Who Am I?

by Dooley, Lena Nelson

  She leaned against the ornate railing and gazed into the distance. A forest surrounded the estate on this side. The dense trees and underbrush gave a sense of being cut off from the world. But more than just trees stood between her and the person she had always been.

  Although she saw no houses nearby, Leiann felt as if someone was watching her. Her gaze slowly traced the carefully laid-out gardens, stopping on a tall man who leaned against a large elm tree with spreading branches that stood a short distance from the house. He appeared to be a gardener or handyman, dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders. Of course, Mr. Johnson would need many workers to keep the property in shape.

  When her eyes met those of the man, her breath hitched. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Hard muscles glistened below his rolled-up shirt sleeves. His wavy hair was too long to be fashionable, and the style needed to be tamed. He exuded a strong masculinity with a touch of wildness.

  His dark, brooding eyes glinted in the sinking sunlight. Why was he studying her so intently? When that question entered her mind, she realized that she was staring at him, too. She quickly averted her gaze.

  ❧

  Gerome was cutting dead limbs out of the overgrown elm trees in the back garden when the French doors in one of the guest suites opened. A woman stepped out onto the balcony.

  Who is this, and where does she fit into the equation? Something about the way her light brown curls tumbled around her head gave her a fluffy halo in the late-afternoon sun. None of Herman’s other employees had said anything to him about someone coming to visit. Maybe he could discover something about her while he ate with the servants this evening.

  After he cleaned up from work, he walked to the big house and went in through the back door to the kitchen.

  Gerome found the cook alone, mashing potatoes in a large pot. Since she was the only other person who knew he was Herman’s stepson, he could relax around her. When he arrived a week ago, she had assured him she wouldn’t tell anyone about the relationship.

  He sniffed the delicious aromas. “Smells like we’re having a feast tonight.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Martha Shields stirred something in a pan on the gleaming industrial-sized range. “Your stepfather’s granddaughter is here.”

  Gerome felt as if he’d been poleaxed. “His granddaughter? I didn’t know he had a granddaughter.”

  “I didn’t either.” She turned and put one hand on an ample hip. “Mr. Johnson’s son died in a motorcycle accident years ago, soon after I came to work here. Evidently, young Lee married a woman his father didn’t approve of. According to the rumors, they had a child several months after his death. Mr. Johnson and his granddaughter haven’t been in contact before.” Martha shook her head and tsked. “Such goings-on.”

  “Do you know her name?” Gerome walked to the large sink and filled a glass with water.

  “Leiann Hambrick. Such a pretty name.” Martha went back to stirring the pot on the stove. “My granddaughter, Charity, is serving as her maid. She saw it engraved on a leather portfolio. She couldn’t get over the strange spelling. L-E-I-A-N-N.”

  “That is unusual.”

  When Gerome returned to his room that night, he took out his secure satellite cell phone and punched in the number of his best friend and coworker. “I need some information, Greg. Find out everything you can about a Leiann Hambrick.” He spelled her first name the way Martha had told him. “She’s from somewhere in Texas.” Gerome raked one hand through his unruly curls. “I need the information ASAP.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  Gerome snapped the phone shut and stared out into the darkening twilight. Why did this woman show up now? Was she part of what he came to check out?

  She could even be a gold digger out to get what she could from the Old Man. If she came here to get her hands on his millions, she’ll have to go through a brick wall—me.

  Four

  As she prepared for dinner, Leiann put on her favorite outfit. Whenever she wore the chocolate brown pantsuit and tailored blouse in muted greens and blues, she felt very professional. That’s the impression she wanted to make on Mr. Johnson. During the mealtime together, maybe she would be able to find out a little more about her family background.

  Charity led her down the stairs and into the large dining room. Leiann glanced around the room. Huge chandeliers hung above both ends of the table, which could seat more than twenty people. Four places were set at one end. So much for a quiet dinner. She wondered who else would be joining them.

  “I see you got here before we did.”

  Leiann turned at the sound of Prudence’s voice. She was accompanied by a man Leiann hadn’t seen before.

  Prudence stopped in front of her. “This is my brother, Eric.”

  After brief introductions, Prudence sat closest to the head of the table. She waved toward the chair at the head of the table. “Herman usually sits there.”

  Leiann slipped into the chair on the other side of the table from Prudence.

  Charity entered with a tray that she set on the sideboard. She picked up a soup bowl and set it before Leiann. “I hope you like cream of asparagus.”

  Leiann welcomed her friendly smile. “Yes, thank you.”

  While Charity served the other two people, Leiann asked, “Isn’t my grandfather going to join us?”

  “No. He isn’t feeling well this evening.” Prudence sipped a spoonful of the soup. “Charity, tell Martha this soup is delicious.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Charity backed out through the door.

  Disappointment robbed Leiann of her appetite. She had really hoped this mealtime would be productive, an opportunity for her to talk to Mr. Johnson alone. Leiann wondered about Prudence. Was she more than just Mr. Johnson’s assistant? She sure was acting like it.

  Prudence turned her attention to her brother. “So, what did you do today?”

