Katia's Promise (17 page)

Mrs. Beabots smiled. “I know Gina had a lovely dinner for you all.”

“She did, but it seemed strange to be there for Thanksgiving and not here with you.”

“Well, having you here at all is a treat,” Mrs. Beabots said. “Thanksgiving dessert will be our new tradition.”

“I like that already,” Maddie replied, giving Mrs. Beabots another hug. “Don’t you just love the holidays?”

“I do. And I have to admit that Thanksgiving is my favorite.”

The doorbell rang again. “That’ll be Liz and Gabe,” Maddie said excitedly.

Liz, Gabe and Sam arrived with two bottles of ice wine. In the dining room, Sarah had set out the pies, plates, forks and whipped cream. Hot coffee filled a silver urn on the hunt board and there was cold milk for the children. Everyone chose their favorite pie and made themselves comfortable in the front parlor.

Gabe turned to Mrs. Beabots. “Could I ask you for some dessert wineglasses?”

“I have just the thing,” Mrs. Beabots replied. “They were my mother’s. Come with me.”

Gabe followed her to the kitchen and returned with a tray filled with tiny etched-crystal sherry glasses.

Katia, who sat next to Liz on the Victorian settee, noticed that Gabe didn’t offer any wine to Liz. But Gabe was so busy talking to everyone and making certain they all had a glass that Katia let the slight pass.

“Does everyone have a glass?” Gabe asked, setting down the tray and raising his glass.

“Yes,” the guests shouted.

“Good.” He looked at Liz and smiled broadly. “Then, Liz and I want you, our best friends in Indian Lake, to know that next summer we, er, uh—there will be an addition to our group.” He laughed as he stumbled through his announcement. “Sorry. I didn’t think this would be so difficult.”

Katia whirled around to look at Liz. Sure enough, Liz was beaming radiantly at Gabe.

“A baby?” Katia nearly gasped.

Liz only nodded, never taking her eyes off Gabe. She mouthed the words
I love you.

“I love you, darling,” Gabe said.

“This is so fast!” Katia said to Liz. “I feel as though I’ve still got the rice from your wedding in my hair.”

Liz blushed. “That’s how I feel,” she whispered. “It’s just so...”

“Ideal?”

“Yes, Katia.” Liz squeezed her arm affectionately. “I wish every woman in the world could feel what I feel.”

Katia lowered her eyes as she drank in Liz’s joy, which was almost tangible. “So do I.”

Luke slapped Gabe on the back. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

Annie tugged on Sarah’s sleeve. “Are they going to have a baby for real?”

“Yes, sweetheart. For real. Isn’t it delightful?” Sarah smiled and hugged Annie.

Mrs. Beabots clapped her hands together. “What a Thanksgiving present this is!”

Austin stood and shook Gabe’s hand. “Congratulations. That’s terrific news, Gabe. Since you were at your parents’ house for dinner, I assume you just told them, as well?”

“We did. My mother is over the moon, as you can imagine. I think she’s almost forgiven us for not having a big wedding.”

“Well, this should make her happy,” Austin replied.

Timmy sank his fork into the apple pie and took a big bite. Chewing thoughtfully, he finally said, “I hope it’s a boy so I can play with him.”

Liz leaned toward Timmy, who was sitting on the floor at Sarah’s feet. “As soon as we find out, I’ll call Sarah and tell her, okay?”

Timmy’s eyes filled his face. “We’ll be the first to know?”

“After Gabe, yes. I promise.” Liz winked at Sarah.

Katia felt Austin’s eyes on her. She knew he was watching her and registering her reaction to all this. A few months ago, one of her best girlfriends had announced her pregnancy, and though Katia was thrilled for her, she’d felt sad. In a very selfish way, it meant her friend would have less time for her. Less shopping. Less theater. Less camaraderie.

How was it possible that in Indian Lake, everything felt different? Instead of feeling hurt, she was daydreaming about what it would be like to hold Liz’s baby. She thought of the shower she would plan with Mrs. Beabots and Sarah. Of the fun she would have visiting Liz and watching the little one grow. Quickly, she said a prayer that the baby would be healthy.

Katia felt something click in her brain, as if the train of her life had just switched tracks again. The rails she’d been riding weren’t taking her where she wanted or needed to go any longer. She was headed in a new direction, though she didn’t remember making any conscious decision to change course.

She met Austin’s eyes and smiled. He returned her smile and tipped his glass toward her. The excited voices around them dimmed to a subtle hum in the background. For just a second, Katia felt as if she was back in that glittering bubble she’d occupied when she was young and her world had been centered on Austin. She’d been truly happy then, though she hadn’t realized it until just now.

Mrs. Beabots had suggested that Austin might still be in love with her.

