[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years (7 page)

“Like your own mother and father?”

“Yes. And my brothers.”

“You need to mend that fence.”

Ashley jerked upward, bristling at the thought. “Why should I? They care nothing for me. They’re the ones who sent me away without another word—without a cent to my name.”

“True enough, but they may have had a change of heart.
In fact, your brothers and father may never have agreed with your mother’s actions at all. You never gave them a chance to voice an opinion. You never let them know where you were, and because you were with me and pleaded for me not to tell them, they don’t know how to reach either of us.”

“Which is exactly how I want it.” Ashley got to her feet. “I can’t imagine that they’d care to know where I am—even now.”

“But you can’t assume that. You need to turn this over to the Lord and work through it, because, frankly, I’d like to see your mama—your aunt Lavelle too before I die.”

Ashley had never considered this for even a moment. Up until now, Grandpa had said very little about his daughters. “After the way they treated you, Grandpa, how can you want to see them? They were cruel. They forced you to divide up your property and live without the wealth and possessions you’d collected over the years.”

“Those things meant very little to me in light of my children’s happiness. I knew the money and things couldn’t make them happy,” Grandpa admitted, “but I also knew that they would have to come to their own understanding of that. I forgive them for what they said and did, and I want to put the past to rest.”

His expression took on a faraway look, as though he were drawn back in time. “I know there’s a possibility they still feel as angry and hateful as they did when I first told them I was leaving the real estate business in Los Angeles. Still, there’s the possibility God has done a work in their lives and they’ve changed.” He looked back at Ashley. “I wouldn’t want to die and not at least try to make things right. Besides, your mother and father might very well want to be a part of your life—your brothers too. Once I’m gone, you might want them in your life as well. Ashley, at least promise me you’ll think about it.”

Ashley’s breathing quickened with the tightening in her chest. “I’ll think about it, but that’s all I can promise at this point.”
But even as she said the words, Ashley knew there wasn’t all that much time to think about anything. With the doctor’s last visit, she knew there was little time left.

Grandpa smiled. “That’s enough. For now.”

Ashley thought about his words as she readied herself for town. Running a comb through her bobbed brown hair, she wondered if there was even the slimmest chance that he was right. Maybe her parents had felt bad for the way they’d done things. Perhaps her father, upon hearing what her mother had done, had come to speak with Ashley only to find she’d already gone. It was possible. But did that change things for her? Her mother had still chosen money over love and made it clear that Ashley had no place in her life unless she did likewise. Even if they showed up on the doorstep tomorrow—could she forgive them?

Russell heard the door close and knew Ashley had left the house. He moaned softly as he settled into the mattress.

“Lord, the pain is so great. Please ease it—send me comfort.”

He thought of the morphine. It was there for his benefit, and yet he refused to take it. How often in life had there been other things he’d refused—things that might well have made the way easier, less painful?

“I just don’t want my head clouded. There’s still too much to tend to. I want to see my daughters, Lord. Please bring them to me—please give me time.”

Russell had spoken to his lawyer about notifying the women and then stopped short of having the man actually do the deed. Ashley wanted nothing to do with her mother. When he’d moved here to Winslow with Ashley, it had been with the promise that he’d never do anything to give away her whereabouts. Now he needed to ask her to release him from that promise before it was too late.

“She won’t like the idea, Lord, but I’m hoping to cushion the blow. Surely once she sees how she doesn’t have to worry
about where she’ll live or the money . . . maybe then she won’t mind her mother knowing where she is. Maybe too she’ll consider putting the past behind her as I’ve asked.”

****

“Hello again!” Natalie called to E. J. as she crossed the lobby.

E. J. turned from the older woman and motioned Natalie to join them. “Natalie, I want you to meet Miss Colter.”

Natalie came to a halt in front of the woman and extended her hand. “I’m Natalie, and I want to build things like you do.”

Mary Colter nodded and shook Natalie’s hand. “It’s not an easy job for a woman. Men seldom listen to you, yet they’re the ones who generally carry out the actual construction work.”

Natalie looked at E. J. and commented, “Mr. Carson says you’re the very best. He doesn’t mind working for you.”

