Ladd Haven

by Dianne Venetta

  She wavered, shooting a quick eye to locate Fran and mumbled, “I’m here to pick up some food for home.”

  “Mind if I wait with you?”

  Casey shrugged. “Sure.” With a protective hand over her stomach, she walked over to the food counter and Fran appeared within seconds.

  Wiping her hands with a white dishcloth, she called out brightly, “Hey, sugar!”

  “Did my mom call you?” Casey asked.

  Elderly brown eyes muddied in confusion. “No, why. Something wrong?”

  “She was going to call to order dinner. I’m here to pick it up.”

  Fran’s expression burst with pleasure. “I’ll get right on it! Little fried chicken and biscuits? Some boiled peanuts for Cal?”

  “I don’t know. You might want to call her.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I get you a coke while you wait?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Water?”

  Casey didn’t appear to want anything at the moment, but reluctantly agreed. “Sure.” If only to end her great aunt’s ceaseless questions, Delaney mused, watching in amusement as Fran hurried back to the kitchen on a mission of love. Casey lowered to a stool and Delaney mirrored her movements. “So how’re you holding up?”

  “You mean the pregnancy?”

  Delaney cocked her head. “Sure.”

  “Fine,” she replied, a hesitance sliding into her blue-eyed gaze. “The baby has been moving more these days.”

  The mention pulled warm memories of Delaney’s pregnancy with Felicity. She had enjoyed being pregnant. It had been such an exciting time in her life—from the joy of anticipation, the nervous excitement, the fuss from everyone to sharing the entire experience with her mother. Susannah Ladd Wilkins had been with her every step of the way. She had gone with her to the doctor, helped her pick out clothes, bottles. She’d even been in tow for the delivery. Jack couldn’t stand hospitals, content to allow his wife to bear his child alone. Delaney’s insides cringed. She should have known then and there what she was in for, but he was the father of her baby, the man of her world, and she’d been too young to pick up on the signs.

  Peering at Casey, Delaney was struck by the faraway look in her eyes. She’d be willing to bet the girl was thinking of Troy. He was in town and Casey was probably consumed with him—as she should be. For better or worse, he would forever be a part of her life, marriage or no marriage. Lying to him about the pregnancy had been a mistake. It was only going to agitate the situation when the truth came out. “Troy came by to see me,” Delaney said, watching closely for Casey’s reaction.

  “He did?”

  Struck by the naked desire staring back at her, Delaney felt the hit. Despite her actions, Casey was clearly interested in the boy. Delaney nodded. “He was looking for a job.”

  “Oh.” Crestfallen, a shade of embarrassment colored her pale cheeks. “That’s because he quit his last one.”

  “So he said.” Did Casey know why? Had Troy told Casey what he told her? “Says he’s back in town for good.”

  “Do you believe him?” Casey asked.

  The sheer vulnerability in her voice cut Delaney’s heart in two. “Not sure.” Casey glanced away. It was clear she wanted to believe him. “Do I take it you don’t?”

  “Troy gets fired or quits everything he starts,” she mumbled, drawing circles on the counter with a finger. “I don’t see any reason to think that’s going to change.”

  A pretty harsh condemnation coming from the woman who loved him. Had she written him off completely? Had she lost her capacity to encourage and support him through the tough times? “You don’t think people can change?”

  “Do you?”

  Visions of Jack came to mind. No, not Jack. But Troy? Maybe. It was possible. When Casey didn’t respond, Delaney said, “I called his employer in Kentucky. They seemed real pleased with him.” Casey turned to her. “Mr. Foster had good things to say about him as well.”

  “But they fired him.”

  “He made a mistake.”

  “A pretty big one, don’t you think?”

  “I think we’re all fallible. I don’t think any man or woman is immune to a fall from grace. I think it’s more important to know whether or not they’re interested in picking themselves up and moving on.”

  Casey pivoted on her stool. “What are you saying? You’re going to give him a job?”

