She couldn’t. Thinking of a life without Jesse, even a Jesse who wasn’t talking to her anymore, was like thinking of one without stars or sun. When she tried to imagine it, the world went dark.
She gazed down at the ground. “I had a dream last night. I dreamed he was standing on the roof of the barn with a shotgun. Crows were flying at him, flocks of crows like nothing you’d ever want to see. I shouted and shouted, but Jesse, well, he wouldn’t get down. And every time he took a shot, nothing came out of that shotgun but…” She shook her head, the dream gripping her again.
“What?”
“Blood.” She looked up. “Blood came a-running out of those barrels. I told my sister the dream before breakfast. Birdie reckons if you do that, a dream won’t come true.”
“It’s the other way around. If you tell a dream before breakfast, it
will
come true.”
She was upset enough, off balance enough, to be worried that Birdie, who lived her life by signs and superstitions, had gotten this wrong. The worry must have shown in her face, because Daniel put his hands on her arms.
“It’s just a silly superstition. But here’s something that is true. There’ll be no future with your husband if he tries to stay here. The government won’t tolerate resistance. So far people have left peacefully, but everyone is prepared in case it doesn’t always go that way.”
“They would shoot us on our own land?”
“It’s not yours anymore. It’s gone. But this land on the river can be yours forever.”
“Two women alone?”
“Perhaps you wouldn’t always be alone, Leah.”
His meaning was clear. He wanted to be with her. They could live on the river together, and if she divorced Jesse, or he died defending what was his by right if not by law, then one day she and Daniel would marry.
She held out the candy, but he shook his head.
“I brought it all that way for you. It wouldn’t be right to take it back.”
He pulled her closer. She resisted only a little. Her limbs were heavy; her shoes had soles of lead. He smiled down at her.
“It’s hard for me to watch you being treated so badly and to see you worrying so much that you have those awful dreams. You deserve a lot more. When was the last time anyone was good to you? Can you tell me?”
She gave one shake of her head. He sighed, as if he had been afraid of that. His arms tightened around her.
“I want to be good to you.”
This time, when his lips sought hers, she didn’t deny him.
Behind her, from the direction of the house, the dogs began to bark. Then, as if he was closer than he was, Jesse’s voice drifted toward them as he tried to silence the animals.
A door slammed. Leah jumped back, her eyes wide, her lips tingling. “I have to go.”
“Tomorrow night, then.”
She tucked the parcel under her arm and, without a backward glance, started toward the house. But once Daniel was out of sight, she took a detour to the farmyard and fed the wrapped candy, bar by bar, to the hogs.
T
o make her trip into the city easier, Isaac had suggested that Kendra park in the driveway of an ACRE colleague who lived near the Metro in Arlington. That way, when she was ready to head back to the cabin, she could take the Metro to her car and never have to brave D.C. traffic.
Of course, Arlington’s traffic was nearly as bad. Kendra was glad when she finally found the house on a quiet street in the Lyon Park neighborhood, not far from the restaurant where they planned to have dinner. She parked, then gathered her purse and the overnight bag she had packed. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She was packing for a weekend in her own home.
Although she’d gotten to Arlington fifteen minutes early, Isaac was already waiting. Her undemonstrative husband scooped her into his arms and kissed her before she could walk back to his Prius to stow her bag. She hugged him back.
“It’s so good to see you here.” He pushed her hair back from her face. “You made the drive okay?”
“I made the drive fine. But have you noticed all the maniacs on the roads?”
“You used to be one of them. You were a take-no-prisoners maniac.”
“Well, I’m a recovering maniac now.” She smiled at him, glad from the tips of her toes to be with him again. “You look great. Who picked out that shirt?” It was a subtle earth-tone plaid, worn with a nubby linen jacket and a gold tie. The combination made his eyes look even an even darker brown.
“You did.”
“I have the best taste.”
Reluctantly, he released her; then he took the suitcase, and, arms around each other’s waists, they walked to his car. He put her bag in the backseat and hit the lock.
“Since we’re early, why don’t I show you something before we head for the restaurant.”
“Like what?”
“Barry’s house.”
Barry was ACRE’s staff attorney. Kendra hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings except to find the right street and number, but now she turned to look at the house in question. “Oh, nice,” she said with real appreciation. “Wow. But what’s to see from here?”
“He’s out of town, and I promised I’d check on it in exchange for the use of his driveway.”
She gladly followed him up a blue flagstone walkway lined with blooming perennials in asymmetrical curving borders. The house was charming, a shingled Craftsman-style bungalow, probably built sometime in the 1920s. It had a deep front porch and a side-gabled second story. It looked perfectly at home on a street of eclectic older houses, all well kept up.
“I wonder how he found this little gem,” she said.
“It was a fixer-upper. And he paid a lot of attention to detail in his renovations. I thought you’d enjoy seeing it.”
