Hotel Ladd (27 page)

Annie returned a muffled, “I can’t sell
it to him.”

“
Sure you can. Or maybe you
might want to keep it.” His hand paused. “If Casey wants to go to
college and you don’t like the logging idea, we can come up with
something else.” Like marriage, he wanted to say. Cal wanted to
marry Annie, and as her husband he could easily pay for Casey’s
college, could pay to build a house on the land, too. Envisioning
Casey studying from a desk in her bedroom in their new log cabin
home, Cal’s hope swelled. Annie was proud and independent, but she
couldn’t tell him no if they were married. He pulled her to him,
relishing the scent of her, the feel of her soft body next to his.
He hummed against her silky hair. “We can work it out, Annie, I
know we can.”

Abruptly, she lifted to face him. A
horrible feeling overcame him as she said, “No we can’t. I’ve
already signed the contract to sell to Jillian.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

As Annie idled at the salon, a shiver
raced through her. Most of the women had gone home for the day,
only the receptionist and one stylist remained, but she was packing
up her things. “Are you sure you’re okay to lock up?” Bobbi Jo
asked again, digging through her purse for her car keys. “I don’t
mind staying.”

Annie smiled. She appreciated the
girl’s enthusiastic attitude toward her growing responsibility. It
was a sign Bobbi Jo took her job seriously and would make a great
assistant manager one day. “I’m fine,” Annie told her. “You go
on.”

Bobbi Jo waited for her hairstylist
friend to join her up front. The two gave one last questioning
look. “If you’re sure?”

“
I’m sure.” And ready to get
this over with. Jillian Devane was meeting her here under the guise
of scheduling a time to go over the survey for the property, the
preliminary boundary lines. It was the one thing Ms. Devane
insisted upon before closing. She wanted a completed survey of her
own. Probably to locate the closest property line to the new
Serenity Springs hotel, enabling her next fire to hit as close to
home as possible.
Home
. It was Delaney’s home. Felicity’s home, land Annie and Lacy
had enjoyed as kids. Imagining it black and crispy was hard to
digest. It left a bitter taste, a traitorous feeling in her gut.
She and Delaney had their differences but they were part of the
same community, shared a history, a hometown. That meant something.
Annie expelled a sigh. It was coming to mean more than she believed
possible.

Escorting the girls to the
door, Annie pretended to lock up behind them. She waved through the
glass door, forcing a smile to her lips.
Bye-bye
, she mouthed. With a swift
glance at the wall clock, she prepared herself for Jillian Devane.
She would be here in ten minutes. Glancing around the salon, a slew
of nerves tumbled through her. She had to convince her to cancel.
Annie had to make her see it wasn’t worth the effort and that she
would do everything she could to stand in her way. Cal said the law
was on Jillian’s side, that Annie had no right to cancel. But if
she could appeal to the woman in her, make her think this was about
her daughter, maybe she would sympathize. Maybe she would see it
wasn’t the right thing to do.

Jillian didn’t need to know that Annie
knew about the fire. She was a mother interested in her child, not
a woman trying to save her family’s land. Casey’s land. Casey’s
family. Thoughts of wildfire blazed through her mind. Viscous
images of terrified animals and charred tree trunks, acres upon
acres scorched because she had been short-sighted when it came to
building Casey’s future. Casey didn’t need money or land—she needed
love and compassion. She needed her family. Sadly, it was the only
part of the picture Annie had missed. Family meant more than blood
kinship. It meant solidarity.

The light rap at the door stopped
Annie’s heart. She turned to see Jillian Devane stroll inside.
Circling the receptionist desk, she stood feet from Annie.
“Couldn’t this have been handled with a phone call?”

“
Like I said, I needed to
discuss the survey with you.”

Cold eyes appraised her with no small
amount of skepticism. “I’m a very busy woman. I have people who
take care of these things. Can’t your lawyer handle this for
you?”

