Ladd Fortune

by Dianne Venetta

  Her mother had gone and not taken her daughter with her.

  It was a day Annie would never forget. Not only had Jeremiah left her, but her mother had deserted her, too. Lacy was no different. Visions of her sister prancing into the salon the other day, acting as though they could mend fences with a hug and smile, was insulting. Annie might not be able to count on anyone, but she still had her pride. She could still walk through town with her head held high and her heart and soul free and clear. But it was a road she’d be walking alone. Anger welled. Candi’s betrayal rubbed raw. Could no one be trusted anymore? They were cheats and liars—the lot of them—but Casey would be able to count on her. Annie would not forsake her daughter, no matter how trying the girl might become. Annie would prove to Casey that not all people left. Not all parents abandoned. Jeremiah might not acknowledge he was her father, but that didn’t mean Annie couldn’t prove it. With him in town, her lawyer could serve him papers and force him to take that paternity test. Then Casey would know for sure. Delaney would know for sure. And no one could deny her child was a Ladd.

  For all the good it would do her. Annie pushed back from the table abruptly. She might not be able to secure a portion of Ladd Springs in her child’s name, but the question would be settled. Once and for all, everyone in this one corner town would know that Casey Melody was a Ladd, not an Owens—and just as entitled to the wealth of Ladd Springs as Felicity. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would pay a visit to her lawyer and put an end to the doubt.

  Annie hurried down the sidewalk, mentally rehearsing her conversation with the lawyer. I wanted to inform you that Jeremiah Ladd, the father of my child, is in town. I’m prepared to press forward immediately with the petition for the paternity test. Agitation churned. Heat rose beneath her hair, the midday sun hot on her skin. Darn it, she had gone over this! She needed to get it right. She needed to sound calm and professional. Detached. She was within her rights, the lawyer had said so. Would it matter to a judge that her daughter was almost eighteen?

  Fear spiraled down her spine. She hoped not. This was her last chance. This was her last chance to prove once and for all that Casey was Jeremiah’s flesh and blood. His daughter. What if the lawyer told her to forget about it? Annie’s research via the internet last night indicated she could file a claim until Casey was twenty-one. While Casey was technically an adult, Annie should still be able to force the paternity test. Maybe even sue for back child support.

  Annie was so tired of playing the “what if” game over and over and over. What if the information she found online was wrong? What if Jeremiah refused? Would they spend the next three years in court? She didn’t have that kind of money!

  Did he?

  Reading the name of her lawyer plastered over a door on a small, one-story building, Annie’s nerves ripped and tore. Dakota Law and Associates. It was now or never. Casey was probably too old to expect any financial support from Jeremiah, but at least it would solidify her status as a Ladd.

  Annie pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her nose, her cheeks. Crumpling it, she stuffed the paper into a side pocket and froze, paralyzed to move. For the space of several seconds, her heart came to a complete standstill. Not twenty feet away from her, Jeremiah Ladd strode out the front door of her lawyer’s office. Her lawyer’s office. A shudder ran through her. What was he doing there?

  Jeremiah’s eyes lit up at the sight of her and he sauntered over, the turquoise of his shirt reflecting brightly in the morning sun in a glaring sheet of blue. “Hey, Annie.”

  Perspiration broke out beneath the silk of her top. Annie’s throat closed.

  “Fancy meetin’ you here.” He glanced back at the building. “You have business with Mr. Dakota?”

  She clutched her purse to her side. Vocal cords scratched and scraped as she replied, “I do.”

  Jeremiah drew closer. “What’s it about?”

  “None of your business,” she wanted to shout, and smack the smirk from his face. Visions of him and Candi together congealed in her mind’s eye.

  “You heard about Ladd Springs?” he asked.

  Annie stared at him. The man was clueless. Utterly clueless.

  Jeremiah made a click with his mouth and said, “Well, I’m here to get what’s mine. Delaney’s trying to steal it from me, but I’m not going to let her. That little fox is going to get what’s coming to her.”