  “Nothing important.” He kept his attention on Leiann. “I’d like to get to know Herman’s granddaughter better.”

  Evidently, Eric was used to taking his meals here. Wonder what he does. Maybe he works for Grandfather, too.

  Eric was a handsome man, but Leiann wasn’t interested. As quickly as she could, she ate a few bites of each course, then excused herself after dessert.

  ❧

  Sleep eluded Leiann that night. That’s what I get for taking a nap in the car and another one after I arrived here. After midnight, she rose from tossing and turning in the bed and decided to read awhile. Maybe that would help her relax and get to sleep.

  A walnut bookcase sat against one wall in the sitting area of her suite, and the books she’d brought with her lined one shelf. Her fingers trailed along the spines. She didn’t want one of the suspense novels. Enough drama filled her life already. Finally, she extracted a women’s fiction that everyone had been raving about and took it to the comfortable chair near the window. She pulled her legs up beside her and tucked her gown around them.

  No matter how hard she tried to stay focused, her thoughts roamed far from the story. After an hour, she stood and stretched. Her rumbling stomach reminded her how little she’d eaten that day.

  Maybe she could go to the kitchen and get a snack. Her grandfather had told her to make herself at home, hadn’t he?

  Leiann walked into the closet and found her robe. She removed the terry cloth garment from the hanger and put it on, cinching the belt tight.

  She opened the bedroom door and listened. Probably no one else was up. As she tiptoed down the hall, the thick carpeting swallowed the sound of her footsteps.

  She stood in the foyer and looked around. Now, if I were a kitchen, where would I be?

  After making a few wrong turns, Leiann finally found the right doorway. Most of her house would fit into the cavernous space. She found the light switch and flipped it on, then went to the large stainless-steel refrigerators that lined one wall and opened one. The bottom drawer spread across the whole w
idth, filled with fruit. She took an orange and a paper towel to the table and perched on a high stool, taking her time peeling it while studying the rest of the room.

  Her mother would have loved all the copper-bottomed pans hanging above the island. What other wonders did the cabinets hold?

  After she savored the last juicy slice, she went to the large double sink and wet the paper towel, planning to wipe off the table.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Leiann jumped at the strident voice that echoed in the room. She spun around and gasped. Prudence Smith stood in the doorway, clad in a long silk robe that did little to mask her fabulous figure.

  “I. . .uh, I. . .was hungry.” Leiann felt like a stammering schoolchild as she clutched the soggy paper towel.

  The other woman walked across the room toward her.

  “I showed you the bellpull that would summon a servant.” Prudence took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “Why didn’t you use it? Someone would have brought you whatever you wanted.”

  Leiann wondered why the woman cared what Leiann did. Her grandfather had invited her here, and he didn’t tell her she had to obey his assistant. “I didn’t see any reason to disturb anyone else’s sleep.”

  “That’s what servants are paid for.” Disdain dripped from every word. Prudence swept through the door, her robe swishing behind her.

  Trembling, Leiann took another paper towel from the roll and returned to the table. While she mopped up the few drops of juice from her orange, her thoughts followed the other woman down the hall and up the stairs. Prudence acted more like the mistress of the house than an employee. Dressed as she was, she had to be staying in the main house, not one of the cottages behind, where Leiann assumed the employees lived. Why did Miss Smith live here?

  ❧

  Charity brought Leiann’s breakfast to her room. Leiann asked her to set the tray on the table beside the window. That way she could enjoy the view while she ate.

  “Have you worked here long?” Leiann liked having the cheerful young woman around.

  The maid looked up from smoothing the covers over the mattress. “Just since I finished junior college a year ago. I’m saving money so I can transfer to a four-year school.”

  Leiann took a sip of orange juice. “What are you majoring in?”

  “I really want to be a lawyer, but I’ll probably end up a paralegal. Law school takes a long time and a lot of money.” She picked up Leiann’s robe from the chair beside the bed and headed toward the closet.

  After taking a bite of the delicious waffles, Leiann studied Charity. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you choose to work here?”

  “Martha, the cook, is my grandmother. I spent a lot of time here during the summers.” Charity came out of the closet and went back to the bed. “I’ve always liked Mr. Johnson. He’s been good to my family.”

  Charity finished tucking the comforter under the pillows and smoothed it. Leiann wanted to ask the girl more about what was going on in the house, but she didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe she could find out later.

  ❧

  The butler brought Leiann a summons to Mr. Johnson’s office soon after she finished breakfast. She brushed her teeth, splashed on cologne, and defined her lips with a subtle shade of lipstick. She’d never worn much makeup except when she had a special event to attend, which hadn’t been often. Leiann fluffed her curls and took a deep breath before heading down the stairs.

  When she knocked on the door, her grandfather opened it. “Come in, Leiann.”

  She smiled, not knowing what to say as he led her toward a sofa and a couple of chairs that sat on one side of the office. He eased into one of the chairs, so she decided to sit on the sofa. After sinking into the deeply cushioned seat, she picked up one of the decorative pillows and held it in front of her, fingering the fringe. At least this was less intimidating than sitting across the large desk from him.

