It was his own fault. Even while he washed the wound out with hydrogen peroxide as Mrs. Tidwell made spluttering sounds, he knew he’d screwed up. Mindy smoothed it over somehow, gave Mrs. Tidwell another bottle of the Kaopectate with biolon, and donated the cardboard carrier for the next visit. There would be one soon enough, he was sure of that.
“Are you all right?” Mindy asked, but she didn’t sound like she was that interested in his condition.
“Yeah. Who’s next?”
The rest of the morning went a little better. He stayed to check on the animals after they closed, adjusted some meds and an IV, then locked up and gave Mindy a ride home. She sat in silence, stared out the window, and didn’t speak until he braked in front of her mother’s trailer.
“See you Monday,” she said, and got out. Holding open the door, she looked in at him. “I hope you’re in a better mood by then.”
“I’m in a great mood.”
“Oh yeah. You know, Mrs. Tidwell may be foolish and stubborn and annoying, but she cares enough about that obnoxious cat to bring him in all the time. Doc’s never rude to her, even when he tells her to stop feeding him all that rich food.”
“I’m not Doc.”
“No,” she said, “you’re not.” The door slammed, and he watched her stalk toward the trailer that was basically the same as it’d been for as long as he could remember. She pushed open the gate, greeted a half-grown pup, then two little kids came out the door and ran toward her, squealing as she swept them into her arms. Then Eleanor appeared in the doorway, looked up and saw him watching and waved. He lifted a hand in reply, not wanting to talk with her, knowing he should. After a pause, he opened the car door and got out.
“Hey, Mrs. Rowan,” he said when he reached her fence, and she smiled.
“Chantry, I can’t believe you’ve grown up so tall and handsome. Except for those bruises on your face. But just look at you. A vet. Oh, Carrie would be so proud.”
His throat got tight. This was the reason he’d avoided her. He didn’t want to talk about Mama, didn’t want to remember all that. It made everything seem like yesterday again. Brought it all back so that he felt sixteen, helpless, powerless to stop what was happening around and to him and to those he loved.
“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks. You look good. Mindy—she’s great. Doc said he didn’t know what he’d do without her there every day to keep things going.”
Mindy looked over at him, hugging one of her kids, a curly-headed little girl with big eyes and a sticky face. “If I ever get you whipped into shape, things’ll be just fine,” she said, and lifted a brow when he just looked at her. “You know what I mean. Tact. Try it. Works better’n what you’re doin’.”
“Mindy,” Mrs. Rowan said, and looked uncomfortable, “I’m sure Chantry is an excellent vet.”
“Yeah, he is good. Knows just how to deal with the animals. It’s the two-legged kind he’s having trouble with though. Just wanted to make my point. He knows what I mean.”
He did. After a brief silence, Mrs. Rowan asked about Mikey, and talk went in an easier direction. He told her about Mikey’s legs being fixed, about his high school graduation and being in college, and that he and Shadow lived together in a small house near the campus. “Got a yard, fence, room for both of them. Mikey’s doing good.”
“Do you think he’ll come back soon for a visit? I’d love to see him.”
God. He hoped not. He didn’t want Mikey anywhere near Quinton. “No, not while he’s in school.”
“And I heard Tansy Rivers has come back, doing shows in Tunica. Isn’t that something? I know Dempsey is awful proud of her.”
They talked for another moment, danced around the subject of all that had happened since he’d been back, neither mentioning it but it as obvious as a bullfrog in a bowl of soup, sitting there waiting for one of them to throw it out. Finally, she did.
“Glad you’re okay, Chantry,” she said at last, “and I’m relieved that Cathy wasn’t killed. Brad hasn’t been caught yet, I guess.”
“Guess not. Haven’t heard. Well, got to be somewhere. Nice seeing you again.”
He meant that last. There was a part of him that liked knowing some good things in his past were still there. Mrs. Rowan had always been kind to them, and had been Mama’s only friend. Only real friend, anyway. He thought about what Laura Quinton had said about Mama, how the old man had discouraged them from being friends, and then thought that maybe that was part of Mrs. Quinton’s problem. She was lonely. Left to herself too much. Husband gone, no one close to talk to, days just marching one after the other in the same monotony. He knew how that felt. It was just his choice to keep to himself. Even when sometimes lately he knew he was missing out.
When he reached Parkwood and went inside, the receptionist had him sign in again, then called to the back for Mrs. Quinton. After a few moments, she hung up and looked at him.
“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Quinton isn’t allowed visitors today. Perhaps another time she’ll be up to company.”
This wasn’t unexpected. If Quinton got even a hint he’d been here, he’d cut off any route to her he could. “Tell Mrs. Quinton I came by to see her. And that I hope she feels better soon.”
He left, took Goodman Road west toward 61 Highway and the river, took his time driving back toward Cane Creek. Somewhere along the way he passed Elvis Presley’s old ranch, the long pink residence turned into some kind of club now, sitting back on rolling land enclosed by a security fence. He remembered seeing horses there at one time, but that’d been long ago. High hills went into flat land just before he hit 61 Highway, stretched out toward the river, dotted with small communities that had grown a lot since the casinos were built, thriving now when once they’d been just sluggish way stations with country stores and a Catholic church and school. The school looked new, the church bigger, and he thought about Mama. She’d never mentioned that she’d been brought up a Catholic. He’d thought she was always Baptist. Maybe she’d turned her back on her religion as well as her family, just put it all behind her and changed direction.