  “I sure could use a stable hand who knows his way around a horse. The hotel is booked clear through Christmas and I’m going to need hands to accommodate all the guests who will want to ride.” Thoughts of the next six months warmed her heart. Delaney couldn’t wait to share her horses with people from all over the world. The first batch of guests had been thrilled with their trail rides. Word would spread like wildfire, and she predicted her stables were going to be the hottest spot on the property!

  “He’s the best rancher there ever was,” Casey said. “Nobody knows horses better than Troy.”

  Delaney slipped into a smile. “Are you endorsing the hire?”

  Casey retreated just as quickly as she had advanced. “No, not really, but—”

  “But you think he’d be a good fit.”

  She nodded.

  “I agree. I’ve known Troy since he was a boy. He’s a good egg.”

  “You’re not worried about him drinking or quitting?”

  “I’m willing to give him the opportunity to prove otherwise.”

  Casey stilled. A light switch had been turned on, its dimmer slowly increasing the luminescent of her blue eyes. “You are?”

  “I am,” she said, deciding on the spot.

  Casey fidgeted on her stool, glanced into the kitchen as a new energy swirled about her. Visibly curbing her enthusiasm, she remained silent, as though she feared jinxing it.

  Placing a palm to the counter, Delaney relaxed into her decision. “I guess I do think people can change, at least grow and mature and find their way.” She’d done it herself over the last year. No reason why Troy couldn’t do so.

  “Thank you, Miss Delaney. I know he’ll be happy to hear it.”

  “Are you?” The blunt question sideswiped Casey, knocking the cheer from her expression. Nibbling a nail, she rubbed a hand over the high mound of her belly. In the space of an instant, Casey looked young, vulnerable. Delaney could smell the insecurity and her heart went out to her. “You need to tell him about the baby.” Casey dodged her gaze, seeking the activity in the kitchen. Delaney followed her line of vision, catching glimpse of an elusive Fran. Instinctively intuiting the conversation, she was giving them time. It was time Delaney appreciated. Moving a hand closer to Casey, she added softly, “He needs to know.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What are you afraid of? Him leaving?”

  She nodded.

  “What if he stays? What if once he knows you’re carrying his child, it gives him the motivation he needs to stay? Have you thought about that?”

  Tears pushed into her eyes. “I don’t want him to stay because of the baby.”

  Comprehension zipped Delaney tight as a drum. She wanted him to stay because of her.

  Not out of duty or obligation but because he wanted her. Of course she did. Struck by the simplicity of Casey’s desire, Delaney was surprised she had missed it.

  Chapter Eight

  Delaney leaned over and pulled the pistol from her boot, tucked it into her rear waistband, then tugged her boots off. Setting them alongside those of Nick and Felicity, she pushed through the front door of her cabin, a torrent of emotion rumbling through her. She’d hired Troy today, his first day set for tomorrow. While she felt good about the quality of the hire, she remained torn about the consequences, predominantly for Casey. If he quit, she could hire someone else. If he abandoned Casey again, it would kill her. Then there was Jack and Felicity. She’d have to talk to her, tell her she knew about Jack’s offer and counsel against it.

&n
bsp; Met by the glum faces of Nick and Felicity seated at the kitchen island, Delaney went on instant guard, their erect body language signaling a less than friendly reception. Closing the door behind her, she advanced with caution, trying to read Nick’s gaze for clues. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to have dinner at the Fosters,” Felicity announced. “Don’t try and talk me out of it either.” She flicked an accusatory glance toward Nick. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going.”

  Nick’s restrained look registered the enormity of his displeasure.

  Delaney ventured closer uncertainly. “Don’t you think we should discuss it, first?”

  “No. You’ll only try and talk me out of it.”

  “Do you know why that would be?”

  Taking her mother head on, green eyes fierce and determined, Felicity replied, “You don’t like my father and you don’t care for his family.”

