by Linda Bleser
He cupped her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. “I swear to you, Kate. It wasn’t me.”
There was no hint of deceit in his clear blue eyes. With a rush of relief, she knew that Max was innocent. Once again she’d almost let her doubts destroy something good and pure. But if not Max, then who? Someone had deliberately set out to destroy her.
“We’ll find out who did this,” Max said, as if reading her thoughts. “And when I find out, I’ll make them pay. I swear I will.” He pulled Kate tight against his chest, his voice no more than a whisper. “You just have to trust me, okay?”
Kate nodded. She wanted to trust him, but it was hard to break a ten-year habit.
He curled a fingertip under her chin and tipped her face up to his. “Was that a yes?”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Yes.”
“Good. Since you’re in such an agreeable mood, how about staying for dinner?”
The smile melted off Kate’s face. “I’m not sure.” She glanced at the doorway where Sue had disappeared. “I don’t think your sister approves of me being here.”
“Don’t be silly,” Max said. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Kate’s lips. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Kate sat at the kitchen table and watched Otis Connors shuffle a worn deck of cards. His hands were rough, work hardened, yet he manipulated the cards with precision and dexterity. Each time he made an ace appear from the deck, she shook her head in wonder. No matter how hard she watched, she couldn’t detect the sleight of hand.
“See?” Bobby giggled. “It’s magic.”
Kate nodded. “It sure is.”
Max chose that moment to step into the kitchen and gently admonish his nephew. “Real magic would be if you set the table before your mom told you to.”
“Oh, I’ll do it,” Kate said, starting to rise.
Max laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s Bobby’s job, isn’t it Champ?”
Bobby nodded, beaming with pride. “I get two dollars a week for doing all my chores,” he said. “Wanna see?”
Kate nodded and Bobby scooted over to the refrigerator, surprisingly agile with his arm braces. He took down a list covered with stars and brought it to Kate. The chores were simple, geared toward his abilities yet important enough to make him feel like a productive member of the household.
A wave of tenderness had Kate fighting back tears. Her first instincts would have been to protect and coddle the child, not realizing how important it was to give him a sense of self-worth. Max understood, and the pride on Bobby’s face as he explained his chores was proof of that.
Kate realized that was also a large part of the work Max did here on the ranch—letting the children take part in the grooming and feeding of the horses, giving them something to care for and an outlet for pride in a job well done. All of these chores contributed to the children’s emotional and mental outlook.
Cheryl had told Kate all this that first day she’d showed her around the facility. At the time Kate had been nurturing her personal grudge against Max and hadn’t wanted to be swayed by this insight into his character. But she couldn’t help but be touched.
The therapy, she realized now, involved more than simply physical rehabilitation for the children. They formed a bond with the animals as well—touching, stroking, whispering their innermost secrets to the horses as their bodies strengthened. The horses didn’t judge them or tease them for being different. They gave unconditional love in return.
And Max provided all this with no compensation. If anything, he was struggling to stay in the black. No wonder Lillian had gone out of her way to keep money flowing to the ranch. No wonder she’d provided for Max and the ranch in her will. There were no ulterior motives on Max’s part. He hadn’t asked for anything or manipulated himself into inheriting a share of her mother’s estate.
If anything, that realization made her even more determined to see that Ed Tate didn’t get his hands on half of the business. He’d be stealing the dreams of these children with his greed. Watching Bobby go about his chores, Kate knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“So,” Max said, pulling up a chair. “I see Dad’s been entertaining you with his card tricks.”
“I’m convinced he’s a real magician,” Kate said with a smile.
“That would be nice,” Max replied, a momentary frown creasing his forehead. “We could use a little magic around here.”
Kate heard the frustration in his voice. She wanted to tell him that things would be better soon, but there was no way she could make that promise. If Ed Tate had his way, there’d be nothing left for any of them in the inheritance.
Otis gave a sharp riffle to the cards in his hand. “Ain’t no magic about it,” he said gruffly. “Ranchin’ is all sweat and hard work.”
Max slapped his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “Speaking of work, I guess we’d better help Sis with dinner.”
“What can I do?” Kate asked.
Max sauntered over to the stove and lifted the lid off a pot on the back burner, releasing a fragrant cloud of steam. “Looks like stew tonight. How are you at peeling potatoes?”
“I think I can handle that,” Kate replied, joining him at the counter.
Max brought her a bag of potatoes and a paring knife and she set to work, barely noticing the moment Sue joined her. They worked side by side quietly. Sue mixed buttermilk biscuits while Kate peeled and quartered potatoes, accompanied by the homey sounds of kitchen clatter. It felt good. She’d been living alone for so long that she’d forgotten the simple pleasures of preparing a hearty meal for a hungry family.
Kate felt some of the tension she’d been under ease as they went about their separate chores. For the first time in a long time, she felt like part of a family. Bustling around the kitchen, it struck her with amazing clarity that the things she wanted most were the very things she’d been running from.
Home. Family. A place to belong.
Kate rinsed the potatoes then added them to the pot of simmering meat and gravy. Slowly she became aware of the silence around her. She turned from the sink and found three sets of eyes on her.