  And so will you. A strange band of courage encircled Annie’s heart. She pushed her shoulders back and said, “I’m here to establish paternity for my daughter, Jeremiah.” She watched for it to register and it did—quickly.

  “You still trying to put her on me?”

  Good. The statement erased all trace of his previous ease. Jeremiah understood the implications of her statement, clear as the blue sky above. “Casey is your daughter,” Annie said flatly. “I intend to prove it once and for all.” Unlike Atlanta where he managed to dodge her summons, he could not hide from her around here. These buildings had eyes and ears. Someone would know where to find him at the drop of a gavel. “And when I do, I will see to it that she gets her rightful share of Ladd Springs.”

  His brow rose at the revelation. “So that’s what you’re after.”

  “I’m after doing what’s right, Jeremiah. It’s been long overdue.” A concept he clearly didn’t comprehend.

  “You’re wasting your time, Annie. I know you slept with Clem Sweeney before I left, and I bet your illegitimate brat belongs to him.”

  Annie slapped him across the face.

  Jeremiah shot a hand to his cheek.

  Shocked by her response, she curled her fingers into her stinging palm, pressed it to her beating heart. She hit Jeremiah!

  He stared at her, rubbing his cheek. A smile twisted his lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll tell him when I see him.” Without another word, he stalked off.

  Annie couldn’t believe what she had done. Slapping Jeremiah—was she crazy? Staring after him, she pulled herself together and ran for the lawyer’s office. Grabbing the cold metal door handle, she pushed inside, pulse racing. Had she lost her mind?

  Jeremiah sat alone in his truck in the parking lot, behind the single-story cement block building. Painted white and lined with black metal doors, it was the strip center that ran down Main Street, the one where Candi’s salon was located. Loretta was off trying to get information from the Parker kid after her night at Whiskey Joe’s turned up zilch. She got nothing, except a second chance. They were having lunch at Fran’s Diner, and this time, she’d better not blow it.

  Speaking of blow, Jeremiah needed to blow off some steam. Running into Annie outside the lawyer’s office this morning had been a complete surprise, as had her reaction. The bitch actually hit him! If she thought that was the way to get him to acknowledge her bastard child, she had another thought coming. There was no way in hell he would claim that kid as his own, even if she was his, especially since Annie seemed to think the girl was her ticket to his inheritance. Did she think all she had to do was prove the kid belonged to him and she had her ticket to his dough?

  In her dreams, he fumed inwardly. In her dreams. Why Candi hadn’t told him that little morsel was something else he needed to find out, but getting the lowdown from her while she was in the salon wasn’t gonna to work. Approaching her out back would save him from gawking strangers while he coaxed her into giving him the information he wanted.

  So he sat. And waited. Eventually, Candi would have to come out of the salon. Since it was almost the lunch hour, he anticipated that time to be soon. After a few minutes, the salon’s rear exit door opened and out pushed an old woman. Jeremiah checked his watch. High noon. As he imagined, the women were flocking to their cars like cows to sweet feed. Two more followed, one’s head dumped in her purse as she searched it, most likely for car keys. All three women drove off. The minutes ticked by. With his engine turned off, the sun baked his truck, raising the interior heat to unbearable levels. Jeremiah swiped the moisture from his brow, hi
s upper lip. He’d run his air-conditioner, but who knew how long he was going to have to wait and running gas cost money. Money he didn’t have.

  The salon door swung open again and Jeremiah’s insides shifted. Bingo. He pushed out his car door and strode toward Candi. As though she sensed his presence, Candi looked up. He savored the look of fear that swept her features. That’s right. You should be scared. Lying to me about your intentions was a dumb move.

  Candi hurried to her car—as though she would beat him to it—but Jeremiah was faster and pulled the keys from her hand. “Hey, baby, why the rush?”

  “Jeremiah!” Candi exclaimed. She fired a glance around the parking lot, heartbeats stampeded through her chest. The other hairstylists were nowhere to be seen. Narrowing in on him, she wondered how she missed his approach in the outrageous blue shirt. “What do you want now?”

