“What about Laura? Do you know anything about her?” Jace changed the subject.
Jace assumed Kelly’s hesitation meant that she knew the history behind Laura and himself. At least she knew the rumors.
“I’m s-sorry to be the one to tell you this,” Kelly stuttered. “But I’m afraid she died two years ago.”
Jace was stunned. Numbness took over his body. He needed someplace to go. Pacing in the spacious kitchen didn’t seem far enough away from the news. He didn’t think of Laura often, but he never imagined her dead. Before deciding to come home, Jace had basically folded up the memories of his former time at the Kendall and placed them in a safe corner of his mind, never to be revisited. But life wouldn’t let him keep that promise to himself. The memories had been opened as he watched Ari limp across the floor of their tiny apartment in Colombia. Ari loved to climb. Two weeks ago he was running through some trees when he tripped and twisted his foot. The limp was better than it had been. In another few weeks hopefully it would be gone. He looked thin and pale. Jace made the decision to return to Maryland once the shootings started in their neighborhood, and in so doing, to bring Laura and his brother back into his life.
Laura had been perfect for Jace, or so he thought. And that should have been his first clue that life was never going to end with happily-ever-after. But Jason Kendall was too blinded by Laura’s beauty to see that their relationship was already skidding.
It was a wonderful wedding. The bride wore white and had the appropriate amount of mist in her eyes. The groom beamed and the best man—well the best man sat in the audience, witnessing the nuptials between his brother and his former fiancée, feeling like every eye in the huge church wasn’t on the bride and groom, but trained with pity on him.
Tucking his hands behind his back, Jace stared at the darkness outside the windows. It was like looking through a time portal, viewing the day he’d met Laura Whitmore and how that had altered the course of his future.
He closed his eyes, failing to block it out.
“Hullo,” she had said. It was the first word she’d uttered and it had that deep, sexy sound of a 1930s screen star. He was Jason then. He wouldn’t be called Jace for several years. Twenty years old, as green as they come, and just out of college, Jace was ready to conquer the world. Laura looked as if she’d recently stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine—tall, willowy, with dark red hair that shadowed one side of her face and dipped over her shoulder playing hide and seek with one of her breasts.
Jason had been peering at the sky as he headed for the concession stand. The Firebirds had just flown overhead and most of the patrons of the fall air show were watching their aerial exercises. Unaware that he was close to someone, Jason and Laura collided. Instinctively, his hands came out to steady her. He felt her curves and the softness of her waist. No woman had ever claimed his attention as instantly as she had. He could feel his breath catch and electricity snake through his fingers and up his arms.
“Hello.” He only managed to get the one word out, because his eyes were too busy taking in a face more lovely than any he’d seen before. Her eyes were on him, too. Admiring. He shifted his position and glanced away, not wanting her to read the thoughts that were dominant in his head. He probably apologized for walking into her, but no memory of the exchange came to him.
Jason introduced himself then and took the hand Laura offered. And that’s where it had begun.
“Have you ever wanted to fly one of those?” she asked later as they’d strolled about the grounds, inspecting the planes on the airfield. She sipped from a bottle of water that hung from a strap over her shoulder.
“What guy hasn’t?” Jason answered. “To control all that power and have the freedom of the sky, it’s a dream come true.”
Dream come true. Today Jace sneered at the irony of the phrase. He thought Laura was the beginning and end of everything he’d searched for in life. From then on, even though she lived in the District of Columbia, and had worked as a researcher for the Air Force for the past two years and he lived in Maryland, a few hours from her, he pursued her.
For them, everything seemed to fit. Neither could see beyond the other, at least he thought that was true for both of them, until that night six weeks after they met, when he brought her home to introduce her to his family. Little did he know that a simple dinner with them would be another turning point in his life. That the fabric of a relationship Jason would have sworn couldn’t be ripped, was shredded.
That was the night Laura met Sheldon.
Looking back on it, Jace should have realized. His fire with her had flashed fast and burned bright, but it couldn’t match the inferno that surrounded her and his older sibling.
Jason stayed around until their wedding, most of it he couldn’t remember the next day or any day since. They left for their honeymoon and he left for parts unknown. He still wasn’t sure to this day where he went or what happened to him. Six months later he emerged from a bottle of vodka on the seedy side of some town near Athens in Greece. With no money, no friends and only the sour taste of stale liquor in his mouth, he headed out to find work.
He looked like a homeless drunk. He was a homeless drunk. His clothes were dirty and torn and he had difficulty speaking the language. Eventually, Jason found a church, a place where he got a meal. His stomach had growled all day and as soon as he entered the dimly lit shelter and smelled the coffee, he thought he’d gone to heaven.
He speculated how long it had been since he’d eaten. If he ate anything, would it stay down? Sitting at a plain wooden table he ate a little rice and lamb and had another cup of the heavy mud-like coffee.
Jason kept his head down, speaking to no one and likewise no one spoke to him. The coffee was a bottomless cup and it seemed his thirst was unquenchable. He drank so much of the stuff that he thought it would have cured him for a lifetime of ever drinking the liquid again. But later, he discovered an acquired taste for it.
