Broken Bonds (5 page)

Finally, Lee answered questions about Kelsey and Ethan—doing well, just fine, yes, very happy here. Grace asked about Kate’s engagement to Grant and insisted on seeing her engagement ring, which seemed unusual to Char since she wore no jewelry herself and was dressed so plainly. She exclaimed over the ring but tapped the face of Kate’s watch as if it were time for them to go.

“Will you go out to a doctor to have the baby or does a midwife come in?” Kate asked. “I heard they do deliveries here, but we can arrange a doctor for you.”

“Yes, I’ll have a trained midwife, with lots of good support. I’ll be very well taken care of,” Grace assured them, but her voice was shaky.

Char wondered if Lee didn’t approve—of what?—because he kept glowering at them and had so little to say. She rose from the bench next to Grace and spoke to him. “Do you want a boy or a girl, Lee? With one of each already, do you have a preference?”

“A son. We look forward to a son,” he said.

This close to him, Char noted that the pupils of his eyes were large, as if they’d been dilated for an eye examination.
Could he be drugged?
He seemed almost robotic, zombielike as Kate had said earlier.

After only fifteen minutes together, it was time to say goodbye. Grace gripped Char’s hand and darted her eyes toward the wall with the morning star Bible verse again. Did she want them to understand that the name Bright Star was precious, special? Was she drugged, too? Surely not in her advanced state of pregnancy, but Char sensed she dare not ask. Maybe if she came alone later, brought a baby gift here, she could find out more.

They said their goodbyes, promising to be back soon with something for the children and the new baby—a month yet to go, Grace had told them. They all hugged again and when they did, Grace grabbed Char’s wrist and whispered what she thought was the word,
watch,
but she quickly stepped back and moved away without another glance.

Then it hit her. Grace had only pretended to admire Kate’s new engagement ring but she had tapped her watch. And she had whispered, “watch!” and looked at the wall with the framed quote. Watch for what? Was that a warning?

In the hall, Char noticed another framed quote about a bright and morning star, only in different script—big, bold letters, not fancy, cursive writing. It looked as if it hung opposite the one on the other side of the wall. The glass over the quote reflected in the hall light. On impulse, she stepped forward and lifted the frame from the wall. There was an eyehole behind it, so there must have been one on the other side!

“Hey, put that back,” their escort said.

“Oh, I just think it’s such beautiful words,” Char told him, pretending to stare down at the quote and turning her back on the small hole as if she hadn’t seen it. Blessedly, neither of her sisters said a word. “Do you know...” Char asked, giving the quote one more fake, lingering look. “Can I order one of these?” She handed it back to the man as Grace and Lee stood in the doorway staring. “I’ll drop by to find out later. And thanks for guiding us in to see our family today.”

Tess looked puzzled, and Kate looked livid as they walked out. They were back in the day care van before Tess demanded an explanation. “What was that all about?”

“Good work, Char,” Kate said. “But I’m not sure you covered up your discovery like that plaque covered the hole. That sounded pretty heavy-handed about wanting to buy one of that maniac’s self-aggrandizing quotes he’s ripped off from the Bible to justify his power.”

“What? Tell me!” Tess insisted.

“Grace is in some kind of trouble,” Char said. “Deeper than just not wanting to have her baby there. There was a peephole in the wall, and she was trying to tell us she—or we—were being watched.”

6

C
har had hoped to calm down after the visit to the Hear Ye cult by the time Matt picked her up for dinner at the cabin that evening. But just being with him was revving her up in a far different way. It had been a while since she’d got dressed up for a fancy date—and it seemed ages since she’d been with a man so attentive and attractive.

As her mother would have said, Matthew Rowan “cleaned up well.” Not that he hadn’t looked nice this morning at Tess’s, but—well, who knew a suit coat over a shirt and V-necked cable-knit sweater could look so good. Char wasn’t one to care about appearances, but to have been picked up in a luxury car, not a truck, which was all she’d been used to for months—years...

Get hold of yourself, Charlene Lockwood,
she lectured herself.
You don’t care about luxury items. This guy is not Prince Charming. You will not let this turn your head.

As they walked through the door into La Maison, the blonde hostess gave Matt a kiss on both cheeks, which jarred Char back to reality. “
Bonjour, mon ami.
Booth or table, Matt?” She had a French accent, no less, and Matt said something to her in French.

The place looked about half-full, probably mostly with Lake Azure residents. A low buzz of conversation mingled with recorded music. Char knew this was one of Tess’s favorite places. Since her honeymoon, Tess was into everything French. And this woman knew Matt fairly well, so he was no stranger here.

“A back booth would be great,” Matt told the hostess.

They followed her past the bar. Several people sat there, including Brad Mason, the younger brother of Kate’s fiancé, Grant. Brad was a slightly shorter version of Grant with dark blond hair, blue eyes and a muscular build. He was talking to another man but was obviously watching the front door over the other guy’s shoulder. Char had only met Brad a couple of times at Grant’s house, once at the announcement party for their engagement. All she really knew about him was that he used to work at the lumber mill with Grant but now worked for the fracking king, Royce Flemming. So that meant Matt must know him, too.

