Whispers (Argent Springs) (7 page)

“In case you haven’t realized, I care a great deal
about your aunt, and I don’t like to see her worried or unhappy. It’s not good
for her heart.” He rounded on his heels and started walking.

She hurried to catch up, her shorter legs needing
to go much faster than his in order to cover the same distance. “What do you
mean, her heart?”

He didn’t answer.

She started to sprint and latched on to his arm to
slow him down. “You can’t say something like that and not answer.”

He stopped again, and this time she did collide
with him, enough so that she’d have fallen if he wouldn’t have caught her. “Tell
me what’s wrong with her, Rick.”

“She made me promise not to mention it.”

“It’s too late,” she said, her voice breathless
from exertion. “You already did.”

A few seconds passed, and she tried to read his
features through the waning light.

“She has a leaky valve.”

Fear struck deep inside her. “What does that
mean?”

“It means she needs to take it easy. Her doctors
are watching it. If it gets bad enough, it could mean surgery.”

She released a fearful breath. “But it won’t kill
her?”

“Not as long as she does what she’s supposed to.”

Gratitude overwhelmed her. “Thank goodness. I
thought for sure you’d tell me she’s dying.”

Rick started walking again, slower this time, and
she fell in beside him. “Would you really care? You don’t even know the woman.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.” A lump clogged
her throat, and she tried to form words that wouldn’t come.

He stayed silent.

“You know what?” she said when she found her
voice. “You’re a real jackass. I don’t need you to approve of
my
relationship with
my
aunt. As far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell.”

Erin sprinted toward the house. She didn’t need
Rick or his asinine opinions of her. Tears blinded her, and she stumbled a few
more times before she made it back to Annabelle’s backyard. She entered through
the kitchen door and found Annabelle sitting in a chair, her face a mask of
relief.

Her aunt stood, grasping the table for support.
“There you are, love.”

Erin tried to wipe her tears without being
noticed, but Annabelle zeroed right in. “Oh my goodness. Are you okay? Did you
get hurt?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. I went for
a walk by the river and totally lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” It weighed
heavy on her that she’d made her sweet aunt worry.

The backdoor opened, cutting off their
conversation, and Rick walked in.

Erin flashed him a hateful look, before turning
back to her aunt. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll be back down to help you
finish dinner.”

“It’s all right. Everything is ready except the
pasta. You wash up, and it should be done when you return.”

Erin headed out of the room and up the stairs
without another glance at Rick. As she reached the top, it seemed as though she
walked through a large cloud of lavender. The scent calmed her frazzled nerves,
and she was grateful for it. She looked around for a bouquet or candle that
might have left the fragrance and decided Aunt Annabelle must be leaving her
scent all over the house.

She returned ten minutes later feeling much
better. She’d washed her face and hands and pulled her hair back into a
ponytail. For Annabelle’s sake, she’d make polite conversation at dinner with
Rick if necessary, but even that would be limited. As much as she wanted to
please Aunt Annabelle, she couldn’t be expected to engage in lively
conversation with the jerk.

She couldn’t understand why he disliked her so
much. Annabelle obviously enjoyed having her there, and he professed to love
Annabelle. So why did he seem in such a hurry to get rid of her?

To Erin’s surprise, she would be the only one
dining with her aunt that night. She wouldn’t ask where he’d gone, but she did
send up a quick prayer of thanks that he’d made an exit.

She and Annabelle took turns with the bowl of
spaghetti and fragrant marinara sauce. Erin passed the basket filled with
rolls—far too many for only two people, and Annabelle forked broccoli on her
plate before handing the steaming dish to Erin.

Erin twirled her fork in the mound of noodles,
trying to get a decent amount of pasta without taking too much.

“Rick’s sorry he couldn’t stay for dinner. He said
to give you his apologies.”

She set her fork on her plate, the pasta still
tangled in the tines. “Did he really say that, or are you making apologies for
him?”

A blush fell over her cheeks, and her dear aunt
wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Why on earth would you ask such a thing?”

“Because I know he didn’t. He made it pretty clear
out there that he doesn’t care for my company.”

Annabelle put a hand to her throat, looking more
than a little stressed, and Erin immediately regretted her reply.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“What did he say to you?” Her eyes appeared larger
than normal behind her glasses.

“He was angry with me for making you worry.” She
took her aunt’s hand and looked into her eyes. “And for that, I’m truly sorry.
I was focused on shooting photos and didn’t realize the time. It was a selfish
thing to do.”

“Oh, love. Don’t worry about me. I can’t help it
if I care about you, and I learned a long time ago, if you love someone, you’ll
spend a certain amount of time worrying about them, too. It goes hand in hand.”

