by Anna Adams
She straightened as if he’d offered her parole. “We can go home. You could visit next time you have a free stretch of vacation days.”
Had she lost her mind? “I don’t think so, Lilah, but nice try. I’ve asked my family to help. They’ll take turns looking after Ben for me.”
“I’ll look after my son. I feel as if I’m not allowed to have any time with him.”
He frowned. That hadn’t occurred to him. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, but his care is my responsibility right now, according to our agreement—”
“Our blackmail arrangement.”
“Maybe we’ve argued enough.”
“I think you’re still purposely trying to keep Ben and me apart.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” She set down the pen in her hand. “Because you still imagine I might try to turn him against you?”
“No.” He did a double take. “Should I worry about that?”
“No.” She shook her head as if he were the one who was crazy. “Why would I try to hurt my own child? He already loves you.”
Owen felt as if he were warming from the inside out, and a sweet sense of anticipation washed over him. He hadn’t felt that since Lilah had sent him away, a small, annoying voice whispered in his head. The two of them had agreed to keep their relationship casual, but there was nothing casual about how much Owen had missed her when it ended. He cleared his throat. “Of course you should see Ben anytime you want. But when you’re working or busy, don’t worry. I’ve spoken to my family about your concerns for Ben. They’ll keep a close eye on him.”
“Okay.”
Still the doubt. He tried harder. “Lilah, I’m glad you’re here with him.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Are you?”
“Ben’s way more relaxed when you’re here.”
“Okay.” She picked up her pen, her expression shutting him out. “Is that all you wanted to discuss?”
“That’s it for me.” Except he possessed a contradictory nature that wouldn’t allow him to walk away on her terms. “Are you planning to look around some more while you’re here?”
“Look around?”
It annoyed him that she was pretending not to understand what he meant. “For artisans like Butch.”
She frowned, and Owen suspected she didn’t want to leave Ben alone with him or his family any more than she had to.
“You’re missing an opportunity,” Owen said.
“I appreciate you introducing me to Butch,” she said. “I really feel lucky to have access to his work, but I’m not here to scout new artists. I want to be with Ben.”
“I admit I was a bully, and I’m sorry about that. No one’s trying to block you from Ben, but if you can find more work you like while you’re here, why shouldn’t you? The folks in these mountains really could be good for your business.”
“And you’re not trying to get me off guard?”
“By leading you to people who do good work? I’m not trying to hurt you any more, Lilah.”
She didn’t answer, and she obviously didn’t believe him. Only time would show her he wasn’t lying. As her stricken gaze drilled into his back, he headed out the door as if he didn’t mind losing his temper and hurting a woman’s feelings.
* * *
“MOM SAID YOU’RE going out.” Chad spoke over a plate heaped with pancakes, eggs and bacon.
“Yes. I’m taking Owen’s advice and visiting a few of the local artists.” Lilah admired Chad’s stamina. How any kid could put down that much food...
The smell of his breakfast, along with grits and homemade biscuits, still lingered in the air. All the Gages worked so hard they could afford to eat a huge meal in the morning.
“I get to play with Chad today,” Ben said. “He’s my bro-cou-uncle.”
“That’s right.” She looked over his head at the high school senior. “And Uncle Chad is going to keep a good eye on you and show you fun things around the farm.”
“I promise,” Chad said, as much to her as to Ben.
“We’re going to feed the goats and then take a hike up the mountain.”
“How far up the mountain?” Lilah’s anxiety started to kick in.
“To the chair lift,” he said. “One of the resorts has a lift that glides almost to the edge of our property. It’s a good walk. I figure it’ll tire Ben out.”
“But you won’t let him run ahead of you? Out of your sight?” She tried to think what else might happen. “You won’t leave him alone with the goats? Or go near those cows on his own.”
“He’s scared of cows.” Chad speared another mouthful of pancakes. “I won’t do any of what you just said. And I’ll nursemaid that poor kid as if I gave birth to him.” He looked at his nephew. “That’d be a good thing, buddy. I’d make an excellent mom.”
Ben just giggled. “Mommy, you should come with us. We’re going to feed Gomer and take a big, long walk.” He spread both arms as if he were measuring it off for her.
“Sounds like fun,” she said, and she was so reluctant to walk out the door, she had to wonder if Owen might have a point about her being overprotective. Her imagination ran wild too easily. “Stay with Uncle Chad, and make sure you don’t get lost.”
“I love Gomer. He eats food right out of my hand, and he only tried to eat my glove once.”
Did goats actually bite humans? She swallowed. It hadn’t happened. It wouldn’t happen. No way would she spoil Ben’s fun by canceling her plans to go out for a few hours and scout for work for the gallery.
“It’s almost like you have a pet goat,” she said.
“Can I have a puppy?”
Chad laughed, and Lilah thought about collapsing into her own breakfast plate.
“No puppy, buddy. I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to take care of a puppy the way we should.”
“But I really want a puppy.”
“Some day, when we have lots of time to look after a little dog, we’ll do that.”
