“Don’t tell me you think people like Grant Taylor actually change?”
“I’ve seen it happen.” Sam paused. “But a man with a taste for blood rarely loses it.”
“When I was twelve, my mother went to our preacher and told him what was going on at home. She wanted him to help us get away. He said it was her duty to keep her husband happy, that somehow it was her fault.”
“Isaac, surely you don’t believe there’s a Christian conspiracy to oppress women like your mother? Your father scouted for preachers who affirmed his twisted beliefs. Don’t tar us all with the same brush.”
“You’ve never counseled a woman to stay with a man?”
“I take marriage vows seriously, but I’m nobody’s fool. I’ve taken women straight from my office to safe houses.”
“I guess you weren’t reading the same Bible passages my father was.”
“The gospel of John says, ‘God is love.’ Twice. Talk about hammering home a message…”
Isaac fell silent. He admired Sam for living his principles, even when it had cost him a lot. But now he realized he liked him, too.
After two miles they turned around and started back, running on the shadier side of Fitch Crossing Road. Back at the cabin, Sam piled the dogs in his car, told Isaac to call if he or Kendra needed anything, and drove away.
He did some stretching exercises to cool down, exchanged a comment or two with a couple of workmen, then went inside. The logs kept out some of the encroaching heat, but the temperature was beginning to rise.
Kendra was still sitting where he’d left her.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“It’s going to be a scorcher, isn’t it.”
“Why don’t we move you out to the front porch, where there’s shade and a breeze? I’ll get you something cold to drink and your sandwich.”
“You’ll find a casserole in the fridge and more food on the way. Helen Henry came by and dropped it off.”
He helped make her comfortable on the porch, then went to pour soft drinks. In minutes they were both settled with sandwiches they’d bought in town on her trip to see the doctor.
“Ms. Henry must have come and gone quickly,” he said.
“She left me with the casserole and something to think about.”
He settled himself beside her. The view wasn’t the best, since they were looking out over their cars and two pickups. For the first time he felt a glimmer of excitement about the renovations and the resulting view of the river.
He unwrapped his sandwich. “What stirred your interest?”
“Isaac, have you ever paid any attention to the Lover’s Knot quilt your grandmother left you?”
He was sorry the conversation had taken this direction. “Not much.”
“Helen came over a couple of weeks ago to see it. You remember she’s something of a local quilting celebrity, don’t you?”
He listened with one ear as she told him all the strange things about his grandmother’s quilt. Some part of him was still thinking about his conversation with Sam.
“I thought I’d do some research into the names on the quilt,” Kendra finished. “Looking into birth or social security records, maybe, to get some idea where those people lived.”
She had his attention now. “There have to be more interesting ways to spend your time.”
“I guess I thought so, too, because I didn’t get around to it. The renovations started and I’ve been busy dealing with that. You have no idea how many decisions I have to make. Fixtures, windows, lighting, flooring.”
“Uh-huh.” She was right, he had no idea.
“Turns out I was wrong.”
He frowned. “About what?”
“Apparently the quilt’s a lot more interesting than I’d guessed. Let me back up.” She unwrapped her sandwich and set the two halves on the plate he had provided, but she didn’t take a bite.
He guessed she was stalling.
“Okay, here’s the story the best I know it right now. About a year ago, some hikers were up at the Shenandoah National Park. They had a dog, and they’d taken him off the leash to let him run ahead. After a while he disappeared. They searched for an hour, and eventually they heard him barking, but they couldn’t figure out where the sound was coming from. Finally one of them realized it was coming from some boulders a fair distance from the path they were on. Apparently the dog had been chasing something and managed to chase it into a small cave. But then the dog couldn’t figure out how to get out.”
“I thought this was about a quilt?”
“I’m getting to that.”
“Eat something before you start in again.”
She took two big bites. He was already on his second half.
“Anyway, even together, they couldn’t move the key boulder, because another one was right up against it. So one of them hiked back to get a ranger, while the other stayed to be sure they could find the cave again. It took most of the day, until a couple of men came to help.”
“I imagine the dog wasn’t happy.”
“The dog survived without a scratch. Anyway, with the four of them working on it, they managed to move a boulder and expose the cave. The dog bounded out, and that should have been that. But the two rangers were interested. Neither of them knew the cave was there. So one went to the mouth and shone a light inside.”
“And?”
“He saw bones. Human bones.” She paused. “Wrapped in a quilt.”