Change wasn’t necessarily always a good thing, apparently. She’d ended up in Cane Creek. Why hadn’t she left? It was always at the back of his mind, that question important because it had shaped their lives, changed everything, doomed her and maybe him, too. Only Mikey escaped. At least one of them had. He was grateful for that. It let him know he’d done the right thing by going back, by taking Mikey to Memphis and their grandparents. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. It wasn’t always easy to tell when you were right, but doing the wrong thing usually had pretty swift repercussions. In his world, anyway.
Consequences. For everything you do and what you fail to do. A lesson Mama had tried to get through to him and succeeded. Action, inaction, reaction, all connected and all with different consequences. He was better now at figuring out when to do what, but still didn’t have it down as good as he’d like.
Before he knew it, he was at Tunica, and he turned off to go to the Grand Isle. Tansy had a show tonight. She should be there, maybe rehearsing or resting. He wanted to see her. Needed to see her. Maybe it was just as well he hadn’t seen Mrs. Quinton again, and since he was this close to Tunica, maybe Tansy could help him sort through all the questions that kept bothering him.
It took her a minute to answer the door, and she stood for a moment looking at him as if surprised. “Chantry. What—I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Bad time?”
“Well . . . no. Not really. It’s just—come on in.” She stepped back and he went inside, and wasn’t that shocked to see Chris sitting on the couch. Both of them looked like they’d just gotten out of bed. He glanced from one to the other.
“Seems like maybe it is a bad time for company.”
Chris stood up. “No, it’s not. I was . . . just leaving.”
“Don’t leave on my account.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t.” Chris smiled faintly. “I took your advice.”
Chantry nodded. “Be ready to deal with the consequences.”
“Yeah. That’ll be a bitch.” He looked over at Tansy. “But worth it.”
Now that he knew the depth of Quinton’s prejudice, Chantry understood why Chris had never let his grandfather know about Tansy. It was dangerous.
“Be careful,” he said, and when Chris looked at him again, stared at him so hard he had to know what he meant. Something flickered in Chris’s eyes, his mouth flattened, and he blew out a long breath.
“You know.”
“Yeah. I know. Don’t do anything to get her hurt, Chris. It’s not worth that.”
“Just what are you two talking about?” Tansy demanded, hands on her hips, hair tousled and in her eyes as she looked from one to the other. She wore a short silk robe that reached only halfway down her thighs and her feet were bare. Her mouth was swollen and her eyes sleepy, the look of a woman just out of bed with a lover.
Chris went to her and put his arms around her, pulled her to him and held her so fiercely that even Chantry could see how much he cared. He’d never stopped, it looked like. Let it rule his days and nights, his life. Let his love for her deny him his own happiness to keep her safe. All this time Chantry had thought Chris Quinton was weak, but he’d been strong enough to give up what he wanted most.
“It’s okay,” Chris said to her, “I’ll take care of everything. Things aren’t like they once were. I’m older. Times change. People change.”
“Hate doesn’t change,” Chantry said, and Chris looked over at him. “It might hide for a while, but sometimes it just gets stronger. Be sure you know what you’re doing.”
“All right,” Tansy said, “you two are making me nervous. What the hell are you talking about?”
“My grandfather,” Chris said, and put his hands on her shoulders to stare down into her face. “You know how he is. You may not know what he is, but you know he’s got his own way of looking at things. I’ll deal with him. I’ll get it all straightened out. When I do—damn, this isn’t the way I wanted to say this, to ask, but Tansy, I gotta know how you feel. If you want to be with me from here on out. For a lifetime. Our lifetimes.”
She stared at him. Chantry saw her eyes go wide, her lips part, the quiver that she didn’t try to hide. For a minute he thought she might say no, but then she just nodded, and tears trickled down from her eyes to track her cheeks. He felt like an intruder, started to leave, moving toward the door, but Chris stopped him.
“No. I really am leaving. Stay, Chantry. It’s okay. Maybe you should have been here for this anyway since you know everything. Hell, it seems like we’re all in this together somehow.”
Maybe they were. A strange sort of threesome. He stood awkwardly, looked away when Chris kissed her goodbye, heard Tansy whisper that she loved him, that she’d always loved him, and then Chris left, shutting the door softly behind him.
For a few minutes Tansy stood where he’d left her, then she sighed and said, “Well, that was a bit of a surprise.”
“Took him long enough.”
She laughed. “You do have a way of cutting straight to the chase sometimes, Chantry Callahan. God, I’ve missed you.”
He managed a smile. He wanted to say something nice, congratulate her or wish her well or say everything would be great, but he had this sinking, horrible feeling that it wouldn’t be. That there would be consequences none of them would like. It hung over his head like a dark cloud, a feeling of doom pressing down so heavy and thick he could almost touch it.
Instead, he just said, “Mind if I smoke in here?”
