Last Chance Family

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Last Chance Family Page 5

by Hope Ramsay


  The cat meowed loudly and poked her head up. She gave Mike a demonic stare out of her half-closed eyes. He really didn’t like that cat.

  Elsie didn’t seem at all perturbed by the cat’s behavior. She continued to give it lots of pets and scratches. “I understand completely,” she said. “As it happens, Pastor Tim doesn’t have any girlfriends. And the Altar Guild is a little concerned about that. We all thought that he might marry Jenny Carpenter, but that didn’t work out. And recently he’s been so busy with various church issues that he doesn’t have much time for a social life.”

  “I see.”

  She and Tigger leaned in, conspiratorially. “I think we should work on matching him up with Sabina Grey.”

  “Sabina? Who’s she?”

  “She and her sister, Lucy, own the antiques mall in town. Sabina is cute as a button. And she’s a regular member of the Altar Guild.”

  “I guess I’ll have to stop by the mall and check her out.”

  “You do that. And, honey, the Altar Guild has discussed this situation at length, and we are all in agreement that you are telling the truth. We don’t see any reason why you’d be trying to pull the wool over Pastor Tim’s eyes. This has got to be a real shock for him, discovering he’s got a brother and sister and a niece.”

  “I guess it is. But he’s the lucky one, Elsie. He’s the one who got out of a bad situation and into a good family.”

  Elsie nodded. “I understand entirely.” She stopped scratching Tigger long enough to reach out and pat his hand. Maybe it was his imagination, but he got the distinct impression that the cat was not pleased by this.

  “And I just want to let you know,” Elsie said, “that we’re all here to help you in any way we can. We’d like to see Pastor Tim adopt Rainbow. And we all believe this situation might be just what we need to get him into a matrimonial frame of mind, if you know what I mean.”

  That’s the moment when the cat decided she’d had enough of Elsie. She jumped off the woman’s lap, but not before she sank her sharp little claws into her thigh.

  “Ouch!” Elsie gave the cat a black look.

  “I told you. She’s possessed.”

  “Yeah, with really sharp claws.”

  The cat turned and walked out of the room in a truly regal fashion, her tail held high.

  “Sorry about that,” Mike said.

  “Oh, honey, it’s okay. You warned me. And besides, cats can be funny sometimes,” she said.

  Elsie’s cell phone rang. “Hang on a minute, Mike.” She pushed the talk button and listened to the voice on the other end. It didn’t take a poker player to read her face. Her complexion paled, and the corners of her mouth turned down. Within thirty seconds, Mike knew that the caller had conveyed bad news.

  Elsie said a few words, then ended the call. “Mike, I gotta go. That was Ruthie Clatcher on the phone. I’m afraid her daddy, Ralph, died this morning. It’s not entirely unexpected, since he was about ninety years old, but I need to get going on another cake and probably a casserole.”

  “Uh, Elsie, I love your cake, but if you need to take some of it over to Ralph’s family, that would be fine by me. It’s delicious. The best coconut cake I’ve ever tasted. But it’s just me and Rainbow here, and the kid doesn’t eat anything but pizza.”

  “Really? Not even sweets?”

  He nodded. “I can’t get anything but pizza down her throat. She’s very picky.”

  “Oh, bless her heart.”

  “There’s no way I could eat all this cake.”

  “You’re a good man, Mike. Thanks. I’m sure Ruthie won’t mind a bit that there’s a slice missing.”

  Tim wanted to remember his childhood. But his earliest memory of his dad had to be when he was five or six, out on Lake Lanier fishing from the back of a pontoon boat. Try as hard as he might, Tim couldn’t go back any further in time.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t ask his father for the truth. Dad had died a year ago. So last night, Tim had pulled down the box of stuff he’d kept after Dad’s death. He’d gone through everything in that box looking for answers. But he found none—only more questions.

  The family photo albums contained no photos of him before the age of three. And none of him with Mother until he looked to be about four or five.

  Why was that? And why hadn’t he ever been curious about the fact that all his baby photos seemed to be missing? Those missing photos suggested that Mike’s story was true.

