Larkspur Road Page 20

  “You underestimate that cat. And me.” Winny flicked her a flinty glance as the convertible spat gravel going up the drive. “We’ve gotten along just fine on our own, both of us, for a good long time. We’re survivors. We don’t need folks fussing over us.”

  “Everybody needs someone to care about them. Most people just say thank you when someone like that comes along.” She smiled as her aunt directed a gaze at her sharp enough to pierce armor. “It doesn’t make you a wimp to care about another person or to let them care about you. It just makes you human.”

  “If I want a sermon, I’ll go to church.” Winny folded her hands over the knitted handbag in her lap. “You were late coming today.”

  “I’m sorry. But with this sweet little car, we’ll make up the time.” She pressed down hard on the accelerator and the convertible shot forward down Sweetwater Road. “I was distracted working on my quilt for the exhibition. I lost track of time.”

  “So you like to quilt, too, do you? No doubt you’re as good at it as Alicia was. You’re just the type.”

  “Type?” Mia’s slender brows rose. “What type is good at quilting? I don’t understand.”

  “The type who things come easy to. She was like that—Alicia. The perfect child.” Winny snorted. “The one who always did her chores, followed the rules, minded her manners.”

  “Is that how you remember her?” Mia asked quietly.

  Winny didn’t reply for a moment. “Alicia drew people to her,” she muttered at last. “It was like she had some kind of invisible charm in her pocket that magically made them love her. My father used to ask me why I couldn’t be like her. Every day he asked me.” Her mouth twisted. “But I wasn’t like her. I wasn’t like her at all.”

  “What were you like?” Mia asked. She remembered what Martha had said, comparing Winny to one of those wild horses still running free in Coldwater Canyon.

  “I didn’t take to being told what to do, for one thing. I liked to climb trees no one else would dare climb—not even any of the boys. I played in the mud, and then I tramped it all in the house because I forgot to wipe my feet before going inside.” She chuckled, but it was a dry, mirthless sound. “I made more work for my mother in one day than my sister did in a year, and my father would swat my bottom until I cried and then send me to my room. Alicia never got swatted or sent to our room, not that I can recall.”

  “So you and Gram…you were never close?”

  Winny hesitated. “When we were younger. We were close then.” Her voice changed. Softened. Mia had never heard that tone from her before. “She was always nice to me when we were younger. Felt sorry for me, I guess, because I was always in trouble. When I cried in bed because my bottom was sore from beating, she used to show me her drawings, try to make me forget about the pain. Butterflies. She always drew butterflies. All different colors, sizes. Real pretty, they were. Alicia just loved butterflies….” Winny moistened her lips, remembering. “And when I got sent to our room without any supper, she’d sneak me food from the kitchen. Right after supper she’d duck in with it, and again before she came to bed. As much as she could carry. Those were the only times she ever broke any rules. She never got caught.”

  “I don’t understand.” Mia couldn’t contain the words. “If you and Gram were close…if she was good to you…what happened? Why did you burn her wedding quilt and run away? If you left because of your father, I can understand that,” she added quickly. “But why didn’t you and Gram ever speak to each other after you came back to Lonesome Way?”

  They were only a few miles from town and the hospital now, she realized as she made the turn onto Squirrel Road. They’d made up the time and she deliberately slowed her speed so they’d have more of a chance to talk. It was the first time Winny had ever opened up about her childhood with Gram, and Mia knew she might never have another opportunity to find out what had gone wrong between them.

  As it was, Winny went quiet for so long Mia feared she wasn’t planning to answer, but at last, as the road dipped just past a fallen tree, and a hawk swooped overhead, casting a shadow in the sky, Winny let out a sigh.

  “I guess you could say as we grew up, we grew apart. By the time we reached our teens, my sister learned to be ashamed of me.” She looked straight ahead, into the distance. When she spoke again, the words came steadily, but there was pain beneath them.