Dressed warmly in her fur coat, an
earthy tan turtleneck cradled up around her neck, Jillian displayed
a disposition that was anything but warm and cordial. She was
stern, businesslike. She was treating this call as a nuisance
detail she’d rather not be handling. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather
discuss it with you personally.” A swarm of nerves undermined her
confidence but she pushed past them. “I want to cancel our
deal.”

A flicker of anger danced behind
Jillian’s tiger eyes. “Do you understand that you
cannot?”

“
I’m appealing to your sense
of compassion.” Jillian almost laughed, jarring Annie to realize
the absurdity of her request. A woman willing to burn down a hotel
didn’t tote a bag of compassion. She nursed a heart of stone. What
was she thinking? A budding desperation drove her forward. “My
daughter doesn’t want to sell. She’s decided she wants to stay here
and go to college. And since it’s her property, I thought it only
fair to grant her wishes.”

Jillian’s frosty glare matched the cool
drips of blue lighting overhead. “She should have thought of that
beforehand.”

“
I’m asking you to cancel.
There are other properties. You can still compete with Harris
Hotels if you buy a different one. I’ll even help you find it,” she
said, the lie automatic.

“
I do not want other
properties. I want the one I have.”

“
Well, I’m not selling it
anymore.”

“
Oh, but you
are.”

“
I can back out.”

“
If you back out, I will sue
you for default.”

“
Go ahead. I don’t have
anything to sue for.”

“
You have the
property.”

“
It’s not mine—it’s Casey’s!
She has a right to say no. She can object to the sale—Mr. Dakota
said so!”

It was the first crack she had detected
in the woman’s iron façade. Unwittingly, Annie must have hit upon
something. “You are legally entitled to sign for her until she is
of age thirty. The contract is solid,” Jillian insisted, her eyes
flat as a shark’s and just as dispassionate.

Annie wracked her brain for a way out,
an escape clause—something that could prevent the sale from going
through. If it did, the destruction of Ladd Springs would rest on
her shoulders. It would be her fault. “I’ll have her contest it.”
Yes, that’s what Jeremiah had planned to do to Felicity’s title. He
was going to contest it, fight it, tell a judge it wasn’t
legitimate. She could do the same thing, right? “We’ll contest this
sale and fight you in court.”

Jillian slipped into an
indulgent smile, a gesture that held complete contempt. “Your talk
of legal matters sounds very compelling, Ms. Owens, and you’re
right. You may choose to take this to court.” Her gaze went dark,
but her pupils held a white glow. “But I’d advise you against it.”
Jillian neared and Annie felt her lungs collapse. “If you fight me
on this and I warn you, I will exact my revenge on
you
.” Annie flinched. “I
am not a woman to toy with, do you understand?” Annie nodded,
despite herself. Flames licked at her imagination as the threat
seared onto her psyche in very real terms. “I will close on this
property in one month’s time. I expect the survey to be completed
upon my return from Brazil.”

She was leaving? An abrupt relief swept
through Annie, filtering through her limbs.

“
Do we understand each
other?”

“
Yes.” She nodded like an
obedient child. “Yes.”

“
Good.”

Cal parked outside the old farmhouse
that had been Ernie Ladd’s home for as long as he could remember.
The ridgeline of mountains called to the boy in him, the scent of
pine pulling memories and joys of days gone by. Overhead, the
setting sun glazed puffy white clouds, the blue sky melting to
purple-gold as the temperature dropped quickly. It was a gorgeous
evening taking shape, another crisp autumn night. If only he could
take Annie into his arms and snuggle up by a fireplace. He was
aching to hold her, make love to her. He was tired of proper
distance and decorum. He wanted her close to him, by his side, in
his heart. Cal wanted Annie in his life for good. But first, they
had to solve the problem of Jillian Devane.

