“There’s the phone. It’s probably Hardy again. Tell him I’m coming.”
“Birdie will get it. I wasn’t finished talking to you. Louemma is really moping again. She’s been in tears most of the afternoon. I’m afraid she overheard me catching Birdie up to date on the hearing. Louemma has it in her head that Laurel’s going to leave Ridge City.”
Alan glanced out the foyer, down the hall, and seeing it clear, lowered his voice. “That’s not altogether impossible. Laurel feels quite uncomfortable over how this whole deal was handled. And I can’t say I blame her. You can tell Louemma, or I will, that I’ll do everything in my power to convince Laurel to stay. But it’ll take time. I’m obviously going to have to win back her trust.”
“I have every confidence in you, Alan.”
Birdie eased her head around the corner. “Mr. Alan, I didn’t hear you come in. I just finished telling that pushy Hardy Duff to stop calling here. I said you’d go see him the minute you got in. So you’d better scat.”
“I’m gone.” Alan jerked open the door.
THE NEXT TIME Alan saw Laurel, he was walking Louemma to the loom cottage for her lesson. As usual, Dog raced up to his friend, cavorting like a pup. Yet he was always careful around her, as though he recognized the child’s fragility.
Laurel smiled, watching those two resume a routine that had been interrupted. “Dog’s missed her,” she remarked to Alan. “So have I. Would you consider letting her stay for dinner?”
“Used to be we both stayed,” he said casually.
“I know, but this invitation is strictly for Louemma.”
Alan considered for a moment, rocking back on his heels. He looked downcast, but said, “Sure, it’ll be good for her. Grandmother says Louemma’s been moping all week.”
“I meant to ask you something. At our last class, Louemma said her tutor took vacation during July, August and part of September. I thought she and I could plan another sleepover Labor Day weekend. Would it be okay? I’ll rent some kid-appropriate DVDs. I also bought an ice-cream maker I’m dying to try.”
“Ask her,” he said slowly, not admitting he felt left out. “If she’s in favor of it, then I guess it’s okay. This is our busy time at work, so we rarely get to town for the Labor Day parade. I don’t know how she’d do being jostled along a parade route, anyhow.”
“Really? You’ll let me stay here again?” the girl squealed. “Does that mean you aren’t moving, Laurel?”
She shot Alan a veiled glance.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m not the one who’s been talking out of turn. Louemma eavesdropped on Vestal and Birdie.”
“I said I was sorry, Daddy. But nobody ever tells me anything. I don’t want you to go away, Laurel. Neither does Daddy. Isn’t that right?”
“Laurel knows what I want, honeybee.”
Laurel dragged Alan out the door. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to involve Louemma in arguments that are just between us,” she hissed.
“That’s the heck of it, Laurel. I’m not arguing. I want us to forget the past and start over. Is that so hard?”
“It might be easier if bulldozers weren’t ripping off the top of Bell Hill. That’s another thing, Alan. On top of everything else, I think those reports you lent me lied about the damage being wreaked on the ecosystem. Judging by the racket, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you been up to see what they’ve done?”
“No, I’ve been busy. I know Bentley promised low impact on the pines and hardwoods. The plans call for minimal slash and burn to carve out a narrow track for the canal. Right now, they’re cutting trees for a path to move in some equipment. That probably accounts for the noise.”
She gave him a skeptical glance. “I haven’t actually ridden all the way to the top yet. I plan to this weekend.”
“Do. Call on my cell—let me know what you find, I’d go with you, but Monday is Louemma’s follow-up appointment with the neuropsychologist at the children’s hospital in Charleston. We’ll fly to South Carolina Saturday and get back sometime on Monday afternoon.”
“I hope the doctor is pleasantly surprised by Louemma’s progress.”
“You could go with us. Dr. Duval would probably like to ask you questions.”
“If he has questions, he’s free to phone, fax or e-mail me. Do you still have one of my business cards?”
“She, and I’ll give it to her. I knew this information age we live in was no damn good.”