She had his attention now. He crumpled the sandwich paper into a ball and dropped it on his plate. “I think I remember reading about this. You say it was a year ago?”
“Almost exactly. The local sheriff brought in a forensics team and removed the bodies. Turns out there were two. A man and a woman. Dead from a single bullet each. They were wrapped in what remained of one quilt. The authorities estimated that they died somewhere around seventy years ago. The cave was well sealed, which is the only reason any part of the quilt was still intact. But of course only fragments remained.”
“What does this have to do with my grandmother’s quilt?”
“Helen saw some of the fragments at the Virginia Quilt Museum. The authorities hoped a historian would be able to help figure out where the fabrics came from, how old they were. Somebody there showed what they had to Helen, and she recognized them. She thinks the quilt that wrapped those bodies is virtually identical to the one your grandmother left you, although there’s no trace of signatures, not that she saw, anyway.”
“How can she tell? You said yourself the quilt was in fragments.”
“The authorities put the quilt back together as best they could and took photos before they sent a few of the fabric scraps to the museum. Helen had examined yours just a week or so before she saw the photos. And when it comes to quilts and fabric, her memory is faultless. If I asked her to describe your Lover’s Knot without looking at it, every detail would be perfect.”
“Where’s all this leading?”
She tilted her head. “Are you kidding? It’s odd enough that your grandmother left you that quilt. It’s not a perfect specimen by anybody’s standards. But now we discover it’s identical to one that wrapped a couple of bodies buried in a cave? Don’t you think there’s a story here? Or an answer to questions about your family’s past?”
“I
have
no questions about my family. You’re the one with the questions. And why do you care if I don’t? My mother died in a fire. My father could have been any one of dozens of men. My grandmother may or may not have been married to my mother’s father. I was dumped with a sadistic Air Force colonel and a woman he ground under his heel so long that she couldn’t stand up for either of us. And now a couple of dead bodies to boot.” He got to his feet.
She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Two things, Isaac. One, it’s the story of real people who had hopes and dreams just like people everywhere. And apparently one of your grandmother’s dreams was to give you a connection to them.”
He didn’t look at her. “You said two things.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop assuming the worst? The truth can’t possibly be any more sordid than your imagination. Your father made sure to rub your nose in the few details he had. But he was wrong about everything else, so why would he be right about your family? Don’t you want to know?”
With effort, he kept his voice steady and low. “No, I don’t.”
She dropped her hand. He stood still, looking out over the woods and his grandmother’s herb garden.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I’m sorry. And you’re right, it’s your past, not mine. I feel a bond with Leah Spurlock, living in her house, working in her garden. I’ll admit it. I almost feel her presence sometimes.”
“Please.”
“But it is your life,” she continued. “I’m sorry. I won’t go looking for answers if you don’t want me to.”
He gazed down at her. “Is this just another story? You can take the reporter out of the job but you can’t stop her from investigating?”
He watched her consider this. Kendra weighed every fact, a hazard of the job or maybe a trait she’d picked up in childhood, when facts were in short supply.
“No,” she said at last. “That’s not it.”
“And don’t tell me you want to pursue this because you want to know me better. That makes no sense at all.”
“Two new reasons, then,” she said.
“Again?”
“Just these last two. I want you to know
yourself
better, Isaac, because I think you’ll be happier. That’s the first thing. And here’s the second. I love you. And love is easier to share when it’s not all tangled up with everything else in your heart.”
The heart in question seemed to constrict. He looked down at this woman who had recently suffered so much and always demanded so little. They rarely talked about feelings. They were simply two private souls who had chosen with little fanfare to spend some part of their lives together.
Yet gazing at her face, he could not imagine a time when he would want to be with anyone else, when he would want to wake up and know Kendra had disappeared from his life. He didn’t trust words like
love
or
forever
, yet hearing her say that despite his failure to meet her needs, she still loved him, changed everything. One moment he was angry. Now he realized exactly what the anger covered.
“What will happen, K. C., if you find out my family story
is
even worse than I think it is?”
She frowned, as if she couldn’t imagine what he meant. Then she tilted her head. “Don’t you know it won’t make the slightest difference to me?”
He looked out toward the woods. He wondered what Leah Spurlock had thought about when she stared at this view. And Rachel, his mother. In that moment he felt the faintest tug of connection with the two women, and with the lives they had led here.
