Chapter Twenty-Two
Nick left at sunrise, per Delaney’s strict orders. Where he and Felicity might see no harm in her having “someone” in her life, she wasn’t about to move the man in after one night. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Lusty desire pulled at her. But a future together?
It was too much. It was too soon. There were too many things to see about before she started entertaining a new relationship, the first of which was Ernie. Delaney’s chest constricted. The thought of Ernie dying unleashed a tide of memories. It took her back to the last days of her mother’s life, when she knew the end was near. It had been agonizing for Delaney, yet her mother had been oddly calm, as if she knew. She hadn’t told Delaney she felt it was time. She’d said her goodbyes earlier in the day, when Delaney had brought Felicity by for a visit, and those were the last words they shared.
Felicity had been six at the time and during the visit, drew pictures of heaven and God for her grandmother, as if she knew, and wanted to assure her all would be well.
Delaney had simply talked. She shared her heart, shared her dreams. It was the only thing she could do at that point. When Ashley told her the next day her mother was gone, Delaney had been crushed. Her mother didn’t include her in her last moments?
Ashley told her Susannah wanted her daughter’s last memories to be of life and love, not death and sadness. Did Ernie feel a sense of calmness as his last days neared? Had he told Albert, the one person most likely to be at his side?
Delaney shook her head and wrapped the last loaf of cornbread, sliding it into the paper bag with the others. It wasn’t hers to decide. What mattered is that they were here for him, that they made sure his last days on earth would pass as easy as possible.
At the sound of Felicity’s arrival home from school, Delaney set the bag of bread aside and reached for a plate of fried gizzards. “Don’t take your boots off,” she called out. The bread was still warm and she wanted to hurry and get the food over to Ernie, but she had been waiting for her daughter.
Felicity poked her head inside the door. “Did you call me?”
“I did,” Delaney said. “Keep your boots on. We’re going to Ernie’s.”
Lifting her nose, Felicity sniffed the air. A gleam entered her eyes. “Chicken gizzards?”
“They’re his favorite.” Delaney rarely made them, due to the odor. Since the cabin had few windows to open for ventilation, the scent had a way of soaking into every nook and cranny, lingering for days. But if fried gizzards couldn’t bring a smile to Ernie’s face, nothing would. “I want you to come with me,” she told her daughter.
“Okay,” she replied happily.
The two headed down the path. In the open clearing, Felicity stopped just shy of the creek. Placing a boot on the bridge she stared at her mother. Clouds passed overhead, the babble of water the only sound between them.
“What?” Delaney asked her.
“Should we say we know?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well...” A light breeze blew the hair from Felicity’s face as concern crowded her gaze. “Didn’t Ashley say she wasn’t supposed to know?”
“Foolishness. I know, and he’s going to know I know.”
“Are you sure? Don’t you think he might get mad?”
Delaney wanted to laugh. “Let him. Ernie gets mad at everything.” Ornery old fool. But it was probably his temperament that had kept him alive this long.
“If you say so.” Bag of cornbread in hand, Felicity fell into step and followed her mom over the arched wooden bridge and to the house. Up the steps they trekked and Delaney rapped on the screen door. “Ernie!” Without waiting for a reply, she entered.
Albert looked up from his chair. He spied the plate in her hand and his eyes lit up. “You brought us some vittles?”
“Gizzards and cornbread,” she told him. Glancing up the stairs, she asked, “Where’s Ernie?”
Ernie hobbled out of the kitchen, cane in hand. Pounding the end of it onto the floor he said, “I’m right here.” When he saw Felicity, his demeanor softened a degree. He glanced between the women and asked, “What do you want?”
“We brought you some food.”
He eyed the plate and bag like they concealed a rattlesnake. “What for?”
Delaney walked over to him and lowered her voice. “We know about...your condition.”
Ernie’s eyes nearly burst from his skull. His skin flushed red as he demanded, “Who told you? That’s privileged information!”
“Doesn’t matter. We know and we’re here for you.” She extended the plate toward him. “We made you some gizzards and cornbread.”
Felicity took that as her cue to approach. “Here, Uncle Ernie.” Her voice broke, tears lined her eyes. “Fresh-baked cornbread.”
“I didn’t want nobody knowin’ about this!” he wailed.
Delaney tried to calm him. “It’s okay, Ernie. We’re family.”
“No it ain’t!” He jabbed a crooked finger toward Felicity. “Look at her! She’s cryin’!”
Felicity had a heart of gold but not an ounce of stoicism to her name. “She’s upset. As am I.” Delaney inwardly shrank from the wrath twisting his features. The man look possessed.
“No you’re not! You want me dead! Don’t lie. You think you can take the property easier without me in the picture!”