CHAPTER 35
He didn’t say anything to Tansy about what he’d learned from Mrs. Quinton. Not now that Chris had said what he had. It’d have to come from him. If anyone rained on her parade, let it be Chris, though he doubted that anything much would bring her down right now.
Tansy looked happier than he’d ever seen her. She dealt easily with the stream of people that came in and out of her suite, gave instructions to someone she called her PA, looked over some contracts, made some changes in her routine, then went to take a shower and put on her sweats for rehearsal.
“You stay right there,” she told Chantry, “and don’t dare try to leave yet. We’ll have a late lunch, early dinner. I’m just going to do a quick run-through, not a full-blown rehearsal, so won’t take that long.”
Feeling awkward and unnecessary, he sprawled on the leather couch while some girl in a short skirt and tight tank top kept looking over at him and smiling. She had long legs and a nice rack, and he noticed that even while his mind kept drifting in other directions. It wasn’t too big of a surprise when she came over to him after a few minutes, sat down on the couch and gave him a wide smile.
“Hey, you’re not the guy, are you?”
He stared at her. “What guy?”
“You know. Tansy’s lost love. The guy she writes all those songs to even though she says they’re not.”
“No.”
Her smile got wider. “Good. Are you available?”
“Depends on what you have in mind.”
“Um.” She put out a hand, trailed a finger down his arm, pressed lightly. “Whatever you feel up to. My name’s Kim.”
“Chantry.”
Her head tilted. “Not the Chantry?”
He didn’t know how to answer that so didn’t, just looked at her. She laughed.
“Oh . . . my . . . God. I should have guessed. Of course. Dark, brooding, dangerous. That’d be you. You’re just like she said. Maybe the bruises threw me off. You’re the best friend, the guy she would have been in love with if not for that lost love thing, right? Never mind. I see this is making you nervous. It’s okay. I talk too much sometimes anyway. Women talk to each other, you know.”
“I’d heard that.”
“So now you know it’s true.”
“Yeah. Now I know.” He glanced toward the door, wished Tansy would hurry up and get her ass out here, didn’t know quite how or if he wanted to deal with Kim. Ordinarily, he’d have taken her up on her obvious suggestion. She was the kind of woman who attracted him, light and breezy and not in it for the long haul. A “passing the time with hot sex” kind of thing.
As if sensing his retreat, Kim sat back a little, studied him from under her lashes, the trick putting him back in familiar territory.
“So now that you’re here,” she said, “are you going to hang around for the show?”
“Hadn’t planned on it.”
Her brow lifted. He figured she was waiting on him to say he’d changed his plans, but he didn’t know yet what he wanted to do. For some reason, Cinda popped into his mind. Hell, she was all the way across the Atlantic. Probably sitting on an Italian beach with some guy.
“I might,” he said after another moment ticked past.
Kim smiled. “Look me up if you do.”
“Sure.”
Tansy came out then, saving him from having to commit or think of an excuse, and he got up from the couch. Rehearsal in the empty room went quickly, while people came in to clean and set up for the night’s show. Chantry stood to one side in the wings, watching Tansy go through her routine, the same basic show as the night before, making a few changes here and there to accommodate what she called shitty acoustics, suggesting a few extra riffs in one of the songs. She was all business, even in sweat pants and with her hair still damp and held up on top of her head in a ponytail.
Then she came over to him, stuck her hand through the angle of his arm and dragged him with her. “You look hungry,” she said. “I never eat much before a show. Afraid I’ll throw up on stage. God, you just don’t know how often I come close.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” She looked up at him, shook her head. “Every time I go out there I’m terrified I’ll either throw up or won’t be able to get a single note out.”
“Sure can’t tell by watching.”
“Good. Hey, what’d you think of Kim?”
“It’s just . . . hell, I don’t know what it is.”
“That’s okay. I know what it is. When is Cinda getting back in town?”
“This doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Cinda.”
“Right. Who do you think you’re talking to here, Chantry? You forget that I know you.”
“You knew me. I’m not a kid anymore.”
They’d reached the elevators and she stopped, turned to look at him in the muted light that fell from a recessed fixture, a faint frown on her face. “No, she said, “you’re not a kid. But I think you’ve never gotten past that kid.”
He made an impatient gesture. “Let it go, Tansy.”
“Maybe I should be saying that to you. All right. Come on. We’ll get something to eat while you tell me what you think of my show. How’d you like that last song?”
He didn’t stay for the show, and didn’t see Kim again. After eating, he left while Tansy went up to the room to get ready. It was still daylight, but softer, not as hot or intense as it’d been earlier, the sun dipping toward the river and leaving long shadows under trees and walls. When he pulled up in Cinda’s driveway, he saw her car parked in the open garage.
Herky came out to greet him, smiling broadly. “Hey, Chantry. Still room for your car. I told Miss Cinda what happened and she said she wanted you to park here.”
“What’s her car doing here?” He’d rolled down his window but didn’t pull into the garage and didn’t get out of his car.
“She came back today. Said some kind of heat wave over there’s killing a lot of people so she might as well be here where we got air conditionin’.”
Dark River Road Page 49