Small-Town Dreams (29 page)

“She knows you don’t blame her, Jeff, but guilt is difficult to get over.”

“What can I do for her? She shouldn’t be wasting her time on me like this. I keep trying to get her to give up.”

“You could accept her help graciously. Let her work through her guilt. If making restitution is her way to do that, then let her. She needs you right now as much as I think you need her.”

“You ready to head home?” Hope called as she walked up the aisle from where the band had begun to pack their instruments. Jeff had been so engrossed in his conversation with Jim Dillon he hadn’t seen her enter the sanctuary. That rarely happened to him. He was usually so in tune to her presence. It seemed to light a room for him when she entered.

Jim Dillon stood and reached out to shake hands, startling Jeff out of his thoughts. “I enjoyed our talk, Jeff. Come again. You ask thoughtful questions. It keeps a guy on his toes.”

Oddly, Jeff thought he might return. The people of the Tabernacle were warm and friendly, and not once, even when questioned by the Osborne kid, had he felt like a side-show freak. Or that he’d been labeled an infidel even after questioning their pastor’s sacred beliefs. It was an odd place, this Tabernacle. “I just may do that,” Jeff said, as surprised as Hope obviously was by his answer.

It had been a night of surprises. Jeff had thought the man would act all puritanical and be horribly scandalized by his and Hope’s living situation, even though she wasn’t staying in the house. But instead, Hope’s pastor thought she should stay at Lavender Hill and work though her guilt. And even more monumental was the surprising fact that tonight Jeffrey Carrington had come to the realization that he did believe there was a God. What His role was in the universe beyond a detached creator, though, Jeff had yet to decide. But he’d think about it.

He’d definitely think about it.

H
ope answered the door to the main house the next afternoon and was surprised to find her father standing there. She had missed him terribly, and instinctively a smile bloomed on her face. It was so good to see him. They might argue, but he’d always been a great presence and strong influence in her life. As he wrapped his solid arms around her in an affectionate hug, she tiptoed to kiss his cheek and remembered what she’d always known—they might not agree on everything, but he loved her.

“Dad! Oh, it’s so good to see you. I missed you Sunday when I was over for dinner.”

“I was busy,” he replied, his tone gruff.

“Cole said.” He’d also said that her father was busy filling in for her because he’d yet to even try to replace her. It hurt to know she was needed but that Ross wouldn’t take her help. She could help Jeff stay on track and keep Lavender Hill running smoothly and still do the more specialized parts of her job for Laurel Glen if only Ross hadn’t fired her. It would have been hard, but she could have done it.

“Do you want to come in? I have time right now, but Jeff’s working with his therapist.”

Ross scowled. “I didn’t come to socialize with Carrington.”

“Then you came to see me?” she asked, sorry that Jeff was still a sore spot between them. She’d hoped time and distance would soften his attitude and that he had come to see how Jeff was progressing.

Ross stepped inside. “You’re the only thing over here that I care about, Hope,” he replied, and followed her into the too-bright parlor of Lavender Hill’s main house.

“Kat Carrington could have decorated the Parthenon,” he grumbled. “This place always reminded me of a mausoleum.”

Hope looked at the white, rough-coat walls and marble columns and floors. She chuckled as she walked down the marble steps into the conversation pit in the center of the room. “She did overdo the marble, didn’t she? Jeff calls it early Roman hotel lobby.”

“That’s one thing we agree on,” Ross said.

Hope ignored the gibe and tried for a little more small talk. “This room and the formal dining room are the worst. Jeff can’t conveniently use this room anymore, of course, which is one of the few inconveniences of his paralysis that he doesn’t mind. He just skirts the upper perimeter on his way to the family wing. It has a lovely Italian country kitchen and breakfast nook plus a wonderfully cozy family room. I can give you the grand tour if you want.”

Her father’s left eyebrow arched. Hope nearly smiled seeing the exact expression she’d inherited from her father. It drove Jeff crazy. She braced herself, though, knowing any accord between them was quite possibly at an end.

“You’ve certainly settled in here. I don’t approve of you living in residence with two bachelors.”

Any remaining levity fled, and Hope’s heart fell. Agitated, she hooked a stray lock of hair behind her left ear. “Oh, Dad. I thought you knew me better than that,” she said sadly. “I haven’t settled in. I’m staying in the homestead house around back. And, believe me, when Emily Roberts isn’t acting like our mother, she’s a bulldog of a chaperone. She even took over a room near Curt and Jeff when we moved them downstairs into the guest wing.”