“When I’m this many?” He held up both hands, spreading his fingers wide.
“When you’re ten, we’ll think seriously about getting a puppy.”
“Okay.” He pumped a fist, and Lilah got up to take her plate to the kitchen and then gather her coat and bag.
“Chad, you have my number?” She tried to remember all the things she should say to a sitter she didn’t entirely trust.
“I have it. Mom has it. Even Ben has your number, but no one will need to call you.”
She had to make herself stop hovering. “Have a good day, buddy. And Chad. I’ll see you both when I get back tonight.”
“Ben and I’ll have a great time,” Chad promised.
“Goodbye, Mommy. I hope you find lots of stuff.”
“Thanks, baby.” She kissed her son’s forehead and grabbed another quick hug before she hurried to the door, hoping she wouldn’t be tempted to turn back. “You can call me if you want to, anytime.”
“Be careful on the mountain roads.” Suzannah appeared in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, her arms full of linens. “They’re wet and slippery today. I heard we might have snow flurries this afternoon.”
“I’m used to snow,” Lilah said.
“Yes.” Celia appeared from the living room and headed to the closet in the mudroom for her own coat. “But you’re not used to Tennessean drivers in snow on mountain roads. We either creep along, or we fly like daredevils.”
“That’s the first thing I’ve heard any of you say that isn’t totally Tennessee-is-paradise.”
“You mean you don’t think it is?” Celia laughed. “I worry about your judgment, Lilah, but you’ll fall in love with this place. No one can resist Bliss.”
Lilah pulled her knit cap
around her ears and headed for the door. This place was going to be part of Ben’s life and therefore part of hers. She’d better see what lay beyond the inn and Owen’s clinic project.
He’d lent her his truck for today. She’d never driven a truck before, but if she found any pieces she couldn’t resist, it would be perfect. Driving a truck couldn’t be that different from the van she usually used.
She put on her seat belt, started the engine and turned on the navigation on her phone. She was visiting a small town called Halcomb, where an artist who worked in ceramics had agreed to see her.
She drove out of Bliss, onto a divided four-lane highway nestled between naked hardwoods, evergreens glistening beneath partially thawed ice, and sheer walls of limestone and granite. For once, she let herself enjoy the mountain beauty, sinking into a feeling of contentment. It would be easy to fall in love with the primeval purity of the Smokies. She pulled into an overlook to take photos.
In the crisp mountain air, her fears slowly crept away. Ben had been on the farm for a week or so, and he already acted as if this place was in his blood, too. He treated the inn as if it belonged to him, and he explored the land around the sprawling yellow house with complete confidence. Even she could see that was a measure of his happiness.
And his increasing maturity since Owen had found them.
She put worrisome thoughts out of her head. Chad would look after him today. He’d promised.
Her navigation system led her down doubtful roads as snowflakes began to splat against the windshield. At last, she turned up a narrow lane through an apple orchard, which gave way to arbors of brown vines.
She parked in the driveway that simply stopped in front of a little white clapboard house, where a wizened man in overalls and a big, gray jacket that matched his fedora waited.
“Miz Bantry?” he asked as she got out.
She pushed her hands through the sleeves of her coat and shoved her keys into the pocket. “Please, call me Lilah. Are you Mr. Clanton?”
“Robert,” he said. “You want to look at my pots?”
“I sure do. Everyone in the shops in Bliss loves your work. In fact, they were all sold out.”
“Yeah. I work when I want to. Rest when I don’t.”
“Sounds like the perfect job.”
He stood and eased himself down the steps, holding the balustrade as if his joints hurt. “I have a little workshop out back. My wife and daughter got tired of my mess. It’s funny. They treat me in town like I’m some genius, but Bella and Sally don’t want to sweep around me anymore.”
Lilah grinned. “I hear that pretty often.”
“Now, you have a shop in New York? Can’t say I ever imagined my old pots would be showing up in New York—unless some crazy tourist took them home.”
“I actually run a shop in Vermont, but we’d probably put your work in the store in New York first, because we have a wider client base there. More people would see your pieces, and the word would spread faster.”
As they went around the back of the house, a dog appeared from his little house beneath a walnut tree. He woofed at them, clearly uncertain whether to defend his domain against this stranger or continue his nap.
“He’s like me,” Robert said. “Can’t really be bothered much anymore.”
The dog eased toward Lilah across the tidy yard.
“Or maybe he likes you.” Robert stretched out a hand and patted the dog’s head as they reached a wooden shed, fronted by another small, wet porch.
A ceramic wind chime hung above the door, tinkling a joyful greeting via circles of smiling moons and glowering suns, a blowing North wind, and a crying face that symbolized rain. Hanging below all the other pieces was a flurry of snowflakes that brushed against each other in a soft song.
“I have a few of these,” Robert said as she looked up. “I change them out with the seasons.”
“This is beyond beautiful. If you ever make something similar, I’d love to buy one for my house.”
“I can do that, but they don’t always look the same,” he said.