That night he slept in an alley and in the morning, nudged by a not-so-friendly constable, continued his search for a job. He washed up in the sea and, turning his only shirt inside out, did the best he could to look presentable. He got hired washing dishes for half the usual rate, but he couldn’t be picky. Meals came with his wages. It wasn’t much, but enough to pay for a room for the night and a hot shower. After a week, Jace signed on to a freighter. He didn’t care where it was going, east or west didn’t matter. Eventually he would get back to the States. What he hadn’t expected was to end up fighting for his life in the middle of a South American drug war. But that’s where he found Ari. And for the child’s sake he would do it all again.
But there was one thing he would never do again. No woman would ever make him feel the way Laura had. She was dead and so was anything that surrounded his feelings for her or any other woman.
“When did she die?” he asked, coming out of the years that bound his old life to this one.
“She died just before your brother lost the house.”
Kelly’s voice was soft and kind. He wasn’t sure he deserved her consideration given how he’d landed here with Ari.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“When I left she was so active, so alive.”
“You might talk to some of her friends. I didn’t know them.”
Jace walked to the window. He looked out on the darkness. “I didn’t expect this,” he said, more to himself than to Kelly. “I’m not sure what we do now.” He turned back to her. “Do you mind if I just rest awhile before making any decisions?”
CHAPTER TWO
A THOUSAND THINGS went through Kelly’s mind as she watched Jason Kendall staring through the window. She’d seen all the signs before. He was carrying a torch for his brother’s wife. Kelly had lived in Windsor Heights all her life, except for the five years she’d spent in New York after college. She’d heard conflicting versions of the story about Jason Kendall and his brother’s wife. You couldn’t live in Windsor Heights and not
be fascinated by the people living at the Kendall, especially when they were acting less than perfect. And with Jason that was the norm.
Kelly had seen Jason at infrequent times. He always seemed to be away. Kelly doubted he would recognize her.
“What about the child?” she asked. The boy he’d carried in was small and dark, with no resemblance to Jace that she could see in the few seconds she’d glanced at his sleeping figure. “What’s his name?”
“Ari. Short for Aristotle.”
“Greek,” she smiled. “How long have you two been traveling?”
“A couple of days,” Jace said. “And he’s not Greek.”
She stood up. She admitted she shouldn’t do this, but she was going to. If Jace had been alone, she’d send him to the nearest hotel, but she couldn’t have him waking up a child and taking him out in the rain. And she did know him. If knowing his reputation and living within spitting distance of his home counted for anything, then she did know him. Almost.
“I can offer you a bed for the night. Tomorrow you’ll need to make other arrangements.”
He didn’t say anything, only stared at her.
Kelly couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. She felt a little strange. This had been his house before it was hers, but it was hers now. And none of the Kendalls had any claim on it.
Maybe Jace wanted to leave right now. Though he obviously didn’t know where his brother was, maybe he had friends in Windsor Heights he could go to. The hour was late, and from what she’d discerned no one knew he was coming back tonight.
“Thank you,” he finally said. “We’d appreciate that.”
Kelly moved when he spoke. Starting for the living room, she glanced over her shoulder to see him following her.
“If you have pajamas for him, you should get them. I’ll take him to one of the guest rooms.” She stopped, realizing Jason didn’t know where the guest rooms were. When he lived here they might not have been guest rooms.
“I’ll find you,” he said, understanding her thoughts.
Kelly stopped at the door to the living room and watched as Jace continued to the foyer. She went inside and kneeled in front of the boy. He was still asleep, his body curled into a fetal position. She watched him, trying to determine if there was any resemblance to the man she’d just spent time with in her kitchen. Although Ari was a beautiful child, again she found no features common to him and Jason Kendall. Lifting the child and the afghan Jason had covered him with, she found him lighter in weight than she thought he should be, but still heavy for her. She tried to put him on her shoulder, how Jace had held him, but he slipped down her body and she nearly sat him back on the sofa.
“Here, let me,” Jace said, coming to her rescue. In two strides he was by her side and taking the small bundle from her arms. He had set a small suitcase on the floor. It took a moment for them to exchange arms and legs. Kelly smelled the rain on Jace. The need to lean in closer and inhale deeply caught her off guard. Quickly, she lifted the suitcase, giving herself something to do to ward off the possibility that she might let her mind go where it wanted to. She turned and led them up the stairs, walking faster than usual.
She hadn’t thought about Jace in a while. All her energy was used up renovating the house and grounds. There were nights when she’d walk about the property and remember seeing him recklessly riding a horse over the jumping course. The old horse-racing track was farther away from the main house. Kelly thought Jace used it to annoy his brother.
He’d changed a lot. When she opened the door she would not have known him if he hadn’t given his name. The boyish good looks had been replaced with a rugged worldliness and an unhappiness that seemed to ooze from his pores. His body was solid, however. She’d felt that when he’d taken Ari from her grasp. His skin was tanned so he must have been outside a lot. The one thing he still had was the intensity that she had recognized as a teenager when she hung on the back fence and watched him ride.
Reaching the smallest guest room, Kelly switched on the light as she went inside. Rushing to the bed, she pulled the covers back and Jason laid the boy on the sheets. As Jason reached for the suitcase, she stepped out of his way and then left the two of them alone.