  “Information.”

  Candi shuddered. The word slithered out like a snake’s tongue. “I told you everything I know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Now if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.” She tried to grab her keys, but anticipating the move, he whisked them behind his back.

  “Actually, I do mind.” He smirked. “You see, I ran into Annie at the lawyer’s office this morning.”

  Candi’s heart missed a beat. Heat clung to her skin, moist and hot beneath the hair on her neck. “So?”

  “Seems she thinks she can file a lawsuit for the property, on account of Casey being my daughter.”

  “Well.” Candi paused. “She is.”

  Jeremiah chuckled. “Now, now, let’s not leap to conclusions. We both know she slept with your brother.” He cocked his head in a pompous move, gathering his brow. “For all I know, the kid is his.”

  “She did not!”

  “Did, too.”

  “She didn’t,” Candi insisted. “She would have told me.”

  “Maybe your friend isn’t as good a friend as you think she is,” he said, pleasure licking at his golden-brown eyes.

  “But still, Clem isn’t Casey’s father. He can’t be.”

  “I don’t know that. A woman sleeps with a man, she can get pregnant.”

  “But Jeremiah, Clem is sterile.”

  “So what?”

  “So what?” She gaped at him. Was he that ignorant? “It means he can’t possibly be Casey’s father.”

  With a hitch of his chin, he thrust, “Prove it.”

  “I don’t have to prove it—everyone in the family knows!” Why was he being so difficult? Did he really not get it?

  “Tell it to the judge, baby. I told Annie the same thing and she shut up pretty quick about it.” His tone grew urgent. “Now speaking of your brother, where is he?”

  Realizing Jeremiah didn’t have any business with her, Candi relaxed, but only slightly. It was best a girl keep her guard up around a man like him. “I don’t know.”

  “My buddies tell me he was pretty tight with my old man and I want to talk to him.”

  “Did your buddies also tell you that he kidnapped Delaney?”

  Jeremiah laughed. “That little hot-head probably deserved it!”

  “Jeremiah Ladd, you are a despicable human being. I should never have called you.” Her thoughts went quickly to Annie. She never planned on calling him. If only Candi hadn’t been short-sighted and selfish. God knows, she’d been thinking of herself when she called Jeremiah, thinking how if she could help Annie get a piece of Ladd Springs, Annie would loan her the money to open up her own salon.

  It had been a mistake. And now she was paying the price.

  “Ah, but you did, sweetheart.” He bowed his head toward her. “You did.”

  She glared. Maybe she could make it up to Annie. If she was worried about Clem being Casey’s father, the knowledge of his sterility might be just the tidbit Candi needed to get back in Annie’s good graces.

  “Now I want to talk to your brother,” Jeremiah repeated. “Where is he?”

  “Probably in jail, where he belongs.”

  Jeremiah paused. With a devilish smile, he gazed at her, drew a finger down the length of her bangs. “When did you get so mean, Candi?”

  She shook free of his touch. “When I started getting a lick of sense about me.”

  He chuckled, his eyes mocking. “Make my life easy, will you? Where does he hang out?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” she snapped and shoved past him to her car. “Now give me my keys before I start screaming.” Oh yes, Annie would hear about this. Jeremiah was a no good lowlife and Candi would help her friend put him where he belonged—in court—paying not only child support but half his stake in Ladd Springs.

  Chapter Eleven

  Parked at a table in her aunt’s diner, Lacy poked at her plate of okra, the golden-fried nuggets still too hot to eat. Aunt Frannie had ordered them for her, despite the fact she wasn’t very hungry. But that was Frannie’s way—eat, eat, eat. It wasn’t like she was starving. In fact, she’d eaten enough food at Ashley’s picnic yesterday to last her a week! Around her, the lunch crowd was picking up, a steady stream of customers piling in through the front door. She recognized several faces, but many were new, many young, new mothers, new babies. A newborn screamed in her momma’s arms.