  “The other girls whispered about me, you see. They thought I was loose because most of my friends were boys. But I just felt more comfortable with the boys. I had fun with them and I liked the attention I got from them. Abner was one of ’em. And his brother Bill. That was when we became friends—good friends. But the older boys…” Winny sighed. “Well, let’s just say the older I got, the more attention they paid me. Seemed like they all thought I was pretty, so they used to tease me and flirt with me—and I wasn’t one of those girls who shied away from flirting back.” Her mouth curved in a faint, reminiscent smile. “And yes, they kissed me on the first date. If I liked ’em, I kissed ’em back. But that’s all I let ’em do. Not that it mattered,” she added, her mouth tightening. “Because I still got a reputation.”

  Glancing over, Mia saw Winny’s eyes brimming with memories. Sour memories, from the look of it.

  “Everyone thought I was a certain type of girl—the type who slept with anything in pants. Girls started calling me a slut behind my back. One or two said it to my face. Oh, not Martha or Ava Todd or any of the others Alicia was good friends with. They kept silent, probably out of respect for her. But some—most of ’em, if you want to know—they whispered behind their hands whenever I walked by. But it wasn’t true. None of it. I never did all those things they said. I never did most of them, except kiss this boy or that one now and then, if I liked him.”

  Winny peered over at Mia, and in her dark gaze Mia saw a long-ago hurt, a bitterness hard and old, tamped down deep, like tobacco in a pipe.

  “The truth was, there was only one boy I cared about. A boy from Billings. Real handsome, he was. We met at a barn dance, and he was the only one I let touch me. Matter of fact,” she said softly, “I let him do whatever he wanted—well, almost anything he wanted,” she added with a wry slant of her mouth that was nothing like a smile. “Because I loved him. And I thought he loved me. He told me he did often enough,” she rasped in a low tone.

  “What happened to him, Aunt Winny? Who was he?” Mia saw the outer fringe of town just ahead. She tried to imagine her crusty aunt as a pretty, vibrant young woman. Brittany’s age. Mia’s age when she’d fallen for Travis. “Did you…” She paused, uncertain how to phrase her question.

  “Sleep with him? Have sex with him? Is that what you want to know?” Her aunt was gripping her cane tightly, staring straight ahead, her profile sharp, almost regal. “No, I didn’t do that, but fool that I was, I would’ve if I’d had the chance. I never did.”

  Mia saw her teeth clench, a timeworn pain tightening her elegant features.

  “Why didn’t you?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  Winny’s mouth twisted like a gnarled tree root. “Because one day I came home from school and found the boy I loved standing in my very own house. Shaking my father’s hand. Paying my mother some flowery compliment. You want to know why? Because he’d just become engaged to marry my sister.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The instant Travis glanced at his cell phone and saw it was Val calling he had a bad feeling.

  Up until that moment, his day had been rolling along great. His office phones were ringing constantly. Potential clients were emailing all day long, his security teams were shaping up, and inquiries for his company’s services were pouring in from D.C. to Sacramento, from Frankfurt to Damascus.

  He’d hired five top-notch former Navy SEALs in the past week and he had a video interview with a major potential client in Madrid scheduled at five.

  Grady was out in the reception area with his new office manager, and while she fielded phone calls and set up app
ointments, his son was curled up in a gray-and-black-checked wingback chair, his mouth pursed in concentration as he finished up a take-home quiz Mia had assigned him for homework—comparing how earthquakes, volcanoes, and plate movements affected the earth’s surface features. In an hour the two of them were going to grab some burgers from the drive-through and then later on shoot over to Mia’s for Grady’s tutoring session.

  I’ll see her in a little more than two hours, Travis had thought, grinning because he was as eager as a teenager. Not only would he see Mia when he dropped Grady off, but she and Britt were joining him and Grady for a barbecue tonight at the cabin.

  Every day he saw Mia was a good day. He looked forward to her sexy little smile, to getting close enough to smell the grapefruit and sunshine fragrance of her shampoo. Hearing her laugh was a bonus. And making love to her was the closest thing to heaven Travis had ever known.