“Leah left you the quilt for a reason,” Kendra said. “It begins and ends there.”
“Go ahead, then.” He touched her shoulder; then he lifted his hand to push a lock of her hair over her ear.
She reached for his hand and brought it to her lips. “You’re sure?”
He gave a short nod before he could change his mind. “I’m going to dig some holes.”
“What?”
“You’ve got a drainage problem. I’m going to see if there’s any system in place. I’m just going to check it out. I’m sure your workers plan to bring in a backhoe at some point to fix it.”
“Jamie thought we ought to build a pond.”
“Jamie is welcome to come back and do it.” He ruffled her curls.
“Thank you, Isaac.”
He left before he could say anything more revealing.
T
wo weeks later, Kendra was standing on her own feet in every possible way. The ankle and wrist had healed, and Isaac had moved back to the Foggy Bottom condo. Although he didn’t complain, she knew he was putting in extra hours to make up for the time he had missed. He still managed to call almost every night, a change from her first weeks at the cabin. There was a new intimacy when they shared the details of their days. The calls lasted longer each night.
She wasn’t foolish enough to think that one fight or one conversation could change a marriage. But she did remember Lao Tzu’s T-shirt wisdom.
The weeks had been clear, and cooler than normal. She knew this was a blessing that wouldn’t last. As the ankle and wrist improved, she had gone back to work in Leah’s garden, perching on a stool and managing longer stints each day. She corralled Cash for a tour, and he pointed out the remnants of a few plantings. Through the years, tansy and peppermint had been victorious against weeds and formed determined, impenetrable mats. Horehound and lemon balm were vying for attention in patches all over the garden. She was fascinated by the array. She cleared with care, several reference guides beside her as she worked, imagining Leah cautioning or prodding as she moved between the rows.
When she woke up on Saturday morning, staying at home had no appeal. A cement mixer was on its way, and she knew it would earn its keep throughout the day. The attending noise wouldn’t be good for anything except a headache.
Quickly she showered and dressed; then, after greeting the crew, she headed for her car. She’d had an idea brewing, and this was clearly the day to see if she could make it happen.
It was just past eight when she knocked on Helen’s door. No one slept in at Helen’s, not with Reese in residence. Only seconds passed before Cissy flung the door open, Reese on her jeans-clad hip. She gave Kendra a big smile.
“Those workmen chase you out of your place?”
Inside, Kendra followed Cissy to the kitchen. “They’re working on the foundation for the addition. It seemed like a good day to disappear.”
“Reese and I are glad you disappeared this way—aren’t we, girl?”
Reese held out her arms to Kendra, as if begging to be released from the clutches of a torturer.
“I’m trying to get her to eat something besides Cheerios for breakfast,” Cissy explained. “So far she don’t—doesn’t much care for scrambled eggs.”
Kendra took the little girl and balanced her against her side. “You’re a drama queen, aren’t you.”
“Me a queen.” Reese nodded, clearly aware what it meant.
“Maybe you’ll have better luck,” Cissy said. “She always has to remind me who’s in charge, in case I forget.”
Kendra smiled down at the cherub in her arms. Something fiercely and forlornly maternal stirred inside her. “Do you like ketchup, Reese?”
Reese sized her up, pursing her lips in thought.
“Can she have ketchup?” Kendra asked.
“Sure. She likes it, too. I never thought about putting it on eggs.”
“My little sister ate it on everything.” Kendra settled Reese in an oak high chair that looked as if it had already served a dozen children. Cissy produced scrambled eggs and ketchup, and let Kendra do the honors. Kendra tasted them herself and realized she was hungry.
“Yum. If you don’t eat this, I will,” she told Reese, setting the plate on the tray. Then she turned her back as if she wasn’t interested.
Cissy took the cue and ignored her daughter, as well. “I’ve got cinnamon rolls Marian brought over last night. Ms. Henry’s bound to be down in a few minutes. I’ll put some coffee on.”
“I’d tell you not to go to any trouble, only I’d be happy if you did.”
“Take a seat at the table.”
Kendra squeezed past the high chair where Reese was trying to decide which was more important, proving independence or diving into the ketchup-splattered eggs. By the time Kendra was settled, the eggs had won. No one mentioned the victory.
“Ms. Henry will be glad to see you.” Cissy finished setting the table.
“I’ll be glad to see her, but I’m really here to see you.” Cissy looked pleased. “Me?”
