Saving Laurel Springs

by Lin Stepp

  Rhea turned to look out the window. “I don’t want to care for Carter, Nana. Surely you can understand why.”

  “I understand you got hurt in the past, but time goes on. Often we get a second chance for happiness in some areas.” She threaded her needle with white thread, knotting off the end of her thread neatly.

  Out the window, Rhea watched several ladies coming up the cabin pathway to attend Nana’s quilting demonstration. Going toward the door to open it, she gave her grandmother a defiant look. “I don’t want to be a second chance or a second choice, Nana.”

  She ushered in the arriving guests before Nana could reply. Then with a small wave of her hand, she slipped out to head toward the ad-min building at the assembly grounds to lead her Saturday morning tour.

  However, not thinking about Carter Layman proved more difficult than escaping from Nana Dean. Everywhere Rhea drove the tour tram, something reminded her of him—the new bell tower above the church; fresh pavement on the lake road; bright red canoes at the dockside replacing the battered, leaky ones; the shiny new roof on the gazebo. It wasn’t fair that Carter had accomplished all this in so short a time, become the local hero, when she’d worked and slaved so hard all these years keeping the place up, keeping everything going. And for what thanks?

  In a foul mood, Rhea strode into the ad-min building after the tour ended, planning to work on her column for next week’s newspaper. At the doorway to her office, she stopped in shock. Every surface lay covered in drop cloths, and a workman she’d never met stood on a ladder painting her walls!

  Anger flaring, Rhea stomped down the hall to her mother’s office, waiting in a fury until she saw her hang up the phone. “What is that man doing in my office, Mother?”

  Her mother lifted an eyebrow at her. “The one painting?”

  “Yes!” Rhea crossed her arms in irritation. “I don’t recall asking anyone to paint my office, and I’ll just bet this is Carter Layman’s doing. Taking charge, pushing his way in and initiating things, without even discussing the plans with anyone. Well, I’ve just about had it with him taking over and making changes around here without soliciting my opinion once. He had no right to paint my office, and choose the color, without even asking me.”

  Her mother leveled a hard glance at her. “Sit down, Rhea,” she said in that no-nonsense, authoritative voice of hers, pointing to the chair across from her desk.

  Reluctantly, Rhea slumped into the chair.

  Her mother studied her quietly, making Rhea squirm in the lengthy silence. Rhea had time to note her mother’s short salt-and-pepper hair, her mannish face with no makeup, her trim figure and tailored clothes. Rhea certainly looked more like her father.

  “I think I have suggested to you on more than one occasion that you need to learn to curb that temper of yours. I also have frequently advised you to take time to get all the facts of a matter before you fly off the handle and react.”

  She tapped a pencil on her palm, weighing her next words. “I’ve had my resentments against Carter from the past, I’ll admit, but your criticisms of him just now are unwarranted.”

  Rhea leaned forward, feeling her anger flare again. “Yet you do admit there’s a man in my office painting. Was I asked about that? Did I even get any choice in the paint color for my own office?”

  Her mother shook her head slowly. “I personally gave the order to have your office painted, Rhea—not Carter. If you recall, it was you, yourself, who complained, only this winter, that the walls in your office ‘looked nasty,’ to quote your own words. You slapped a paint chart on my desk and told me specifically that you wanted your walls painted Pacific Blue when I could find enough money for some interior paint. I recall you being in rather a snit about it, said you’d paint the office yourself and do the vestibule and the library, too, if I’d only get the paint.”

  She opened the drawer and took out the paint chart, passing it across the desk to Rhea. “If you’ll walk through the building, you’ll see that all the rooms you suggested are being repainted—and in the colors you chose. I thought you might be pleased about that, Rhea, instead of roaring in here, throwing a childish fit over it.”

  Chastised, Rhea glanced down at the paint chart, noting her paint choices and notes scrawled across it. “I’m sorry, Mother.” There was nothing else to say.

  She squirmed in her seat. “It’s just that Carter is doing so many new things around the assembly grounds, making so many changes, and I’ve had little voice in anything.”