“Ernie, stop.” Delaney swept a glance around the room, set the plate down on the dining table to free her hands, in the remote possibility she needed to defend herself from physical attack. “We’re here because we care.”
“You don’t care about me—never did!”
Felicity, bag clenched to her midsection, stood shaking, an utter look of horror pasted on her face. By contrast, Albert sat placidly in his ratty chair, hands folded over his enormous coverall-clad stomach.
“Please.” Delaney tried to quiet Ernie. “Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?”
His eyes tore into Felicity. Visibly struggling with his emotion, he worked hard to reel himself in, his thin lips trembling. To Delaney, it looked as if Ernie had so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things he wanted Felicity to know. Then his gaze turned glassy red, and Delaney’s heart ached at the sight of him. Even from ten feet away, she could hear him breathing, his breath raspy and labored. For the first time, she recognized the signs of physical stress. Ernie didn’t have long.
For a long moment, the old man stood rigid in place, looking from child to mother, mother to child. Delaney wanted to intercede, to placate him, but how? It was obvious what he thought of her. For a long moment, the old man stood rigid in place.
“Ernie, we do care,” Delaney insisted, keeping her plea soft, non-threatening. “We’ve had our differences, but it doesn’t mean we don’t care what happens to you. We’re family.” Doesn’t that mean anything to you? she wanted to ask, but refrained. Her goal was not to provoke him. It was to provide compassion as he faced his last days.
Ernie stalked over to his recliner and took his seat in silence.
Did she dare try and take a seat herself?
Felicity suddenly walked straight over to her great uncle, leaned over and kissed the top of his bald head. “I love you, Uncle Ernie.”
Tears swamped Delaney’s lids.
Felicity set the cornbread down on the coffee table before him and asked, “Would you like me to go get my flute?”
Ernie didn’t respond.
Albert asked hopefully. “Is that cornbread, you got there?”
“It is,” Felicity answered him. She wiped her eyes and placed it on the sofa table. “There’s enough for you two to share. If you’d like, I can bring down some more later, when I come to play my flute.” She turned to Ernie. “If it’s okay with you that I still come...”
He looked up at her and Delaney swore he was about to cry. “Of course I want you to come play for me, child.”
Felicity smiled. “Thank you.”
If her daughter had
won the Nobel Peace Prize, Delaney wouldn’t have been more proud of her. Her daughter was strong and selfless, gracious and generous—but mostly, Felicity was pure love. Delaney went over, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and admired how her slender frame stood erect and firm within her grasp.
Ernie hardened as he turned his attention to Delaney. “Ain’t you gonna tell me about our court date?”
“I’m not,” she returned quietly.
“Why ain’t you?” he demanded, as though angry she wasn’t rising to the bait.
“It’s not important.”
Ernie practically came out of his chair. “It sure seemed important last week!”
She nodded. “That was last week.”
Ernie scowled at her. “I don’t believe you.”
She shrugged and bowed her head, defeat settling heavy upon her shoulders. Demanding that a dying man head to court, so she could fight him for title to the property didn’t seem right. His last days should be spent with family, but in a good way, not haunted by feuds and greed. The police had called this morning and informed her that Clem was in custody and she could pick up her backpack at the station.
With Clem out of the picture and in no way able to get his hands on the property, Delaney had to resign herself to the facts. If Ernie wanted to will the property to Felicity, he would. If not, who else? Jeremiah? Albert?
It was out of her control. But either way, fighting her mother’s brother to the edge of his grave was not going to happen. Delaney turned to go. Felicity turned with her.
“You can’t pay the taxes,” Ernie muttered behind her. “You want this place so dad-burned bad, but you can’t even pay for it.”
Pay the taxes? Delaney pivoted slowly, a slew of resentment rising hot in her breast.
“Do you even know how much they are?” he asked.
“Do you mean yearly, or the balance you haven’t paid in the last three years?” she asked, unable to keep the anger from slipping into her tone.
“I got better things to do with my money,” he grumbled.
“Than pay the taxes?” she asked, incredulous to his total disregard.
“I’m donatin’ my money to breast cancer.”
Delaney almost fell over. The breath emptied from her lungs. She grabbed hold of Felicity, as though she needed to steady herself. Breast cancer? Was he serious?
Ernie looked away, avoiding the onslaught he must surely expect to be slung at him this very minute and with good reason. Breast cancer killed his sister. The same breast cancer diagnosis he refused to believe, the treatment he refused to fund. Yet now he was going to support cancer research with the money that should be going to property taxes? Taxes to save the property he’d promised to bequeath to his sister’s daughter and granddaughter?