“It’s very good. Dennis’s counselor said he should e-mail me rather than phone so often, so I purchased a used computer. Not only are his communiquées getting further apart, but the last one indicated he’s discovering through therapy that he was much too dependent on me. He stopped just short of saying we’d have to break off totally if he hopes to fully recover. In my reply, I tried to reinforce that idea.” She gave a self-satisfied smile.
Alan cocked his head to one side. “If you think I’ll discourage as easily as that, forget it. I liked what we had together. I miss you, and I’m not giving up on us.”
“I’m still not comfortable accepting the cottages from you, Alan. But I will—and thank you. Don’t misunderstand me, though. We can’t turn back the clock….”
Laurel missed him, too. A lot more than she’d expected. She didn’t say so because…she couldn’t. Deep down, though, she knew the truth.
They settled on a time for him to collect Louemma, and then he left. Once, Laurel would have stood in the open door, watching him walk to his Jeep; now she returned immediately to her seat in front of the big loom.
Louemma had a fabulous day. From the moment Laurel introduced the prospect of another sleepover, the girl reverted to her former cheery self.
At home, later, Vestal noticed immediately. But as Windridge truly had entered its busiest season, a time when a deluge of new orders came in and had to be entered into the system, Alan was putting in long hours. As a result, Vestal and Birdie began shuttling Louemma back and forth to Laurel’s. At Laurel’s suggestion, the two lessons had become three.
It wasn’t until a full week had passed that Alan realized Vestal had authorized letting Louemma eat practically every evening meal at Laurel’s.
Wednesday, midway through a wetter-than-normal week, Alan rolled in well after dark. He wasn’t surprised to see that Vestal had already retired. He slipped in to check on Louemma, but she wasn’t in her bed. Alan could only surmise that she’d stayed at Laurel’s after today’s lesson.
This was beginning to resemble the year prior to Louemma’s accident. Emily had had no compunction about tossing their daughter and a couple of suitcases in her car and heading off to spend several days with her horsey friends near Louisville. At first she wrote him notes; later, she didn’t bother. He saw that Vestal hadn’t left him a note tonight. And come to think of it, Laurel hadn’t left a message letting him know what she’d found at the construction site. That must mean everything met with her approval, but damn, he would’ve liked to hear her voice.
Tired, hungry and out of sorts, Alan rummaged in the fridge, hunting for something to quell the acid running in his stomach.
He heard a car pull in next to the house and thought he’d been mistaken about his grandmother’s whereabouts. Maybe she, Birdie and Louemma had gone to a movie in town, as they did on rare occasions.
Birdie entered the house through the kitchen. “Lordy, Mr. Alan, you near scared me to death. What are you doing lurking about at this hour? Are you the one who made muddy tracks all over my clean floor?”
“I just got in, Birdie. Sorry about the tracks.” Alan shucked off his boots. “I probably tracked all down the hall and into Louemma’s room, too,” he added. “Let me toss a sandwich together and wolf it down. Then I’ll clean up.”
“You will not. A man comes home looking like he’s been rode hard and put up wet, he don’t need to be scrubbing floors. In fact, why don’t you go clean up? I’ll fix you some buckwheat
pancakes, and a couple of eggs and warm a slice of ham from last night’s dinner. Another dinner you missed,” she said pointedly.
“Birdie, you know what I said when you agreed to live in after Emily died. Your priorities are looking after Louemma and Vestal. If I’m home to eat, okay. Otherwise I’ll fend for myself.”
The housekeeper crossed her plump arms. “I said then that isn’t any way to live. I stand by my words. Jus’ you go take your muddy self off to shower.” Spinning, she dragged out the old griddle she used for pancakes. “I thought you only did the accounting for Windridge. How come you look like a stevedore lately?”
“It’s time to pay the second installment on our building job. Between rainstorms I went out to find Bentley’s foreman and have him sign off on their progress to date. Luckily, I met him partway up the hill from the warehouse. It’s a mess out there.”
“I guess. Miss Laurel, she thinks they’re scraping away too much vegetation. When Miss Vestal and I delivered Louemma today, Miss Laurel showed us some of the debris she’s pulled from the creek. Talk about mud. Whoee! Miss Vestal said that creek used to be so clear and cold you could drink from it. Today, there was nothing but mud pies.”