It wasn’t until this moment that Katia realized she was in love with Austin.

A tide of emotions swept over and under her, as if she was a surfer who’d just snagged the wrong tip of a curl. She floundered, choking on the revelation. Before it filled her lungs and suffocated her, she reached for the light and broke the surface.

She was in love with Austin. Not the Austin of the past, but the Austin she knew now. She loved the sensitive, committed man he had become. The man who’d grabbed hold of his responsibilities to his father’s business and never complained; the man who generously helped his employees and cared about his community; the man who’d invested in a young Maddie Strong when she’d had no hope for financial aid. She knew that loving him meant accepting his flaws and his reclusive tendencies. She understood that many of his behaviors likely stemmed from a fear of commitment, an avoidance of romantic relationships.

Katia knew all about that. There was a reason she didn’t have a ring on her left hand. She had no wedding planned and there was absolutely no room in her head for thoughts about babies or a family of her own.

In a split second, Katia felt her airway close off as if it had been cauterized. Her hand flew to her throat, but this time, she let her eyes settle on Austin’s smiling face. He didn’t know what was going on with her as she struggled to remain calm.

She matched his smile with one of hers. The terror abated. She took a deep breath.

I’m in love with Austin.

As she said the words over and over in her head, she felt the tension ease, and her breathing return to normal. Then she realized that her heart had been trying to tell her that what she really wanted was not just a family of her own, but a life with Austin. A family with Austin.

Fantastic, Katia. And for you, there’s not a more perfect recipe for disaster than to fall in love with a client.

CHAPTER TWENTY

K
ATIA
NOTICED
THAT
Mrs. Beabots was getting tired as the guests said their good-nights. Only she and Austin remained, and there was at least two hours’ worth of cleanup yet to do, so Katia quickly volunteered.

“You stay in the parlor and rest. I’ll get you some chamomile tea, and I’ll take care of the kitchen for you.”

“I’ll help,” Austin said cheerily.

Katia eyed him. “You are going to wash dishes? Are you sure you know how?”

He feigned insult with his fist over his heart. “You really know how to hurt a guy. I’ve had kitchen detail plenty of times.”

“Like when? You have Daisy.”

“She has Saturday and Sunday nights off. What kind of boss do you think I am?”

Mrs. Beabots smiled. “I have to say, this is one Thanksgiving when I wouldn’t say no to two dishwashers.”

“I didn’t know a holiday could be this, well, fun. And delicious,” Austin said.

“Oh, Austin.” Mrs. Beabots gave him her best pooh-pooh look. “Your mother was a wonderful cook and your Thanksgivings had to be fun. You just don’t remember.”

Austin didn’t take his eyes from Katia. “I remember some of them.”

Mrs. Beabots placed her chin in her hand and smiled. “I’m glad I could make this holiday a good one for you.”

“Memories are important to me,” Austin said. “But I guess you all have figured that out by now.”

“Ah. The museum,” Mrs. Beabots mused. “You’re doing an admirable job preserving your father’s car collection, Austin. You’re to be commended for that.”

“It’s more than just that,” he explained. “I want it to be a real historical gathering place. I want to preserve not just the cars but all the amazing and creative things my great-grandfather did when he worked at Duesenberg in Indianapolis.”

“Oh, I think that’s so lovely,” Mrs. Beabots said ecstatically. “Especially since my husband’s grandfather worked there, as well. Right alongside your great-grandfather, as I recall.”

Austin opened his mouth to speak and shut it instantly. He tilted his head and peered at his hostess. “Raymond’s grandfather? I don’t know about him. But I do remember your husband quite well. He was a real character. You two were always off to a different foreign country every winter.”

Mrs. Beabots smiled wistfully. “That was Raymond. Always looking for another adventure—or at least another business to invest in. Most of them were preposterous schemes. He was so easily bamboozled by a good sales pitch. Raymond liked to believe that he had his grandfather’s knack for invention, but he didn’t, poor thing,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Invention?” Austin asked with a clip in his voice that put Katia on edge. Something was wrong.

“Why, yes. When Fred and August Duesenberg first began hand building their automobiles back in 1913, they lived in St. Paul. Raymond’s grandfather, Joe Beabots, was not much more than a kid then, but he was just as much a self-taught engineer as they were. They hired him on, and he worked for through their bankruptcy in 1922 until 1937, when they had to close. Then Errett Lobban-Cord bought the Duesenberg company and their engineering skills, and they took Joe along with the deal. That’s how the Beabots came to live in Indianapolis.”

“I’m very curious as to what Joe invented, exactly,” Austin said.

“Between you and me, not much, I wouldn’t think. Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t anything momentous. Fred was the genius of the Duesenberg family. At least that’s what Joe said, but Joe was always a modest man. There’s a pile of old newspaper clippings in a scrapbook somewhere. I could try to find them for you, if it’s important.”