“Yes, well, E. J. is the exception. He seems quite willing to follow instructions.”

E. J. laughed. “I wouldn’t dare do otherwise. Everyone knows it’s better to do what Miss Colter says than to question her. Besides”—he leaned down and whispered conspiratorially—“I think Miss Colter is one terrific lady.”

This brought a bit of a chuckle from Mary Colter. “Well, not everyone feels that way, but I’m working on them. Oh, I’ll have to talk with you more tomorrow, E. J. I see one of my boys making a mess of the ironwork.” She pushed past Natalie without another word.

“Her boys are working here?” Natalie questioned.

E. J. shook his head. “No, she calls all of us ‘her boys.’ Most of the men hate it, but I find it rather endearing. My own mother is dead and gone, so I don’t mind it at all.”

“I think she’s very nice,” Natalie said, watching as Mary Colter waggled her finger at the ironworker.

“Come on, I was just finishing for the day. We can go look at the garden if you like.”

“I really want to get an ice-cream cone. I have enough money to buy you one too,” Natalie offered. “Would you like to go with me?”

E. J. considered the matter for a moment. “Wouldn’t it seem rather strange for you to go there with a grown man who isn’t a member of your family? I wouldn’t want your mother to worry.”

Natalie whirled around and gazed at the ceiling overhead. “I go have ice creams with lots of grown-ups. People are really nice around here. I don’t have to worry ’cause they’re all good people. Grandpa says you can always tell good people, and I know you’re one of them.”

E. J. rubbed his chin. Having had a good portion of his lower face ripped to shreds by the explosion of an enemy potato masher, his jaw periodically ached and caused him pain even after all these years. Today had been one of those days when the dull ache seemed more intense.

“I suppose some ice cream might very well hit the spot,” he finally answered. “But it will be my treat.”

Natalie shrugged. “If you want to.”

They ambled out of the building and headed toward town. “So tell me about your family, Natalie,” E. J. said, still not exactly certain that he should be making this trip with the girl.

“My mama and I live here with my grandpa. She moved here before I was even born.” Natalie waved to a couple of older men as they ambled along on the opposite side of the street. “Hello, Mr. Braxton, Mr. Lynn.” She looked back at E. J. and smiled. “They always walk down to the Harvey House and have supper at exactly five o’clock. My mama says they’re always very punctual.”

“So you were telling me about your mother. Where did she live before coming here?” E. J. asked innocently.

“Baltimore. She lived there with my daddy before he went
to the war. My grandma and grandpa didn’t like my daddy, so they were real mean to my mama.”

E. J. looked down at the child as if she’d spoken Greek. “Why didn’t they like your daddy?”

“He wasn’t rich. They wanted Mama to marry a rich man, but Mama said she only loved my daddy and would never love anyone else. And you know what, she never has,” Natalie said, looking quite serious. “She says that’s what it’s like with true love.”

E. J. felt his mouth go dry. The child was giving an uncanny account of his own life. How could this be?

“Here’s the store I like,” Natalie said, rushing into the ice-cream parlor and drugstore without waiting for E. J.

“Hi, Mrs. Nelson,” Natalie called as she came to the counter. “I’ve come for ice cream.”

A plump woman stood behind the counter. She put her hands on her hips and smiled. “I suppose you’ll be wanting the regular, eh?”

Natalie giggled and nodded. “Chocolate.”

The woman then looked to E. J. “Is this man a friend of yours, Natalie?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Yup. He’s working over at the new Harvey House. His name is E. J. Carson and he’s an architect like my daddy was. Mr. Carson has been showing me all around the Harvey hotel and he even introduced me to Miss Colter. She’s the one who designed the entire place.”

The woman’s expression relaxed. She smiled, revealing crooked teeth. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carson. Any friend of Natalie’s is always welcome here.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” E. J. replied uncomfortably. He hated to be under anyone’s scrutiny, but worse yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of what Natalie had shared with him only moments earlier.

E. J.’s mind moved in a hundred different directions. It’s just coincidence, he told himself. Just one of those flukes of time and nature. That Natalie’s mother should have lived in
Baltimore and married against her parents’ wishes was just ironic. It wasn’t so very extraordinary. E. J. ordered a vanilla cone and paid for the purchase before following Natalie to a small table for two.