  The weight of past decisions crashed onto Delaney’s shoulders. Felicity had no idea about the physical abuse, the history of Jack’s drinking, the vehement defense from his mother, Victoria Foster. The woman looked Delaney straight in the eye and accused her of lying, trying to ruin the Foster’s reputation because of quarrels from the past, ancient history regarding Delaney’s mother and Victoria’s husband, Gerald Foster. Delaney had been too stunned at the time to fight back and instead retreated. If Victoria didn’t want to have a relationship with her granddaughter because of past grievances, that had nothing to do with the child then so be it. And shame on her. Avoiding Nick’s “I told you so” gaze, Delaney focused on her daughter. Why Victoria was interested now seemed the more important question. “It’s a little more complicated than that, honey.”

  “How so?”

  Nick eased back on his stool. Seemed he wanted to hear the answer to that one, too.

  Angling her shoulder to him, she decided, fine. She’d been right in not telling her daughter about the abuse, and she was standing by the decision. There’d been no need to taint the child’s heart with the ugly details of her father—unless of course, it would have prevented her from heading into the monster’s lair all these years later. Flashing her gaze to Nick, she briefly second-guessed herself. Would telling her years ago have avoided this very scene?

  Maybe. Possibly. But it was too late. Delaney kicked into step and circled around to the opposite side of the island. The butcher-block surface was littered with grease-stained paper napkins and yellow crumbs, remnants of a half-eaten pan of cornbread. She eyed Nick. Someone must have been hungry when he came home and raided the goods. Pushing thoughts of dinner aside—and the lack of a side to accompany it—Delaney zeroed in on her daughter. At the moment, food was irrelevant. “Why do you want to go over there? Hasn’t your father proven himself over the years? Hasn’t he demonstrated his penchant for leaving, for ignoring your needs? His family never tried to see you before. Why now?” Delaney hated the picture of abandonment she was painting. It didn’t exactly foster self-esteem. But it was the truth. It was ugly, but it was the reality of her daughter’s life. Why prolong the misery by allowing the man to set fresh hooks?

  “He seems different to me.” Glancing to Nick, currently leaning over the counter on his elbows, she added, “He’s been here since Thanksgiving. He hasn’t left. Doesn’t that suggest he might actually plan to stay?”

  “And if he does?”

  “Well, he’s my father. Shouldn’t I give him a second chance?”

  Delaney’s heart twisted at the yearning staring back at her. Fine strands of strawberry-blonde hair framed her daughter’s heart-shaped face, curls that had escaped her French braid. The creamy soft T-shirt she wore underscored the delicacy of Felicity’s state of mind. Her words were tough but her eyes spoke volumes. She wanted her father to be different. She wanted him to be the father she’d never had. It broke Delaney’s heart to think about the pain that lay ahead for her.

  Nick came to life and turned to his side. “It’s like I said...not everyone deserves a second chance, Felicity.”

  “Why not?”

  Because some things are unforgiveable, Delaney rebutted silently. Because some people never change. Ignoring Nick’s reproachful gaze, she crossed her arms. Rehashing their prior conversations wasn’t going to help. “What if he hurts you?”

  “Hurts me how? It’s not like my having dinner with his parents is dangerous. They’re nice people.”

  “It’s not his parents that concern us,” Nick pitched in.

  Speak for yourself, Delaney scoffed privately.

  “It’s not like I’m going to be alone with him. I’ll drive over myself, have dinner and be done with it.” She glanced between the two. “I’m an adult now. I’ve completed a year of college away from home, and it’s time you started treating me like one.”

  “Yes, but college is different,” Delaney said, stumbling over the idiocy of her own words. Of course her daughter was an adult. Of course she could face a dinner with her grandparents on her own. It wasn’t the capability that concerned Delaney. It was the emotional consequences.

  “Next year I’ll be living in an apartment off campus. Two years after I’ll be completely on my own.”

  Translation: You have to let go at some point.

  “There’s no harm in having dinner with my grandparents,” Felicity stated, as though it were settled.