“I’m taking a trip up to the Shenandoah National Park, and I want to see if Caleb is interested in riding along. I hope you and Reese will come, as well. And Helen, if she’s interested.”
“What am I interested in?” Helen came into the kitchen.
Kendra stood to greet her, but Helen waved her back into the chair. “I’ve just been finishing the binding on a quilt for the church fair next weekend.”
The fair was a fund-raiser for the church’s outreach ministry to prisoners. It promised to be a bit of excitement in their quiet community. “What kind of quilt?”
“It’s an old pattern my aunt Mavis made once upon a time, called Cactus Bloom. I still have her templates, cut from Cream of Wheat boxes after she traced the pattern from some newspaper or booklet. We thought maybe it was a good one for this. They say even a prickly cactus can flower if it’s given the chance. Not that I’m sure that’s true, mind you. But the ladies in the bee each made three blocks, some better than others, but it’s not going to shame anybody.”
“It’s a sight,” Cissy said. “Golds and oranges and reds on a pale blue background. People are coming from all over to bid on it.”
“She’s making that up,” Helen said. “They’re coming on account of there’s going to be a big rib cook-off, and the fire department’s standing by with their trucks, just in case, and giving rides to the children once the fire’s out.”
Helen lowered herself into the chair across from Kendra’s. Cissy brought cups and saucers and the cinnamon rolls, giving Reese one on the way, since the toddler had almost finished her eggs and was pounding a fist on the wooden tray.
Kendra brought Helen up to speed on her plans. “I want to see if I can find out more about the bodies in the cave and the quilt fragments.”
“You could just make a phone call. You don’t have to go all that way.”
“I thought about it. But I’d rather go myself and just see what I can. And it’s a beautiful day for a drive.”
“I’ve got to finish that quilt. But you all go on. Give me a day’s peace and quiet. You go with her, Cissy.”
“There’s a fiddlers’ contest somewhere or the other, and Zeke took some of his instruments to set up a booth. He left early. I don’t see why we couldn’t go.”
“Do you think we can persuade Caleb?” Kendra asked.
“Getting up into the mountains for a day would please him a lot. I’ll call Marian.” Cissy brought a pot of freshly brewed coffee to the table and set it on a trivet. After a quick phone conversation, she took a seat next to Helen and snagged a roll.
“Marian says he’d like to go, and she volunteered to watch Reese. Does anybody want scrambled eggs?”
Kendra, who had a clear view of the pulverized ketchup-and orange juice-laced remains of Reese’s, politely declined.
Twice since the night of the storm, Kendra had caught glimpses of Caleb. She’d sent word through Cissy that he was welcome to enjoy her woods anytime, and she had seen him the previous Sunday afternoon, working his way into the heart of them, perhaps tailing deer again or simply enjoying the way the trees were coming to life as summer officially approached. Another time she’d spotted him in a cornfield beside the Claibornes’ small ranch house, standing beside a tractor, talking to Ron Claiborne. She had been tempted to stop and offer her thanks again, but she knew he would be embarrassed.
She wanted to reward Caleb for helping her, but this was the first good solution she’d thought of. Money was out of the question, inappropriate and she suspected, insulting. Caleb had helped because she’d needed him, the way neighbors usually helped neighbors in this part of the world.
But Caleb was fourteen—she’d learned as much from Cissy. Young teens were not always aware of a community’s rules or interested in participating. Caleb might be having problems adjusting to his new life, but she was convinced he could have a worthwhile future, in spite of a difficult past. She wanted to make sure of it.
Now he passed Cissy and Reese on their path to the door. He wore brand-new jeans that were stiff enough to stand alone and a dark green T-shirt with a 4-H logo. She got out to greet him and saw that his eyes were the same dark green as his shirt. His reddish blond hair had been recently cut, and his skin was lightly tanned. He still had boyish features, a softly formed nose, chubby cheeks, but a square chin and jaw were signs of the man to come.
She extended her hand. “Hi, Caleb. It’s good to see you again. The circumstances are a lot happier this time.”
He didn’t smile. She thought smiles were probably a rarity in his life. But his face lightened a little, as if he had jumped some imaginary hurdle, and he shook her hand briefly.
The others joined them as Kendra struggled to think of a conversational topic. Reese was snuggling in her grandmother’s arms. Marian was medium height, with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense perm. She had probably never been a pretty woman, but she moved with a vitality that was both attractive and hard to ignore.