Alan’s expression soured. “If Laurel has a problem, tell her to call me.”
“I don’t blame her none, Alan. Inside her loom cottage, the dozers sound like they’re comin’ through her back wall.”
“Jeez, they’re two miles away.” He paused as he pulled off his boots. “Do you know why Louemma’s spending the night at Laurel’s?”
“You want the truth?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Alan said, wearily straightening from having set his boots on the back porch.
“Part of the truth might not set well.”
“Is this a ploy to get me to cave in to Louemma’s request for a dog? I heard nothing except that during our whole trip to Charleston. Birdie, she’s not able to take care of a pet. I don’t think it’s fair to slough it off on you or Vestal. And I’m too busy right now to even think of training a pup. Besides, after her exam, Dr. Duval suggested the promise of a dog at a later date might be incentive for Louemma to progress faster. While she agrees there’s some improvement, the doctor maintains the latest tests show absolutely no nerve damage.”
“I wasn’t going to mention the dog. Although, now that you’ve brought up how little you’ve been home… That’s what I intended to say. Louemma likes it at Miss Laurel’s because she’s there. And she’s young. They do fun stuff, not just weaving. They talk about books, clothes, hairstyles. Things little girls do with their mothers.”
“Laurel isn’t Louemma’s mother, nor is she ever likely to be,” Alan stated. “Louemma was so full of talk about Laurel, Dr. Duval cautioned me about letting her get too attached. If there’s a possibility it might end in disappointment, she told me, we should be very careful. She did say the weaving appears to be helping. So lessons are fine. But I think all other activities should stop. In fact, whoever picks up Louemma in the morning needs to tell Laurel that.”
“Uh-uh. Not me. I’m not gonna break Louemma’s heart.”
“Birdie, I don’t want to, either. That’s why this can’t go on. We’re setting Louemma up for heartbreak.” He sighed. “I’ll go fetch her myself and I’ll explain to Laurel.”
“Just like that? That’s not going to go over big with Louemma.”
“Tough.”
“I know you don’t have to take my advice, Mr. Alan, but you might want to consider not ending their good times so abruptly.”
“That’s how Laurel ended our relationship,” he muttered.
“I wouldn’t know about that. I do know Miss Louemma is really looking forward to something she and Miss Laurel have planned for this weekend. The other day they collected leaves. Saturday, Miss Laurel’s gonna paint heads, arms and legs on construction paper, and Miss Louemma gets to glue on leaf bodies. Plus, your grandmother bought them a junior Scrabble game. She smiled, “We all agreed Rose is going to be so shocked at how good Miss Louemma has learned to spell when she sees her again for tutoring.”
“All right. I’ll let them have this weekend. But I’ll still go over there in the morning and tell Laurel.”
LAUREL WAS SURPRISED to see Alan striding across her footbridge. She hadn’t seen him in three weeks. Not seeing him had left a dull ache in her chest. But this sudden appearance was worse. She missed him terribly. Missed their walks. Their shared laughter. And dammit, she missed him in her bed. But apparently he’d moved on.
“Daddy! I didn’t know you were coming. Guess what! Laurel and I made fresh strawberry sundaes last night. They were so yummy. I wish you could have had one. Can you come for one next time?”
Louemma’s happy laughter affected Alan as nothing else could. Forgetting why he was there, he spanned her waist with his hands and lifted her up for a hug. He swung her around twice. “Gosh, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you, sweet pea. I need a minute to talk to Laurel alone. Let Dog walk you to the Jeep. I’ll bring your suitcase and be there before you can say Jack Robinson.”
Louemma giggled and called Dog. “That’s not true, Daddy. I can say Jack Robinson a hundred times before you get to the Jeep, I bet.”
“No way. Let’s see.”
The minute the girl and dog were out of earshot, Laurel said, “Are you here to make excuses for the mess your workers are making of Bell Hill?”
“No. Some mess is inevitable. I trust Mountain Builders.”
“I don’t. I don’t know why they have to cut down so many of the big trees.”
