Honeysuckle Season

by Mary Ellen Taylor

  “Lofton,” she said softly.

  As Colton remained by the door, Libby moved toward the bed. Lofton looked up and studied her a long moment before she closed her eyes. There was a bruise on the side of her face and scrapes along her jawline, likely left by the deployed airbag. “You sound just like Mom.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Elaine asked me to check in on you. She’ll be down in a few hours. Apparently, she’s in New York.”

  She pressed fingertips to her brow. “Great.”

  Libby pulled up a chair and sat down. “Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other. Can’t pick your family, right?”

  Lofton raised the small basin to her lips. She heaved a couple of times, causing Libby to stand up and turn away.

  “I’m pretty sure Elaine wants us to be friends, and this is her idea of a bonding moment,” Libby said.

  “Until you, I was enough. She loved just me, and we were best friends. She used to call us the Two Amigos.”

  “And now you’re one of the Three Musketeers.”

  “Exactly. It sucks.”

  Libby moved closer to the bed but remained standing. “I’ve no desire to get between you two. I had a great mother.” She drew in a breath. “And a great father.”

  Lofton sat forward and threw up again. Libby pressed her hand to her stomach and hurried away from the bed.

  “I’ll get a nurse,” Colton said.

  Libby sat in a chair across the room and put her head in her hands. Her own stomach tumbled several times. “What the hell were you drinking?”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Scotch. Dad’s going to be pissed when he realizes I went through his bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.”

  “At least you have good taste.” Libby counted slowly, drawing in a breath until her stomach settled.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Lofton asked.

  “A little pregnant.”

  “What?”

  The nurse appeared, checked Lofton’s vitals, and replaced the plastic basin. When the nurse left, Libby noticed more bruises on Lofton’s arms. “You’re lucky you aren’t dead.”

  “You don’t get to lecture me,” Lofton said. “That’s for Dad and Mom.”

  How could she go from no family to petulant little sister and a bun in the oven in five weeks? “No, but Elaine will. You scared her to death,” Libby said. “You’re smarter than that. And you told me yourself she is fragile.”

  “I get that. Believe me. I’m about to get arrested, and that’s going to fly with the new boss like a lead balloon.”

  Libby had no words of comfort to add. “What were you doing at Woodmont anyway?”

  “I was getting ready for Mom and Dad’s renewal of vows ceremony. It’s in two weeks.”

  “Why throw rocks at the greenhouse?”

  “I started thinking about the party and how one day I wouldn’t have access to the land, because it would be yours. I certainly wasn’t going to burn down Woodmont.”

  “Smart decision.”

  Lofton closed her eyes. “I always thought Woodmont would be mine.”

  “Then take it. I don’t need it.”

  “Mom says you get it. I think she’s trying to assuage her guilt.”

  In Elaine’s rush to make things right, she had hurt Lofton deeply. “Then I’ll give it to you.”

  “I don’t want it from you.” She sat up and looked at Libby with bloodshot eyes smudged with mascara. “I want it from Mom.”

  “Since when do we get everything we want in this world? Do you want the house or not?”

  “She won’t go for it. She wants you to have it.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  Lofton groaned and shoved back a tangle of blonde hair. “Don’t talk to her. I don’t need you pleading my case.”

  “What if we go halves on it? Both of Elaine’s daughters will own Woodmont.”

  “I don’t even know you. And now you’re going to give Mom her first grandchild.”

  Libby rose, drawing a deep breath, hoping it would calm her stomach. “Stop whining, Lofton. You sound like you’re five.”

  “I do not.”

  “Do too” rattled in her head but was silenced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. The curtain whisked back, and Elaine and Ted stood there looking frazzled and terrified.

  Elaine held up her phone. “You didn’t answer.”

  “Sorry,” Libby said.

  “Always answer your calls. You have no idea how many worst-case scenarios have run through my mind.” Elaine sounded like an anxious mother doing her best not to scold her adult child.

  “I totally understand. Won’t happen again.” Libby stepped toward the door, grateful to turn her baby sister back over to their worried mother.

  Elaine smoothed back Lofton’s hair and kissed her on the forehead. “God, I’m so grateful you’re alive.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Lofton’s voice sounded small and a little contrite.

  Elaine turned to Libby. “Thank you.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Libby and Colton stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “Got to love family.”

  “Elaine will be in there awhile. I’ve texted Ginger, and she’s waiting to see you.”

  Tightness banded around her chest. “I say we wait five or six months. Don’t want to get the hopes up.”

  He guided her toward the elevator and pressed the down button. They stepped off on the first floor, where Ginger was waiting. She took the pair into an examination room.

  “Libby,” she said. “How are you doing?”

  “I might be a little pregnant, but it likely won’t last.”

  Ginger looked past her to Colton, her expression questioning. “That’s not what Colton said.”

  “I’ve already lost three pregnancies.” As much as she wanted to hope for this baby, she did not dare.

  “Well, why don’t we run a few quick tests and see what’s going on,” Ginger said. “Every pregnancy is different, and there’s no predicting what will happen. One step at a time.”