Katia watched Austin’s jaw clench and shift as if he was biting back words. He’d shoved his hands into his pockets as he used to do when he was angry, but she didn’t have the slightest idea why he’d be upset about Mrs. Beabots sharing her family’s history with him. Frankly, it was generous of her landlord to draw Austin into her circle, include him in her holiday plans and even share her stories. Apparently, Austin was reading everything the wrong way.

“My father told me that my great-grandfather was responsible for those first dual overhead cams and that he even had significant input on the first hydraulic brakes ever offered on a passenger car.”

“Ah! That was the Model A!” Mrs. Beabots exclaimed with a bright smile. “I remember now. They had such hopes for that car. It’s interesting that you say that, though, because from what Joe always said, I got the impression that Fred and Augie didn’t listen much to others’ ideas. I think Joe was happy he got to hold the screwdrivers and wrenches, so to speak.” She smiled up at Austin.

He pensively chewed his bottom lip.

“Austin, is something wrong?” Katia finally asked.

He rubbed his cheek with his palm. “I’m just a bit baffled because the stories I heard from my father were so different.”

“How?” Katia pressed.

Austin’s eyes clouded over and turned from blue to steel gray, as they did when he shut out the world and retreated inward. It was a look Katia didn’t like at all.

“I always understood somehow that my great-grandfather was almost like a consultant to them. That Fred looked to him for ideas and input. Specifically, my father told me that it was my great-grandfather who created the lion’s share of both those inventions, which were implemented in cars for a hundred years. If what Mrs. Beabots is saying is true, then Fred and August ran the show. They had underlings and apprentices, obviously, like Joe and my great-grandfather, but that was all. Certainly not co-inventors.”

Mrs. Beabots’s eyes were filled with empathy and concern. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line, Austin. I didn’t mean to cause you any consternation. On the contrary, I thought it was endearing that Joe and your great-grandfather might have shared experiences.”

Austin squeezed her hand. “It’s nothing to worry about. How could you know?”

“The truth is that none of us can really say what happened back then at all,” Mrs. Beabots said. “I have hand-me-down stories from my husband’s side of the family, and it’s hard to tell how much they might have embellished the truth. I do know that when World War One came around and the Duesenbergs were building aviation and naval machines in Elizabeth, New Jersey, Joe was there. He was single then and practically a roustabout. He went wherever they went, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.”

Austin’s smile was thin. “I’m sure he was a great guy. And I’m sure there’s truth behind the family history I was given, too.”

“I’m sure there is, Austin,” Katia agreed. “Maybe up in those old trunks in the attic you might find the documentation you need. I can’t believe Hanna would ever have thrown away anything that important.”

Austin released Mrs. Beabots’s hand and glanced at Katia. “I think I should help you get to those dishes.”

She could plainly see that his mind was miles away and a century back in time. “Forget the dishes. I can handle them myself. You have work to do, right?”

“Yes, I do,” he replied, taking her hint. “Thank you for a delicious meal and a wonderful holiday, Mrs. Beabots.”

“You’re most welcome, Austin.”

He turned to Katia. “Thanks. I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

Katia walked him to the door. Just as he stepped outside, she asked, “Are you all right?”

He shook his head. “I’ve just been told that my family history is a hoax. My museum is a theater of pure foolishness, and the dream I’ve held my entire adult life is now some kind of cosmic joke. No, Katia. I’m not all right, and I would ask that you keep all of this under the heading of ‘client privilege.’”

“I’m not going to gossip about you, Austin.”

“Great. That will make one person in Indian Lake.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him close to her. “I’m your friend, Austin. Not your enemy. When are you going to realize that?”

“Really? I thought you were my insurance agent.”

He pulled his arm back and rushed down the steps to his car.

In the blink of an eye, Austin had sped away into the night shadows.

* * *

K
ATIA
FINISHED
THE
dishes, dried the pots and pans and put away the crystal. She brewed a fresh cup of tea for Mrs. Beabots, who was dozing in the tufted Victorian chair in the front parlor.

“I made you some tea,” Katia whispered, wondering if she should wake her friend.

Mrs. Beabots opened her eyes. “I feel just terrible,” she announced with a frown.

Katia was worried about Austin, but her heart was filled with just as much empathy for Mrs. Beabots, who had stumbled into a hornets’ nest of generations’ old tales and legends. None of this mess was her fault, and the worst part was that Mrs. Beabots had thought she’d won back Austin’s friendship.

“What can I get you? What can I do?” Katia asked.