“Dave Bentley hires local men. They have respect for our environment.”
“Like hell. Last week…”
Alan cut her off. “We can’t seem to communicate on any level anymore, Laurel. I’m here because after this weekend with Louemma, I want everything to stop but her lessons. No more dinners. No sleepovers.”
“Why?” Laurel’s face fell.
“She’s…getting too attached. The psychiatrist thinks so, as well,” he said lamely.
“What? That’s not true. Louemma said the doctor in Charleston was happy with her progress.”
“I’m not going to argue. She spends more time here than at home. I refuse to compete for my child’s affections. I’d end things today, but Birdie says you two have already made plans for the weekend. If you’d rather cancel that, I’ll break the news to her.” He should probably explain how Emily had manipulated Louemma to divide her love—just so Laurel wouldn’t have that stricken look in her eyes. But, he reminded himself, Laurel didn’t care about his feelings. He didn’t owe her any explanation.
“No. No,” she said, her voice strained and close to breaking. “She’s so excited about making the leaf people we found in a craft book. She has her heart set on it, Alan. I’m afraid I don’t understand what I’ve done. I love Louemma dearly. But…if her doctor said—how can I object?”
“That’s right.” Feeling lower than the lowest weasel, Alan left.
Laurel followed his progress, thinking her heart couldn’t break again. But it did. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she had to rub them away. She’d always managed to piece her life back together—but maybe not anymore. Since Laurel had never truly believed that Alan was like the other men who’d hurt her, she’d actually started to hope that time might heal their rift. It seemed time had run out.
Seeing Louemma smiling happily at her from the Jeep window made her tears run faster.
Chapter Fourteen
ALAN DID A POOR JOB of giving Louemma reasons for putting an end to her extra outings at Laurel’s.
“I don’t care what that old doctor thinks, Daddy! I want things to be how they used to be when you liked Laurel.”
“Honey, I do like Laurel.”
Louemma withdrew and simply stopped talking to her father. By Friday, no one in the house said a civil word to him. To make matters worse, the weather had turned really ugly. A hurricane slammed into South Carol
ina. Instead of swinging out into the Atlantic as most did once they hit land, this one blew straight through a corner of Tennessee. Now, according to news reports, it was Kentucky’s turn to batten down the hatches.
To avoid the flak he was getting at home, Alan worked diligently at the distillery computer all morning. At one o’clock he decided he needed a break. “Hardy, I’m going to run home and grab a snack. Can I bring you back a sandwich?” Alan asked the man, who’d just come into the room, peeling off a rain slicker.
“Great. Thanks,” Hardy said. “MacGregor called,” he announced. “He let his crew knock off early. Mac says they can’t pour concrete in the mud hole developing up the hill. I’m not a happy camper. All we need is another delay. If you hadn’t let that Ashline broad screw around for so long, Mac’s crew would’ve already poured the canal. We need those pipes connected to our tanks. Even with Mac’s shortcuts, we’re looking at mid-October.”
Snapping off the computer, Alan stood and faced his manager. “Don’t start harping about Laurel again. That’s over and done with. We can hardly control what the weather does. I’m wondering about the condition of our backup generators. How long since we had them serviced?”
“A year. Maybe fifteen months. We haven’t needed them.”
Alan turned up the droning radio he had on. “If this storm—Josie, they’re calling it—doesn’t peter out soon, we may need them.”
“Takes two people to fire ’em up for a test. You got time to help me?”
“Let me run home first and talk Louemma out of going to Laurel’s for the weekend. I gave her permission, but with the weather as bad it is, I’d rather she stayed home. They can pick another weekend to do their leaf people.”
“You can’t just phone the kid?”
“It’s complicated, Hardy, but no. Louemma’s mad at me.”
“Okay. Maybe we should let our workers who have a ways to drive leave now. Rain’s coming down in buckets out there.”
“Sure. Dismiss everyone. Between you and me, we can keep tabs on the gauges. You can bunk at our house tonight if this storm socks in like the weather reports are predicting. Of course, it could still blow itself out as most of them do.”
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