Lover's Knot, page 46
Kendra ignored him and turned back to Randy. “Randy, neither Cash nor his dad is going to be happy about you bringing your friends to a worksite. You’d better get going. I won’t say anything. But don’t come back like this again.”
“I got no job. Quit today!” Randy puffed out his chest, but his eyes looked troubled.
Maybe his inner turmoil was a result of too much beer, or maybe it was genuine regret. She didn’t know, but she took a step closer so she could lower her voice.
“Why? Cash told me you’re a good worker.”
“I do better work than any two men on that crew whether I’m sober or not. He’s got no reason to criticize me. I don’t have to take that from nobody.”
She lowered her voice still further. “Does this seem like a better way to spend your time?”
He narrowed his eyes. Beer bravado. She’d seen it before. But she also saw it was passing quickly, and the reality of what he’d done was beginning to hit him.
“Go,” she said even more softly. “Listen, just get out of here. Go home and sober up, then talk to Manning or Cash. Tell them you’ll never drink on the job again. Maybe you can fix this.”
“No, we come to kill that snake.”
“Randy, I’m sorry I embarrassed you the day you tried to shoot the snake. I really am. But my snake is not what’s wrong with your life.”
He sniffed. For a moment she was afraid he was going to burst into tears, a scene he would never live down. Then he straightened his shoulders as best he could and beckoned to his friends.
“Lady don’t want us, boys. Her loss.”
Kendra stepped back and watched the other two men laugh as Randy wove a circuitous path back to the truck. He made it without falling, a feat that seemed to take an inordinate amount of skill.
She stepped in front of the smoker before he could follow. “I hope one of you had less to drink than Randy.”
“Oh, I’ll drive.” The man gave a forced laugh and flipped another butt to the ground, making a half-hearted attempt to grind it into the earth with the sole of his work boot. “Bet there weren’t no snake to start with.”
She concentrated on every stone that spun under their tires as they backed toward her Lexus. The pickup had turned and was on its way back down the driveway before the impact of the past few minutes hit her. She was trembling. Her stomach was churning, but she had survived the confrontation. She had stood up for herself. The Kendra Taylor who had covered dangerous stories, who had put herself in harm’s way for the sake of a byline, might never emerge again. But she could live with the woman she had become.
The retreat had ended. The rest of her life had begun.
She waited a few minutes to be sure the men didn’t return; then, with one deep breath, she started back into the woods.
* * *
Isaac read the note on the Lexus windshield and knew there was no point in going up to the house. Kendra was prowling through the woods, and if he wanted to talk to her, he had to go there to find her.
He was in no particular hurry, and he supposed this was a good time to get used to that. He strolled a short distance in, listening as he went and enjoying the way the temperature dropped. He didn’t call her name until he was out of sight of the clearing.
“K.C., are you in here somewhere?”
He heard a noise ahead of him. Then Kendra backed out of a thicket of blackberries about ten yards away. “What are you doing here?”
He covered the ground between them, skirting trees, avoiding spiderwebs and vines. When he reached her, he slipped his arms around her waist. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you the story of Little Red Riding Hood?”
She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. “The Big Bad Wolf and his friends were just here. You must be the friendly Woodcutter.”
“Wolf?”
“Long story. Not to worry.”
He kissed her forehead; then he hugged her again, pillowing her face against his shoulder. He realized just how much he had longed for this in the hours since he had met with Aubrey. “I guess you’re really not in any danger of getting lost or eaten, are you.”
“Not much. Any straightish line will take me back to civilization. And I’m too skinny to tempt any critters.” She stepped back so she could examine him. “What’s up? You’re the last person I expected to see.”
“Who was the first?”
“Well, Caleb’s supposed to be here pretty soon. You didn’t see him, did you?”
“Not yet, but I read the note.” He smoothed her hair behind her ears. “I’m glad I found you.”
His smile faltered, and she began to look concerned. “Really. What are you doing here? It’s Wednesday.”
“I was more or less in the neighborhood. Well, a lot less than more.”
“Okay, I’m intrigued.”
She was waiting, clearly aware that something had changed. He supposed that level of intuition came with the package when a man and woman were intimate.
Now he dug for the right words, words that would explain his feelings easily, until at last he shrugged. “I went to see Gary Forsythe.”
He watched the way her smile disappeared in tiny increments. “Should I ask why?”
“I went to tell him exactly what’s up with Pallatine.”
“Has he signed the papers, then?”
That, of course, was the big question. Had Isaac bought into Dennis’s plan? In a way, the question seemed odd to him now. That he had ever considered not telling Forsythe seemed impossible.
“No, the closing’s scheduled for next week. Since Heather is leaving, she was going to tell Forsythe herself and take the fall, but in the end, I told him, because I was the one who needed to.”
He could see she understood everything this entailed. She looked worried, but still, despite that, pleased. “I can’t imagine how you feel. And now you wait to see what happens?”