Kendra fell in love the moment she stepped through the door. The house was small, but perfect in every way. Golden oak floors, new wood frame windows, beautifully executed crown molding, a kitchen with granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances. She wandered as Isaac watered a Christmas cactus. There was a small oak-paneled study, a cozy living room lined with bookshelves, a powder room off the kitchen. A family room had been added in the back, sporting a window wall that looked over a stone patio and a tiny yard enclosed with a privacy fence.
“Do you think he’d care if I peeked at the second floor?” she asked.
“Go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Upstairs, she wandered, admiring smallish bedrooms and a newly redone bathroom. Then she came to the master suite. It had a loftier version of the family-room view, with windows that framed the attractive neighborhood behind them and a bathroom worthy of hours in the garden tub.
“Barry has excellent taste,” Kendra said, when Isaac joined her. “I could move right in here and be supremely contented.”
“Well, that’s good, because you can, if you want to.”
She hadn’t suspected. “Barry’s selling?”
His smile dipped just a fraction, but she knew him too well not to note it. “We’re experiencing a staff exodus, and unfortunately, he’s one who’s leaving. He took a job out in Seattle. He’s had the house professionally appraised. If we pay his asking price, he won’t get a Realtor. It’s not cheap, but we’ll make a nice profit when we sell the condo. We can swing it.”
“But you like living in the city.”
“If we’re going to keep the Rug and the Rascal, we can’t stay there. On the other hand, they’d be perfectly happy in this yard. It means leaving earlier for work in the mornings, but there’s a little community center around the corner with all kinds of neighborhood activities, and Clarendon’s within walking distance, for restaurants and fun.”
Isaac had done his homework and had prepared the sales pitch. Kendra didn’t know what to say. There were wonderful neighborhoods right in the city. In fact, Foggy Bottom was one of them. But he knew that a little extra distance from the scene of the crime would serve her well as she continued to recover. She was already in love with the house and the neighborhood.
“You’re doing this for me.” She put her arm around his waist. “Don’t deny it.”
“Sure, and for the four-leggeds. And so I’ll have a wife again.” He leaned his head against hers. “And because I need something in my life besides work and more work. And because this makes the drive to the Valley a little shorter. It’s not so much house we can’t manage both it and the house there.”
“When do we have to let Barry know?”
“He’s at a training session. He said we could tell him in two weeks when he gets back. He’s not worried. It will sell like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But I’ve indicated a strong interest.”
This time, she thought, as perfect as it was, she wouldn’t buy the furniture. Not even if Barry was selling it to make moving to the West Coast easier. She would paint the walls her own colors, carefully select bright accent rugs for the beautiful wood floors, choose a mix of antiques and reproductions to highlight the architecture and historical period.
If
they bought it.
“We’re lucky to have some time.” She lifted on tiptoe and kissed him. “No matter what happens, thank you for thinking of this.”
Over Vietnamese food in nearby Clarendon, a neighborhood replete with ethnic restaurants and charm, Isaac listened as Kendra told him what she had learned from Charlie. As the restaurant filled to overflowing, he watched her for signs of stress and saw nothing to alarm him. She was doing well. Their lives might get back to normal soon.
He no longer knew what that meant
.
She finished her story. “Charlie said that at the end, your grandmother rejected Daniel, but he wasn’t able to go into much detail. His son and family came home, and I took off to meet you. At least now we know Daniel Flaherty wasn’t one of the bodies in that cave.”
“There would have been reports of an official missing in the mountains. You’d have discovered that in your research.”
“I know, but this whole thing is so strange, I’m prepared for almost anything.” She smiled at him over the remnants of her green papaya salad.
“What’s that smile about?”
“I’m just happy being here, being with you, enjoying thoughts of how the night will end.”
He especially liked that last part, too. It was almost enough to make him spill the remaining drops of soup. “And going back to the condo?”
“I’m even looking forward to that. Maybe it will be a farewell trip.”
He knew better than to follow up too closely. Kendra needed time to think about Barry’s house. Theoretically, they should even look at real estate in more neighborhoods to compare. But he had a feeling they weren’t going to bother.
“So tell me about the party,” she said.
Their entrées came. Chicken with lemongrass and curry for her. Beef with eggplant for him. He figured that even if the house wasn’t perfect, living this close to some of the best Vietnamese restaurants in the region would convince her to move here.
He told her who would be at the party and warned her that there might be tension. But when she asked for details, he refused. “I want you to give me your unbiased assessment.”
They chatted about everything except the house and his job. Kendra carried the bulk of the conversation. Caleb was dog-sitting. He had shown her the photos he’d taken on their camping trip, and she thought they were exceptionally good. He had promised to e-mail them to Isaac.
She had caught Ten playing with Dusty, and when she came back through the room ten minutes later, the two were curled up within a foot of each other, sleeping it off.
The tomatoes she had planted in Leah’s garden plot were growing so fast she’d already had to put wire cages around them.