Otis blinked, Max gave her a puzzled look and Sue frowned then quickly looked away.
“What?” Kate asked. She looked at the empty strainer in her hands wondering if she’d made some grievous potato error.
Max cleared his throat. “You were humming.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. She hadn’t even been aware she’d been humming. “Humming is bad?”
Max smiled. “No. It’s just that you were humming one of my mother’s favorite songs. It was just a shock, that’s all. She used to stand at the sink just the way you were and hum that Roy Orbison song while she cooked.”
Kate felt a chill crawl down her spine. Of course. Hadn’t Nellie said that both Lillian and Anne Connors were big Roy Orbison fans? Kate must have been humming one of the songs from the teacup, not even aware it was one of Anne Connors’ favorites. Or was this just another sign?
Maybe it was time to take the teacup’s message more seriously. She glanced from one person to another. “We need to talk,” she said.
Sue wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ll be in the other room,” she said.
Kate stopped her. “No. This is important to all of us.” She gestured for Sue to join them at the table.
While Max poured coffee, Kate briefly filled everyone in about her mother’s will and how Ed Tate was trying to take over half of the Tea and Crumpet Shop. That part was easy, although Max seemed surprised when Kate insisted that he had a right to the share Lillian had stipulated for the running of the ranch and she was determined to see that he got his full share.
“Yes,” she said, noticing his surprise. “Your share. This place is too important to you and the kids,” she said. “Lillian knew that, and so do I. I’ll be damned if I’ll let Ed Tate’s vendetta spill over onto innocent children.”
&
nbsp; Sue made a soft sound and looked away. Kate reached over and clasped the other woman’s hand. “I won’t let Tate’s vindictiveness hurt these kids,” she assured her.
Sue lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
“Now,” Kate said, turning to Max and Otis. “This next part is a little strange but bear with me. I think we’re closing in on something here and maybe if we all put our heads together we can figure it out.”
She took a deep breath, refusing to think about how silly it might sound, then told the group at the table about Madame Zostra’s reading and the singing teacup.
Otis spoke up. “Anne gave Lillian that cup a long, long time ago,” he said.
His comment didn’t surprise her. It was another connection, another piece of the puzzle. Kate was sure she was finally on the right track. “I know it sounds strange,” she finished, “but I think my mother is trying to tell me something important. There are definite clues here, but I’m not getting them.”
“A rose,” Sue said, leaning forward with excitement. “That must mean the ranch. Rock Rose Ranch.”
“Yes!” Kate replied. “I realized that after Max left the other night and it totally slipped my mind. Rock roses are what Bobby brought me after my mother’s funeral.”
Regardless of how anyone might have felt about Kate’s explanation, she was relieved to see that they seemed to be taking her seriously enough to at least give it some thought. Or maybe they were simply humoring the crazy city girl.
“So it has something to do with the ranch,” Kate insisted. She glanced at Max. “And something to do with your mother.” She thought back on what Nellie had told her about how close Anne and Lillian were. She turned her attention to Otis. “Your wife and my mother were close friends, right?”
He nodded. “Close as can be,” he said, his eyes softening with remembrance. “They had the same taste in everything, right down to the music they liked.”
Kate nodded thoughtfully. “I thought the Roy Orbison songs were clues, but maybe they were only meant to lead me here.”
“Or both,” Otis said.
“One of the songs was ‘Pretty Papers’,” Kate said, turning back to Max. “Would your mother have left any papers here? Something that might prove Ginny and Ed Tate’s claim on the property is false?”
Max seemed more puzzled than convinced. “If she did, I’m sure we would have found them by now. We’ve gone through all of my mother’s things.”
“I wonder,” Kate mused. “When Madame Zostra said ‘Max has the key’ I assumed she meant the key to the puzzle.” She turned her gaze to Max. “What if she meant it literally? Maybe there’s a physical key that opens something…a safe or a desk?”
“What about Mom’s jewelry box?” Sue asked.
Max shook his head. “No, the jewelry box doesn’t lock. There’s no key that I know of.”
Kate fought down a wave of disappointment. For a brief moment there, everything had seemed to be falling into place. She’d almost believed some supernatural force was leading her to the answers they sought.
She shook her head. “There’s got to be something. All the clues are leading me here.”
“Roy Orbison…in a teacup.” Otis chuckled. “Who’d have thought it?” Suddenly he sat straight up and snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”
“What?” Max and Kate both asked at the same time.
“Those records,” Otis said. “Anne would listen to them all day and night.” He rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Now where did I put them?”
Kate tried not to get her hopes up. She wasn’t sure how some old records would help save the business, but it felt right. If nothing else, she could search the song titles for more clues.
Before she could question their direction any further, Otis jumped out of his chair. “The attic,” he cried out. “Max, get the key.”
As soon as Otis asked Max for the key, nearly echoing Madam Zostra’s words exactly, Kate felt a jolt to her chest. This was it. She was sure of it. Although why the attic was locked and what Roy Orbison had to do with saving the Tea and Crumpet Shop, she couldn’t begin to guess. But the fluttering in her stomach assured her they were finally on the right track.