  If Mike had told the truth, then Dad had lied. And that rocked Tim’s world. Dad had been one of the most honest people Tim had ever known. Colin Lake had been a man of great faith. A deacon in his church. An exemplary neighbor, husband, and father. How could he have kept such a monumental thing from Tim?

  Tim wanted the truth. And yet he feared it. Perhaps that explained why he hadn’t called Eugene Hanks to ask his advice about a private investigator. He had also procrastinated when it came to calling Mike, even though he needed to have a face-to-face conversation with him about arrangements for the little girl.

  His cell phone rang as he brooded over these conflicting desires. He checked the caller ID: Elsie Campbell.

  He didn’t want to deal with the chair of the Altar Guild right at this moment. He could never predict what Elsie wanted when she called. It could be important or it could be nonsense. But he’d learned the hard way that he ignored her calls at his peril.

  He pressed the talk button. “What’s up, Elsie?”

  “Ralph Clatcher has died. Ruthie needs you as quickly as possible.”

  It came as no surprise that Elsie knew about the old man’s demise before Tim. Elsie was almost always the first to know anything.

  This death, tragic as it was, gave him a reason to put off making any hard decisions. He needed to get over to Ralph’s daughter’s house and spend a little time with Ruthie, who had been taking care of her aged father for quite a long time. Which meant he’d have to cut short that face-to-face meeting with Mike he’d been dreading.

  He finished his conversation with Elsie and then called Ruthie Clatcher to express his condolences and let her know that he would be there soon. Ruthie told him that the casserole brigade had already started to convene at her house, so that gave him a little wiggle room. Ruthie wasn’t alone, and Martha Spalding’s apartment at Edisto Pines was on the way to Ruthie’s house.

  Fifteen minutes later, Tim knocked on the condo’s door. Mike answered a moment later, looking frazzled. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, and he conveyed a sense of utter exhaustion. Concern tugged at Tim.

  “So how’s it going?” he asked.

  “Okay, I guess.” Mike didn’t sound entirely sure of himself. “So, did you check out my story?”

  “No, not yet. You’ve only been here twenty-four hours, and I’ve been very busy. How’s the child?”

  “Too busy?” Mike’s forehead wrinkled. “A person who claims to be your long-lost brother shows up and you’re too busy to check out his story?”

  Tim’s ears burned. He deserved Mike’s frustration. He should have called Eugene first thing this morning.

  He took a deep, calming breath and walked past Mike into the living room of Martha Spalding’s condo with its lace doilies and café curtains. Mike Taggart belonged in this space like a gigolo at a ladies’ sewing circle.

  “I’m sorry about the decor of this place. Martha Spalding is about seventy years old.”

  “I figured.”

  “So where’s Rainbow?”

  “In the bedroom. With her cat.”

  “I guess I probably should keep my distance then.” Tim sat down on the old-lady sofa and immediately sneezed. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and sneezed three more times.

  “Wait a sec. I forgot,” Mike said. “You had asthma as a kid. Really bad asthma. I remember one time when Daddy and I had to take you to the hospital. I think the asthma had something to do with Daddy leaving.”

  Mike’s words touched something dim and distant, li
ke the echo of a memory. Tim remembered being taken to a hospital. He’d been very young and scared to death. Dad had been there with him, steady and calm as always. Was there someone else in the car that night? Maybe.

  “You’re right about the asthma,” Tim said. “And if it turns out that what you’ve said is true, then we’re going to have to find another home for the cat. I can’t have a cat in my house.”

  Mike sank down onto the ottoman, a picture of exhaustion. “Tim, I don’t think you understand. Rainbow pitched a full-on tantrum this morning when I told her she couldn’t take Tigger shopping with her. Separating her from the cat is going to be traumatic.”

  “It’s got to be done.”

  “Right now?”

  “I’m going to check out your story, but right now I’ve decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. Which means that Rainbow will eventually come to live with me. She can’t bring her cat. And the sooner we begin to wean her from this dependency the better.”

