Authors: Mariah Stewart

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

Enright Family Collection (18 page)

“India, are you sure you don’t want to think this over? This was not an inexpensive project.”

“What’s to think over?” India shrugged. “It’s Devlin trust money, anyway. Ry’s and mine. I can’t think of a better way to spend it.”

“Would you want to see the plans Ry had drawn up?”

“Sure.” India nodded enthusiastically. “There’s no time like the present.”

“I’ll be right back.” Darla stood up, her shoulders still sagging from the weight of her sadness.

“We’ll fix it, Ry,” India whispered aloud as she poured herself another cup of coffee. “I can’t bring you back, but maybe I can help bring the life back into Darla’s eyes. Maybe we can get her business going so that she can support herself and the kids and maybe someday she’ll even be happy again. Maybe, with your help, we can make it happen for her.”

“Here’s Ry’s briefcase.” Darla swung the black leather satchel onto the kitchen table and unsnapped the closure. She opened the lid and swung it around so that it stood open to India’s scrutiny.

Inside lay folders, dark brown heavy cardboard secured with black elastic to keep the contents in. Each was named, the inch-high letters printed in Ry’s neat hand, in black felt-tipped pen. India’s fingers walked through the stack, scrolling the files.

Her brother had been meticulous in his research into the restoration of the Light. One file held paint chips and paint charts from several manufacturers of historic colors. India smiled. It was exactly Ry’s style to try to match both the exterior and interior shades as closely as possible.

Another file held a diagram of the massive fireplace that stood between the two main rooms of the Light’s first floor, as well as detailed photographs of every aspect of the structure. Several business cards of masons who specialized
in brick restoration were paper-clipped to one side of the folder. A hand-printed list of books relating to historic fireplaces was included in the file, as were Ry’s sketches of how he saw the rooms once the renovations had been completed.

Ry’s optimism, his plans for his life with Darla lay before India’s eyes in the thin, penciled lines hastily sketched upon white construction paper. It pulled at her heart, which she had thought to be beyond breaking any further. In Ry’s hand, the rooms had become beautiful again in their simplicity, with small round tables and mismatched wooden chairs. Those same windows, which had not, to her knowledge, been opened in more than a hundred years, stood open to the sun and the soft salty breezes off the bay. She saw the Light through her brother’s eyes and knew that it was all exactly right, exactly the way it should be. The way it had to be.

India slid the sketches back into the folder and replaced the elastic before carefully opening the next folder. Ry’s plans for the Light itself. Restored and opened for small tours, from spring through November. Another folder held his budget for the projects. Darla had not exaggerated. Ry was preparing to spend a lot of money on the restoration and to start up Darla’s business. India tapped her fingers on the table as she studied the figures. More than she had thought. Mentally she shrugged, knowing Darla was watching her face. It was Ry’s money, his portion of the trust. If that’s how he had wanted to spend it, that’s how it would be.

“Was anyone working with Ry on this?” India asked Darla.

“Just me.” Darla sat blotting soft tears from her face. “And sometimes Nick.”

A flicker crossed India’s face at the mention of Nick’s name, a fact that was not lost upon Darla.

“Maybe we should ask him to help us,” Darla suggested.

“I think Nick has his own work to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know. He likes a nice diversion now and again. And he’s been working on that thesis for quite some time, you know. He can’t spend all his time working. And besides, Ry trusted him. They were like two sides of the
same coin sometimes,” Darla said softly, then smiled and added, “Sort of like the way you and I are, Indy. Nick and Ry were best friends in the truest sense. They liked and respected each other. They helped each other. I do not know what I would do without Nick, Indy.”

India looked up at her friend, questioning without meaning to.

“He just always seems to know when one of us is hurting. He stops at August’s several times a week, did you know? He has tea with her in the afternoon sometimes. He stops here to see if I need help getting my orders out. To see if Jack wants to throw a ball around or go down to the beach and talk. He never stays too long and he never asks anything from anyone. He’s just there and lends a hand and then goes about his business. Like he’s taken us all under his wing and watches out for us.”

“He seems to be a very good man.” India measured her words carefully.

“A very good man,” Darla repeated evenly, then after a moment’s silence between the two of them, she burst out laughing.

“India, Nick Enright is a hunk. He is sexy, he is smart. He is thoughtful. He is fun to be around. You are probably the only woman in Devlin’s Light who has
ever
described him simply as a very good man. Now, I do not recall you ever having been totally blind as far as handsome men are concerned. So stop being so coy. Would you please admit that you are interested in the man as something more than a source of information?”

“I’m interested in the man as something more than a source of information,” India repeated.

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“I guess I feel awkward,” India said, searching for words.

“Why should you feel awkward?”

“Well, on the one hand, it feels odd to be lusting after anyone at the same time that I still feel as if I’m grieving over Ry. And on the other hand, there just seems to be so much going on right now, and I don’t feel capable of handling it all.”

“The lust and grief we’ll deal with in a minute.” Darla pushed the briefcase aside and sat back down at the table.
“Right now I want you to tell me what you think you can’t handle.”

