Losing Ladd

by Dianne Venetta

  There was no doubt in Cal’s.

  But Daddy couldn’t be still pining after all these years. He had a family. Four sons and a wife who loved him. That meant something to him, didn’t it? Reflecting on his childhood, Cal couldn’t recall any discord between his parents. They didn’t fight and argue, were always there for Cal and his brothers. Sure, first love burned hot in a man’s heart, but eventually it turned to embers. A man moved on, found the woman of his adult dreams and built a life with her. Like Cal had done with Caroline.

  And now Annie. You made a commitment to a woman and devoted yourself fully until life stepped in the way or until “death do us part.” It was the way of families, bonds that tied the generations together. Cal couldn’t imagine keeping any love letters for all these years. It was one thing to understand the rapture and power of first love, but to keep it alive and well and stored in the attic of the home you shared with your wife? Was Daddy insane?

  Maybe he forgot them. Maybe Daddy had stowed them away when he was young and invincible and plain forgot about them over the years. The house had been in his family for generations before him. It was possible. Cal hoped that was the case. Either way, it was a topic he planned to discuss with him. Him and Delaney.

  But it was a discussion that would have to wait for another day. Tonight was Serenity Scape and Emily was dying to go. The minute she’d heard there were going to be banjo players, she lost it. Banjos were something she’d only seen in the movies. To see them in real life would be amazing. Cal smiled. Well, they lived and breathed right here in Tennessee he’d told her, and she’d get to see them in the flesh.

  Slowing for a red light, Cal’s attention was drawn to a big red truck. Shiny, it looked brand new. Don’t see too many sweet rides like that one around these parts. A man came out of the gas station’s mini-mart, stuffing a wallet in his back pocket as he walked toward the truck. He was wearing a light purple shirt, his blond hair shining in the sunlight. Fair-skinned, medium build, he looked about forty. Cal honed in on the man. Something struck him as familiar. He watched as the guy plucked the gas pump from his vehicle and hooked it back in place.

  Cal’s insides hardened. That was Jeremiah Ladd. The light above turned green and Cal jammed his foot on the accelerator. Swerving from his turn lane, he barreled across the intersection and into the parking lot. As she slammed his brakes, his truck lurched with a squeal of tires. Cal leapt out and stormed over to Jeremiah.

  Alarm seized Jeremiah’s features as Cal approached.

  “I want to have a word with you, Ladd.”

  Surprise cracked in Jeremiah’s gaze. “Well, what do you know? Cal Foster!”

  “This isn’t a pleasure visit,” he snapped, hit by a whiff of gasoline. “Annie told me about your visit to the house, and I’m here to warn you it was your last. Stay away from my family or you’ll be dealing with me.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “Jack said you were playing big man these days.”

  “Jack?” Cal asked, taken aback the two had spoken. When had Jeremiah and Jack reconnected?

  “He said your new job was going to your head, and I guess he was right.”

  “Forget about Jack,” he thrust, getting in Jeremiah’s face. “It’s me you need to be concerned with—me and my family. I know what you were up to last time you came to town, and I’m here to tell you it won’t fly. Not this time.”

  “Save your idle threats, Cal. You don't have it in you. Jack maybe, but not you.” Jeremiah dropped a brief glance to Cal’s chest. “Never did.”

  “Go ahead and test me,” Cal grumbled, longing for Jeremiah to start something. Right here, right now, in broad daylight. “Go ahead and see exactly how much has changed.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Jeremiah bit back. “But speaking of Jack, I ran into him at Whiskey Joe’s the other night. Seems he and I are of like mind when it comes to Delaney and that Parker kid.” Jeremiah chuckled, pausing before he opened his car door. “Guess it’s true what they say, ‘what goes around comes around.’”

  “It is,” Cal said evenly, watching Jeremiah slide into his truck. “Mark my word.”

  “Thanks for coming tonight,” Felicity said, walking alongside Travis as they headed for the Serenity Scape bonfire. “No problem,” he replied. “You know I think it’s pretty cool what they do.”