  “It ain’t gonna be easy. Get ready for some very bad behavior.”

  “Then I think this is an issue we need to take up with Andrea Newsome. She’s the child therapist I told you about yesterday. She has an office in Allenberg. Not too far away. I made an appointment for Rainbow for tomorrow at three p.m. I thought I could drive her there.”

  Mike pressed his lips together as if this news annoyed him.

  “Unless you want to drive her,” Tim said. “I just thought that driving her to her appointment would be a good way for us to spend time together, without the cat.”

  Mike nodded his head. “All right, Timmy. I can see the logic in that.”

  Timmy again? How odd to be called that name. He scrutinized Mike for a long moment. Mike’s shoulders slumped, and that emotionless mask he’d worn yesterday seemed a little worse for wear. He didn’t look like a trustworthy person right at the moment.

  Tim looked down at his hands, torn by conflicting emotions and fears. What if this guy was playing him for a fool?

  There was only one way to determine that. He needed to call an investigator. And he needed to get a grip. “Look, Mike, I’m going to hire a private investigator to have your story checked out. But in the meantime, I want the little girl to be cared for. And I thought it might help if you enrolled her in the church’s Bible camp. It starts on Monday. And with her at church, I could spend time with her, and you wouldn’t be here babysitting her all the time. You could get some work done. And she could spend some time away from the cat.” Tim looked up as he finished his speech. His eyes burned, and he could hardly breathe. But maybe the tightness in his chest had nothing to do with cat dander. Maybe it had everything to do with the fact that he might finally have a brother.

  Mike leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees and studied Tim’s face. “Thanks for setting up the counseling for Rainbow. I’ll help pay the cost. She needs some help, that’s for sure.”

  “All right, I’m glad we agree,” Tim said. “I’ll be by tomorrow around three o’clock to pick her up.” He blew his nose and wiped his eyes as he stood up. “I wish I could stay a little longer, but I’m having a crazy day today. Ruthie Clatcher just lost her father, and I have to run down to her house to meet with the family.”

  “I’ve already heard about Mr. Clatcher.”

  “You did? Really?”

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, Elsie Campbell came by with a coconut cake, and she got the phone call while she was here. You’ll be pleased to know I sent the uneaten portion of my cake off to the bereaved.”

  “Elsie was here?” Uh-oh, that had big trouble written all over it.

  “Timmy,” Mike said, the corner of his mouth sliding upward in a half smile, “the members of your altar guild are trying to find you the perfect wife. I gather someone named Sabina Grey is at the top of their list. I hope you understand why I’m planning to check her out. If there’s a woman in your life, I need to know about it. I mean, whoever she is will become Rainbow’s mom. And I hope you can understand why I want Rainbow to have the best mom in the world.”

  Tim squeezed his eyes shut. They were burning like nobody’s business. He needed to get going, but not before he discouraged Mike from joining forces with the Altar Guild. “Ah, look, Mike, you don’t really understand how things work in this town. Those women can stir up trouble. Big trouble. I’ve seen them do it on several occasions. So it’s best to stay clear of them, okay? Before you get all caught up in their machinations.”

  “So you’re saying you like being a bachelor?”

  “Well, no, actually. I would like to settle down someday with the right woman. But I am not about to let the Altar Guild find her for me.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  Charlene usually spent Thursday in her car, traveling from one farm to another, checking up on the large animals in her practice. She loved these days. Caring for dogs and cats (and the occasional ferret) was fine, but she had landed her job with Creature Comforts because she’d specialized in large-animal care—a choice that Mother and Daddy never quite understood, seeing as she hadn’t been raised on a farm.

  But she had gone a little horse-mad when she’d been a teen and spent a lot of time in stables learning about the care and feeding of horses. In those days, she had to travel thirty miles to find a good stable with riding horses. But Dash Randall had changed all that when he’d started breeding American Paints right in Last Chance.

  So she loved Thursdays, when she made her field rounds. She made a point of stopping by Painted Corner Stables every week to check up on the horses in Dash’s care. She would check in with Walter Taylor, Dash’s trainer, and nip any medical problems in the bud. She always made Dash’s place the last stop. And sometimes, if she got there early enough, Walter would saddle up one of Dash’s horses, and she’d take a little ride.