  Her mother steepled her fingers. “Laurel Springs Assembly Grounds belongs to Grampa Layman, Wes and Mary Jane Layman, Nana Dean, and myself—as your father’s heir. Carter met with us to explain all the changes he wanted to finance, to get our approval and our input. We would have been foolish to have turned down a gift of the magnitude Carter offered us freely.”

  Lillian Dean frowned, looking toward the picture of her husband and Rhea’s father, Sam Dean, on the wall. Her voice grew quiet. “I wish Sam could have lived to see the old place come back to life as it has.” Her eyes moved to Rhea’s. “It never dawned on me you that wouldn’t be thrilled to see these renovations and changes happen.”

  She tapped the pencil into her palm again. “Many of the ongoing repairs and restorations are ones you always dreamed of and wished we could make since you were a girl.”

  “I know.” Rhea picked at her fingernails, not wanting to meet her mother’s eyes.

  “Rhea, I realize it has been difficult for you having Carter—and his young son—back here again. I know you loved him deeply and your father and I both knew you wanted to marry. Carter spoke to your father before he died, did you know that? He asked his permission to marry you.” She put the paint chart back in her desk drawer. “He did that before he ever went away to college.”

  She chuckled softly in remembrance. “Your father asked Carter if he planned to wait to marry until the two of you finished college and Carter said he’d like that to happen but he wasn’t sure he could hold out that long. It gave Sam a good laugh at a very difficult time for him.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Rhea felt a sweep of regret wash over her.

  Her mother tucked the pencil behind her ear distractedly. “I’ve long wished I’d insisted on you going out to California with Carter that fall. Sam told me he asked you to stay and help me, but he shouldn’t have done that. You had your own life to live, and we’d have managed.”

  Rhea felt tears push at the back of her eyes. She sniffed and pulled her chin up. “It isn’t your fault or Daddy’s that Carter married someone else, Mother. That was his choice.”

  Her mother shook her head. “There’s something we don’t know about all that, Rhea. I sense it. You know I’m a no-nonsense person, and not particularly intuitive, but there’s a way Carter looks when that woman’s name comes up that isn’t quite right. I’ve buried a spouse and I know some about loss and grief. I don’t know what it is—but there’s something.”

  She studied Rhea. “Have you ever talked to him about it?”

  Rhea crossed her arms and frowned. “I don’t want to talk to him about it.”

  “I see.” Her mother cleared her throat. “And I’d wager that stubborn attitude and old resentment I’m hearing lay behind your earlier outburst.”

  Rhea, annoyed, stood up, preparing to leave.

  Her mother’s eyes caught hers. “You may think, as your mother, that I don’t know much about what goes on with you or about what you’re feeling, but anyone who knows you and Carter well would have to be blind and bone dense not to feel the heat in the air when the two of you are together.”

  Rhea gasped.

  “You’d better figure out some sensible way to handle that heat, before some un-sensible moment occurs and you find yourself in way over your head. I’d like a grandchild someday, but I’d like one in the old-fashioned way, after attending your wedding.”

  Rhea tried to find words to reply to her mother but struggled over any that came to mind. Finall
y she said, “Carter and I are just friends, Mother.”

  “And pigs fly,” she replied, reaching for the phone as it started to ring and waving Rhea out of the room.

  Restless now and knowing she couldn’t work in her office, Rhea decided to walk over and help Jeannie finish cleaning out the two cabins on East Cabin Road. She probably hadn’t finished with both yet.

  Rhea cut across the meeting grounds and through the woods trail to the East Cabin Road. She found Jeannie at a cute cottage called Bluebird Stop, sweeping the front porch.

  “It figures you’d show up too late to help out.” Jeannie tossed her a saucy look.

  “You know I had the tour.” Rhea frowned at her.

  “I know. I’m just teasing. Lighten up.” She looked toward a bundle of laundry on the porch swing. “You could throw that laundry into the truck if you wouldn’t mind, though.”