  It made Lacy’s heart ache to see life flourishing in the hills of Tennessee while hers sat idle, stale, about as appealing as last week’s buttermilk biscuits. She wanted action and excitement. She wanted love and family. As a young mother ushered her toddler ahead, she expertly managed the baby in her arms. Slinging the child onto her hip as she bounced and walked, the red-faced girl grimaced and grew quiet. Lacy longed for a child. She longed for the energy and commotion and the juggling that came along with it. By this time in her life, she’d imagined herself with a passel of kids—boys, girls, twins like on her Daddy’s side. As her gaze trailed the trio to their booth, she brooded over the unfairness. It felt like she’d lost decades of her life, wasting away the hours in the bars of Atlanta, the nightclubs and restaurants, with nothing more to show for her time than memories.

  Allowing the okra to cool, Lacy took a sip from her coke and pondered her next step. The past was behind her. She was looking forward, moving forward. She needed a job, needed something to do, but what? Work at Whiskey Joe’s? Wait tables for Aunt Frannie? Lacy didn’t want to do any of it. She wanted an enjoyable job, a job she’d look forward to going to every day. She wanted something fun, inspiring.

  Spotting her sister Annie walk by the front window, Lacy’s mood perked up. Maybe she could work at the salon. She could learn how to cut hair or maybe answer the phone. Annie swung open the front door, hesitating when she saw Lacy. At least the two of them would be closer. A man bumped in behind Annie, begging her pardon with a sheepish smile. Annie acknowledged him and then marched straight over to Lacy’s table. Hope bloomed. Was Annie having second thoughts about tossing her aside?

  “Hi, Annie!” Lacy waved.

  Annie halted at Lacy’s table. She pressed a forefinger to the tabletop and said, “I’m glad I found you.”

  Lacy brightened. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

  “No, I don’t want to have lunch with you. I want to speak to you about your behavior at the picnic yesterday.”

  “My behavior?”

  “Yes. Your interference with Cal Foster.”

  “Interference?”

  “Yes. I know that’s a big word for you, but it means interrupt, intrude.” The black of her dress accentuated the heavy liner around her eyes, underscoring her anger. “You knew darn well he was talking to me and you tried to steal him away.”

  “What are you talking about? Cal and I are friends from way back, same as you. Why, we were dancing together only minutes before he saw you.”

  “Don’t play coy with me. I know how you operate. You were flirting with him to steal him away from me. Well, I’m warning you right now—back off.”

  Lacy smacked palms to table and exclaime
d, “Annie Grace, I was doing no such thing!”

  Annie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You were and we both know it.”

  Aunt Frannie walked up from behind and put an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “Annie, honey, is there something I can help you with?” She glanced around the restaurant. “You’re making a scene, sugar, and I’ll not have you continue.”

  “Sorry, Frannie, but Lacy has it coming.”

  “Not in my diner, she doesn’t.” Nudging her from the table, Frannie steered Annie a few feet away and hushed her voice, “Your daughter is sittin’ over there in the corner, all by herself. Why don’t you go sit a spell with her and enjoy lunch on me?”

  At the sight of her daughter, Annie’s gaze splintered. Alone in the corner, Casey looked like someone stole her puppy. Lacy’s heart fell.

  Annie turned back to Lacy, her earlier anger diffused. “Don’t let it happen again, Lacy, or I swear I’ll let you have it.” Pivoting, she turned and headed for Casey’s table.

  Frannie watched her go, then asked, “What was all that about?”

  Lacy wanted to cry. Her sister hated her. Growing up, Annie had always been better at everything than Lacy. She could do hair and nails, ride better, swim faster—even Daddy liked her best, always fussing over his oldest child, his pride and joy. Annie scored better in school, took the lead role in a school play, but she had never been very good with the boys. For Lacy, flirting came natural, as natural as breathing. She enjoyed the company of boys and encouraged their attention. Was it her fault she connected with people in a pleasant fashion? Besides, she hadn’t seen Cal since high school and she’d been happy to see a familiar face.