Read Ladd Haven Online

Authors: Dianne Venetta

Tags: #romance, #southern, #mystery, #family, #small town, #contemporary, #series, #saga, #tennessee, #cozy

Ladd Haven (32 page)

Cal stepped away from Annie. Locating
the nearest bench, he lowered to a bench, dropped his elbows to his
knees, burying his face in his hands. Annie hurried to his side,
placed a hand to his back. “Talk to me, Cal. What’s going
on?”


It’s ugly. Momma is
fighting Jack’s battle because of Daddy’s past with
Susannah.”

Annie dropped to a seat next to him,
the rich scent of pine infusing the air around them with a serenity
she needed but did not feel. A beautiful mountain evening was
unfolding, but it was stained by an unfortunate turn of events.
Victoria couldn’t possibly be holding a grudge over Susannah Ladd
after all these years. The woman was dead. Gerald and Susannah were
ancient history—they’d been teenagers, for Heaven’s sake! Annie
honed in on Cal’s face as he raised his gaze to hers. Could
she?


Daddy is caught in the
middle and I’m afraid it’s his fault.”


His fault?”


I think he’s been pining
for Susannah more sharply than we realized.”

Oh, no... Annie looked away, settling
on a clump of ferns. Realization settled in like a barrel of cold
molasses. She recalled his offer to buy her share of Ladd Springs.
He’d been quick to offer, excited by the prospect. At the time
Annie had chalked it up to his passion for land, his admiration for
the beauty and abundance of Ladd Springs, the rivers and streams,
the wealth of natural springs. She tried to remember Victoria’s
reaction but nothing stuck out as memorable. Victoria didn’t
cringe, she didn’t protest. The woman didn’t so much as
blink.

Could it be true she’d been harboring a
stubborn jealousy all these years?

The pain in Cal’s gentle eyes tore at
Annie’s heart. This cut deep for him. Jack was his brother,
Victoria and Gerald his parents, Troy his soon-to-be son-in-law.
Cal was caught in the middle, tangled in a web he had no part in
spinning “I’m sorry, Cal. This can’t be pleasant for
you.”


It’s not pleasant for
anyone. Momma was angry. When we were there to confront Jack,
convince him to change his mind about these assault charges, Momma
appeared out of nowhere and told us where to go and don’t waste
time gettin’ there. She didn’t know it, but Daddy was standing
behind her. He didn’t say anything but the look in his eyes...” Cal
looked away. “It was sadder than a lonesome breeze through a cold
forest of pine. It was a look I saw for the first time, but
Momma”—he shook his head—“I think it must have been something she’s
been living with for too long. The dam on her emotions finally
broke.”

It never occurred to Annie that Gerald
and Victoria could be the ones hurting the most right now. The two
had built a life together, had four sons, a reputation as a loving
couple. Annie had always thought the rumor mill was churning
because folks were jealous of Gerald’s and Victoria’s ideal
marriage. Annie never suspected it was due to a deep-rooted truth.
“Do you think she would listen to reason? Could you talk to
her?”


What kind of reason speaks
to a woman scorned?”

Annie pulled back. He had a point. “But
she has to, Cal. She has to understand the repercussions of this
decision.”


She might be a woman tired
of patchin’ together the threads of her heart. Jack is moving out
of the house, but I don’t know how far he’ll get.”


If we’re lucky, he’ll make
it across the state line and never look back.”


Don’t count on it. Not with
Momma’s support.”

Distracted by movement, Annie turned,
searching a cluster of rhododendron rising behind the hydrangea.
She searched for signs of an animal. Had it been a bird? A
squirrel? Running her gaze up the trunk of a nearby tree, she
sifted through leaves and branches but saw nothing. Returning to
Cal, she asked, “What about family? Don’t you think it would matter
to her to know she’s tearing apart the family by supporting
Jack?”

Cal dragged his hands down his face,
raked them back over his head. “Maybe.” Blowing a ragged sigh, he
turned to Annie. “Family’s always been important to her. Maybe it
will make a difference this time.”