  Held every Sunday night, the event was one of her favorites. Musicians assembled to play pieces ranging from simple and country to complex and sophisticated, using instruments common to the region. Malcolm Ward had invited Felicity to perform a flute solo one evening, and while she had been nervous at first, unaccustomed to performing in public, she’d lost herself in the composition, playing three encore pieces for a delighted group of guests. Travis had to hand it to Mr. Ward. He knew his venue. Even to Travis’ untrained ear, music seemed to dance in the sky, float through the trees as it drifted upward into the starry night. And while Felicity thought the cooler evening temperature would adversely affect the sound and pitch of the instruments, it didn’t. Not to any significant degree. Both agreed the music sounded great.

  Though to be honest, Travis would rather be discussing his findings with Mr. Harris than hanging around listening to music. He had lost his tag on Jeremiah’s whereabouts, but he knew he could pick up the tail any time he wanted. He knew where Jeremiah was staying. It would only be a matter of waiting for him to show before he could follow him again. But he couldn’t talk to Mr. Harris because Felicity insisted Travis be a part of the festivities tonight. Cal Foster’s daughter would be in tow and everyone should meet her. While Travis didn’t particularly care about meeting some twelve-year-old girl, he knew Felicity did. More importantly, he knew Felicity felt he should want to meet the girl.

  Because she was family. His family.

  Sort of. Travis thought it a stretch to call his brother’s wife’s stepfather’s kid a member of his family, but Felicity didn’t. She stretched the ties and looped the knots, and so long as she didn’t choke him with it, Travis didn’t mind. Lately Felicity seemed hell bent on getting him and Troy to make amends, which made for tension. It wasn’t like he hated his brother. He didn’t. But he wasn’t interested in closing the space between them either. Not yet. Not until Troy proved himself worthy. Stable.

  In order to do that, Troy needed to secure his freedom. If Travis helped Troy beat the charges against him, maybe Felicity would see that he didn’t hate his brother. Only his choices.

  He held a branch from her path as they walked, the scent of pine served up by a misty breeze. It wasn’t cold by any stretch of the word, but when the sun dipped below the horizon, so did the temperature, even this time of year. Soon he’d be headed back to Nashville for his second year at Vanderbilt, and the winter weather wouldn’t be far behind.

  “So did you ever find anything out about who paid Jeremiah’s debt?” Felicity asked.

  “Yes and no. It was someone around here, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint it.”

  “Here?”

  “The money was transferred from a local bank.”

  “But they didn’t give you a name?”

  “They don’t give you names. The routing number indicated the wire transfer originated from here, but the sender’s name was blocked.”

  “Blocked?”

  “Yeah, like someone didn’t want anyone to know they were sending the money.”

  “So it could have been anyone,” she said, her eyes filling with disappointment.

  “Anyone,” he repeated, though he had a feeling Mr. Harris would be able to track the information further than he could. He and Mr. Ward seemed to have their ways. Hopefully, their methods were legal. In the past he’d believed them capable of crossing that line. Until Ernie Ladd confessed to hiring a couple of thugs to beat up his son and leave him for dead in the streets of town, rumor had it Mr. Harris and Mr. Ward were the responsible party. It’d been an easy rumor to digest.

  “Do you think Mr. Foster can help?”

  “Cal?”


  Felicity nodded. “His daddy owns a bank in town. Maybe he could look into it for us.”

  “And break half a dozen privacy laws in the process? No thanks.” Travis wanted the information but not at the expense of jail time. Kicking a stone from the trail, he picked up the scent of wood smoke. The green landscape was drenched in hazy shadows, the sky a heavy purple and gold. Nips of misty air signaled that festivities would begin soon. “I’m gonna talk to Mr. Harris about it later. Maybe one of his people can find out.”

  “Will he be at the bonfire?”

  “Not sure. The girl at the front desk didn’t seem to know where he was.”

  Rounding a bend in the trail, the clearing for the bonfire was visible about twenty yards in the distance. A few hotel guests were mingling near the fire pit, the glow of flame lighting up their figures. A niggle of impatience pulled at him. Sitting around for the next two hours listening to nightscapes was going to be a challenge. Maybe Mr. Harris and Miss Delaney would be here. It would at least give the evening some purpose.