Delaney felt nauseous.
“Mom,” Felicity asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, sadness curbing her anger. “Fine.”
Ernie reached over to the side table alongside his chair and pulled a white envelope from the lower compartment. He thrust it toward her. “Here.”
“What’s that?”
“What you’ve been wantin’ so badly.”
Delaney walked over and took the envelope from him, turning it over in her hands. There was no name, no address. It was completely blank.
“It’s title to the land.”
Delaney’s jaw went slack. Was he kidding? Her eyes went quickly to Felicity as she slid a shaky finger to loosen the flap.
“It’s in Felicity’s name,” he said pointedly. “It belongs to her, not you. And she don’t get it until I die.”
Delaney looked inside and couldn’t believe it. Was the title to Ladd Springs really inside this envelope she held?
Felicity placed a hand to her forearm. Comfort. Solidarity.
“But I ain’t payin’ the taxes,” he said, avoiding any eye contact with Felicity. “Them there is your problem.”
“But why, Ernie?” Delaney asked. “Why give us the property now, after all this time, after everything we’ve been through?” It didn’t make sense. None of it made any sense.
Delaney received no answer. And in that moment she realized she never would. Most likely, Ernie didn’t have an answer to give. He’d made his choice back when his sister was alive—for inexplicable reasons—and he was doing so again. Poor choices, good choices, did anyone know what drove them to act as they did?
Delaney dropped her gaze to the envelope in hand. Excitement bloomed. Felicity could go to college and stay in college, get the training for the career she wanted to pursue! When Delaney looked up at Ernie, she felt the urge to hug him. Instead, she gave the nod to Felicity.
The girl hurried over and encircled him with her arms. “Thank you, Uncle Ernie!” She hugged him fiercely. “Thank you so much.”
Delaney leaned against a wood column on her cabin’s porch and stared out into the thick mass of forest. Trees and brush and mountainous earth cradled her mother’s cabin, protected it from the harsh elements, the world at large, making it indeed her safe haven. Felicity was down at Ernie’s a bit earlier than usual, playing to both their hearts’ content while she stood alone with her thoughts. It had finally happened. No more lawyers, no more fights. The property belonged to her and Felicity.
Delaney didn’t care that only her daughter’s name appeared on the title. The two were a team. They could stay on Ladd land and live their lives the way their ancestors had—among the mountains and streams, springs and serenity. Serenity Springs. The name took form in her mind. Had Nick seen in this property what others took for granted? Had he seen the potential and believed it worth fighting for?
The screen door creaked and Delaney’s hand flew to her throat. “Good grief—” She whirled around to see Nick step inside the porch. “You scared me,” she exclaimed breathlessly.
“You seemed a bit faraway there.” He neared, affection mingling with concern. “Everything okay?”
Heartbeats thrashing through her chest and shoulders, she nodded, breathing in and out to calm the hammer of her pulse as he approached. It was not quite dark out, the embers of sunset glazing the porch in golden tranquility. Nick leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips, his fresh drift of cologne mixing with the rich scent of forest hovering in the air. He lingered, and kissed her again, sliding moist lips across hers.
Delaney’s insides groaned with pleasure. That was nice.
“So how’s Ernie?” he asked. “Is the illness hitting him hard?”
“I’d say so. He signed the property over to Felicity.”
Nick arched a brow. “Come again?”
“Handed us the papers this afternoon,” she said, suddenly overwhelmed with joy. A part of her felt guilty over celebrating at a time when her uncle was facing such misery. But another part of her was excited for the future.
“You must be thrilled.”
Her pleasure quickly faded. “I am.”
“That’s about the saddest happy face I’ve ever seen.”
Delaney tried to smile. “It doesn’t feel quite right, you know?” She glanced down toward Ernie’s home. “He’s facing the end and we’re facing the future.” Delaney yearned for Nick to make her feel better, convince her that everything was okay and she wasn’t a bad person. “It’s not right.”
Nick placed a finger beneath her chin and held her in his gaze. “It’s life.”
“But his is ending so awfully.”
“It didn’t have to be this way,” Nick said. “Your uncle chose to be angry, chose to drag you through the muddy river before agreeing to what should have been a no-brainer. You have nothing to feel guilty or ashamed of. This property belongs in your family.”
“But you wanted to buy it.” The blunt force of her words caught him on the jaw.
“I did. Until I came to know you and Felicity.”
“And now you don’t want it anymore?” Delaney grunted and turned from him. She locked arms over her chest. “I find that hard t
o believe.”
Nick placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to face him. Dark eyes smoldered as they normally did, usually when he was about to take charge. “I never said I didn’t want it. I simply don’t need to own it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to build my hotel here. I can do that with you and Felicity.”
