Kendra looked up. The new stitch was no better than the first. “What do you mean?”
“She took care of me when I was sick. During the war, it was. I had a stillborn baby, a little girl, and Leah stayed with me for a week while I recovered. My own mother was in Tennessee, and my husband was off in the South Pacific. My motherin-law had five children still at home. Leah came without being asked, and nobody could have been kinder. That woman had gentle hands. And she knew just what to say to make me feel better.”
Dovey looked down at the new stitches Kendra had taken. “Better, but take ’em out again.”
“I have no aptitude.”
“You have no patience. Take ’em out.”
Kendra picked at the stitches with her fingernail. “Did Leah ever tell you anything about herself? We know so little.”
Dovey considered that. Finally she looked up. “I was real unhappy. You can understand it. I’d counted on that baby to help with having my husband off in the war. I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. One night Leah made me a cup of some herbal tea to help me sleep, and she told me that someday I would feel better, even if I didn’t believe it right then. She said she had lost people she loved, so she knew what she was talking about. But she said that one day the pain would only be a dull ache, and I could learn to live with that. You know, if she had told me one day I’d forget that baby, then I wouldn’t have thought much of her. But a dull ache? That was something I could believe. It helped.”
Kendra knew this wasn’t idle conversation. Dovey wanted her to know how much she had thought of Isaac’s grandmother so that she would pass it on to him. “Was she right?”
“I went on to have two healthy boys and another girl. But I never forgot the first one. I never forgot Leah, either. I told people how much help she’d been to me, and she got some jobs because of it. I wished I could have done more.”
Kendra wondered if a woman with hands that gentle could have used them to commit murder.
A
n hour before sunset Kendra filled a saucepan with water for linguine and picked out a jar of sauce to pour over it. In a moment of creative whimsy, she decided to add new ingredients instead of serving it the way she normally did, unadorned and unappreciated. A search of the refrigerator turned up half a dozen possibilities. With nothing better to do, she took out a red pepper, half a zucchini and a carton of mushrooms, adding a chicken breast at the last minute. As she sliced and chopped, she thought of Isaac’s gourmet pad thai and his quiet pride that he was mastering a new skill. Isaac, who had made no plans to see her next weekend.
She was sautéing the vegetables when she heard a loud explosion and the screeching of wheels. She turned off the burner and headed for the porch, wiping her hands on her jeans. Dusty wagged her tail as Kendra stepped over her.
She got there just in time to see a battered pickup making a circle in the clearing just outside her door. As the truck nearly missed a tree, she heard shouting from the occupants and glimpsed a cab crowded with bodies. A beer can soared from the window on the passenger side and bounced off the hood of her Lexus. The truck backfired, most likely the source of the explosion she’d heard, and, weaving from side to side, sped back the way it had come. A flurry of more beer cans bounced in its wake.
She leaned against the porch railing and stared into the clearing, willing the truck to stay away. She was afraid she had just been treated to one of the downsides of country living.
The clearing grew quiet. As if they sensed danger had passed, the crickets began to chirp, and, farther away, near the riverbank, she could hear the faintest croaking of a bullfrog.
Her heart was pounding too fast, but she was aware of something else. She was anxious, yes. She didn’t want the pickup and its occupants returning for more mischief. But she was anxious, not terrified. She was angry that her peace had been disturbed. Both were normal emotions under the circumstances.
Maybe she really was on the way to recovery.
As if to challenge that, lights peeked through the clearing. She leaned over the railing for one more look before she went to the telephone. But something stopped her. It was the absence of noise. The pickup had an engine that roared, probably tuned for that effect. The lights growing steadily brighter were accompanied by the chirping of crickets and nothing more. She only knew one person who drove a car that quiet.
She met Isaac in the clearing, puzzled by his sudden appearance and thrilled by his timing. He got out and slammed his door.
“Are you okay?”
She knew why he was asking. “Are
you
okay? Did you run into them on the driveway?”
“They were just coming out. I’m surprised they made it, the way they were weaving, but they didn’t hit me. What happened?”
“Nothing much. They came wheeling in, threw some beer cans, turned around and left. I heard either a gunshot or the truck backfiring. It was too dark to see a license plate, or I’d call and report them. But they’ll be long gone before anyone can get out here.”
He put his hands on her arms. “You’re okay?”
Her smile felt genuine. “Yes, I really am. I didn’t panic. I—”
His hands gripped her arms tighter. “Well, damn it,
I
panicked! All I could think was that somebody had hurt you again!”
“They didn’t.”
“What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Do you see now why this is such a bad idea? What if those guys wanted more than a joyride and a garbage dump?”