  The sight of her triggered a million lustful thoughts and kept him busy trying to figure out ways for them to be alone so they could act on them.

  The only fly in the ointment was that Wade Collins hadn’t been caught yet. Travis knew that just because the kid hadn’t been spotted didn’t mean he wasn’t around. Snakes liked hiding under rocks. And just because you couldn’t see them, that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Hidden. Coiled. Ready to strike.

  He wasn’t about to let down his guard until Britt’s ex-boyfriend was locked up where he belonged.

  He’d been trying to shove his concerns about Collins out of his mind, to focus on Tanner Security and the evening ahead.

  And then Val called and it all went to hell.

  “You’re what?”

  He listened to her in disbelief, his stomach clenching.

  She and Drew. Moving to London in the fall.

  Travis heard her out, fighting to control his growing anger. Apparently this had been in the works for a while now. And suddenly it dawned on him. This was probably the real reason for all that talk about boarding school. Drew had been angling toward this all along. Baylor wanted to personally be in London during the launch phase of the UK branch of his hotel line. He’d known for a while now that he and Val would need to relocate overseas for a minimum of six months. Possibly a year. Val didn’t admit that to Travis, though.

  His jaw tightened as he listened to her breathless, rapid-fire words. The woman didn’t give him a second to jump in, just kept on talking. No doubt not wanting to hear him say what she had to know deep down. How disgusting it was to toss a struggling kid off on a bunch of strangers at a boarding school while chasing your own—or your husband’s—career aspirations around the globe.

  They were renting out their L.A. house, she told him. And planned to settle Grady in at Broadcrest Academy before they left for London on the twenty-third of August.

  “Broadcrest Academy is the last thing our son needs right now,” he told Val bluntly when she finally paused for breath.

  “I disagree.” Her tone was defensive. A little shrill. “Drew thinks it’s exactly what he needs. Structure and discipline. A chance to grow up—and shape up. Drew says if his grades improve after a year, we can rethink everything. Maybe, if we’re still based in London then, Grady could transfer to a school there….”

  Her voice trailed off, and he heard the doubtfulness she couldn’t quite hide.

  “I know you think this is a mistake, Travis, but Grady’s interview with the headmaster is scheduled for next Thursday. It’s only a formality, since Drew has already pulled enough strings to get him in—but if you don’t want to take him then I’ll just have to fly into Billings on Wednesday and pick him up myself.” She hurried on as if expecting him to interrupt. “It’s all settled, Travis. Believe me, Drew and I have gone over and over this. There’s no other choice.”

  She was trying her best to sound firm and unshakable, but Travis knew Val, knew that note of hesitation in her voice. Deep down, she knew as well as he did how wrong this was.

  “There’s always another choice, Val.” He spoke evenly, but there was steel in the words. “Drew Baylor doesn’t get to call the shots when it comes to our son. So we’re going to talk about this. Hear me out.”

  Unfortunately, at that moment, the door opened and Grady poked his head in.

  “I need some help with my homework, Dad. Can I ask you something?” he whispered.

  Travis’s first instinct was to say Not right now, and finish his conversation. Get this settled. His gut was trussed up in knots, and he needed to get everything straightened out, pull out the big guns and make sure Broadcrest Academy and its stuffy halls and messed-up rich kids and manicured lawns was taken off the table. But Grady had already waited too long for him to reenter his life, to be a real, full-time, hands-on father. His son was watching him with urgent need in his eyes.

  Dealing with Val would have to wait a little longer.

  “I’m going to have to call you back,” he said into the phone even as he forced a smile for the boy’s sake and waved him in.

  “When?” Val’s voice rose to a near-screech as it always did when she was stressed. “I have a thousand things to do here, Travis. And I’m supposed to meet Drew and the rental property agent in fifteen minutes—”

  “Soon,” he interrupted her tersely. “As soon as I can. I’ll get back to you in an hour.”

  Ending the call, he studied his son. “What’s up, buddy?”