  A moment of uncomfortable silence lengthened. Finally, she looked at the elderly man. His intense gaze rested on her.

  “Why did you want me to come here?”

  He took awhile before saying anything. A myriad of expressions crossed his face. “The most important reason was to ask your forgiveness.”

  “I have no idea what I need to forgive you for.” Leiann’s heart raced under his scrutiny. She looked away, her gaze roaming from the glossy paneled walls to the thick draperies that framed the floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything seemed dark. Definitely a man’s domain.

  “This is hard for me.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No man wants to admit his failings, and I’ve had lots of them.”

  Leiann didn’t comment.

  Herman Johnson steepled his fingers and rested his chin against the tips. “I am not proud of what I did to your mother. But she was finally able to forgive me.”

  Leiann couldn’t hold back any longer. “Why didn’t she ever tell me about my father and you?”

  “I asked her not to until you were grown. She and Milton were good parents, and I didn’t think I deserved to upset your life. She chose to keep you in the dark longer.” He sighed and swiped a hand across his eyes. “I thought she would eventually tell you.”

  Leiann rose and paced across the Persian carpet before turning back toward the man. “Do you have any idea how all this has affected me?”

  “Dear Leiann, I hope you can give me the time it will take to get to know me. During your visit, I’ll answer all your questions.” Weariness painted his features, and his shoulders stooped. “Can we do this a little at a time?”

  The thought panicked Leiann. She had only thought she’d be here for a short visit. “How long?”

  His eyes drifted closed. Without opening them, he said, “I know your school year is almost over.” He opened his eyes and fastened his gaze on her. “Could you stay at least until the middle of summer?”

  She gasped. She’d only planned on a few days at the most.

  Before she could answer, he held up a hand. “I know that’s a lot to ask, but I have much to atone for, and I don’t think I can go into it all at once.” His eyes took on a pleading expression that looked foreign on his strong but wizened face.

  Leiann lowered her gaze to the carpet. She did want to know about her father. And did she really have to hurry back to the house that reminded her so much of her lost past? The principal had told her the substitute could finish out the year. And she needed time to grieve for her mother. Could she do that in this foreign setting?

  “Will you at least think about it?”

  She gave a slow nod.

  “Good.” A faint smile stretched his thin lips. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to lie down. I’ve been ill, and it’s taking me awhile to regain my strength.”

  Leiann followed him out the door into the hallway. He turned the opposite direction from the foyer, which contained the staircase.

  As she walked to her room, she realized she hadn’t learned one single fact about her life. Except that her mother evidently had forgiven her grandfather for whatever he did to her.

  Tonight, she would call Arlene and tell her about Mr. Johnson’s request.

  ❧

  Even in this large house, Leiann felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Deciding she needed a walk in the sunshine, she took off her skirt and flats and put on khaki slacks and sneakers.

  “Charity,” Leiann called to the girl cleaning the bathroom in her suite. The maid came into the bedroom. “I want to get outside for a while. I’d like to visit the gardens. Is there anything I need to know before I go out there?”

  Charity raised her eyebrows. “Like what?”

  “I just don’t want to do anything that would cause a problem.” As soon as the words left her lips, Leiann knew they sounded silly.

  “You’re family. You can do anything you want.” Charity wiped her hands on a towel.

  Of course the servants would think that. Leiann opened the door to the h
allway. “If Mr. Johnson wants to talk to me, can you tell him where I’ve gone?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She considered going out the front door and walking around to the back of the house but instead decided to make her way through the mansion. She wished someone had given her a tour of the house.

  First she found the library, which was lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, except for a section across the back where French doors opened to the garden. She definitely wanted to go out there, but first she had to explore this room. Like something out of a Victorian novel, the library sported hanging ladders that slid along the top shelves. She moved a couple of them and climbed in several places around the room. The selection of books was phenomenal—leather-bound classics, some first editions, reference books, a large selection of fiction from different eras. She even found a collection of current Christian fiction. She wouldn’t have needed to bring her own after all. Maybe she’d read a few of these and save hers for when she went home. She wondered who in this house enjoyed them.

  Leiann stepped through the French doors into the late-morning sunlight that bathed the multi-level flagstone terrace. The sun brought warmth, but not the heat she was used to in Texas at this time of year.

  The terrace held several glass-topped, wrought-iron tables with comfortable-looking chairs. Maybe she could ask to have her breakfast here sometimes. If she decided to stay.

  At the end of the terrace, stone steps led down into the garden. Paths meandered in different directions through well-manicured lawns and flower beds. She chose one and strolled through a long arbor that gave shade from the sun and sheltered a wide variety of flowering bushes and shrubs, many of them roses. Their perfume infused the air, reminding Leiann of her mother. Every year, Mom had toiled over her rose beds, but never had they bloomed as profusely as those surrounding this path.

  Leiann took a deep breath to keep from crying at the thought of her mother, then strode down the stone path. When she found a white wrought-iron bench, she sat and gazed at the verdant hillside in the distance, trying to lose herself in its beauty to keep from concentrating on her recent loss.