“Yo, Matt,” Brad said, standing to shake his hand. “Glad you’re back among the living and—” Brad did a double take as he took her in. “Charlene, future sis-in-law. I heard you were there to save the day—and save Matt.”

“He got out of the truck on his own, but I was there.”

“So Royce said.”

“You’re not meeting him here, are you?” Matt asked, taking her arm, rather protectively, she thought. The two men seemed merely cordial, not really friendly, when she assumed their ties to Flemming would make them on the same team at least.

“Met with him earlier today—at length,” Brad said. “He’s working late at the lodge tonight. Actually, I’m waiting for another local success story, the Fencers, who live down the road from where your family lived, Charlene.”

“Sure, I know the Fencer place,” she said. “The current owners are probably the third or fourth generation there. It used to be a pretty big farm, but now it’s just a few fields. When we were kids, the Fencers didn’t have girls for us to play with but we got along well with the boys. So, you’re saying they’re getting a contract for drilling on their land?”

“That would make sense since they’re the closest place to the old Hear Ye cult land that’s got so much action there,” Matt said.

“Ah, yeah, right,” Brad said and took a quick swig of amber liquor from his glass. Not beer, the drink of choice around here, Char thought, but then times were changing. She could see the glass bottoms of numerous wine bottles nestled in a crosshatch pattern of shelves behind the polished wooden bar.

Brad went on, seeming nervous. “Yeah, that old Bright Star cult land above Cold Creek is a really busy place. Getting oil and natural gas out of there galore. Quite a production.”

They chatted about Kate and Grant’s coming wedding—Brad would be best man and Char and Tess would stand up with Kate. “And the view from the reception in their living room will be a burial mound,” Brad said with a shake of his head. “I’m sure the late-night comedians could make something out of that, but I’ll skip the one-liners.”

He shrugged with a grin that was more of a grimace. They said goodbye, and Char and Matt moved on to their booth in the back corner where the hostess had left their menus. The white linen tablecloth with a single red rosebud in a vase gleamed in the light of a big candle in a glass globe. More forks and goblets were set at each place than Char had seen in a long time.

“Lucky Fencer family, I guess,” Matt said, sliding in across from her. “Those leases or sales contracts mean a lot of money.”

“I’m pretty sure Mrs. Fencer is the sister of Sam McKitrick, Jemmie’s dad. I hope we won’t have another Hatfield and McCoy problem when the Fencers get filthy rich and the McKitricks are hurting up in the hills.”

“That’s one sad thing about the fracking. It’s like some winning the lottery and others close to them just watching the riches pour in. But listen,” he said, reaching over to take her hand, “let’s just get to know each other better this evening. No more talk about fracking, poor kids, how we met. What’s important is that we did, and we’re going to enjoy our time together.”

“Deal,” she said, lifting and shaking his big warm hand. He held on to hers. “And one more thing—no more trying to convince me not to live in the cabin. I’ll be fine there.”

“At least you’re not far away, and I know where to find you.”

He smiled. Their gazes held. Her stomach cartwheeled. They still held hands. Suddenly, she didn’t care if they were in the best restaurant in the universe or at the Dairy Queen. She was deeply happy to be here with Matt Rowan.

* * *

They were sipping wine and eating the delicious, warm French bread when Char saw the Fencer family trail into the restaurant as if they had just entered Disneyland, craning their necks to look around, eyes wide. She knew it was them because, though she hadn’t seen him for years, she recognized Joe Fencer. Brad bounced up to greet them. She couldn’t believe Joe had four kids already.

For sure she remembered Tess saying that Sara Ann, the mother, was one of the McKitricks. Brad directed them to a distant table, one in Char’s line of sight. He was ready to wine and dine them to close the fracking contract on the land of their family heritage.

She didn’t say a thing to Matt about all that, since he’d set out rules for the evening, but her mind went again to little Penny Hanson up on the mountain, holding her precious colored crayons. One of the Fencer daughters, maybe nine years old, was obviously in awe of this place. She sat bolt upright in her chair, stroking the white linen tablecloth and nearly jumping out of her skin when the server handed her the large leather-bound menu. Brad was playing host, drinking water now. At least that family lived in town so the kids could all get to the consolidated schools.

“So, you have no one special in your life, besides your family?” Matt asked, salting his salad, as if that were a nonchalant question. “You asked if I have kids. Why are you especially dedicated to children who are hurting, little ones living on the edge?”

“Ha. I knew you’d be the first one to bring up the kids we’re not supposed to be talking about. You have a soft heart for them, too. I can tell by your helping out the McKitrick family. It’s not only because Woody was your employee and friend, is it?”

“Touché. I owed him for teaching me a lot about the area, about the people outside the realm of Lake Azure. In a way, maybe you can take up where he left off.”

“The mountain folk themselves are the teachers. But to answer your question, no—no special man in my life. I had a college romance that I thought would lead to a future, but he had stars in his eyes for a big corporate career in the East—he’s in New York City—and that just wasn’t me. Okay, I know that look. Yes, you’re thinking, there are lots of poor, needy kids in New York, but I prefer, as you put it, living on the edge. Well, the edge of civilization,
not
the kind of edge you almost went over.”