This time she spaced the words. “They didn’t.”
He dropped his hands. “You still don’t get it, do you.”
Anger flared. This had been a milestone, but he saw it only as another excuse to prove a point. “Are you going to tell me how safe I’d be in the city, Isaac? Because we both know that didn’t prove to be the case.”
“Well, maybe it would have been if you’d used some sense.”
She stared at him without risking a reply.
Moments passed as he considered his words. “Or if I had,” he said at last.
She relaxed a little. “Coming here was my own choice. You don’t have to feel guilty if anything happens to me.”
“You think this is guilt?”
She searched his expression and saw everything but guilt. Concern bordering on terror. Anger at her stubbornness. And love. Plain and simple and utterly naked.
The anger disappeared, and she touched his cheek. “I’m sorry you were frightened, but I’m fine. And I
was
frightened for a moment, but not terrified. I’m recovering, Isaac. I’m starting to feel like myself again. That can only be good, right?”
He sighed; then he turned his head and kissed her hand before he took it and folded it into his own. “I worry, K. C. There are a lot of miles between us.”
She knew he wasn’t talking about highways and country roads. “You traveled some of them on a weeknight to see me. I have to say, I’m really surprised. What’s up?”
“I’m taking the rest of the week off.”
She wasn’t sure she had heard him right. “You’re doing what?”
“Time off. It’s called using my annual leave.”
She knew something was going on when he didn’t say more. She also knew he would only tell her when the time felt right. “Well, I’m thrilled.”
“I had another reason for coming, other than to see you. Something for Caleb.” His bleak expression softened. “But being with you was the big one.”
She had spent the past week wishing Isaac were different and wondering if she could live with the man he was. Now all the arguments seemed to melt away. He might be detached from his feelings, but the feelings were there, deep and powerful and worth the exploration.
“And I have enough supper for two. What a deal.” She turned back to the house. “The water should be boiling. I’ll put the pasta on.”
She took a moment to breathe as she slid the pasta into the water, then flipped on the burner and reheated the vegetables. She was just putting the chicken into the oil when she heard Isaac’s voice.
“Kendra, is this thing on the floor a dog or a rug?”
Caleb’s eyes widened when he saw the computer monitor in Isaac’s arms. Kendra had called first to check with Marian. The computer was Isaac’s previous home computer, still powerful and up to date enough that Caleb could learn whatever he needed on it.
“You need one to download your photos,” Kendra told Caleb. “And for schoolwork. Mr. and Mrs. Claiborne said it was all right to give this to you.”
Caleb stepped aside, and Isaac carried the computer monitor into the boy’s bedroom. Ron Claiborne followed with the processor. Kendra followed with a box of odds and ends.
The room was painted a masculine shade of gray blue, and the bedspread was a green and blue plaid. The furniture was old but comfortable-looking, not antique, but heavy dark wood. The most significant thing about the room was the complete absence of personal touches. The bookshelf was nearly empty. The walls had no posters. The bulletin board had one 4-H newsletter pinned in the middle. The dresser top was clear, and the desk Isaac set the computer on had two books piled neatly on one corner.
The institutional flavor was depressing.
“This is just what this room needs,” Marian said, clapping her hands. “My sons were pack rats. You never saw so much stuff in one place. This will liven it up, make it more fun for Caleb to come in here in the evenings.”
Caleb touched the computer monitor almost reverently. “I might mess it up.”
Isaac seemed to understand. “It’s yours now. You can jump up and down on it when we leave, and nobody will care. I don’t need it anymore and it’s just taking up space in a corner. So you can’t do anything wrong.”
“I never had a computer.”
Again Isaac rescued him. “Mind if I stay a while and show you some things about this one? I have a lot of software installed. I’ll show you how to download your photos if you have any.”
The two males were plugging in the computer and fooling with an alarming number of cords when Kendra, Marian and Ron backed out and left them alone.
“I hope that does it,” Marian said as she led Kendra to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. “You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get him to make that room his own. But there’s never as much as a sock on the floor. And he won’t put anything on the walls. Says it will hurt the paint.”
“You’re doing such a good job. It’s just going to take him some time to realize this is home.” Kendra paused, then decided she had to ask the next question. “It
is
home, isn’t it? As long as he needs one?”
“As far as we’re concerned, it’s his home forever. We want to adopt him.”
Kendra felt a wave of relief. “I am so glad.”
“Cissy’s in favor, and we’ve talked to his social worker. She thinks it will go through with no fuss if he wants it. But he has to agree. So far, we haven’t brought it up. We’re just waiting for him to give some sign he’s comfortable here.” Marian waved her to a chair and went to the counter to make a fresh pot. Ron had gone back outside to work on his pickup by porch light.