“I love to come here. I like to watch the big fans go round and round,” she said, pointing overhead. “On a hot day, it’s the best place in the world to be.”

E. J. nodded and ate absentmindedly. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked hard at the child sitting opposite him. Dark brown eyes gazed back at him. Eyes so much like . . .

“My mama likes to come here too, but she’s usually too busy,” Natalie stated, happily devouring her cone.

“Your mama sounds like a very nice lady,” E. J. said, his voice trembling.

“She is. She’s the best in the world.”

E. J. forced himself to ask the question that wouldn’t let him be. “What . . . what is your mother’s name?”

“Ashley,” Natalie replied. “Ashley Murphy Reynolds.”

E. J. stared at the child for a moment, then quickly got to his feet. “I need to get back. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll go with you,” Natalie said, following him to the door.

“No, that’s all right. I forgot something at work.”

“There you are!” a familiar voice called out.

E. J. forced himself to look up. It was her. She was alive. His wife was alive.

Ashley moved toward them and smiled. “I figured I’d find you here, Natalie. Who’s your friend?”

She didn’t recognize him. But why should she? He wore glasses, had a full beard and mustache, and had endured multiple surgeries to set his jaw and lower face in order. There was no reason she should see him for the boyish man who’d gone off to war only a few weeks after their wedding.

“This is Mr. Carson,” Natalie told her mother.

“E. J. Carson,” he said, extending his hand. He didn’t know what else to say. How could he simply introduce himself as
her long-dead husband? Furthermore, why did she believe he was dead? Who had told her that? Anger burned inside. Perhaps the same person who had told him she was dead had masterminded a scheme to make her believe he’d perished upon the battlefield.

Ashley’s smile was just as he remembered. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Carson.”

“Mr. Carson works building the Harvey hotel,” Natalie explained, finishing her ice-cream cone. “He was just going back to work.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you, Mr. Carson,” Ashley said sweetly. “Come along, Natalie, I’ve been on business for Grandpa and we should get right home. I hate to leave him alone too long.”

Natalie nodded and took hold of her mother’s hand. “Can Mr. Carson come have dinner with us sometime?”

E. J. cleared his throat uncomfortably. He knew the little minx was playing matchmaker. But he was the only one of the trio who knew there was no need. He was already married to the woman.

Ashley met his gaze and replied, “Of course he can, but not tonight. We have too many things to take care of.”

E. J. breathed a sigh of relief. He could barely stand to be this close to her and not pull her into his arms and declare his identity. The only thing that stopped him was the past. A sickening sensation crept over him; the images of his nightmares came to rest on his heart. He was of no good to this woman and her child.
Her child.
Was she also his? His mind reeled. A child? Could he be a father? It was all too much to fathom.

“I really have to go. It was good to meet you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

He hurried away, not giving either one of them a chance to reply. With his world crashing down around him, E. J. felt rather like Pandora. He’d opened a box that he’d thought long ago sealed and forever closed to him. His heart begged him to
look back over his shoulder—to catch a glimpse of her face once more. But the demons of the past would not let him. How could he saddle a wife and child with the horrors that lived inside him now? He wasn’t Ethan Reynolds anymore. In many ways, Ethan Reynolds
had
died on the battlefields of France, just as they presumed he had.

CHAPTER FIVE

E. J. stretched out across his bed and stared up at the ceiling in his hotel room. He’d isolated himself from everyone after learning the truth about Ashley. How could she be alive?

He thought back on every word Natalie had told him. Her grandfather was dying. Would that be Ashley’s father? E. J. had never had much to do with the man, but the image of the man’s wife, Leticia Murphy, was clearly etched in his memories. As were so many other images.

“She didn’t recognize me,” he murmured.
But why should she?
He took off his glasses and laid them aside. He looked completely different now. He even shocked himself sometimes when he looked in the mirror. Of course, there was also the fact he’d changed his name. Ashley was introduced to E. J. Carson—not to Ethan Reynolds.