“Maybe so, but I acted irresponsibly taking off
like that.”

Annabelle shook her head. “That’s exactly what I’m
trying
not
to teach you. If you spend your whole life walking on the
sidewalk and never step out of bounds, the things you’ll see and learn about will
be very limited. Yes, life can be a dangerous, scary place, but it’s also full
of beauty and wonder. You need to explore. You need to live it.”

Erin gave her a gentle smile. She was learning to
do just that, but she’d also learned to not worry the ones she loved. “Fine.”

“Promise me.” A fierceness landed in her gaze.
“Promise me you’ll get out there and muck it up. Get dirty, wash off, and then
get dirty again. It’s the only way to live.”

Her aunt’s analogies coaxed a laugh from her.
“Okay, fine. I promise.”

“Good girl.” She patted her hand and picked up her
fork. “Now, I just need to get Rick to see reason.”

She sighed, wishing they could get beyond the
subject of Rick.

“He’s not so bad.”

Erin shrugged. She’d prefer it if they didn’t
discuss him at all.

“He’s had a hard lot in life. His daddy died in
the mines when he was a young man, and his momma drank away her days, leaving
him to raise his little brother. One night, his momma was coming home and drove
off a cliff, sending her and his brother to heaven with his daddy. Some say
Rick found a suicide note. Others say it was an accident.”

Erin was part way through swallowing a bite of
spaghetti when it turned to a thick lump in her throat. She lifted her wine
glass, letting the liquid ease the way. She cleared her throat, not wanting to
hear Rick’s story. Not wanting to find a reason to excuse his rotten behavior.
“That’s an awful way to grow up.”

“It is. As much as your parents suck, at least
they were on the scene. At least you had a home.”

“How old was Rick when his mother died?”

“Sixteen. He’s been on his own for a long time.
Back then, he had several jobs. He worked for the owner of the local garage,
learning what he could about fixing cars. In the winters, he worked on the ski
slopes, too, and in the summers he did odd jobs like digging graves in the
cemetery and cleaning stalls down at Harold’s barn. Anything he could do to
make extra money. Life’s been hard on him, but he’s strong. I admire the man
more than I can say. I just wish I could see him happy. I wish he’d give up on
that worthless woman and move on.”

Erin choked down another bite. “Everyone has the
right to be happy.” And here she’d invaded his home, made the woman that he
probably looked up to as a mother worry which may have put her health at risk.
No wonder he was so cantankerous with her. That first day when she’d arrived
and thought he was rude was probably him worrying about Aunt Annabelle.

That was a stringy, tough bit of knowledge to
swallow. “I think I owe him an apology.”

“Whatever for, love?”

“For making his life more difficult, as if he
hadn’t already had enough hard knocks.”

“Ah honey, he’s a tough man. A little girl like
you won’t break him.”

True. He’d actually have to care for her to have
any serious effect on him. The most she could do would be to irritate him.

She should be glad that was the extent of her
capability. She didn’t want any more responsibility for another person than
that. Except for her Aunt Annabelle.

She was worth caring about.

“I’m sorry if I ran him off from dinner. I’ll
apologize to him in the morning.”

Annabelle smiled. “It’s all right, love. I’m sure
he’s completely forgotten about it by now.”

She was pretty sure of that as well.

*       
*        *

Rick hadn’t returned home by the time Annabelle had
called it a night. Erin stayed in the atrium reading for a while, but a
restlessness had infiltrated her spirit and wouldn’t be ignored. In the end,
she decided a walk in the brisk evening air might be exactly what she needed to
calm her so she’d be able to sleep later.

With her walking shoes and a warm coat, she
stepped out of the house and headed toward Main Street. The streets were
well-lit, and there were several other people out and about, too.

She hadn’t walked far when she came upon Krog’s
and paused in front of the doorway. She wasn’t comfortable going into social
places alone and normally would have by-passed the tavern, but something urged
her to step out of her shell and go inside. Argent Springs had a charm that
spoke to her soul, and she wanted to absorb as much of it as possible before
she went home.

A warm blast of air and music from a live band
greeted her. Most of the tables were full of guests laughing and drinking, and
it had an overall welcoming feeling. She made her way between the tables,
searching for an out-of-the-way place to sit. The second she caught sight of
Rick sitting with a group of guys, she headed in the opposite direction, hoping
to avoid him. Unfortunately, it appeared the only space available on the other
side of the tavern was one empty stool at the bar.

She slid onto the seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable
with so little space between her and the white-bearded man next to her.