“I’ll stay down here with Bobby,” Sue said. “You all go check the attic.”
While Max went to hunt up the keys, Kate followed Otis upstairs. They passed a small game room littered with comic books and video cartridges. Kate smiled. Obviously that was Bobby’s private domain. At the end of a long hallway, Otis stopped in front of a locked door.
“Why do you keep it locked?” Kate asked, gesturing to the doorway.
Coming up behind them with a jangling ring of keys, Max answered her question. “Bobby used to think the attic made a great hideaway. We didn’t think it was safe for him to play in there and Sue freaked out the first time he came out covered with cobwebs and insulation. So we locked up the attic and gave Bobby his own private game room.”
After fiddling with the keys, Max finally unlocked and opened the attic door. Kate followed the men inside and looked around. The attic was actually a full-length unfinished dormer with barely room enough to stand but plenty of nooks and crannies for storage space. And nearly every inch of it had been utilized. Plywood covered the floors, but the spaces between the ceiling beams and wall studs were stuffed with cotton-candy pink insulation.
Dust motes danced in the air as Otis made his way down the length of the attic. “Now where did I put those old records?” he muttered, peeking in corners and cubbyholes along the way.
Kate waited, surprised when Max gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and grateful when he didn’t let go. She smiled at him, her heart fluttering in her chest. She didn’t want him to let go of her hand. Now or ever. Suddenly New York seemed very far away, almost like a distant dream. She realized that her life—her heart—had always remained right here.
“Here we go,” Otis cried, bending over a small stack of cardboard boxes.
Kate and Max joined him as he finished opening the flaps of the uppermost carton. Neatly stacked inside were dozens of albums, reminding Kate of a time before compact disks, audiotapes or even eight-track tapes. The album covers were faded with time, the records inside protected by crisp paper sleeves.
Kate only half-recognized names from another era—names like Johnny Horton, Del Shannon, Brian Hyland, Johnny Rivers, Gene Pitney and Bobby Vee. Kate wondered if there was an identical pile of these same albums tucked away somewhere in her mother’s attic, a symbol of a past dimly remembered, a time of youth and friendship and secret dreams.
Impulsively she reached for Max’s hand again, feeling safer when his fingers closed around hers, connecting her to her past and perhaps her future. As if recognizing the yearning she felt, he leaned closer, his lips only a heartbeat from hers.
Otis cleared his throat, breaking the silent stillness of the moment. “Why don’t you kids search through these boxes and see what you can come up with,” he said, straightening and wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’ll be right downstairs.”
He winked and Kate felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Caught like a guilty teenager.
Max chuckled when Otis shut the door behind him, closing them both together in the dim recesses of the attic. “Wanna make out?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, feeling that familiar ache blossom deep in her belly. “But not here in the attic. Let’s find what we came for and then sneak away someplace quiet where we can be alone.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Max said, kneeling in front of the open box. He pulled out albums, stacking them carefully alongside the box. “Let’s see if we can figure out what the teacup wants us to find.”
Nothing.
Disappointment rushed through Kate, pulling her stomach into a tight knot. They’d gone through all the record boxes and a dozen others. She’d been so sure the clues had led them to this hiding spot, but they’d torn the attic apart and found nothing at all.<
br />
Heaving a sigh, she sat back on her heels and looked around at the empty boxes scattered around her. It was hopeless.
Max put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her head to his chest. They knelt together while he whispered soft words of reassurance.
“I was so sure,” Kate whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Max combed his fingers through her hair, slow and soothing. “I know. Don’t give up, though. We’ll keep looking.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Where? We’ve looked everywhere already.”
“I’m sorry,” Max said. He cupped her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met, then brushed his lips over hers.
As sweet as the kiss was, it couldn’t dispel the lingering shadow of disappointment Kate felt. She’d wanted to do this for Max as much as herself, to somehow make up for all the lost years and misunderstanding. And maybe deep down inside she’d wanted to build something new for herself too. A new home, a new life, a new love to make up for the one she’d thrown away in her haste to leave her soiled reputation behind her.
She wrapped her arms around Max, lingering over the tenderness of his kiss. Maybe it wasn’t too late to salvage something from the dusty recesses of the past. And maybe that’s where her mother’s restless spirit had been leading her all along—to Max.
He was the first to break the embrace. “I need to ask you something,” he said.
Her heart swelled with anticipation. Was this it? Would he ask her to stay? She held her breath, waiting.
“I want you to come with me to the reunion tomorrow night,” he said.
It took Kate a few moments to grasp what he’d said. The reunion? Her heart plummeted. Absolutely not. The thought of facing all those old classmates sent chills through her body. They’d believed the worst of her. She remembered the way they’d avoided her, the suspicion on their faces. She’d been defenseless, ambushed by innuendo and lies. No. She shook her head. There was no way.
Max stopped her with a finger to her lips before the word could be said aloud. “Just hear me out. You’ve said yourself you’d made a mistake, that running away wasn’t the answer. Isn’t it time you stopped running and put the past behind you?”