’d give him a free ride to any college or trade school he chose. I even offered him a job at LPS again. He turned it all down and threw a fit. He said he learn how to cope with. t c’d find a way to make it without us and left. Your stepmother and I didn’t hear from him for two years. By the time he returned, he had a gig with an outfit that paid him to drive for them.”
“Why didn’t I know about any of this?” He frowned.
“You were deployed. We didn’t want you stressed about anything going on at home. Besides, what could you have done?”
Noah nodded, and his jaw clenched. “I also found a life insurance policy naming Ceejay Lovejoy as the sole beneficiary.”
His father leveled a somber look his way. “If this Ceejay didn’t keep the baby, I don’t want Allison to know anything about this. It’d kill her to learn Matt walked away from his own flesh and blood. Her ex-husband did the same when Matt was only a couple of weeks old.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Allison doesn’t talk about it. She tried so hard to raise her son to be different.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll hire a private investigator, and—”
“I have a better idea.” Noah straightened. “I’ll head to Indiana myself. If Ceejay Lovejoy kept the baby, I’ll take some time to get to know them before springing the Langfords on them.”
“You’re in no shape to go anywhere. Stay home. Work for LPS, and—”
“Dad, we’ve been through this more times than I care to count. LPS is not for me.”
“I know. You wanted a military career, but that’s over with now.” He started fiddling with his empty coffee cup. “It would help if you had a job to go to every day. At least give it some thought, son.” Staring at the artwork on the brick wall next to him, his dad swore under his breath. “What was Matt thinking?” He shot Noah a questioning look as if he had the answers.
He didn’t. Noah shook his head and swallowed the rising bitterness. Committing such an act of selfishness was beyond his comprehension.
“At least we can give Matt’s child every advantage we have to offer,” Ed continued. “We’ll set them up in his condo and give the mother a job.”
“Wait,” Noah said. “Think about it. If she’d kept the baby, wouldn’t she have come looking for Matt? At the very least he owed her child support. That’s the law, and if she knew about his connection to LPS, she’d have demanded a lot more than support after the way he treated her.”
His father leaned back. “As angry as he was at the time, I doubt he mentioned the Langford name. Matthew was a Wyatt. How would she make the connection?” His brow furrowed. “She might have searched and found nothing. Where is this town anyway?”
“Perfect is on the Ohio River.” Noah reached into his pocket for the Google map he’d printed and laid it on the table. “Evansville is the closest city. I know you mean well, but we can’t just charge down there expecting her to welcome us with open arms. If she did keep the child, she’s not going to uproot her life simply because we want her to.” Noah shifted again. The hardness of the seat was beginning to wear on him. “I’ve been giving my future some thought. I plan to buy a fifth-wheel camper trailer—”
“What’s that got to do with Matthew’s child?”xcitement thrummed through h c pi
“Hear me out.” He fought against the urge to snap at his dad and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll head to Indiana first. If there is no child, I’ll hand off the letter, money, and insurance policy and be on my way. I want to see this country—”
“Noah—”
“Just listen.” He glared. “I want to travel for a year. I need to get my head together and figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” His gut knotted. “If I haven’t found any answers by the end of the year, I’ll give LPS a shot.” Man, he hoped it didn’t come to that. “If there is a child, like I said before, I’ll stay nearby if I can and try to get to know them before telling them about our connection to Matt.”
His dad scrutinized him for a long moment. “A Langford in a camper trailer,” he muttered and shook his head. “Langfords do not live in trailers.”
Noah grunted. “This Langford will.” He had a mission, and the forward momentum felt good.
Perfect, Indiana—an idyllic post–Civil War town nestled on the banks of the Ohio River. That’s what the welcome sign said, so it must be true. Main Street looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, with redbrick storefronts, colonial blue and white trim, and potted geraniums blooming out of window boxes everywhere.
Even with a stop sign at every corner, it took only three minutes to pass through town. Noah pulled into a gas station on the outskirts and filled his tank. He went inside, grabbed a soda from the refrigerated case, and handed his credit card to
a gum-chewing teenager behind the counter. Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore too much makeup, as if doing so might make her look older.
“You don’t happen to know where Rural Route One, box sixty-five is, do you?”
The blonde popped her gum and shrugged. “I know everybody in Perfect, but I couldn’t tell you any of their addresses. You got a name to go by?”