“What can I get you?” asked a stout woman with
graying hair and one of her bottom front teeth missing.

“Umm…a beer?”

“We’re a micro-brewery with twelve kinds of beer.”
Her expression and tone oozed with impatience.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, and the idea of so
many options intimidated her. “Do you have a menu?”

The woman raised her brows, giving her a visual
“are you kidding me”?

She’d obviously made a poor choice in choosing
this place to visit on her own. “Just something light then. I don’t enjoy dark
beer.”

“Give her a golden ale, Penny,” said the older man
sitting next to her. Erin glanced at him before nodding in agreement.

Penny rolled her eyes at him, looking as though
he’d stolen all of her fun.

“Thanks for the save,” Erin said as he drained the
last of his drink.

“No problem. She can be a bit of a beast
sometimes.” He tipped his head toward her before he slid from his stool. “Have
a nice evening.”

Erin frowned as her newfound friend deserted her
before she had a chance to introduce herself.

Penny returned, sloshing her beer as she set it
before her. “Ten dollars.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “For a beer?” The
most she’d ever paid had been six.

The bartender narrowed her light blue eyes. “It’s
a
special
brew.”

Erin wasn’t sure what she’d done to make the woman
not like her, but it was very apparent she didn’t. But Erin had ordered the
drink, and she couldn’t very well argue the price at this point. She stuck her
hand in her pocket and pulled out the twenty she’d stuffed in there earlier in
the day when she’d been out with Annabelle.

Penny took it with a grin and headed to the cash
register. When she returned, she laid a five dollar bill along with five ones
on the bar in front of her. The woman obviously wanted a tip.

She’d really like to tell the bartender to shove
it up her ass, but she wanted to feel part of this town and not create any bad
vibes. She took everything but two dollars and passed them back to Penny.
“Thanks.”

The woman snatched the bills and walked away, no
doubt with a huge smile on her face.

Erin took a sip. The mellow flavor was pretty
good, but certainly not twelve-dollars good.

A good ten minutes later, she’d finished most of
her beer and had relaxed enough after her run-in with Penny to enjoy the band.
They played an eclectic mix of music including some old country songs along with
new pop favorites. She lifted her glass for another drink when someone bumped
her shoulder causing her to nearly choke on her drink.

“You’re in my seat,” said a rough female voice
from behind.

Erin glanced over her shoulder. A woman looking an
awful lot like she could be Penny’s twin glared back at her.

“Excuse me.”

“You’re in my seat.” The woman was big enough she
could probably carry an ox on her back.

She thought about arguing with her, but at this
point, it seemed best to move out of the ox’s way. “I beg your pardon,” she
said with the snarkiest tone she could muster as she moved over one seat.

The moment the woman sat down, Penny was back,
hauling a frothy, dark beer with her. “Your usual, Gert.”

Erin watched from the corner of her eye as Gert
placed a five dollar bill on the counter. Penny grabbed it and was about to
walk away when the rude injustice of it all combined with the higher-point
alcohol coursing through her veins prodded Erin to speak up. “You just charged
me double that.”

Penny swiveled around, enjoyment beaming on her
face. “Gert gets the local’s discount.” She walked away.

And Erin was obviously not a local. She leaned
forward on the bar, calling to Penny. “That’s terrible. If you charge tourists
double, do you really think they’ll come back?”

Penny turned and met her gaze, slowly making her
way back to Erin. She stopped, standing close enough that she was only inches
from Erin’s face. “I could care less if they do,” she whispered.

Erin sat back on her seat, knowing the woman could
probably take her out with one meaty fist. As she did, her elbow came in
contact with something solid. Glass hit the bar, and Erin jerked around in time
to see dark ale pour all over Gert’s lap.

“Bitch.” The woman’s voice was vicious and scarier
than Erin would like to admit. “You did that on purpose.”

“Oh my god. No. I’m so sorry.” She turned to Penny.
“Do you have a rag?”

Penny stood at the ready and tossed a bar towel,
hitting Erin in the chest. Erin took it and handed it to Gert.

“You owe me a beer,” Gert said through gritted
teeth.

“Of course. I’m so sorry.” Here she’d been trying
to get to know the town, and all she’d done was make enemies. She turned to Penny.
“I’ll buy her another.”

Penny stepped away for a few minutes before she
came back with an identical glass of dark ale. “Ten dollars.”

“
What
?” Erin couldn’t believe her ears.
Heat flamed on her cheeks, and she wished she wasn’t slightly impaired by her
drink so that she could deal with the situation with a clear head. “Her drink
cost five dollars.”