He listened to the recital of quiet days and small pleasures, and felt a stab of envy. He wondered if he had always worked hard because he was afraid that if his life lay fallow, even briefly, he wouldn’t like what he discovered about himself.
He paid the bill, and they walked to their car. He was surprised at how quickly they got into the city and the historic Foxhall neighborhood near Georgetown, where Dennis had bought an expansive Tudor. Even though Dennis had hired two valets, Isaac found a place on his own and parked on the street. He came around to open Kendra’s door.
“He certainly spared no expense,” he said.
“You mean the hired help or the house? What on earth does he get paid?”
“The board wanted him badly.”
They strolled up the walkway, hand in hand—his idea. A pretty young woman, in black pants and a starched white shirt and bow tie, let them in.
Kendra was swept up in a flurry of welcomes. It was the first time the ACRE staff had seen her since the carjacking, and she was immediately wrapped in good wishes. A caterer in the bow tie uniform of the evening handed Isaac a glass of champagne. Another offered a selection of desserts from a black lacquered tray.
He wandered through the crowd, chatting with colleagues and board members. Although he was congratulated repeatedly for his work on securing Pallatine Mountain, he discovered it was hard to be gracious. Pallatine was like a lump in his throat, and he couldn’t clear it away.
Dennis saw Isaac and motioned for him to come to the corner of the formal dining room, where he stood with another man. Light illuminating a side garden filtered in through multipaned leaded-glass windows. The table held an array of finger foods, and a trio of elaborate cheese-cakes garnished with candied roses and violets.
“Isaac, do you know Miles Wainwright, deputy secretary of the Department of the Interior?”
Isaac didn’t. A nondescript man in his late fifties, Wainwright wore the ubiquitous dark suit, pastel shirt and striped tie of every D.C. bureaucrat. Isaac shook hands and listened as Dennis regaled the deputy secretary with praise for Isaac’s contributions. When Wainwright was called away to meet someone else, Dennis turned to Isaac.
“He’s a good connection for your future.”
Isaac snagged a second flute of champagne. “I hear he knows how to work the administration to get things done.”
“Stick with me and you’ll make all the contacts you need. I know you won’t be with us forever, but when it’s time for you to move on, I can make sure you move right into a job you want.”
Dennis was not short on ego, but he wasn’t exaggerating by much. He had worked his way to the top in both the private sector and government, and his contacts were the major reason ACRE’s board paid him so extravagantly.
“I like giving good recommendations,” Dennis said. “They’re rare enough. I’ve had to give a few real stinkers in my time. I can’t recommend someone who’s not a team player.”
Isaac knew a warning when he heard one. The introduction to Wainwright, the pep talk, and now the stiletto slipped silently between the ribs. He was tempted to ask Dennis just to spit out what he wanted. But he
was
too much of a team player to be rude.
“I’ve always given any team I’m in sync with my all,” Isaac said carefully.
“You gave your all with Pallatine. We all know that. It was a coup for you and your assistant. What’s her name? Holly? No, Heather.”
“Heather Griswold.”
“It’s too bad she’s leaving. And under a cloud.”
For a moment Isaac thought he’d heard Dennis wrong. “Heather’s leaving?”
Dennis raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“So am I. What do you mean, under a cloud?”
“She wrote to the board about the construction on Pallatine. Of course they’d approved it themselves, so there was no real point to her letter. But it created a flurry when we needed calm. If she hadn’t resigned, I probably would have fired her.”
Isaac wondered when Heather had done this. A bigger question was why she hadn’t come to him first, and that answer wasn’t hard to find. Heather believed that once Isaac’s mind was made up, he moved forward. There was no room for doubt. She had told him as much.
“Heather’s an idealist,” Isaac said. “We need idealists and hard workers. I’m sorry she’s leaving.”
Dennis clapped him on the back as if they were golf buddies. “We’ll find somebody who’s able to keep the big picture in front of them. Pallatine is a good thing. Better us than someone else, right?”
Isaac wondered. Would other environmental organizations capable of this kind of purchase have taken the easy way out? Or would they have shopped more carefully for a better solution? Dennis had decided to sell portions of Pallatine to ACRE’s largest contributors so that everyone could be happy.
Everyone except Gary Forsythe, the man who was selling them the land so that it would be protected and preserved for all time.
Everyone except Isaac Taylor, whose family had, for generations, looked over Pallatine Mountain, and whose days had been shaped by that pristine view.
“Do you happen to know where Heather’s going?” Isaac wished she had consulted with him before she made the move. Heather was too talented to waste her skills.
“Some grassroots group. From what I can tell, she’ll be living on beans and singing old Pete Seeger songs.” Dennis dismissed more talk of Heather with a wave of his hand. “Pallatine is set to go. We’ll be signing the papers next week. Would you like to be there?”
“Does Mr. Forsythe know your plans for financing?”