Hope didn’t add that the older woman had moved mainly in case Jeff woke screaming in pain in the night and Curt didn’t hear him. She, at least, trusted Hope’s integrity.

On the off chance that if Ross knew her presence was doing some good and Jeff was coming out of his depression, Hope added, “By the way, I’m not sure you care, but Jeff’s doing much better.”

“I care. I care that you’re wasting your life on a worthless, selfish cripple. If he was any kind of man, he’d be able to keep going without you sacrificing your career.”

Angry tears sprung to Hope’s eyes. “I had hoped your coming here like this represented a change of heart, but I see you’re as closed-minded as always.”

Ross shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “I am
not
closed-minded! Think about what you’re doing. What’s that saying? ‘How far do you have to open your mind before your brains fall out?’ I happen to know what I’m talking about where Carrington is concerned. I watched that kid grow up. He drove Addison crazy with his irresponsibility. That boy’s faults were all he could talk about.”

“Jeff is far from irresponsible, Dad. Did it ever occur to you that Addison might have been a lousy father? Or that his opinion was colored by unrealistic expectations? Believe me, they were. He was hypercritical, unbending and controlling. Think about it. As disgusted as you’ve been with Cole, did you ever talk about him that way to a mere acquaintance?

“And Jeff’s mother was so involved in her clubs and charities and tennis games that she scarcely noticed her child past his toddler years. Mrs. Roberts was more Jeff’s mother than Katrina Carrington was. Have you ever stopped to think how hard Jeff worked to get where he was? To get on the Olympic team you have to be the best of the best, and his place on the team wasn’t even in question when he had the accident.”

“So what? He was just after glory. Glory that costs a fortune and gives no return. He was spending every penny Addison ever made, and probably still is. When it’s gone, he’s not going to know what hit him. I don’t want him to pull you down any more than he already has. Look at you. He’s turned you into his personal cheerleader and social secretary.”

“Jeff is a good and decent man who had his whole world destroyed in one fell swoop. He was lost for a while, but even then he tried to send me on my way. I didn’t budge then and I’m still not going to.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Hope anchored her hands on her hips, trying not to lose her temper. “No, I’m not. That’s not the first time you’ve said that to me. What I am is his friend. When I’m convinced that he’s the best he’s going to be mentally as well as physically and I know he can run Lavender Hill, then I’ll consider leaving, but not before. I think you’d understand how I feel. You share responsibility for his accident. But instead of feeling guilty for the condition of your tack, all you’ve done is criticize him. Is that how you justify your guilt?”

Ross Taggert stared at her for a long minute. She could see him trying to get hold of his rather formidable temper. “Get this straight, Hope,” he said, his teeth gritted. “I am not responsible, nor are you. A rider of Jeffrey Carrington’s caliber should have checked his own girth. Besides which, the last time I used that saddle the girth was in perfect condition.”

“So it just magically wore out in one ride? Come on, Dad.”

Her father turned away, anchoring his fisted hands on his lean hips, then he dropped them to his sides and pivoted to face her. “I came by to tell you that your job is waiting.”

“Then I’ll be back to work in the morning.”

Ross shook his head. “No. I won’t condone you living here at his beck and call, but I won’t destroy your career the way Carrington is willing to do, either. Officially, you’re on a leave of absence. When he shows his true, spoiled colors, you’ll be welcome home. We miss you. I’ll see myself out.”

Hope watched her father’s stiff back as he moved into the hall that led to the foyer. The faint squeak of Jeff’s wheelchair on the marble tiles alerted her to his presence. She wondered how much he’d heard. She didn’t have to wait long.

“So I guess I can lay your father’s animosity toward me partially at Addison’s feet. I always wondered why Ross had developed such a bad opinion of me.”

“His opinion is wrong. He doesn’t know you at all.”

“But his heart
is
in the right place. He loves you, Hope. Don’t throw away something I’ve always wanted. He’s just looking after you. Maybe you should do what he says.”

“Are you trying to throw me out again?”

Jeff shook his head and stared at her for a long, charged moment. Was that longing she saw in his eyes? And if it was, longing for what?

“I should toss you out,” he said at last, his voice an octave deeper and a bit strained. “If I was half the man your father is, I would, but I don’t want you to leave till you know it’s time for you to go.”

Hope was startled. What did that mean? That he wanted her there? She had no idea and wasn’t sure she wanted to know, so she decided to ignore the comment.