  Yes, no, there were so many things Delaney wanted to say, but the staunch conviction scoring her daughter’s tone indicated this was a hill the girl was prepared to die on. Delaney sought Nick for help. He merely arched a brow. Your move, dear. “When are you planning on going?” she asked, bracing herself for Felicity’s answer.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  The reply gutted Delaney. Unwinding her arms she objected, “So soon? Don’t you want to give yourself some time to think about it?”

  “Do you see any reason to wait?”

  Reason to wait? Delaney saw no reason to go in the first place.

  Annie dialed Delaney’s number. After the doctor’s appointment this morning, the day had been swallowed up by a packed salon, a pile of paperwork and a constant stream of worry over Casey’s pregnancy. She’d been mentally unprepared for the challenge, though to the staff’s credit, guests were accommodated beautifully. It was a heady experience dealing with foreigners, wealthy women draped in fine clothes and jewelry, exotic accents and exquisite good looks. They were nothing like the awful Jillian Devane woman, the she-devil who almost prevented this salon opportunity from becoming a reality, yet they were exactly like her. Exacting, demanding. Annie had gained an entirely different perspective dealing with the clientele of Serenity Springs versus women from a community she’d lived with and known all her life. It required more energy, more focus. Despite doing nails for almost twenty years, this salon felt new and fresh every day, requiring her to be as alert and focused as a newbie.

  The process was exhausting. Invigorating, rewarding, but exhausting—especially today. Talk about unprepared—Annie couldn’t answer the first question regarding the Ladd health history, Jeremiah’s mother or father, his grandparents. None of it!

  Delaney would know. She’d have to know more than Annie.

  Settling into a leather chair in her fancy new office, the walls painted a soothing cream and illuminated with recess lighting for a calming effect, Annie waited for Delaney to answer. With the salon closed and Cal working the front desk, she’d have all the privacy she needed. She hated to bother Delaney at this hour but she couldn’t wait another second. Notepad and pen in hand, she was ready to take notes.

  “Hello?”

  “Delaney, its Annie.”

  “I know. What’s up?”

  “Do you have a minute? I have some questions I need to ask you.”

  “Yes.” There was a pause. “Shoot.”

  Mildly put off by the detached tone, Annie asked, “Do you know anything about Jeremiah’s health history?”

  “His health history? As in, what, was he sickly?”
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  “As in, does his family have a history of heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure?”

  “What’s this about?”

  Annie heaved a sigh. Couldn’t Delaney simply answer the question? Did she always have to answer a question with a question? “Casey’s doctor wants to know.”

  “Is she all right?”

  Encouraged by the switch in tone, Annie replied, “We think so. Her blood pressure is running a bit on the high side so the doctor wants to be rule out anything more serious. My family doesn’t have any issues with blood pressure, but I have no idea about Jeremiah’s. Do you?”

  “Casey didn’t mention anything about health problems to me this afternoon. What’s going on?”

  Annie wasn’t surprised. Ever since they left the doctor’s office, Casey had detached herself from the subject, immersing herself in denial. She continually claimed she was fine and the doctor was overreacting. Truth be known, Annie understood her bigger concern was the need to involve Troy. “Casey’s downplaying the doctor’s request but I’m not. He asked and I want to give him as much information as I can.”

  “Understood,” Delaney clipped. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much help I can be. You already know that Ernie died of lung cancer.”

  “Yes, but his smoking probably contributed to that, don’t you think?”

  “Probably. Albert never smoked or chewed and he’s still kicking about. My mother died of breast cancer.”

  Okay. It was established that cancer existed in Delaney’s line. But Annie was interested in Casey’s at the moment. “What about Jeremiah’s mother? Do you know anything about her?”

  “Well, she left when he was a teenager, so I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I do remember stories about her losing a baby or two.”

  Annie shot forward in her chair, clutching the collar of her blouse. “What?”

  “During pregnancy. They weren’t born yet. She had trouble with miscarriages.”

  “Oh,” Annie gripped the edge of the desk, stricken by relief. “Casey doesn’t have that problem. She’s well into her third trimester.”