“Ceejay Lovejoy.”
“She’s my cousin.” Her eyebrows rose, and she appraised him with frank curiosity. “How do you know the Lovejoys? I’ve never seen you around here before. You have an accent.”
One side of Noah’s mouth quirked up. She spoke with a southern Indiana twang, and he had the accent? “I don’t know them.”
“Oh?”
He could see her working up to more questions he had no intention of answering. “Can you give me directions or a landmark?”
“Sure. Just head on down the road about three miles. You’ll see a rusty old ‘carriage house for rent’ sign right next to a black mailbox. That’s their driveway.” She placed his receipt on the counter. “You here to rent the carriage house?”
He signed the receipt without answering. Once he was back on his way, Noah lowered the window and inhaled the fresh spring air. Late May, and already the temps in southern Indiana reached the midseventies. It had still been chilly and damp when he’d left his parents’ home in Pennsylvania. He scanned the side of the two-lane highway until he found the landmark the cashier had told him learn how to cope with. t c about, a tin sign rusted around the edges of the white paint and black lettering.
He turned onto the gravel driveway, and his palms grew damp. What would he say if he found out she hadn’t kept the baby? Um, hi. Here’s ten thousand dollars and a life insurance policy worth ten times that amount. Sorry my stepbrother knocked you up, stole your money, and ran for the hills. Have a nice day.
What if she owned a gun? Worse yet, what if she knew how to use it?
The right side of the drive boasted an orchard in full bloom with three different kinds of fruit trees arranged in neat rows, all perfectly pruned with wire frames around the trunks. Mature black walnuts lined the other side, leading the way to a large limestone manor house with a screened porch on the second floor and a columned veranda on the first. A variety of flowering shrubs grew in a well-tended row in front.
The house gave every appearance of being as carefully maintained as the yard and landscaping, until he got closer. He noticed the peeling paint on the columns and window frames, the rusted-out screening, and the sagging gutters with plant life sprouting over the edges. The roof needed replacing, and he suspected the windows did too. The elegant old home had seen better days.
Beyond the house at the bottom of a long, sloping lawn flowed the Ohio River. Another copse of walnuts separated the property from yet more farm fields sprouting green. Situated as it was, the waterfront property must be worth a tidy fortune, yet the maintenance of the home had been neglected. It bothered him. Was it due to a lack of interest or a lack of funds?
Noah pulled his truck and trailer around the circular drive and parked between a neon-green Volkswagen Beetle and an old Honda Civic. He took a deep breath to shore up his nerve. Should he bring the envelope with him, or wait to see whether Ceejay still lived here?
His Google search had come up a blank, and he knew nothing about her. Once she found out about Matt’s ties to the Langford empire, she might start seeing dollar signs. Things could turn ugly. On the flip side, if Ceejay still lived here, and he told her who he was from the start, she might slam the door in his face and refuse to have anything to do with the Langfords. It was what he would do if their roles were reversed. If Matt’s child existed, he didn’t want to risk losing his chance to get to know him or her.
Wait and see won out, and he left the envelope locked in the glove compartment, eased his way out of the truck, and took the stairs leading to the front door. The moment the brass knocker connected with the wood, loud barking erupted from the backyard. The door opened to reveal a petite young woman wearing hospital scrubs with a name tag clipped on in front.
Ceejay Lovejoy regarded him with large, wide-set blue eyes. Red-gold curls framed her oval face, and a sprinkle of freckles dusted her nose and cheeks. All-American cute, in a girl-next-door kind of way. Noah’s mouth went dry.
“Oh. Hello.” She smiled up at him. “Can I help you?”
“Um, yes. My name is Noah Langford, and I...”
“Are you the guy who called about the carriage house a few days ago?” Her eyes slid over him, coming back to meet his gaze with obvious curiosity.
Was that appreciation he saw in her expression? “Uh...” Just then a small, dark-haired child inserted herself between the doorframe and the woman’s legs. She had Matt’s coloring, his brown eyes andd being messed up in the head s . His dimples.
“I can say my ABCs,” she announced.
He blinked hard and tried to catch his breath.
“Lucinda Mae, what makes you think this man is here to listen to you recite the alphabet?” Ceejay placed her hand on the little girl’s head, smoothing her curls down in a maternal gesture. The child looked up at him, then swung her gaze back to her mother.