“Well, it isn’t time,” she replied. “You promised me help on the investment stuff and to tell me what in the world a pick is.”

“A pick?” Jeff’s forehead crinkled, confusion clouding his expression, then light seemed to dawn in his eyes. He laughed. “Hope, that’s a put.”

She grinned. “Well, whatever you financial moguls call it. See? Who else is going to teach a lunkhead like me about the stock market if you won’t? And you have to tell me what to do with that bill that came for a bunch of AFG stock you bought back in the beginning of February.”

“Nothing. I had money in my brokerage account already. It was probably just a notice of withdrawal from the account.”

“A brokerage account is different from a bank account? How much time do you have to teach me?” she asked, even more unsure of herself.

“My Viking taskmaster Curt the slave driver had to fix a piece of equipment, so I guess I’m free till he rounds me up.” Jeff grew serious again. “I’m sorry, Hope. I hate that I’ve come between you and your father.”

“
You
haven’t.
He
has.”

Jeff pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Sure,” he said, but his disgusted tone made it clear he didn’t agree.

“Let’s get at that investment lesson,” she said, swiftly changing the subject. And wasn’t it a shame, she thought as she followed Jeff to the study, that she was more comfortable discussing investments than she was her current relationship with her own father? She had to find a way to show Ross how wrong Jeff’s father had been about his wonderful son.

Jeff stared in dismay at the big ebony desk a few minutes later when he moved next to Hope after she settled in the leather desk chair. He’d had no idea he’d left so many things undone since the accident. Shame washed away any feelings her nearness churned up in him. Then, as Hope quickly ran through a summary of all the business she had handled for him, the magnitude of his negligence hit him.

What had he been thinking? Mrs. R and all the other people who worked at Lavender Hill deserved to be paid for their services. Plus there were the suppliers who had gone unpaid, as well. This was a terrible burden to foist on Hope. Her father had been right about him. He’d been incredibly selfish.

He glanced at her serious face as she finished telling him about the household account. Selfish though it might be, he couldn’t help being incredibly grateful that Hope had strong-armed her way into his world. She had dragged him, albeit kicking and screaming, from a pit of despair and kept his whole world from caving in around him. He looked away, tempted to take her in his arms and show her all he felt for her. But that would blow his brotherly cover and increase the daily torture of her nearness.

It was then that, in a pile of new mail, he spied the return address of the neurologist who’d handled his case. His thoughts did an abrupt one-eighty. He reached for the envelope at the same time Hope did.

“It’s probably another misdirected bill. The right hand sure doesn’t tell the left who to bill around that hospital,” she quipped, and tore into the envelope, then pulled out a sheet of paper. “Oh, it’s a letter from Dr. Chin.”

“Here, I’ll take care of it,” Jeff said quickly. But not quickly enough. He winced when he saw the storm gathering in Hope’s eyes. Uh-oh. Busted.

“You missed your checkup right before I came here to stay and you refused the call when they phoned to make a new appointment. Jeff, why?”

“It’s too much trouble to go there and sit for hours just to find out nothing’s changed.”

“What about since then? You’re stronger. Maybe the doctor will give us a better idea of what we can expect of your recovery.”

Jeff heard the unconscious way Hope made them a team—a couple. It buoyed his heart for all of two seconds before reality set in. They weren’t a team or a couple and wouldn’t be, either, unless he managed to stand on his own two feet again. He had to stop kidding himself about his chances, and so did she.

“I still don’t want to go. I’m an adult, Hope, and I can decide to see my doctor or not. I decided not to. Simple.”

Hope continued to glare. “I’ll agree with that. It is simple. And stupid. Why doesn’t Curt know about this? I would have thought he’d need to be in touch with your doctor.”

Annoyingly, he felt his face heat. “Curt knows. I told him I’d stop cooperating if he blew the whistle. I think he’s been talking to the doctor, though.”

Hope stared at him for a long moment before asking, “I still don’t understand why you refuse to go.”

Jeff fisted his hand. “Why? Because I don’t want to go,” he said, and hated the petulant sound of his voice. Well, too bad! He couldn’t go. He just wasn’t ready to hear that he’d never walk again. That any idea of a future with Hope was over. He knew it in his heart, but to hear it? No. Not yet. He wasn’t prepared to hear the words. He might never be ready. At least now he had hope, and after that talk with the kid at her church his outlook seemed a little brighter. He couldn’t give that up. Ridiculously optimistic or not, that was it.