  But as Felicity and Travis emerged from the trail, his spirits sank. There was no sign of them. Travis searched faces of the people gathered around a considerable fire in full flame. Those in attendance were comprised mostly of guests. Makeshift log benches were assembled around fire. Casey and Troy had taken up residence while Cal Foster and his wife Annie stood nearby with a young girl, presumably his daughter. Circling the perimeter, Travis spotted Casey’s Aunt Lacy. She married Mr. Ward last summer and now the two had a baby. On the opposite side of the fire, she was carrying her baby and pointing at flames, her face aglow as she spoke near the child’s ear. Lingering on her, Travis always thought it weird how much she looked like Casey’s mom without being a twin. Both women had the exact same blue eyes and white skin. Both had the exact same black hair, kinda like Casey, but Miss Lacy was always dressed pretty fancy, even though tonight she wore a short skirt and boots. He guessed the women were attractive enough, except he preferred blondes.

  “There she is,” Felicity said excitedly, tugging Travis to look as she pointed. “C’mon, let’s go say hi.”

  Groaning inwardly, Travis obliged. Where was Mr. Ward? Travis doubted Mr. Foster would be working the event, not with his daughter in town. Who was officially in charge?

  “Hi, Felicity!” Casey waved with one hand, the other cradling her sleeping infant, the baby wrapped in a lightweight flannel blanket. A plaid mix of blues and reds, the material blended in with Casey’s jeans and denim button-down as she held the baby close to her breast, the ends of her dark hair brushing over the kid’s body. Sporting his usual T-shirt and jeans, Troy flanked her side. From beneath his black hat, Troy’s eyes made a bead on him and Felicity.

  Walking over, Felicity greeted them happily. “Hi, Casey. Hi, Troy.”

  “Hey, Felicity,” Troy replied, more nod of his head. There was no similar greeting extended to his brother.

  Whatever. Travis could care less. He was only here because he had to be.

  Bending at the waist, Felicity touched the bundled baby in Casey’s arms. “How’s Cassidy Jo?”

  “She’s good. I was hoping she’d be awake to hear the music.”

  Felicity laughed. “Oh, there’s time. When the fiddle player starts playing, I doubt she’ll be able to sleep through it!”

  Casey smiled. “You’re probably right.”

  “Where’s Mr. Ward?” Travis asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be here?”

  “He’s coming,” Casey replied, absently tucking the corner of her daughter’s blanket beneath a fold. “Aunt Lacy said he was held up at the hotel but he’s on his way.”

  Good. Travis would get his opportunity after all. While it wasn’t Mr. Harris, Mr. Ward would surely do.

  “So when do we get to meet your new sister?” Felicity asked, stealing a glance toward the trio standing several yards away. Mr. Foster was casual tonight in jeans and boots, while Annie’s mom wore a bright blue dress with frilly layers of material hanging down the front. Beside them the girl was sporting a brand new pair of cowboy boots and skinny jeans, a summer plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up her forearms. Of average height for her age with stick-straight hair, she looked the same as most girls her age. Travis assumed she bought the outfit specifically for tonight since he doubted they wore plaid and boots in the city.

  Casey rose from the bench, Troy mirroring her movements with a hand to assist his wife. “How about right now? I’ll introduce you.”

  Following Casey over, Travis noted the girl perk up as the four of them approached. He was struck by an intelligence dancing within her brown eyes. It was a maturity that seemed beyond her years.

  “Emily, I want you to meet my cousin, Felicity.”

  The girl was quick with a smile as she reached out a hand. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Felicity replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too,” she said, a curious eye darted his way.

  “This is my boyfriend, Travis. He’s Troy’s brother—if you couldn’t already guess,” Felicity teased.

  “Wow... You look exactly like him.”

  Not exactly. Anyone who knew them could easily tell them apart, but Travis merely replied, “Nice to meet you.”

  Emily giggled, erasing any maturity her gaze might have bestowed.

  “Glad you could come out for the event,” Cal said to the two of them. “It should be a lively evening. I’ve heard these fellas play before, and they really know their instruments.”

