She stopped as she spotted Phil himself hailing her from the parking area near the park’s gate. Great. Just who she wanted to see. Elizabeth told Nick and Montgomery to stick close as she approached the city councilman.
“Mind if I talk with you a minute, Liz?” he asked. “I felt like we had some harsh words with each other last week, and I don’t want to leave things in a bad way between us.”
“It’s OK, Phil. I’m just concerned about the town.”
“Well, I am, too, don’t you know? Looks to me like we’re on the same side in this matter.”
“Maybe so.” Elizabeth could see that Pearlene had already gone home. Phil must have returned to the park for the express purpose of having this conversation. “Well, I’ve got to get the kids into the bathtub, Phil. See you around.”
“Just a minute, Liz.” He stepped closer, his eyes somber. “I heard you went ahead and got yourself put on the agenda for next month’s city council meeting. Are you planning to talk about that parking lot idea of mine?”
“I’m just going to speak on behalf of Ambleside and the town’s history. I would hope the council is perceptive enough to see the value in preserving our character.”
“You’re talking about the square.”
“And the mansion, the Corner Market, Dandy Donuts, the drugstore—all the buildings that make Ambleside such a wonderful place to live and raise a family.”
“I’ll tell you what, Liz; you make a persuasive speaker. I’ve been giving our talk the other day a lot of thought. I agree with you that the square needs to stay square. If we move the cannon, no telling who’s going to get mad. I think we need to keep our eye on Zachary Chalmers and that mansion, too. If he puts his office right there, downtown’s going to get too congested.”
Elizabeth held her breath. “Are you saying you don’t support Zachary’s plan to tear down Grace’s house?”
“Not if he’s planning to put in an office complex.” He smiled. “Are you with me on this, Liz?”
She thought of the handsome newcomer and his dreams for the future. If she and Phil worked against him, they might just be able to put a stop to the demolition. But what would that mean to Zachary? What would it do to the growing sense of unity between the two of them? She liked Zachary Chalmers. In spite of herself, she cared about him. And worst of all, she found herself mulling over the moments of intimacy they had shared—soft laughter, gentle touches, a tender kiss …
“Will you work with me to fight this, Liz?” Phil was asking. “Will you help me fight for Ambleside?”
“What are you planning, Phil? I don’t see how I can have much influence.”
“Zachary likes you—that’s plain as day. The town thinks well of you, too. And you’re on the city council agenda. You could have a lot of impact.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I was checking the deeds the other day. I talked to some of the folks over at city hall, too. If we push real hard, we might could get that deed locked up for a while.”
“How?”
“There’s some kind of message about the mansion in the town charter. You know, it was Zachary’s great-grandfather who built the house and founded the town, both. Seems he had some things written into the charter to make sure that his house would never get torn down. Of course, a modern-day attorney is probably going to find loopholes in that. I talked to Sawyer-the-lawyer, and he told me those old charters might not be considered legal documents. Most of them have been amended and expanded out the kazoo, so they’re not too valid. All the same, we could probably hold up Zachary’s plan for a good while. And maybe we could talk him out of building that office. We might even get the city to buy that property.”
A ripple of chills raced down Elizabeth’s spine. “Are you telling me you’d work to help the town get ownership of the mansion?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Phil! I can’t believe you’ve had such a change of heart.”
“I could see my notions about improving the town weren’t getting anywhere, so I decided to try a different tack. I think this is going to work, Liz, if you’ll agree to cancel your talk to the council and let me get busy blocking Zachary Chalmers.”
A prickle of wariness took the place of the chills. “I don’t see how it could hurt to let me speak to the council about the historical preservation of Ambleside.”
“But would it help? Don’t draw attention to this issue, Liz, until I’ve had a chance to get that charter into public view. Back off, and let me work on this. Will you do that?”
Elizabeth could sense the growing restlessness of the children as they tugged on her arms and played hide-and-seek around her legs. For some reason, she couldn’t make herself trust Phil Fox. On the other hand, he was pledging to preserve the mansion, wasn’t he? What more could she hope for?
“OK,” she said. “I’ll call and have my name taken off the agenda. But I want to see that charter.”