“Now we’ve both broken the taboo conversation rules.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her as if in a challenge. “But, if you’re reading my mind now, I’m in trouble.” His smile widened to a boyish grin as he finally looked away and speared a slice of tomato.

Char picked up her wineglass and took a slow sip to calm herself. She didn’t even know this man two days ago, and now... But this dinner would surely be it. Just like her college love, she and Matt were so different. Different economic levels, different goals, their futures poles apart.

They both ate chicken
cordon bleu
and
pommes frites.
Ah—so these were what were called French fries in America.

Meanwhile, Matt explained that Royce had been almost like a father to him since his dad had died young. The Lake Azure community kept him busy full-time. He wasn’t in on the Environmental Expansion Company.

“You might know,” she said, deciding to ignore another one of Matt’s conversation caveats for the evening, “they put the words
environmental
and
expansion
in the company name. Don’t they realize that—despite the good things the money can do for this area—fracking can also hurt the environment? What about all these new roads and the noise? And I’ve read it can pollute groundwater. Oops—sorry. Too heavy a topic.”

“No, that’s all right. There are pros and cons, but if the U.S. can become less dependent on foreign oil, it’s a good thing, right? And I do like a woman with her own opinions, honestly. If you were right down the line with things I like or say, I’d think you were just out to please me and had no backbone.”

“Good!” she said as their server returned, and they both ordered chocolate crepes for dessert.

* * *

It was a frosty night with silver pinpoints of stars stuck on a black velvet dome of sky when Matt drove Char out of town. A bright curve of moon smiled down at them. He took her on a short tour of Lake Azure, pointing out his house and telling her he’d have her to dinner at the lodge soon. All the houses backed up to wooded hills and had treed lots as if the forest embraced them.

“By the way,” he told her, “almost all the wood for these buildings came from Grant Mason’s lumberyard, so you can tell your sister Kate this place helped pay for her wedding.”

The tennis courts, volleyball area, shuffleboard and archery range weren’t lighted, but old-fashioned streetlights threw pools of gold along the curved streets. It seemed to her a very romantic place—in the old sense of that word—with several skaters on the lake and people bundled up, roasting marshmallows or hot dogs over a fire on the beach.

“If we just had snow it would look like a Currier and Ives card,” she told him.

“We do have sleigh rides next month. I’ll take you on one.”

So, she thought, with another frisson of excitement, he intended that they would go on, be friends at least. The way he looked at her and some of the things he said made her believe—and hope—he meant this was the beginning of more. No, that would never work. Not only were they from different worlds, but almost different universes. Without realizing it, she heaved a deep sigh.

“What?” he asked as he drove out toward the highway past the stone sign announcing Lake Azure Community.

“It just seems a sort of haven, that’s all. I hope those who live there appreciate it, especially when they drive in past the derelict farmhouses and old town.”

“Some know how blessed they are, some don’t and won’t.”

“How about Royce Flemming?”

“He wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Char. He worked his way up, just like my father.”

“At least your father didn’t mean to leave you.”

“Like your dad did? I got the idea you and your sisters had made up with him.”

“We have, but it doesn’t quite heal the initial pain of desertion. I was close to my mom, too, and cancer took her.”

“We have a lot more to get to know about each other, to share.”

As he turned up the curved road toward her cabin, the headlights of the big car slashed through bushes and tree limbs. “By the way,” he said, “since I take it you liked the look and feel of Lake Azure, there’s a place that needs a house sitter this winter—folks who head to Florida, just in case you change your mind about—”

“You said you wouldn’t try to talk me out of staying in the cabin up here. I decided to do it and I will. A woman with her own opinions, right?”

“Right,” he said, but he hit the steering wheel with his fist, lightly, just once.

He pulled into the cabin’s narrow drive, and they sat there a moment. He switched off his headlights, then turned them on again. She had the feeling he’d say more, maybe try to talk her out of staying here again. But he got out, leaving his headlights on so they could see. She’d left a light on inside the kitchen, but it did little to pierce the hovering blackness here. This place had a different feel from the vast openness of Navajo land at night. Closer, tighter with the hills, even though her location overlooked the open valley far below.

Just to make the point again that she was her own woman, she was tempted to open her car door before he came around, but she let him do it. He took her hand as they headed for the cabin, which now looked so small.

They stood in the beams from the headlights, while she fumbled with the unfamiliar key and new lock. Reluctant to go in, to end this night, she opened the wooden door a crack. It had a glass window that came partway down, lending them wan light from inside, though it was no match for the headlights.

“What’s that old but true line?” she asked as he stood close, blocking the wind for her. “I’ve had a wonderful time—and I mean it.”

“Me, too,” he said, and lifted a warm hand to tip her chin up. “I want you to understand that tonight was not really payback for what you did. I wanted to do it—for myself, too, as if nothing bad had ever thrown us together in the first place.”

Char started to nod as he dipped his head to kiss her. Soft at first, almost friendly, then serious for sure. She felt like a naive teen on her first date, unsteady, curious, needy.