“I know what will happen. I gave him the names of two other organizations who will buy Pallatine with the right kind of promises. All his lawyer has to do is wave the names at Dennis, and Forsythe will get any stipulations he wants. I’m sure ACRE will end up with the land. Dennis will scurry around soothing feelings and finding the money somewhere else. Then he’ll brag about what a great deal he made, and how strong his scruples are. Most people will be happy enough, except the ones who were going to build environmentally friendly mini-mansions.”
“And you?”
Isaac was surprised to find he was no longer worried. “Me? I’m toast.”
“You’re certain?”
“Just to be sure nobody’s in the dark about who did what or why, I’ll write an account of the entire transaction for the board. Then I’ll follow it with my resignation, which will be accepted immediately. They’ll tell me how sorry they are to lose me. Then I’ll be escorted out of the building by a security guard. I’ll be lucky if they give me enough time to grab your photo off my desk.”
Her gaze softened. She placed her palm against his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
He held her hand in place for a moment; then he kissed it. “There’s no reason to be. I feel better than I’ve felt in months.” He pulled her face against his shoulder again and ruffled her curls. How could he explain that, for the first time in a long time, he felt free? Free to figure out who he was and what he really wanted. Free to follow a path somewhere other than to the top. Free to try new ideas, new approaches, find new solutions.
He tried as best as he could. “I’ve been walking a tightrope for a long time. Today I just dove off, and there was a safety net below me.”
“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been working your way into a job where you felt you could make a real difference. This is going to affect that, isn’t it?”
“I hope I can make a difference by doing what I know is right. If I can’t, at least I can live with myself.”
“I know you, Isaac. You’ll find a way.”
He yearned to tell her so much, but the words were still hard to find. They always would be, but from now on he would search harder.
“I think wanting to make a difference...” He struggled. “It was more than just being concerned for the earth. That’s a lot of it. But some of it was wanting to be a different person.”
She hugged him. “You never needed to be. The original is plenty wonderful.”
“I have a lot to tell—”
She jumped back, pulling him with her. For a moment he thought she was reacting to what he had said; then the largest snake he had ever seen came streaking through the woods, passing just inches from where they had been standing.
“I—”
An explosion rocked the quiet forest. He clutched Kendra, then immediately realized where the noise had come from.
He began to run. He knew Kendra was somewhere behind him, but he left her to fend for herself. He dodged trees, jumped logs and made it to the clearing just in time to see the western portion of the front porch go up in flames.
Isaac punched 911 on his cell phone, but even as he made the report, a whoosh sounded and flames shot through the porch roof.
“Isaac...what!” Kendra made it into the clearing, but by then he was already running up the steps to get the animals. Above him, a figure emerged through the smoke.
“Caleb!” Isaac realized the boy was carrying the spitting, clawing cat under one arm and, somehow, Kendra’s puppy under the other. He grabbed Ten from the boy, and together they made it down the steps. Caleb deposited Dusty on the ground, but before Isaac could stop him, he ran back up.
“Caleb! Come back here!” Isaac set Ten on the ground, too, and started after him.
This time Caleb ran to the bedroom portion of the house, which was farther from the flames, threw open the door and began to grab what he could and toss it over the railing. Before Isaac made it to the porch, Caleb was trying frantically to save the last of Kendra’s mementoes. Isaac saw quilts flying, then framed photos, Kendra’s new sewing basket, a jewelry box. He grabbed Caleb’s arm and, as the boy protested, he jerked him back down the steps to safety.
Kendra ran closer to grab the things Caleb had managed to save, dragging them to her car and out of harm’s way. Then Kendra hugged the teen. “Nothing’s worth what you are, Caleb. Don’t you dare go back up there!”
“We can beat it out,” Caleb shouted. “We can try.”
Isaac watched as the flames engulfed the old dry logs. “We can’t. The cabin’s going to be gone before the fire department gets here. All they can do at this point is keep the fire from moving to the forest and the barn wood.”
He put one arm around Kendra and another around the boy, and pulled them farther away from the heat and smoke. Dusty followed to whimper at their feet. Ten had climbed a tree behind them and was yowling angrily.
Kendra gulped; then she began to cry. “A cigarette. That’s why Cash won’t let his men smoke around the cabin. I should have checked. There were some men here earlier, and one of them was smoking. I didn’t pay enough attention where he threw his butt. It’s been so dry. It must have smoldered all this time in the old beadboard until something else caught. The crew brought supplies today. Something fed the flames.”
A butt, something dry, something volatile. Isaac could see how it had happened.
They were in rural Virginia, but the Toms Brook volunteer fire department was organized and efficient. Over the crackling of the flames, he heard the faintest sound of a siren.
“They’re on their way.” He didn’t want to give false hope. “But not in time.”
“At least I got your quilts, Kendra.” Caleb sounded as if he was near tears himself. “They were in a stack by your bedroom door. At least you have those.”
“I know. I know. Thank you. I...” Suddenly she turned to Isaac. “Oh, Isaac, not all of them. Your grandmother’s quilt. Leah’s Lover’s Knot was in the other part of the house. On a chair under a tarp.” She started to sob again. “The quilt, the house, everything Leah left you...”