“What makes you think he idn’t?” She stared up at him. “I’m gonna be six.”
If she was already five, then she couldn’t be Matt’s daughter. Disappointment twisted his gut. “You are?”
“Now, Luce. Don’t you remember when your cousins, uncles, and aunties all came over to celebrate your birthday?”
“I remember. I got presents.” Lucinda’s expression turned solemn.
“How many candles were on the cake?” Ceejay smiled as the little girl held up four fingers. “That’s right. You just turned four. You have to turn five before you can be six, baby.”
“But I’m gonna be six.”
Ceejay shook her head. “There’s no arguing with the logic of a four-year-old. Do you want to see the carriage house?”
“I—”
“Who’s at the door, Ceejay?” a feminine voice called from somewhere inside the house.
“It’s the folks from Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes here to deliver your check.”
Ceejay smiled and winked at him.
He lost his breath.
“I don’t know why I bother.” A woman he guessed to be in her fifties opened the door wider. She bore a strong familial resemblance to Ceejay.
“I’m going to be late for work. This is Noah Langford. He’s here about the carriage house. Can you take care of it?” Ceejay pushed her daughter toward the older woman and slipped past him as she headed down the stairs with a wave.
He caught the faint scent of something floral and soft as she swept by. She smelled good, looked good, and judging by the interaction he’d witnessed between her and Lucinda, she was a caring and competent mother. Noah watched her walk to the ancient Honda and slide in behind the wheel. She had a sweet little figure too. His stepbrother must’ve been out of his mind. How could he walk away from her knowing she carried his child?
His insides were shaky, and he leaned on his cane. Matt had never laid eyes on his precious little girl, never saw how much she resembled him. It had taken Noah all of a minute to become completely captivated. He could only imagine how his stepmother would react. He swallowed hard.
“I’m Jenny.” The older woman held Lucinda’s hand. “Hold on a sec while I get the key.”
Noah nodded. He had no place he had to be. Besides, the tour would give him time to pull himself together. Jenny returned with the key in hand and Lucinda in tow. Noah followed them around back, where the carriage house was situated. The dog, now inside the house, whined and barked as Jenny opened the gate to a small portion of the grounds that had been fenced into a small yard.
“Lucinda, why don’t you go play in your sandbox and crossed her arms in front of her. Noah c while I show Mr. Langford around.”
Nodding, Lucinda smiled u
p at him and trot-skipped away. Jenny unlocked the door to the living quarters adjoining the carriage bays.
Noah stepped inside. The faint smell of lemon cleaner wafted up around him. He was surprised to find a black walnut floor buffed to a high shine. The walls were painted a neutral cream color like so many rentals, contrasting nicely with the rich walnut. A few pieces of cheap, tattered furniture were at odds with the nineteenth-century architecture’s coved ceilings and alcoved window seats.
“The furniture can go into storage if you don’t need it,” Jenny said.
He nodded, thinking the city dump would be more appropriate. She led him into a small kitchenette. Bright color on the wall drew his eye, a framed picture of a cardinal perched on the stem of a pink flower. He was amazed to discover the piece had been done in precise, intricate beadwork. A craftsman himself, he couldn’t help admiring the piece.
“Ceejay did that.” Jenny beamed. “She sells most of what she creates, but I wanted her to keep this one. It really brightens the place up, don’t you think? The cardinal is our state bird, and the peony the state flower.”
“She’s very talented.” Noah stepped back to admire how realistic the bird looked.
“There’s a full-size bed in the bedroom and a bathroom with a shower through here.” She nodded toward a short hallway. “We have a window air-conditioner in storage for the place. Rent is five hundred per month plus utilities. We require first and last month’s rent up front.” Jenny stood by the door. “Take a look around. When you’re done, come on back to the big house.”
Noah nodded, and she disappeared. He wandered around the apartment, poking through each room. Everything was in perfect order and squeaky clean. It reminded him of the carefully tended trees and shrubs. Ceejay’s doing? He wanted to get to know her better, find out what made the mother of Matt’s daughter tick before revealing who he was. Maybe he’d get a better sense of how she might react. His mind full of questions, he headed back to the front door and knocked.
Far from Perfect (Perfect, Indiana: Book One) Page 3