  Rhea walked up on the porch, gathered the laundry into her arms, waddled down the sidewalk, and tossed the linens into the truck. She stopped with surprise as she looked across the street at a little bungalow called the Crescent Moon.

  “Doesn’t the cottage look great?” Jeannie called, seeing her pause. “The roof’s been replaced and it’s totally refinished inside and out.”

  “I see that.” Rhea stalked back up on the porch. “Who said the color could be changed and shutters put up? Was it Carter’s idea?”

  Jeannie looked at her quizzically, picking up on Rhea’s cross voice. “What’s eating you today?” She sat down on the porch swing and patted the seat beside her.

  Rhea sat down reluctantly, hoping she wasn’t in for a session with Jeannie after already dealing with Nana Dean and her mother earlier.

  Jeannie smoothed a few flyaway wisps of hair behind her ear. “Listen, Rhea. I told Carter and Billy Wade about that old picture you found of the Crescent Moon when it was first built. Remember? You found the picture in some historical book, made a copy of it, and put it in the library scrapbook at the ad-min building. You told me once it would be nice if the Crescent Moon could have shutters like in the picture again.”

  She lifted her hands expressively. “I told them I thought it would be neat to restore it to how it once looked—painted soft yellow and trimmed in black with moon wisps cut out on each shutter. Carter paid one of the carpenters extra to make the shutters. We thought you’d love it.”

  Rhea felt a flush of embarrassment rise in her cheeks.

  Jeannie gave her a questioning look. “Don’t you like it? It was your idea, after all.” She blew out a breath. “I hope you’re not mad at me for telling Billy and Carter about it.”

  “No.” Rhea pushed the swing into motion for something distracting to do. “I just forgot—that’s all.” She tried to smile. “It looks nice, Jeannie.”

  Smiling back, Jeannie changed the subject in her usual way. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Rhea answered, glad to move to a new topic.

  Jeannie patted her stomach. “Billy Wade and I are going to have another baby.”

  Rhea’s eyes flew to Jeannie’s in surprise. “Really?”

  “Really. I found out yesterday.” She rubbed her tummy affectionately. “I hope it’s going to be a little girl this time.”

  Rhea looked toward the truck in alarm, thinking of the big load of laundry she’d just thrown into the back. “I don’t want you doing heavy lifting or too much work around here for a while.”

  “I won’t be—and neither will you. Carter found two women to clean the cabins now instead of us. Whoopee!” She punched a fist in the air. “Won’t that be sweet?”

  Rhea bit back the reply that tried to rise up.

  Not noticing Rhea’s change of mood, Jeannie babbled on. “Those two Barker sisters that live near Caton’s Grove were tickled to get the job. They’ve been cleaning houses here and there, trying to make ends meet, so this steady job is a godsend to them. Estelle says they’re hard workers, real good Christian women, and that we’re lucky to get them. Isn’t that great?”

  Jeannie glanced at her watch suddenly and stopped the swing’s motion with her foot. “Oops. Sorry to rush off, Rhea, but I’ve got to go to cheerleader practice with the girls.”

  Rhea looked at her in alarm. “Is it still safe for you to do that?”

  Jeannie laughed as she stood up, grabbing the broom to carry to the truck. “Don’t worry so much. You’re as bad as Billy Wade.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not going to do any handstands or splits or anything—just supervise.”

  “Okay.” Rhea stood to hug Jeannie good-bye and felt an odd discontent slice through her. Everything was changing. Even Jeannie. Something hurt deep inside Rhea to think of the sweet new life growing inside her friend.

  Watching Jeannie drive away, Rhea tried to decide what to do with the rest of the day. Nothing she considered held any appeal—and she felt no desire for more company after the morning’s events.

  Her mind still rolled with the words of her mother, her grandmother—and the words Carter said to her last night in such an anguished tone. What do you want of me, Rhea Dean?

  The question turning in her mind, Rhea decided to go to the old Costner ruins to think. She knew she could sit there against the old stone fireplace, quiet and alone for an hour or so, and collect her thoughts.