“I’ve got a whole day ahead of me with nothing much to do,” she said. “I’m glad to have this little one.”
Cissy took out the car seat in case Marian needed it later in the day. Caleb climbed in as soon as the backseat was clear. Cissy said goodbye to her daughter and joined Kendra in the front.
“The sun rises and sets on that little girl, but a day apart won’t hurt either of us one little bit.” Cissy didn’t sound completely sure.
“She’ll appreciate you even more by the time you get home,” Kendra promised.
She estimated the trip would take at least an hour and a half. She wanted to travel Route 11, a scenic byway through pastoral Shenandoah Valley fields and towns. And once she made the turns to Skyline Drive, which ran through the park and eventually connected to the Blue Ridge Parkway, the speed limit changed to 35 mph.
Once they were really under way, Cissy settled back into her seat. “I’m so glad we’re going. I love the park. Caleb, have you ever been there?”
A “no” came from the backseat, the first word he’d spoken.
“Did you know some of our people come from up there?”
He was quiet so long that Kendra wondered if he would answer. Finally he said, “Up where?”
Cissy didn’t seem disturbed at the length of time it had taken him. “I’m not sure where, exactly. Granny told me stories, though. I’m glad you’re going to see it.”
Kendra slowed as they drove through Woodstock, past attractive shops and the imposing Massanutten Military Academy. “What kind of stories?”
“About the way people were moved out of their homes to make way for the park. She was just a little girl when it happened. As far back as anyone could remember, her family had lived on land way up in the mountains. Then the government decided they had to have it all for a park. So they moved people out of there and left it for the hikers.”
“Just like that?”
Caleb’s question had come so swiftly it surprised Kendra. But she said nothing, listening to the brother and sister converse.
“That’s what she told me.”
Caleb was clearly interested. “Where’d they get moved?”
“I don’t know. She said they lived on a farm for a while, but they moved again after a time. I think they just didn’t know how to make a new life. They were basket-makers. Made and sold baskets, she said. I do remember that part. And once they left the mountains, they couldn’t get what they needed to make good ones. And they didn’t know how to make a good living farming. So they moved on.”
After a while Kendra filled the silence. “The government has the right to take over land it needs for the public good.”
“Some right, pushing people out of their homes,” Caleb said.
It was about the longest speech she’d heard from him. She encouraged it. “I know, on the surface it doesn’t sound fair, does it.”
“Sure doesn’t,” Cissy said. “Granny said her mama and daddy hardly ever talked to each other without fighting after that. He took to drinking and never gave it up. Her mama got old before her time and died too young. Granny struck out on her own after that and married a man she shouldn’t have, just so she’d have a place to go.”
Kendra knew that the effects of a forced move like the one from the park could destroy lives.
“Some people did okay,” Cissy said, as if she’d read Kendra’s thoughts. “Granny told me that, too.”
“Probably made her mama and daddy feel even worse,” Caleb said. “Them not being able to make it themselves.”
Kendra thought that was insightful. “There’s a lot of talk about this issue right now. The Supreme Court just ruled that cities can take over land to build shopping malls and office buildings if they benefit the economy.”
“You don’t move people just because you can,” Caleb said.
Kendra wondered how many times Caleb had been moved “just because you can.” Her heart went out to the boy who until now had never had a home he could really call his. She wondered if he felt he had one now.
They drove in silence for a while. As she made the turns that would get her to Skyline Drive and into the park, she told them about her Lover’s Knot quilt and Helen’s story of the cave. Cissy, who was as good at expressing her feelings as Caleb wasn’t, said she was happy to be coming along to investigate.
The scenery along Skyline Drive was beautiful, but to make sure they saw the best of it, Kendra pulled over at several scenic overlooks, so they could stretch and take advantage of the breathtaking vistas. They’d all been fairly quiet for the past half hour, but at the second one she asked Caleb if he’d ever done any wilderness hiking.
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
She wondered if there were any remnants of the heart problem that had affected his life. She remembered that he’d had surgery, but he seemed to have no limitations.
“Isaac—that’s my husband—loves hiking. I hike, too, although I get tired a lot faster than he does. The Appalachian Trail goes right through here.” She glanced at him and realized he didn’t know what she meant. “It’s a hiking trail that extends all the way from Maine to Georgia. Isaac and I did a weeklong hike along a section in New Hampshire several years ago.” She tried to read Caleb’s expression. “Does that sound like fun?”