  “I want to hear what Ginger has to say,” Colton said.

  Ginger regarded her brother a long moment as an amused smile lightened her expression. “Do you mind if Colton stays?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  The examination took only a few minutes, with Libby lying on a gurney while Colton sat in a chair next to her. Afterward, Ginger wrote up some notes on her tablet and then turned her attention back to Libby. “Libby, you’re indeed pregnant.”

  Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She stared at the tiled ceiling, trying to push back the feeling of happiness and hope.

  “We have a great doctor on staff who handles high-risk pregnancies,” Ginger said.

  Colton rose and stood beside her. He had a determined “we will get through this” look that she thought was sweet but naive.

  “Don’t do that,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Think we’re going to get through this.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are.”

  “Libby, it’s a long road ahead,” Ginger interjected. “You’re not alone in this.”

  Libby would do whatever was necessary for this pregnancy except hope. She would not make lists of the things a newborn needed nor look at any blue, pink, or yellow paint swatches.

  Colton’s phone pinged with a text. “Elaine is just outside and wants to see you.”

  “Sure. Send her in.”

  The curtains pushed back, and Elaine crossed to her bed. She did not smooth back her hair or kiss her on the forehead like she had with Lofton. But she was here. And she looked worried.

  “What’s going on with you?” Elaine asked.

  “Pregnant,” Libby said.

  “Really?” Elaine’s face lit up with excitement.

 
“Don’t do that around me,” Libby said. “It’s way too soon; trust me.”

  Elaine gently took her hand in hers. “Can I get a little excited if I promise not to show it?”

  “Okay, but that goes for Colton and Ginger too. No victory dances.” She cleared her throat and sat up, doing her best to ignore their terribly hidden goofy expressions. “How is Lofton?”

  “Going to have one hell of a hangover,” Elaine said. “Which serves her right.”

  “She’s worried that you don’t love her,” Libby said. “She thinks I’ve replaced her.”

  “You don’t replace one child with another,” Elaine said. “You already know that.”

  Elaine was right. Even if this baby made it to term, she would never forget the three other children she had carried, loved, and lost. “You can’t give me Woodmont. She’s always wanted it.”

  “She doesn’t know what she wants,” Elaine countered. “If I gave her the property, she would lose interest because it’s not in her blood. She doesn’t see Woodmont the way we do. I love Lofton, but she has some growing up to do before she’s ready for that kind of responsibility.”

  “Give her a break. It’s hard to see the world one way and then find out it’s not what you thought. She’ll grow up, and like me, she’ll realize Woodmont is home. Give her half ownership.”

  Elaine regarded her. “I’ll give you fifty-one percent. And if you want to give her the one percent when she turns, say, fifty, then that’ll be your choice. Like it or not, you two are sisters, and you’ll have to work this out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  SADIE

  Monday, March 15, 1943

  Bluestone, Virginia

  Sadie had given birth to her baby girl on Christmas Eve. The labor had lasted for hours, and there had been times she had thought the child would rip her in two. Her mother had wanted to send a neighbor for the doctor, but Sadie had begged her to stay. The last person she had wanted to help her was Dr. Carter.

  When the six-pounder finally ripped from her body, she tumbled out in a wash of blood onto the mattress. She was scrawny and wrinkled, and her lips had a bluish tinge. Sadie’s mother wiped the baby’s face and body clean and swaddled her in a tiny blanket. She had moved to lay the baby in her daughter’s arms, but Sadie had not been able to bear to look at the child.

  It was going on twelve weeks now since her birth, and Sadie was struggling to care for the child. Miss Olivia had come by weekly with cans of milk and beans, but they had not seen her for the last two weeks. Sadie’s mother had taken to feeding the baby, and despite Sadie’s distress, the little girl was growing like a weed.

  Sadie sat in the truck outside the mercantile store with three jars of moonshine left from her stash, hoping Mr. Sullivan would be willing to trade for canned milk and Karo syrup. Come summer, like it or not, she would have to fire up the still and start making deliveries again. The sheriff would be watching, but it did not matter. She needed the money.

  She climbed out of the truck, wrapping her frayed coat tight around her body, which had filled out a good bit since the baby. She crossed the street with a cold breeze snapping at her as she entered the shop. It had been six months since she’d last frequented the store, and she hoped today’s visit would raise her spirits.

  She started moving toward the front counter but held back as Mr. Sullivan finished an order for the preacher’s wife. Sadie ducked her head and pretended to study a can of beans as the woman chatted about the Sunday service and the songs the choir was going to sing.

  When she passed by, she paused. “Sadie Thompson, is that you I see lurking around?”

  Sadie set the can of beans down. “Yes, Mrs. Morgan.”

  “We haven’t seen you in services since before Thanksgiving. Your mother said you were ailing.”

  “I’m on the mend now.”

  The woman eyed a figure that surely was fuller and rounder than it had been. “Good. Hope to see you in church this week.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hiding at home was no longer an option, and soon folks would figure out there was a baby in her mother’s house.

  As the woman left, Sadie approached the front counter. “Morning, Mr. Sullivan.”