A tremor of excitement shimmied up her spine. “What?”
“You heard me.” Nick lightened his hold, slid his hand up and down her arms as though warming her, then untied her arms and intertwined his fingers through hers. The connection was gentle, intimate. “I want us to build this hotel together.”
“Together?” She balked. “But I don’t even have the money to pay the taxes. How am I going to help build a hotel?” Though she found the proposition enticing. Build a hotel with Nick? That would take years, right? Side-by-side, day after day. It certainly would ensure that he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon—a proposition she liked even better than the first.
“I may be able to help you with that.” A wry smile tipped the corner of his mouth upward.
“By buying the property,” she said glumly, swallowing her disappointment. Why did she let herself fall so easily?
“By signing a hundred year lease.”
She pulled back. “A what?”
He squeezed her hands, his smile turning into a grin. “Technically, ninety-nine years, but who’s counting? It gives us one to grow on, he added with a wink.”
“Nick. Be serious.”
“I am.” Lifting her hands to his mouth, he pressed his lips to her fingers. “It’ll give me enough time to get to know you better.”
“Nick, stop.” Delaney meant his teasing, though the feel of his warm lips against her skin reminded her of their night together—a night she wanted to repeat. But a hundred years? Was a lease that long even possible?
“The 99-year lease is a business arrangement used to ensure the lessee rights to the use of a property, without actually holding title to it.” He cupped his large hands around hers and held firm. “You own the property, but give me a 99-year lease. I build my hotel, at my expense, while paying you for the use of your land. It’s a win-win.”
“What happens if I decide I don’t want to be in the hotel business anymore?”
Nick cocked his head. “Giving up on us already?”
Delaney ignored the spray of nerves, his adorable pout and said, “I’m being realistic. What if things don’t work out between us, what then?”
“We re-negotiate the terms of the deal.”
“Would I be stuck with a hotel?”
He laughed and relinquished her hands. “Good grief, woman! You make it sound like a punishment!”
“Well... I can’t afford the taxes. I doubt I’ll be able to afford a hotel.”
Nick slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Warm within his embrace, she tried to evade the amusement dancing in his devilishly black eyes. “You wouldn’t have to buy it. I would have to sell to someone more your type and let you two run off on your merry way while I found a hole to curl up and die in.”
“Nick.” She squeezed his muscular torso, luxuriating in the solid feel of his body next to hers.
“If you’re planning our future demise, I have to be realistic, don’t I?”
“I’m not planning our future demise.”
Nick leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You’re not?”
“No.” She tilted her head up and his mouth sought hers. “I’m not,” she murmured as he kissed her—the way she wanted him to kiss her, yearned for him to kiss her.
Nick sighed. “Can we start planning our hotel, then?”
Delaney giggled like a school girl. “Are you using me for my land, Mr. Harris?”
“Not at all. It’s all about your body, Ms. Wilkins.” He enclosed his mouth over hers again, sliding his tongue in and around, as if he couldn’t probe deep enough, hard enough.
Delaney matched his tempo, an urgency building inside her. Last night with Nick had meant something to her. A lot of something. To think that he felt the same way was everything she wanted. More than she could have hoped for. And if the surge of desire she felt was any indication, she wanted him right now.
The sensation of Nick’s mouth and hips ran together in her mind, her body, fusing the pleasurable feelings inside and outside into one. She ached for him to hold her, to love her. Everything about him was masculine, strong. Delaney did not consider herself a weak woman, but she was powerless to resist him.
Boots pummeled up the stairs, the porch door swung open.
Delaney gasped, jerking away from Nick. “Felicity!”
Her daughter stood in the doorway, her body a narrow silhouette against the backdrop of the fading sun. Horrified that her daughter had witnessed the two of them, Delaney could only hope that her child was not appalled by the scene. But she couldn’t see her face.
Delaney held her breath, straightening her shirt as Felicity strolled toward them. Her daughter’s face came into the glow of cabin light. “You two need to get a room.” Calmly, she deposited her flute case by the front door, then proceeded to tug her boots free
Relieved by the hint of humor in her daughter’s voice, Delaney realized Felicity was encouraging her...again. Delaney cleared her throat. “I have a room, thank you.”
Felicity chuckled. “You might try using it.” Picking up her case, she opened the door and wiggled her fingers goodbye. “Night, Mr. Harris.”
Nick grinned broadly and raised a hand. “Night, Felicity.”
Delaney gaped after her daughter. “Did that really just happen?”
“It did, and she’s right.” Dropping his sultry gaze to her mouth, he murmured, “We need a room.”
Ladd Springs Page 24