  But not today. She had a million things to do today, and first on her list was stopping by the Last Chance Around antiques mall to pick up Daddy’s birthday present—a 1927 hard rubber Waterman fountain pen that Sabina Grey had scored at an auction. Daddy would love it. He collected pens.

  She pulled her pickup into a parking spot right in front of the mall, which had at one time been a Woolworth five-and-dime. About a year ago, Sabina and her sister, Lucy, managed to find an old F.W. Woolworth sign dating back to the 1950s. They had restored it and affixed it above the awning where the original sign had been. But instead of cheap, plastic merchandise in the front windows, the girls displayed antiques and vintage finds. Inside, the store had been gutted and partitioned into stalls for about thirty independent merchants. The place was crammed full of stuff, running the gamut from art deco jewelry to midcentury modern lamps and tables. You could also find some pretty weird stuff at Last Chance Around Antiques, like the collection of Dating Game lunchboxes that Sally McCrea sold in her stall.

  She didn’t expect to run into Mike Taggart at the antiques mall. But there he stood leaning a hip into the front cash counter talking with Sabina Grey, flaunting his oh-so-sexy laugh lines. His eyes seemed to have an unusual spark in them today. And by the look in Sabina’s eyes, she was enjoying every minute of the conversation.

  And who wouldn’t? Mike Taggart looked like a candidate for People magazine’s sexiest man alive issue. He had just the right amount of fiery stubble. Just the right amount of swagger. Just the right bad boy gleam in his eyes.

  Yup. He was the kind of guy who would never, in a million years, meet with Mother and Daddy’s approval. Which immediately made him irresistible.

  Thank God, Charlene had moved past her rebellious stage. She’d learned her lesson about guys like Mike Taggart. And she needed to intercede right now before Sabina got herself in too deep.

  “Hey,” Charlene said in a big voice as she strode toward them. “I’m here to get Daddy’s pen.”

  Mike straightened and turned toward Charlene in slow motion. The glint in his eyes cooled. Good. She wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Oh, hey, Charlene, have
you met Mike Taggart?” Sabina said.

  “Yes. We’ve met. In fact, we’re neighbors,” Mike said. He managed to twist the word. Obviously he didn’t like the fact that she was keeping an eye on him.

  “Where’s Rainbow?” she asked.

  “You know, Doc,” he said in his Yankee way, “you need to quit assuming that I’m some kind of ax murderer. I’m really a very nice guy who would never leave a five-year-old on her own. Rainbow is with Timmy.”

  “Timmy?” Charlene and Sabina echoed the name in unison.

  “Yeah, Timmy,” Mike said. “I know everyone around here calls him Tim. But he’s my little brother, and I always called him Timmy.”

  “I’ll bet he was a beautiful baby,” Sabina said.

  “Yes, he was. Blond hair, blue eyes, big smile. Big heart.” Mike stopped speaking and something changed in his expression. As if his mask has slipped. “I missed Timmy a lot when his father took him away.”

  “So that’s what happened?” Sabina asked. Sabina was a member of the Methodist Altar Guild, so it was only natural that she had a lot of questions.

  “Yeah. His father left when I was five and Timmy was three.”

  “You must have been heartbroken,” Sabina said.

  “I guess.” Neither his face nor his voice betrayed any emotions, which was odd, given the topic of discussion.

  He didn’t elaborate. He just stood there for a moment, glancing at Charlene and then Sabina, as if he were trying to find some way to change the subject or trying to suppress emotions.

  “Well, ladies,” he finally said, “I’d love to stay here gossiping, but I need to get going. Timmy is bringing Rainbow back at four-thirty, and I have a few errands to run. It was nice meeting you, Sabina.”

  He turned and brushed passed Charlene. He got three paces away and then turned. “By the way, Doc, I like the boots and the eau de cow you’re wearing.” He had the gall to wink at her before he turned and strolled from the shop.

 

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