Isaac shook his head and pulled her close, keeping one arm around Caleb, too, to be sure the teenager didn’t try anything foolish.
“K.C., listen. You, too, Caleb. Let it go. We’ll build another house here. The cabin doesn’t matter. The quilt doesn’t matter. They’ve both served their purpose. Trust me. All the things Leah really meant for me to have are still right here.”
The siren grew louder. Soon the clearing would be filled with firefighters struggling to save what no longer mattered. They stood together, and as the cabin burned, Isaac silently thanked his grandmother for everything she had given him.
EPILOGUE
KENDRA SLAMMED THE front door and tossed her keys on the aluminum television tray, fairly sure she had beaten her husband home. The clank of her keys on the metal always drove Isaac crazy. The sight of the tray, something Barry had rejected and left in the basement when he moved, drove Isaac crazy, too.
She couldn’t blame him. Three months had passed since their move to Arlington, and she still hadn’t found the right piece of furniture to put beside the door. She wanted an authentic Limbert side table, and the search was going slowly. The little Craftsman bungalow was still more than half empty. Between resuming her job part-time, researching her book, moving here and starting from scratch on plans for the house on the river, time to meander through antiques stores was at a premium. But she made the time whenever she could, and she refused to be rushed. Making a home was an experience to savor.
Something crashed in the kitchen, and she froze. Then she heard Isaac’s voice.
“That’s it! I’ve had it! Out you go.”
She heard the door slam and laughed, knowing exactly what had happened. Isaac was home after all, and the animals were not behaving.
She walked through the house, still with the slightest of limps. She was at peace with her body, and she viewed the limp as a reminder to slow down and view the world around her. She did that now, savoring the things she and Isaac had already managed to do.
The walls were painted warm earth tones; the polished floors were dotted with Oriental carpets she and Isaac had fought over, compromised on and now loved dearly. Two Gustav Stickley rockers flanked the fireplace. Harold Doolittle etchings of mountains and evergreens adorned one adjacent wall, and photographs, including copies of some that Aubrey had given Isaac of his grandparents and some Caleb had taken of the Blackburn and Spurlock land, lined the other.
A plush garnet-colored chenille sofa proved the Taylors were eclectic enough in their tastes to be comfortable. The log cabin album quilt she’d been given by Helen and the other quilters embellished the back of it. Upstairs, the other quilts in her collection hung from a rack beside their bed, including the top she was still piecing from the old blocks Helen had given her. She had managed to attend two meetings of the SCC Bee since moving back to northern Virginia. She was enthusiastic, but no one had yet proclaimed she had talent.
She reached the kitchen and leaned against the door frame, enjoying the twin aromas of lemongrass and garlic as she watched her husband cook. His mother’s collection of china plates decorated the tops of the cabinets, providing a homey, feminine accent above his head.
“I almost picked up Peruvian chicken. I’m glad I didn’t. Is that your famous pad thai?”
Isaac looked up, and Kendra watched his eyes light.
“Hey, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“The Rug and the Rascal took care of that.”
“Dusty’s found her inner puppy. I cleaned up an entire roll of toilet paper, starting in the bathroom and ending upstairs. It was a map of the day’s pursuits.”
“Ten probably helped.”
“No doubt he was the instigator.” He switched off the burner and came over for a kiss.
She put her arms around his waist and leaned against him. “How did your day go?”
“Terrific. We had a meeting and decided that everyone had to take pay cuts. I’m now making fifteen percent less than I was last week, which was nothing. Think of it as a bigger donation to charity. And yes, it’s pad thai. To win you over to our cause.”
She laughed because she could. She knew how lucky she and Isaac were to be so financially stable that he could take this kind of risk. He had added his talents to a roster of a dozen disenchanted ACRE employees and was now the chief operating officer of an organization so new the staff was still arguing missions, job titles and, most of all, a name. Someday soon they had to work their way to funding sources. But Isaac was in his element, creating the right kind of organization from the ground up. She had never seen him happier. And, with his usual artistic flair, he had already designed their logo, the unmistakable peaks of Pallatine Mountain, with an eagle soaring high above them.
“You don’t need to win me over,” she said. “They need you. Eventually you’ll whip them into shape.”
“If I live that long.” He squeezed, then let her go. “Jamie called.”
“Are they coming for Christmas?”
“You’re supposed to call back. But let’s just say we can’t avoid furnishing the guest rooms much longer.” He went back to his pan, flipped on the burner and began to stir. “Tell me about your day.”
She would, she knew. She would open a bottle of wine and pour each of them a glass. She would lean against the counter while he finished cooking, and they would laugh together over things that had happened in the newsroom. Eventually they would welcome the pets back inside. Maybe they would plan for their upcoming weekend at Gayle Fortman’s B and B on the Shenandoah, and talk about where they would go out to eat on Friday night with Elisa and Sam, and how long they could steal Caleb from the Claibornes on Saturday for a hike in the mountains. They might even look at the newest set of house plans, or discuss the merits of timber frame versus log construction.