“Isaac understands Caleb,” said Kendra. “He wasn’t raised in the best circumstances, either. I’m glad they’re spending some time together.”
“The way some people treat kids…It’s a crying shame.”
The kitchen was seductively pleasant. The windows were open, and the smell of freshly mown grass lingered in the air. The wallpaper was blue and yellow; the white cabinets had blue ceramic knobs. A sign on the refrigerator read A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.
Kendra enjoyed listening to Marian bustling around filling the pot, scooping the coffee and readying cups. Outside, Ron tried revving the ailing engine. Mild profanity punctuated the too-frequent silences.
Marian set cream and sugar on the table and brought the coffee once it had finished.
“It’s nice to have you here,” she said, sinking into the chair across from Kendra’s. “I’m busy, but I always take time to sit when a neighbor visits.”
“Maybe we ought to make sure somebody visits every day. I think you need time off your feet.”
Marian stirred her coffee, but she smiled, as if she appreciated that someone had noticed. “I was born not far down the road. The oldest of six. I grew up working hard.”
Kendra hadn’t realized Marian was that local. “Did you know Isaac’s mother, Rachel Spurlock?”
“She used to babysit for us once in a while. She was just that much older.”
“Do you mind telling me what you remember about her? Isaac knows so little—only what I’ve managed to find out.”
Marian didn’t seem to think that strange. Kendra wondered, if like Dovey, she had heard the stories.
“Rachel, well, she loved the outdoors, like our Caleb.”
Kendra liked the sound of “our Caleb.”
“You could hardly keep her indoors,” Marian said. “Even when she was babysitting, we always went outside. Played ball or tag or something. Some people thought she was strange, but I never did. She had an imagination. She liked to pretend. Even when we played tag, it was always cowboys and Indians, or spacemen, or knights and dragons.”
Although Isaac had a different kind of imagination, Kendra thought one reason he had climbed so far was his ability to imagine a multitude of solutions to difficult problems and choose the best among them.
“Once she told me her daddy was a prince,” Marian said. “I never forgot that. For the longest time, I believed her. She said he had left her in Toms Brook because there were bad men in his kingdom who wanted to harm her. But one day, when he was king, she would go home, and her daddy would tell everyone she was his princess.”
“How old was she then, do you think?”
Marian considered. “Fifteen maybe? I don’t think she believed it, but she was a dreamer. I always wondered if that’s why she left, you know, because she had all these dreams, and none of them were going to come true in this little town of ours.”
“Were they practical dreams?”
“I don’t think the girl had a very tight grip on reality.” Kendra wondered how tightly Rachel had gripped reality on the afternoon a stranger told her that her mother had murdered her father. Perhaps it had explained so much that there was no reason to question.
Marian changed the subject. “Caleb liked his trip up to the park. He doesn’t talk much. You’ve noticed that. But he told me a lot about that day. He even had a few things to say about the fair. I’m grateful to you and your husband for the interest you’ve showed. It helps him.”
“Have any of the boys he met at the fair given him a call?”
Marian brightened. “He went over to Gayle Fortman’s house yesterday. They went on a hike, him and her son and that Leon Jenkins. I had to push, but he went, and I think he had a good time.”
“That’s great.”
There was a whoop from the direction of Caleb’s bedroom. “I think they got it hooked up,” Kendra said with a grin. “But which one of the guys was that?”
“Beats me. But I think you’ll be here a while. Want some pie to go with that coffee?”
Many things in life were overrated, but not make-up sex. Hours later, a deeply satisfied Isaac lay next to Kendra and listened to the roar of crickets outside the open window. Summer was rushing their way. The night air was cool, but the room felt still and muggy from the afternoon’s higher temperatures.
“I can’t wait for the house to be finished.” Beside him, Kendra pillowed her head on her hands and stared up at the ceiling. Her slender body was an ivory statue in the moonlight, marred only by the scar across her abdomen. “I love this cabin, but I’m not going to love living here in July.”
He didn’t point out that she could come back to the city. He was finally beginning to understand why she had chosen to recover here. “It’s peaceful. When I visit now, the tension drains away. There’s a lot to drain away these days.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and stroked his chest. “It’s not like you to take off from work on a moment’s notice.”
He realized he wanted to tell her what was worrying him, that in fact he had only been waiting until he had time to tell this right. “ACRE’s going ahead with selling portions of Pallatine Mountain. Dennis is sure it’s the only way we can afford to buy it. Of course the covenants will be strict. But frankly, not nearly strict enough.”