“I knew you’d go for this, Liz.” He smiled beneath his beard. “I just knew it.”
As he stepped back into his car and pulled out of the parking area, Elizabeth studied the fading red taillights. She had just gained an ally. The mansion had received a stay of execution. So why didn’t she feel the least bit victorious?
A crack of thunder rattled the single windowpane in Zachary’s tiny upstairs office. He tapped his pen on the blueprint spread across his drafting table and studied the play of lightning that flickered on the brick wall outside. After a few minutes of hard rain, the roof would begin to leak, and he’d need to move his plastic wastebasket under the drip.
The sketch beneath his pen offered a welcome mental reprieve from the musty smell, the seeping water, and the dim light of his current workplace. His future office building displayed every convenience of modern architectural design. Windowpanes could be opened from the inside for cleaning. Closets virtually disappeared into walls. Files hid in false pillars. The heating system ran through the floor. Executive bathrooms sported towel warmers and doorless showers that wouldn’t spatter water. The kitchen had roll-away, expandable tables, appliance garages, and a cushioned floor covering that prevented backaches.
His own office on the second floor was to look out over the park—an expanse of oak and maple trees, well-mown lawn, and winding trails. Already most of the other offices in the complex had been spoken for. Acquaintances and business colleagues in Jefferson City had put their names down to rent space in Ambleside. It would be a short drive from the capital, a quiet environment in which to work, and a quaint atmosphere in which to entertain clients.
He had labored for years on this plan, Zachary thought as he turned to the sketch of the front view of his office. At first, he’d planned it only in his mind—a vague, hoped-for dream. And then his aunt had died and left him Chalmers House.
As he listened to the rain hitting the sidewalks below, Zachary doodled a Victorian curlicue on the post that supported the new office complex’s small entry porch. Then he curved the top of each window into an arch and gave it a narrow edging of stained glass. A few more pen strokes transformed the single front door into a pair of tall, narrow doors inset with glass ovals.
He leaned back in his chair and squinted at the modified drawing. Ridiculous! Throwing down his pen, he pushed back from the table and stood. He couldn’t transform his new office into a piece of Victorian gingerbread. It would look anachronistic and awkward. People would laugh, and rightly so.
Grabbing his sketchpad and umbrella, he strode toward the door. He couldn’t spare the mansion. It would have to come down. The night of the church picnic, he’d gone over to the old building and wandered around inside for nearly two hours. It had been too dark to see details, but the place was clearly mildew ridden, termite eaten, and rotting. The floors squeaked, the windows rattled, doorknobs came off in his hand, the kitchen was cavernous and inefficient. The heater in the basement looked like something out of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory.
But how could he tear it down? Zachary descended the narrow steps two at a time. Chalmers House had been built by his namesake. The founder of Ambleside had erected that mansion as a statement to the town he had established, and only people bearing the name Chalmers had lived in it. Would a Chalmers now demolish it?
In the pouring, late-afternoon rain, Zachary darted across River Street and splashed down the sidewalk past the cannon. He skirted the pavilion, crossed Walnut Street in front of Finders Keepers, and stopped to stare at his great-grandfather’s legacy. As water trickled down the spines of his umbrella, he gazed at the old house, wondering if he could find answers to unspoken questions. Had the first Zachary Chalmers designed the house himself? Had he poured his dreams into its planning the way his great-grandson had planned the mansion’s replacement?
Instead of searching for faults this time, Zachary had made up his mind to look for the stamp of his family. He would try to discover his great-grandfather’s vision and his grandfather’s hopes. Perhaps even a clue to his father’s disillusionment. If the auction hadn’t completely decimated the place, he might even find his aunt’s red coat.
“Hello, Zachary!” Nick Hayes called from the front porch of his mother’s shop. “We don’t have school today. We get to stay home and play. Do you want to play with me? It’s raining.”
“I noticed that,” Zachary said through the hollow roar of rainwater on his umbrella. “Where’s Montgomery?”
“Her daddy came to get her in the middle of the night. They’re flying on an airplane back to Texas. Magunnery’s mommy might die soon. She doesn’t have any hair, but Magunnery is not going to be scared to see her. Magunnery says her mommy is the same even without hair.”