  “Sadie, where have you been these days?”

  “Like I told Mrs. Morgan, I was ailing.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you.” She reached in her pockets and pulled out a jar of moonshine. “I was hoping to make a trade. Canned milk and syrup for a couple of these.”

  “What do you need the milk for?”

  “Seems to be the only thing that settles my stomach these days.”

  His frown deepened. “Have you seen Dr. Carter?”

  “No need for that; the worst of it is over.” Which was a big fat lie.

  “I might be able to sell a few jars,” he said.

  “Sheriff Boyd don’t know about this, so I’d be careful.”

  “I can find my way around Sheriff Boyd.”

  Smiling, Sadie set the jars on the counter. “I figure that’ll do me for seven or eight cans of milk and syrup.”

  Mr. Sullivan set the jars behind the counter but did not regard her with his usual frown. Instead his expression softened just a bit. “Have you heard from your brothers?”

  “Johnny writes often. Danny did send a letter saying he was in Italy. But not much more than that.”

  “War’s bad,” he said, more to himself.

  “Yes, sir.”

  It did not take long before the order was boxed. She offered her thanks and left the store. As she crossed the street, the sunlight caught the shiny metal of a black roadster. Her belly tightened, and for a moment she did not move as she stared at the car. Memories from last spring flooded through her mind, and she thought for a moment she might get sick.

  The front door opened, and Malcolm stepped out. Still looking innocent and fresh faced like Mickey Rooney, he settled his hat on his head and turned her way. The instant their gazes tangled, he paused. His eyes narrowed, and then he grinned.

  “I didn’t recognize you right off,” Malcolm said.

  Sadie tightened her grip on the box of canned goods. “I recognized your car right off.”

  He looked back, a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. “It does hold fond memories, doesn’t it?”

  Sidestepping the comment, she asked, “What are you doing in town?”

  “My cousin and his wife invited me. Olivia has been after me for months to visit, but frankly there was always something more appealing to do.”

  “That so?”

  He leaned closer. “Now that I see you, I think this weekend might not be as boring as I thought. If you still have that green dress, we could find something fun to do.”

  “I burned that dress.”

  He stilled. “That’s a crazy thing to do.”

  “Seeing as what you did to me while I was wearing it, it wasn’t crazy at all.”

  The smile in his gaze dimmed. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  She spit on the ground by his feet. “That’s a damn lie. You hurt me good.”

  “Lower your voice.”

  “Or what?”

  “I’ll have the sheriff pay a visit to your home. I won’t stand for slander.”

  The idea of the sheriff arriving at her house and seeing the baby girl was enough to cool her rising temper. She couldn’t hide the child forever, but she figured if she had a little more time, she would hatch a solution.

  “Yeah, I thought that would shut you up. Girls like you don’t need the trouble.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Have a nice day, Sadie.”

  He walked past her like she wasn’t even there and vanished into the shop.

  She returned to her truck, set her bundle on the seat, and slid behind the wheel. If she were smart, she would just drive home and forget there ever was a Malcolm Carter. There was no changing her life now, and she would have more peace if she simply made the best of it. She slammed the truck door.


  She watched through the store window as Mr. Sullivan pulled out one of her jars of moonshine, and Malcolm handed him several dollar bills.

  She sat up, leaning over the steering wheel, watching as Malcolm exited. “Go on and drive, Sadie,” she muttered to herself. “Best to get back to the farm and forget you ever saw him.”

  Malcolm scanned the street, and when his gaze landed on her, he touched the brim of his hat and winked.

  Her temper roiled up through her with such heat she could feel her cheeks flush. As if he felt her gaze on him, Malcolm squinted as he studied her a bit longer. His head tilted, reminding her of a dog that had heard a whistle. After looking both ways, he crossed the street and held up the jar of her moonshine, as if he was offering a peace token.

  There was even a lightness in his step, as if he had already decided that a little moonshine would get him exactly what he wanted from her. It sure had the first time.

  Something in Sadie snapped. All God’s good reason took one look at her and then took off running, leaving her alone with the devil sitting on her shoulder.

  Sadie never could say why she lost her mind, but it abandoned her and made her forget about her mother, her baby, her brothers, the kindness of Miss Olivia, and even the memory of her daddy. All that was left in her was nothing but hate.

  Malcolm was in the center of the street when she started the rumbling engine and put the truck in gear. Before she knew it, the wheels were rolling, and she was pressing hard on the accelerator. The engine revved. The next thing she knew, she was screaming as his body came at her fast. The grille caught him in the midsection and carried him over the hood of her truck. His body rolled off to the side and hit the dirt road hard.

  Her heart racing, the surge of satisfaction quickly burned up under the glare of reality. In one blink, she had ruined her life and her child’s.

  Her belly tightened, and her breathing quickened as she stopped the truck and looked back. Malcolm was lying in the street. His hat had landed on the sidewalk, and he was missing a shoe. His body was still. Mr. Sullivan knelt over him and then looked toward Sadie, as if he did not know her at all. Which, she supposed, he did not, because she sure did not recognize herself.