 

Felicity ducked further behind the
bushes, careful to avoid detection by Casey’s mother. After
returning Blue to the stables, she’d come here looking for Casey,
prepared to offer her help in any way. But while eavesdropping on
her mother’s and Cal’s conversation, an idea had formed. Victoria
Foster was a mother, a woman. Her family was being torn apart.
Naturally she wanted to stick up for her child, grown adult or not.
Only in this case it was misguided. She didn’t understand what
actually happened. She only understood what she’d been told. Of
course her son was going to lie to her. He was trying to protect
himself.

Moving away from the entrance, Felicity
retreated and headed for her car. Travis was right about one thing.
Passion had a way of making people do things. In the heat of the
moment, people said and did things they wouldn’t ordinarily do or
say. She’d done it with her mom. She’d said hateful things the
night after her botched dinner with the Fosters, none of which were
true. But she’d been angry, hurt. Maybe her father had been drunk
the night he hit her mom, like at the stables the other night.
Maybe alcohol was the real problem and not the man. It could be
true. It was possible. Felicity pulled keys from her purse and
centered on the notion. Without the alcohol her father could prove
to be a decent person.

Look at Troy. His poor decisions had
been due to drinking. He’d been fired because of it. Now that he’d
quit drinking, he was back home, back with Casey. He was rising
above his past to be the man he was meant to be. If Troy could do
it, maybe her father could too. Maybe Jack Foster could beat the
bottle and live the life he was meant to be—father, community
leader—whatever he wanted to do he could, so long as he quit
drinking. Victoria Foster didn’t want her son to be a drunk, did
she? Especially not to the point of misconduct. A shiver passed
through her. Criminal misconduct.

Yes. Victoria, like any mother, would
want what’s best for her son. She’d want him to be the best he
could be. She’d want him to have a relationship with his daughter.
She’d said as much during their dinner, making a fuss about the
importance of family—of blood—and how they needed to stay close. If
Felicity could convince Mrs. Foster that Jack was hurting the
family, preventing any potential for a relationship between
Felicity and the Foster family, maybe she’d drop this misguided
support for her son. She was a reasonable woman. She had a heart.
She cared about family, about people. Withdrawing her support in
this case wouldn’t mean she was abandoning her son, quite the
opposite. She could help him change. Like Troy, maybe Jack Foster
could change his ways. If only someone was there to extend a hand
in forgiveness. Why shouldn’t that person be her?

 

Seated on the edge of a hay
bale, Troy decided to call Casey. If she was on her way, he was
gonna tell her to stop, meet him at the diner instead. He was
hungry and tired and in no mood to face his parents, not without
first discussing his options with Casey. The two of them needed to
talk before he made any final decisions.
Decisions
. Big decisions like where to
live, how to earn some money. Angst skirted through his pulse. They
had a baby on the way and he was responsible. He had to find a way
to provide for both her and Casey.

Casey told him it was a girl. A little
girl. His heart swelled. He was gonna be a daddy to a baby girl.
Glancing around the barn, the horse tack, the feed—this was the
core of his life, a life he was gonna share with a child.
Envisioning a chubby little face beaming up at him, dark curls of
hair covering her head, Troy reaffirmed his need to provide. Only
for the time being, that paycheck wasn’t gonna come from Harris
Hotels. Troy accepted Mr. Harris’ decision about hotel policy. It
was a good policy. No one needed criminals working the grounds of a
fancy hotel.

Criminal
. The word snaked through him. He was no criminal. Jack Foster
was the criminal. Heading for a phone in the barn office, he dialed
Casey’s number. When she didn’t pick up, he left a message, “Case,
I’m leaving. Meet me at the diner.” On second thought, “Call me,
will ya?”

Ending the call, he cursed. He forgot
that his cell phone was dead. Hopefully Travis had dropped his
truck at the parking lot but without a phone, there was no way to
confirm. Shaking his head, he walked out of the barn, headed out.
Dad gum truck better be there.

 

Suddenly Casey’s car began to slow.
“What the—” She pressed the accelerator but the car continued its
deceleration. “Oh, no... Not now!” The car had been acting up over
the last few weeks, starting and stopping in fits. At the moment,
it was a complication she didn’t need.

Darting a glance to the rearview
mirror, Casey checked for oncoming cars. No one was behind her.
Ahead of her the slow-poke station wagon put distance between them.
She jammed a boot to the gas pedal. No response. Casey scanned the
roadside for an area to pull off. Trees, ditches, mailbox, there
was no space large enough for her car. “Dang it!”