  The long walk around the lake, through the old Gilliland property, and across the woods trail on Low Ridge, did Rhea good, but she stopped in shock as she rounded the corner at the Costner cabin site.

  The ruins were gone! Trees had been cleared, and the beginnings of a new house sat on the old cabin site, a winding paved drive leading up to it.

  Rhea walked closer to study the place. The two-storied home was completely framed, the roof on, the windows and doors in place. Her heart ached as she took in the details. She knew immediately it was Carter’s new house. Hadn’t he mentioned he might be building here? Rhea sighed. Now that she thought about it, she knew she’d heard Billy Wade talking about the house and she’d occasionally seen construction trucks heading in this direction when she was on the west end of the assembly grounds. This was Layman property, after all. It had always been Carter’s dream to build here. And hers. Which was probably why she’d tried not to think about a house going up on this spot.

  She sat down on the front steps and started to cry. Between the events of last night and today, this was simply the last straw.

  Engulfed with confusion and regrets, Rhea dropped her head into her hands and sobbed.

  CHAPTER 16

  Carter heard Rhea before he saw her. He’d been behind the old Gilliland place, checking repairs at the vandalized springhouse, and he’d shamelessly trailed Rhea across the ridge, keeping at a distance behind her, unseen. He thought she might be going to Rocky Knob. He planned to follow her there—so they could talk more about what happened last night. With surprise, he saw her head across the ridge toward his new house.

  Rhea never wept easily, and Carter knew something was wrong for her to be sobbing audibly like this. He crept up and sat quietly beside her on the rough porch steps before she sensed his presence.

  She glanced at him in annoyance and sniffed. “Great. Just what I needed after everything else today.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.” He tried to get her to grin.

  She shook her head and looked away. “I’d really like some time by myself right now, Carter.”

  “Five good reasons why first.” It was an old game they used to play. “Then I’ll leave.”

  A cloud crossed her face. “Oh, all right. You asked for it.” She gave him a stubborn and irritated frown. “One, Nana Dean says it’s obvious something is going on between us. Two, my mother practically agreed with her—which humiliated me, coming from her.”

  She swept a hand toward the assembly grounds below. “Three, everywhere I look you’re changing things at Laurel Springs, and even though that’s good, it’s hard to deal with—since I’m having so little say in it and that hurts somehow.” Rhea sucked in
a shaky breath.

  “Four, Jeannie is having another baby, and I entertained a pitiable fit of personal jealousy when I heard the news today. I’m not getting any younger, you know.” She raised her chin. “And, five, when I come up to the old ruins to enjoy some time alone, I find a new house springing up here, as well.” She shook her head and gave him a defiant look. “So, it’s just been one of those days, Carter.”

  She scooted farther away from him. “So, now would you leave?”

  Carter shook his head in amazement. Rhea, normally a secretive person who kept her feelings close to her heart, had just dumped a major load of revelations on him. “Wow.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to digest it all. “I don’t think I can leave after that.”

  She glared at him. “I played by the rules. Just like in Truth or Dare.”

  “You did,” he acknowledged, still not budging from his spot on the porch steps.

  He sat quietly beside her, thinking over her words while looking across the panoramic view of Laurel Springs spread below him. He’d missed the place so much and never tired of sitting, just like this, to look out over the land, green with summer. His eyes wandered across the lake, sparkling in the sun, and down the quiet roadways, winding in pretty curves through the property—all so loved, familiar, and dear.

  Rhea, growing impatient with his silence, cleared her throat. “I thought you were leaving,” she said pointedly.

  Carter turned to look at her. “I’ll give you five good reasons why I can’t leave.” He held up a hand to count off the points. “One, Nana Dean and your mother are right; I do think people are starting to suspect something is going on between us. People aren’t blind, you know. Two, I haven’t talked with you as much as I should about all the changes. I wanted to, but you’ve been so prickly with me I wasn’t sure how to handle it.” He swallowed. “Three, I kept hoping when you saw me making the changes you and I always dreamed of doing at Laurel Springs, that you’d soften toward me a little.”