Walking toward the cabin, he observed a
wooden structure rundown by time. More than weathered, it was worn
from neglect and a cryin’ shame, if you asked him. This property
was one of Cal’s favorite places, always had been. Inhaling the
sight of thick forest around him, a river curving around and under
the entry bridge, the expanse of meadow seeping into a distant line
of trees, Cal thought Ladd Springs was a beautiful tract of land.
It was Tennessee living in its purest form. While his family-owned
ranch land was groomed to perfection and lined with miles of
fencing, the main house bordered by expensive landscaping and
flowers, the Ladd property remained fairly close to its original
condition. Other than all the survey flags placed about the
perimeter, the flattened earth to his right, the heavy equipment
parked in neat rows off to the side, waiting for the crew to
return. Cal smiled inwardly. Annie was right. Nick and Malcolm had
been busy!

Turning, he sought a trail that he knew
led to the stables. Nothing more than a tunnel of green, the path
wound alongside a creek the entire way back. If followed past the
stables, folks would stumble upon the earliest Ladd homestead, the
house Grandpa Ladd inherited from his daddy and grandfather before
him. Cal remembered it well. Bigger than Ernie’s shack of a home,
the Ladd estate had been two-storied and built on the edge of a
forest overlooking a field of rolling green. It was a wide field
where horses once grazed to their heart’s content, along with a
mess of goats. Originally constructed near 1800, the home had
severely aged from its previous grandeur by the time Cal and his
brothers stormed the scene.

Cal remembered the place well because
he and his brother Jack used to set designs on catching one of old
man Ladd’s horses. They had their own horses, but their father only
allowed them to ride under his supervision—a restriction the Foster
boys didn’t take kindly to, he and Jack in particular. Riding was
in their genes, in their blood. They didn’t want to wait until
Daddy gave the okay, so the two of them would hide on the edge of
Ladd forest, inserting themselves between the shadows of trunks and
leaves as they crafted a plan. They’d fix their eyes on a target,
discuss the best way to wrangle an animal under their control, and
then one of them would bolt out of hiding and work to get a running
jump. Invariably the horse would wise up and take off. Warmed by
the memory, Cal chuckled. One time, Jack nearly got kicked. They
didn’t know it at the time, but the Palomino was in foal and a bit
particular about who she’d let ride her. Jack didn’t mind a lick.
He brushed off the dirt and went back into hiding, setting his eyes
on the next prize. Cal heaved a sigh. Those were good days, he
thought, bothered by the difference between then and now with
regard to his brother, Jack.

“
Hey, Calvin!”

Cal turned to see Albert Ladd waving to
him from the porch. Decked out in blue denim coveralls and white
T-shirt, the older man was round as a melon. Albert’s dark hair was
longer now and appeared to have thinned, but that was to be
expected. Cal hadn’t seen him for what, going on twenty
years?

“
Hey, Albert!” Cal waved and
walked over in short order. Taking the steps two at a time, he
shook hands with the senior Ladd. “I didn’t know you were
home.”

“
I’d been
nappin’.”

Cal smiled. “Nothing wrong with a
little slumber. How the heck have you been?”

“
Well, I guess all right.”
He lowered his gaze and said, “Since Ernie died and
all.”

“
I know. I was sorry to hear
about that Albert. Ernie was a good man.” There’d been no public
funeral. Delaney kept it small and personal. Actually, from what
Annie said, Ernie was buried somewhere behind this cabin. It had
been a last request of Ernie’s. Delaney’s mother was buried there,
and Ernie said he wanted to be with her, in heaven and on
earth.

“
Took good care of
me.”

“
I’ll bet he did,” Cal said
and wondered who was taking care of him now. Delaney lived in her
mother’s hideaway cabin up the hill. Did she look after him?
Settling his gaze on Albert’s hang-dog look, the tattered wool coat
falling from his shoulders, Cal imagined she did. Who
else?

“
What brings you out?”
Albert asked genially.

“
I’m here to see Delaney.
Annie Owens told me she lived here. Up in her momma’s old cabin.”
He gestured toward the tiny log home barely visible from the
porch.

Albert nodded. “She’s a good
girl.”

“
Always was a fine young
lady, from what I remember.”

“
She has a daughter, you
know.”