Mrs. Beabots gestured for Katia to sit next to her. “It’s just heartsickness. I feel awful about what I said to Austin. I have always made it a habit not to meddle into other people’s lives. Goodness knows that I had plenty of people telling me what to do when I was young. I wouldn’t have hurt Austin’s feelings for the world.” She rested her cheek against her palm and stared up at Katia.

“You can’t blame yourself. You were simply sharing your story. You had no idea that he’s been living under false pretenses all these years,” Katia said heavily.

Mrs. Beabots slapped her thigh. “I’m ashamed of Hanna and Daniel for these...myths they’ve filled Austin’s head with.”

“What if it wasn’t their fault, either?”

“What do you mean, Katia?”

“I lived in that house most of my childhood. Neither of them ever impressed me as duplicitous. What if the source of the problem goes all the way back to Austin’s great-grandfather? Perhaps he created these stories to aggrandize himself in the eyes of the townspeople. When he came to Indian Lake, initially, after the Duesenberg plant shut down in 1937, he wasn’t rich. I heard Daniel tell Austin that several times. Austin’s great-grandfather, Ambrose, established the family business with his son, David, who was only about fifteen then.”

“I see your point. The real truth is probably long buried with the past.”

Katia nodded solemnly and looked down at her hands. “Austin has spent his whole life revering the past. He’s come to believe all of his ancestors were better, smarter, more creative, more influential than he is. He doesn’t understand his own worth.”

Mrs. Beabots leaned forward and touched Katia’s arm. “I have always believed that everything in this life happens for a reason. Even when we don’t understand that reason at the exact moment we’re seeking answers, we will understand eventually. I believe you came back to Indian Lake to save more than your boss’s company, Katia. I believe there is a young man out there who has been floundering a bit too long. Mostly, I believe that we all have to save ourselves, but sometimes we can do that by helping others.”

“You think I should go see Austin?”

“I do. And the sooner the better. He was very upset when he left.”

Katia rose, leaned down and kissed Mrs. Beabots’s forehead. “I know just where to find him.”

* * *

A
GENTLE
SNOW
had begun to fall outside, decorating the rooftops and bare tree branches.

Katia parked outside the McCreary mansion and walked to the back of the property. Not a single light was on in the house, which she’d expected.

She followed the curve of the driveway to the gate that led to the carriage houses. The entire backyard, tennis court and two of the carriage houses were pitch-dark. But the third carriage house was ablaze with lights.

Katia had learned to unlatch the gate long ago, and tonight it opened easily for her. She knew Austin had left it unlocked on purpose. He was hoping she would come after him. She tried the carriage house door. It, too, was unlocked.

Rather than barge in, she knocked. One soft rap. Then three hard ones.

There was no answer. Katia took a deep breath for courage and opened the door.

“Austin?” She went inside, closed the door and looked around the garage.

Austin was bent over the engine of the blue Bugatti. His hands were covered with grease, and he wore an old pair of work overalls. He used to wear those overalls in high school, whenever he retreated to his sanctuary—just as he was doing now. She’d teased him then that the overalls were his armor against his parents, who wanted him to aspire to become head of the McCreary business and not just be a mechanic.

“Do you know that it was this Bugatti engine that caused the Duesenbergs to radically change nearly all their engineering ideas?” Austin said without taking his eyes off his work. “Sure, the First World War was coming about, but this straight-eight engine was actually two straight-four engines mounted in a series on an everyday crankcase with two flat crankshafts, which were both linked at ninety degrees to form a single shaft. The competition back then was crushing. The world was changing because of the war. They had to innovate to stay in the game. They landed an American contract to produce the engine for the French government, which would be used for war vehicles of all sorts.” Austin stood and leveled his gaze at her.

He obviously wasn’t surprised to see her. He acted as if her coming to him late at night was a habit. Something they’d been doing for years. “And that’s the history of how the famous Duesenberg straight-eight engine came to be.”

“Fascinating,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, her head tilted to the right. “Do you mind telling me what any of that has got to do with your anger and your parting shots at me earlier this evening?”

He picked up a rag and wiped his hands. “History, Katia, is in its purest form the retelling of facts.”

She harrumphed. “We both know that’s not true. History is the filtered legends and myths of politicos who want to be remembered for things they did or didn’t do.”

“You are so jaded.”

“And you, my friend, are being naive,” she bantered back. This wasn’t the time to assuage Austin’s pain, but to set him straight. Though she had only just realized she was still in love with him, she couldn’t allow her emotions to alter good judgment. In her opinion, Austin was off base in trying to give accolades and honors to his great-grandfather when it was possible that the man didn’t deserve them at all. Why couldn’t he see that
he
was a worthy person, perhaps even more so than Ambrose or his father? Austin had never manipulated the truth to aggrandize himself. She believed he was the best of all the McCrearys.