Wheels continuing to slow,
the car rolled ahead like a lead balloon. Tugging at the sluggish
steering wheel, Casey’s glance raced across the dashboard. Red
arrows indicated engine temperature, oil pressure, battery
strength, gas level.
Gas
level
. Her spirits crashed.

The tank was empty! Casey aimed for the
nearest driveway, praying her car would make it. How could she run
out of gas? How could she have missed it? But missed it she had,
the car coasting past a ditch before settling safely on a gravelly
driveway. Hopefully no one would be coming out any time soon
because she was completely blocking their way.

Not like she could do anything about
it. At a complete standstill, she watched in dismay as the tail
lights of the station wagon disappeared around a wooded corner.
Grabbing her purse, Casey pushed out of her car with an angry
shove. No car trouble was going to stop her from getting to Troy.
She’d darn well walk if she had to. Crawl if it came to it. Nothing
was going to keep her from seeing her man.

Tossing the door closed, she stood,
peering up the road. Trees leaned over the street, branches
hovering in a green canopy of shade. It couldn’t be that far. This
was the last turn before the Sweeney property. But as she walked,
her spirits dipped when she registered where she was. She wasn’t on
the curve she’d originally thought. Taking in her surroundings, the
lack of driveways, the scarcity of flowered dogwoods, Casey
realized she was a mile or so farther away.

Her heart fell. She couldn’t walk that
far!

She’d have to get a ride. She’d call
her aunt, her mother—she’d call Troy! Someone would give her a
ride. Pulling the phone from her purse, Casey sagged as she looked
at the tiny screen. No signal. There was no signal in this stretch
of the mountains! Slinging a glance in both directions, Casey
wanted to cry. Living in the mountains meant intermittent signal.
No signal. No car. She was left with nothing but empty
road.

No one coming. No one going. Nothing
but pavement.

Shaking it off, Casey
continued toward Ladd Springs. Eventually someone would drive by.
This area was rural but it wasn’t desolated. Five o’clock in the
evening there’d be
someone
driving home from work. Granted talking to
strangers wasn’t a great idea, but no one would mess with a
pregnant woman. That would be plain sick.

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Jack Foster placed a pair of folded
jeans on top of his suitcase, then closed the lid, pulling the
zipper closed. There hadn’t been a whole lot to pack. He’d only
intended to stay through the holidays until his mother convinced
him to stay indefinitely. He had no job waiting for him, no family.
Why not stay on at the ranch until he figured out his next step?
When Daddy didn’t object, the matter was settled. Like she said,
Jack had nowhere else to go.

So he stayed here, in the guest room.
It used to be Clint’s room, but all hints of masculinity had been
wiped clean, replaced by an immaculate antique desk and four-poster
bed, the mattress covered by a patterned quilt and stylish throw
pillows. Jack’s room had been remodeled into a suite for Thelma.
Now that she was getting on in age, the housekeeper stayed over on
the nights she worked late, as opposed to driving home.


You don’t have to leave,”
his mother said. Appearing in the doorway, she fixed an unsteady
gaze on him. Dressed in an ivory silk blouse and linen slacks, her
hair pulled back into a twist, she wore a complete face of makeup
and diamond jewelry as if she were headed out for a night on the
town, though he knew she wasn’t going anywhere this evening.
Victoria Foster always dressed to the hilt because one never knew
what a day held in store.

Jack smiled at her logic. “I don’t want
to cause you and Daddy any more harm than my being here already
has.”


This is your home. You
shouldn’t be run out of here like a scalawag.”

Jack chuckled at the
old-fashioned term. His mother was so proper, so prim. Initially
her adamant defense had surprised him. He hadn’t looked forward to
revealing the incident involving Delaney for fear his mother would
kick him out. After the fiasco with Felicity, her sterling image of
him was steadily coming under fire. Another smear and Jack had
thought she’d show him the door. But to his astonishment, she had
done nothing of the kind. Instead, she came to him, wrapped her
arms around him and hugged him.
We’ll get
through this together. Those Ladds will pay for what they’ve
done
.

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