Zachary gripped the umbrella in his hand and approached the porch. “Are you sure about Montgomery’s mother?”
“I’m sure. They shaved it all off.”
“I mean … about her dying.”
“Oh, yes.” The boy nodded solemnly. “My mommy has been crying all day. She cried into the potato salad.”
“Where’s your mom now?”
“Inside. We’re going to visit Boompah after the store closes. You want to come with us?”
Zachary deferred his plan for the moment as he moved into the shelter of the antiques shop’s deep front porch. “Let’s see if your mom will let you come over to Grace’s house with me. Would you like that?”
Nick hopped off the wooden rocking chair. “Is Grace there?”
“Uhh … don’t you remember about Grace?”
The green eyes saddened. “I remember. But I thought maybe she had come back.”
“No, Nick. She’s not back.” Zachary pushed open the door to Finders Keepers. Death was hard enough for most people to comprehend, but Nick seemed to be having an especially difficult time making sense of it.
“Elizabeth, it’s Zachary Chalmers,” he called into the large room. “You here?”
She appeared from behind a wardrobe, a tissue pressed against her cheek. “Oh, hey, Zachary. Did you come to talk about the charter?”
“What charter?”
“Didn’t Phil tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, great.” She turned and stared out the window at the rain for a moment. Then she shook her head and shrugged. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m going over to the mansion for a few minutes. OK if I take Nick along?”
“I guess so. I need him back by five-thirty.”
“He told me you’re going to visit Boompah.” Zachary stepped into the shop. “Elizabeth, I’m sorry to hear about Montgomery’s mom. Nick told me.”
She nodded, moving the tissue to the corner of her eye. “Ellie’s a committed Christian. She’ll be OK. It’s Luke and Montgomery I’m really worried about.”
“Is there anything I can do? I mean, for you?”
A hollow look came across her face. “Are you sure Phil hasn’t talked to you yet? He was going to tell you about the charter.”
“I haven’t seen Phil since the church picnic the other day. He tried to pin me down in support of his parking lot on the square, but I wouldn’t go for it. An
L
is not a square, no matter what Phil says.”
“But didn’t he tell you he’d found a mention of Chalmers Mansion in the town charter?”
“What town charter?”
“Your great-grandfather wrote it. He put in a statement that requires the mansion to remain standing.”
“OK, I’m ready to go,” Nick said, taking Zachary’s hand and giving it a firm tug. He had donned a yellow plastic raincoat. “I want to see Grace’s house. I want to look at what’s in the blue vase on the hall table. She always puts flowers in there.”
Zachary stiffened. “Remain standing? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Nick said. “In the spring she puts in dogwood branches and those yellow flowers. Daffydolls. And in the summer—”
“Elizabeth, do you mean to tell me that Phil is going to try to use this charter thing to block my inheritance of the mansion?”
“Not your inheritance,” Elizabeth said. “Just the demolition.”
“Then you’re with him on it, aren’t you?”
She glanced at the window again. “Yes,” she said softly.
Biting off the harsh words that rose inside him, he slammed his hand down on the glass-topped counter. “First the letter in the Bible and now some old town charter. You’re determined to keep me from my dreams, aren’t you?”
“Grace had dreams long before you. Your great-grandfather had dreams when he founded this town.”
“They’re both dead, Elizabeth!”
“And Montgomery’s mommy, too!” Nick cried out. He let out a howl that sent shivers down Zachary’s spine. “Everybody’s dying!”
“No, no, sweetheart.” Elizabeth came across the room, arms outstretched as Zachary knelt beside the little boy.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” he began. “I just—”
“But I don’t want Grace to die!” Nick wailed. “I don’t want Boompah to die! I don’t want Ellie to die!”
“Boompah’s going to be all right,” Elizabeth said, taking her son into her arms. He stood as stiff as a board, his arms straight at his sides and his fingers splayed. “Nick, please try to understand, honey. Mommy and Zachary are talking about—”
“About that Bible!” Nick took a swing and knocked the black book from the counter to the floor. “That Bible makes you yell at each other. It makes you hate each other!”