“I’m glad. I already know I’m going to love your work, Robert.”
He opened the door, and she walked inside to find a storeroom of lovely pieces—serving dishes with ruffled edges, some with an inner bowl for dips. More wind chimes hanging from the ceiling. Ewers with delicate handles and matching primitive bowls.
But the pieces that took her breath away were the pots that bore faces—happy faces, sad, angry, frightened and soothing faces. Families of cylindrical pots that sat on fat bottoms or reached for the sky with long necks.
“Robert, you have a soul inside you.”
“Sometimes troubled,” he said. “You can see all of it in those.” He pointed to the expressive faces on his work.
“Why aren’t these in the stores in Bliss? They all said they’d love to have more of your work.”
“I take it in when I feel like it. I haven’t felt like it in a while, and these are personal. I wouldn’t have brought you in here if we hadn’t had a good talk on the phone before you came.”
She looked at him, taking in the hands buried in his pockets, the face lined by life. His hair, an unkempt white mess, still thick, shooting in all directions.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked him, surprising herself. “Is everything all right with you?”
He stared at her like a kitten who’d been rubbed the wrong way. “Pardon?”
“I thought maybe you had a reason for keeping all this lovely work to yourself.” She’d gone too far, stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong.
“Not as I know of.” Not as he was willing to tell her. He went to the end of the table. “What if I gave you five of them? You could send them to New York, and we’ll see how they do in your fancy shop.”
“I’d love five. Which ones?”
“You choose,” he said.
It felt like some sort of test, but she didn’t want to fail. She backed up and reached for one of the wind chimes, sliding her fingertips over lambs and goat kids and puppies and kittens. They were so delicate, baked to muted, beautiful colors. “May I start with this?”
He nodded. “You got a baby?”
“A boy, who’d never ask for lambs and kids and kittens, unless they were real. He might think this is too babyish for him.”
“Boys like real pets. Maybe he’ll be a farmer.”
Thank goodness she didn’t have to worry about that for a few years. “If you make something with trucks and motorcycles or airplanes and trains, I’d grab it right out of your hands.”
He rocked back on his heels. “I’ll call that a commission.”
She moved to the pots on the tables. She chose one that looked as if it had seen a ghost. She pulled it forward on the table. Next, she picked one that had clearly found its true love, another that had never been more sad, and one that simply looked at peace. “What do you think?”
He moved the sad one back into its spot. “You’re not a lady who needs him right now.” He touched the peaceful face. “Wish I had a matching set of these, but I think this one will do for you.” He pulled forward a pot with a feminine face on the verge of smiling. Maybe Lilah was making up the stories about the pots, but this face seemed to be in the midst of learning joy.
From above, rain tapped on the tin roof. The pale yellow light in the room gave Lilah a sense of peace that felt unfamiliar, maybe tentative, but that she embraced.
“Perfect,” she said. “How I’ll let any of them be sold is beyond me, but I’d love these for the gallery.”
“Let me wrap them up,” Robert said, going behind the table to find large pieces of sturdy wrapping paper.
“I’ll help you.” She took a big square of the paper, too, and smoothed it out on another table. “Wrapping and ship
ping was my first job when I went to work with my family.”
“I’ll trust you, then.”
“Thank you, Robert. I almost wish I could come work for you. I love your place here, and your work touches me.” Maybe even more than Owen’s had when she’d first met him.
He grinned. “I’d like that, too, except Bella wouldn’t go for it, and I never enjoy when I have to explain stuff to Bella.”
* * *
LILAH SAW A couple more people that afternoon. She took photos of the man who worked in aluminum and steel, shaping objects from his childhood, including a beehive and a red wagon with paint almost etched into its shiny sides. His work wasn’t Lilah’s thing, but she thought the items might appeal to her brother.
Next, she visited a woman who welded animals out of rebar. Lilah bought a sheep, a goat and a chicken for Suzannah. They’d be perfect at the inn. She took a few more to send to New York. Folks up there liked pieces like these for their country homes, or even for a small courtyard garden in the city.
Still floating on this unexpected stream of contentment, she drove back to Bliss through gentle flurries. She turned up the music and sang along inside the warm truck.
She ought to ski a little while she was here. She rarely found time in Vermont, which was ridiculous, but she hated leaving Ben with sitters. Maybe he could try a lesson, too.
It would be good for her to find a few pluses for getting in touch with the other side of his family.
She hit traffic in the center of Bliss. Skiers coming down for shopping or a bite to eat. Local residents heading out of town to their homes, hidden in the hollows of the mountains.
Lilah breathed deep as she waited, totally relaxed, through a traffic light. She was happy. Happy. Who could have imagined?
The worst had happened. Ben’s father had finally found him. Owen would never trust her again. He’d blackmailed her into this trip to Tennessee, and still, she felt happy.
As she drove through the small, snow-dusted streets, she realized how much she’d enjoyed the afternoon on her own, exploring the Tennessee countryside. Natural enough. She’d been so busy as a single mom that she’d never taken much time for herself.