He came out of the room several minutes later. Kelly had checked the adjoining room to make sure it was clean and there were towels in the bathroom.
“You can sleep in this room,” she directed him.
“That’s all right. I’ll sleep here with Ari.”
“The two rooms are connected through the bathroom,” she told him. “It’s more comfortable in there. If Ari wakes up and calls for you, you’ll be close by. I’m sure, after such a long time traveling, you want someplace comfortable to sleep.”
“As tired as I am, I could sleep standing up,” he said in a road-weary voice.
“That won’t be necessary,” she told him with a smile. “Good night.”
Kelly left him. She turned to go back downstairs. It was late and she needed to turn off the lights and go to bed herself.
“Kelly,” Jason called.
She paused and turned.
“Thank you,” he finally said.
Kelly didn’t want to look at him. Her emotions were involved. Though clearly, to find out that he’d lost both his home and the woman he once loved in the same day was pushing him to the limit. It was a lot for anyone to handle.
“Good night,” was all Kelly could think to say. “It’s only one night,” Kelly whispered to herself. She owned the house now and no matter what stories she’d heard about Jason Kendall and how his father and brother had treated him, it was only one night.
* * *
SUNSHINE BLAZED THROUGH the huge windows that looked out on the back lawn. Kelly opened her eyes and squinted at the brightness. After all the rain the night before, the light seemed especially brilliant. She loved waking to sunshine and always left the drapes open. But it wasn’t the light that woke her today. The feeling of being watched encroached upon her sleep.
She was startled to see Ari’s eyes, barely higher than the coverlet, peering at her.
“Am I dead?” he asked.
Kelly blinked, pushing herself up on her elbows to see his entire face.
“Ari, why would you think you’re dead?”
“Everything is so white. And you’re an angel. Only an angel would know my name,” he answered in childlike logic.
Kelly looked at her bedroom. The cover was white, the rug was white and the walls were white. The totally white room had splashes of color in the throw pillows, and gold accents that Kelly had used to decorate the space. “Well, thank you,” she said. “But I am not an angel.”
“This is what the priest said heaven was like, except...” He trailed off.
“Except what?” Kelly prompted.
“Except for your wings.” He tried to look behind her as if she was hiding her angel wings within the folds of the bed cover.
Kelly laughed. “You’re not dead, Ari.”
He frowned and looked around the room, up at the ceiling, at her bed, and then back at her. “This isn’t heaven?”
“This is my bedroom.”
“All by yourself?” His eyes opened wide.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Wow!” he said. “Is my room for only me?” He pointed to himself as his boy-soprano voice went up hopefully at the end of the sentence.
Kelly sat fully up. She couldn’t tell the child he wouldn’t be staying. She’d only given Jason Kendall and his son a room for the night. Today they had to go.
“Where’s your father?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“I don’t know. Is he dead, too?”
“Ari, you’re not dead and neither is your dad.”
“What is this place? My dad said we were coming to his old house. This doesn’t look like a old house.”
Kelly stopped herself from correcting the boy’s grammar. “Actually, this is a very old house. It was built a long time ago.”
“Before I was born?”
Kelly smiled. “Before your father was born,” she told him. “People will want to come and see it when it’s complete. A lot of work has been done to make it look like it did back then.”
“Did you do it?”
She smiled. She’d forgotten that kids ask a lot of questions. “Yes, Ari, I did a lot of it.” Pushing her arms into the robe that matched her nightgown, she asked, “Are you hungry?”
He quickly began bobbing his head up and down.
“Good, then you can’t be dead. Because dead people don’t get hungry.”
He seemed to be weighing the truthfulness of that in his four-year-old mind. After a moment he nodded and she guessed he agreed with her.
“How about we go and get something to eat?” Kelly didn’t wait for an answer. She offered her hand and he took it. The two went downstairs to the kitchen.
“Wow,” he said again as they entered the spacious kitchen. “I never saw a room this big.”
Kelly was getting a picture of how they must have lived. Their home was probably a lot smaller in comparison. The house at the Kendall, constructed in 1860 by Caldwell Kendall on land that was a bequest upon his marrying a nearby landowner’s daughter, couldn’t be called a farmhouse. It wasn’t a purely serviceable structure. The Kendall was built to display the grandeur of the time.
The place had been magnificent when Kelly was a little girl. What it looked like when she bought it was another story. Slowly she was trying to give it back that glory. But it was expensive and she was having to find alternative means to keep it solvent.
“Do you like waffles?” she asked.
“What’s waffles?”
It was her turn to be surprised. “You’ve never had a waffle? Well, today is your lucky day.”
Kelly was used to fending for herself. She hadn’t grown up in the shadow of the luxury that was the Kendall. Her home was a small house a few miles away. Losing her mother when she was ten, she was raised by her father. He’d worked as a groom at a nearby farm, making barely enough money to make ends meet. Most of his money he drank before getting home. When he did come home, she’d take whatever she could find to buy food. Consequently, Kelly learned to make meals from practically nothing. And she never wasted anything.
Summer on Kendall Farm Page 2