  “I don’t understand what causes magma to rise in a subjection zone. And I have to explain it. They talk about it in my science book, and Mia told me about it the other day, but it’s kinda confusing. Can you help me?”

  “Subjection zones, huh? They’re a little out of my area of expertise.” His brow wrinkled as he pulled a spare chair up to his desk for the boy and moved his coffee mug out of the way. “Let’s take a look at that book and I’ll give it my best shot.”

  As Grady grinned, regarding him with absolute trust and the hopefulness only a child can feel toward his parent’s steadfast ability to make everything better, Travis felt his determination multiply fiftyfold.

  No way was he letting his son get shunted off to boarding school like extra baggage shoved into a storage facility.

  Not while he still had blood left in his body.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “What happened when you walked into your house, Aunt Winny? What did you say to him?”

  They were only a half mile from town now. But Winny Pruitt wasn’t responding to Mia’s question.

  Mia braked at a red light at the intersection of Grace and Pine. Glancing at her aunt, she saw the frown lines etched deeply around her mouth. For several long seconds Winny clung to that silence, and Mia had almost given up on learning anything more when her aunt suddenly began to speak as if the words had been corked up inside her too long, and there were too many of them to contain any longer.

  “Henry Clayton behaved as if he’d never seen me before, that’s what happened. Smooth as a worm in mud he was. He shook my hand and told me he was honored to meet me and happy I was going to be his sister.”

  Henry Clayton? Grandfather?

  Mia’s heart lurched. She couldn’t seem to form any words, but fortunately, she didn’t need to because Winny suddenly appeared to want to spill all those bottled-up memories out into the open.

  “Smooth he was. Lied as if he did it every day of his life, which he no doubt did. It didn’t sink in on me until later, how ambitious Henry was in those younger days. He saw himself as a man on the rise. A man with a future. My parents owned a prosperous farm, even had two hired men to help with the chores, and he no doubt saw the benefits of marrying the cherished eldest daughter. Alicia’s reputation was spotless, while mine…” She gave a short, bitter bark of laughter. “A week or two in town and he knew as well as anyone what my reputation was. He knew I might be good enough to fool around with in the dark shed near the railroad tracks, but not good enough to be seen on his arm in public. Or to walk down the aisle of a church and say ‘I do.’”<
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  “But he left Gram—after only a few years—when my mother was still a little girl!” Mia burst out. “He abandoned them both for some barmaid and was never heard from again. What did he get from the marriage?”

  “Well, I was long gone by then, but Abner wrote me later what he heard. Henry stole nine hundred and seventy-five dollars from my father’s safe before he ran away. A fortune in those days. So I guess his true nature won out in the end. Henry wasn’t cut out for staying in one place any more than he was cut out for marriage. He was an opportunist who grabbed his chances as they came and lit out whenever the urge took him. I’d bet my horse, if I had one, that he dumped the barmaid for a banker’s daughter as soon as the opportunity came along.”

  The streetlight changed to green and Mia stepped on the gas and accelerated, cruising past the park and the Toss and Tumble Laundromat, her aunt’s words whirling through her head. As she neared the hospital entrance, it suddenly occurred to her that her grandfather hadn’t been all that different from Peter. Peter Clancy had left her in similar fashion, taking every dime of the savings from their joint account.

  “Chalk it up to the wedding quilt.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until the words tumbled from her mouth.

  Beside her she heard Winny’s indrawn breath.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Winny,” she said quickly. “It’s just that Gram always used to say none of the women in our family had any kind of marriage luck except the bad kind after the wedding quilt burned up. It’s seemed to hold true.”

  “I never should have burned that damned quilt,” Winny muttered. It sounded like she was talking to herself. Suddenly she glanced over at Mia. “I did it out of spite the night I left. Hurt feelings and rage got the better of me. I was sorry for it later, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back. Not for a long time. And by then…it didn’t matter anymore.”

  “You said you left home because your family threw you out.” Mia hesitated. “Was that because you burned the quilt?”