  From her studies, Felicity had learned that although the fiddle had been around the mountains for centuries, it had its roots in Scotland, Ireland, even France. And Mr. Foster was right—when the fiddles broke in, the fun broke out. Actually a violin, the difference came in how you played the instrument. Folks in the country played the violin with high-energy, and lots of movement. Symphony players worked the strings more methodically, resulting in sweeping notes that lingered and carried. Felicity figured that’s where the name originated. Someone “fiddling around” with a violin gave birth to a brand new genre of play. Certainly a great first concert for a girl of Emily’s age.

  “So,” Felicity began, interested in getting to know more about Casey’s new kid sister, “what have you been doing since you’ve been in town? Have you had a chance to ride horses?”

  “We’re going tomorrow,” she said. “My dad and Annie are taking me for a trail ride.”

  Felicity looked to Cal and asked, “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all. We’d love it.” He turned to Emily and said, “Felicity is an excellent rider. Been riding since she was a little girl.”

  “You weren’t afraid to get on a horse?” Emily asked.

  Felicity laughed. “Not a bit! When you grow up around horses, they’re no scarier than a puppy dog.”

  Catching sight of Mr. Ward, Cal excused himself. “I need to speak with Malcolm. Ya’ll get seated and I’ll join you in a minute.” Annie and Emily took their seats, Casey and Troy beside them. Felicity lowered into place, tugging Travis to do likewise. “Aren’t you sitting?”

  Staring after Mr. Foster and Mr. Ward, he replied, “Yeah. But first, I want to grab a word with Mr. Ward.

  “What for?” Felicity asked. “The show is about to begin.”

  The two musicians were placing a pair of stools beyond the circle of logs, an open area designated for performers. Another fellow had joined the two fiddlers, a surfboard-shaped piece of wood in his hand along with what looked like a drumstick. “It won’t take long,” Travis said and headed for the men before Felicity could stop him.

  “Travis!” she called after him.

  Ignoring her, he exited the seating area and slowed to a stop near the men.

  Casey leaned close. “Is everything okay?”

  “No,” Felicity snapped, staring at the backside of her boyfriend. “Actually, it’s not.”

  “What’s up?”

  Watching Travis as he stood idle near Mr. Foster an
d Mr. Ward, one of the musicians joined them. What did Travis have to do with them? He didn’t work at the hotel. He was over there, because he didn’t want to be here, with her, with Casey and the Fosters. With Troy. “I don’t get him. It’s like he’s so detached these days, like he doesn’t care about the stuff I care about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, coming here...hanging out with family.” Felicity slapped her palms to her jean-clad knees. “He acts like it’s a chore, like I’m forcing him to come.” And she didn’t appreciate it. If he had better things to do, then say so.

  “Are you?”

  Felicity drew back. “No, I’m not forcing him. I invited him to take part.” Glancing back to Travis, his body rigid in the dark of night, reflected shades of golden light swaying over the black of his shirt, she added, “He can do whatever he wants, for all I care. Including stay home.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Because it isn’t.” A cold certainty of decision tunneled into Felicity’s heart. It had been something she’d been considering of late, ever since Troy spent the night in jail. Travis had approved his parents’ decision. He knew his brother was innocent of the charges, yet he agreed they should let him sit in jail to teach him a lesson. The way Felicity saw it, Troy wasn’t the one in need of a lesson. Travis was. He was so arrogant these days, as though he knew better than anyone what was right, what was wrong. Felicity was sick of it. It was fine to be rational and logical but quite another to be rude and judgmental. “I think I’m going to ask him for a break when we go back to school.”

  “You are?” Casey asked, her tone of disbelief echoing in her gaze.

  “I think it’s for the better. If Travis can’t share in the things I think are important, what’s the point?”

  Casey followed Felicity’s gaze to Travis and the other men. The musician was excusing himself, but Travis remained. With them, Felicity mused, not her. Summer break flashed in her mind’s eye as she drifted in thought. She’d been so happy to see him at Ashley’s Memorial Day party, their ride the next day...the private time they spent hanging at Zack’s Falls. It had been wonderful, amazing. They’d caught up on school, planned the entire summer together, talked about their upcoming sophomore year... But now?