“My job and Corrie. Paloma and Devlin’s Light. Ruthless prosecutor totally focused on her job and dedicated, parent figure-guardian to a darling little girl who needs and totally deserves a dedicated and loving parental figure.” India leaned back against her chair, turning her head partway in Darla’s direction. “It’s as if I have two separate lives and I don’t know how to make them work together.”

“Maybe they can’t work together, not as things are now,” Darla said tentatively. “Maybe you need to make some changes if it’s all going to work.”

“I can’t make any changes right now. I have cases to finish up. I have—”

“I know, bad guys to put away, dragons to slay.” India had gotten up and was now pacing slightly. To Darla, she looked like a spring ready to pop out of control.

“India, how many dragons before it’s all put to rest?” Darla asked softly.

“Dar, please …”

“Indy, you know and I know that the best thing, the most obvious solution is for you to come back to Devlin’s Light. You can raise Corri here and still work—you know you’ll be able to find a job without any problem at all.”

“I keep thinking about everything I’ve done over the past few years. The cases I tried. The people I’ve worked with. The life I tried to make for myself away from Devlin’s Light.” India leaned back in her chair and fixed her gaze on a spot on the ceiling. “All I wanted to do was to be a really good prosecutor.”

“And that’s exactly what you are, Indy. Everyone in Devlin’s Light has followed your career, and we’re all proud of you. If that is all you want from your life—to have done your job well—then you have already succeeded.” Darla stood up and rubbed India’s shoulders. “I just think that maybe you’ve had a taste of something else, and maybe just doing your job isn’t going to be enough for you now. Sorta like that old song: ‘How ya gonna keep ’em down on the farm, after they’ve seen Paree?’”

India laughed.

“You want to know what I think?” Darla asked.

“I am not certain that I do, but I am certain that you will tell me.”

“I think that in spite of yourself, in spite of everything that has happened over the years, I think your heart is in Devlin’s Light. And I think you’ll never be truly happy anywhere else.”

India dismissed Darla’s comments with a wave of her hand. “What makes you think I’m not happy in Paloma?”

“Oh, well, if working sixteen-hour days seven days a week makes you happy,” Darla said, folding her arms across her chest, “and if looking into the souls of the lowest, the sickest members of society makes you happy, then I guess you must be one happy girl. Can you tell me you are, in fact, one happy girl?”

Before India could open her mouth, Darla said, “Don’t bother trying to con me, India, because I have known you too well for too long. And it might surprise you to know that your brother felt the same way I do.”

“Well, he was wrong and so are you. I have a good life in Paloma.”

“What do you do, besides work?”

“I belong to a book-discussion group.”

“When was the last time you went? What was the last book they discussed? Let me guess. It was something like
The Barn Burners
, right?” Darla named a bestseller from almost two years ago, and India laughed in spite of her best efforts not to.

“Actually, it was. But it wasn’t that long ago.”

“What else?” Darla gestured for India to continue.

“Well, I still go to the gym and box.”

“Last time?”

“Two months ago.”

“Well, that beats the book club.” Darla grinned, then leaned forward and asked slyly, “But when was your last really hot date?”

“About six months ago,” India admitted.

“Not that Ron guy, the guy from your office?” Darla’s eyes widened in horror.

India nodded her head somewhat sheepishly.

“Well, there you are!” Darla told her triumphantly. “You name one man you’ve met in Paloma who is, pound for
pound, dollar for dollar, a better prospect than Nick En-right. And he’s right here, India. Right in your own back yard.”

“You make it sound as if he’s pining away for me,” India scoffed.

“Who’s to say he isn’t?”

“This is silly. Nick doesn’t need to pine after any woman.” India stood up to put distance between herself and Darla. “He is handsome and sexy and smart and—”

She stopped and looked at Darla.

“And everything else you said he was. And no,” she said more softly, “there is no one in Paloma quite like Nick.”

“I’ll bet there’s no one anywhere quite like Nick,” Darla said. “He’s one of a kind. Like Ry was. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that there will never be anyone quite like him again.”

They shared a silence, deep but not uncomfortable, till Darla spoke up. “I really loved Ry with all my heart. I would give anything—anything—to have just a little more time with him. To hear his voice. Touch him. Laugh with him. It hurts me more than I can say to know that that whole part of my life is done forever.”

“You don’t think you’ll ever find anyone else?”

“Could anyone fill Ry’s shoes?” Darla smiled a crooked half smile. “No, sweetie, I can’t imagine that there could be anyone else. Ry was the love of my life. Anything else would just be pretending. I spent enough years pretending when I was married to Kenny. I have my kids, and I have my work. And I have my memories.”

“Memories may not be enough as time passes. Ry’s only been gone a few months, Dar. Things can change.”

“I don’t know that I can believe that things could ever change that much. But you,” she said, wagging a finger at India, “you have it all still ahead of you. If the chance is there for that kind of love, take it and cherish it for as long as you have it. If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that life can be very fickle. If you know what you want, India, go after it with everything you’ve got.”

“Maybe I don’t know for sure what I want.”

“Well, I sure hope that Nick is still around by the time
you make up your mind, sweetie.” Darla shook her head slowly. “And before someone else comes along and swoops him up.”

India tried to make light of it, but the thought of Nick kissing someone else—of him making her dessert, of him bringing her a birthday cake or mowing her lawn—taunted her all the way back to Darien Road.