Light the Hidden Things (12 page)

Crow watched her gaze changing and knew it was carrying her to a place he couldn’t know. She went on, “You’ll always do your best. Like my Carl. I like to believe my boys are like that, too.” Suddenly challenging, she told him, “You come back, hear? I can’t exactly figure you out, but I like you.”

“It’s mutual. Does that mean I get free coffee?”

She jerked at thumb at the door, laughing out loud. “Hit the road, stranger.”

In the pickup, Crow popped a Faith Hill cd in the player. He lingered, listening to the music and looking at Martha's old-fashioned porch. The twin white pillars were reassuringly substantial; the white railing would be a great perch for a man's feet while he leaned back to watch the world pass by.

He asked Major, “I wonder what it’s like to live in a house like that? It's got a fireplace. You’d eat that up, wouldn’t you? Flaked out, snoozing your life away.”

The dog pawed at his arm, clearly more interested in breakfast. Rolling down Front Street, Crow added, “I bet there’s plenty of room for books. Maybe a whole separate room for tackle. Fly tying...” Words trailed off.

Later, all packed up and driving away from the campsite, Crow stopped at the intersection. One turn took him on to circle the lake and head out beyond. The other took him back toward Lupine. Almost wrenching the wheel, he told Major. “I have to go to Bake’s. I want to thank that lady for a pleasant evening. It’s only polite.” He gave a mock scowl. “Sometimes you scare me. You look like you understood every word.” The dog put on his clown grin.

At the parking lot, Crow stepped down, adjusting his hat. He set out across the broken asphalt. Halfway, he noticed the Cadillac parked next to an old Chevy station wagon. He was certain Lila didn’t own a Cadillac. He spun on his heel.

He hadn’t taken three steps when Lila called to him.

“Crow? I thought you’d be gone. Is anything wrong?” She wore khakis today and a flaming red sweater with a scatter of small yellow flowers. She stepped past the ridiculous hanging screen door with Zasu under one arm. He marveled at how she managed to look grand no matter what she wore. He pushed that aside and said, “I don’t want to interrupt. Just came to say so long, thanks for dinner. Joining me, I mean.” He took a step back and waved.

Lila said, “Don’t rush off,” and hurried down the steps. She was almost to him when the man appeared in the doorway. Lila’s expression told Crow she knew immediately why he was looking past her. Increasing her pace, she closed the gap between them, saying, “I was just talking with Edward Lawton. He’s with the bank, in town.”

“You mentioned Lawton to the Pastor. I don’t have to meet him.”

Lila’s twisted grin reminded him of their dinner table deal. She said, “Oh, but you really should. Why should I have all the fun?” She gestured for Lawton to join them, talking as he came their way. “Edward, this is Carter Crow. Crow, Edward Lawton.” Facing Lawton, she explained, “Crow’s here to say goodbye. He and Pastor Richards had a good day fishing the Fortymile yesterday.”

The men shook hands.

Crow didn’t know Armani from Speedo, but Lawton’s suit proved he did and cared. Crow checked him out; almost as tall as he was, trim, black hair carefully styled. He smiled readily. Flicking dark eyes made Crow wary.

Edward spoke first. “Welcome to Lupine. Pleased to meet you. Call me Edward. Everyone does.”

“I go by Crow.” Crow didn’t feel like smiling and wouldn’t fake it. He shook Edward's offered hand just long enough to be polite and then concentrated on Lila. “Like I said, I just came to say thanks and goodbye.” A movement from Edward picked at the corner of his vision. For no real reason, the man irritated Crow. He felt compelled to take a dig at the prim banker. He told Lila, “You can handle these repairs. Don’t be discouraged. You can do it.”

Edward rose to the bait wonderfully, disagreeing in the voice of a man burdened by the responsibility to correct lesser folk. “As much as I admire you for encouraging her - and her for fighting so hard - Lila has to deal with reality. The money's not there. In fact, I was telling her how to make the best deal for the property. She’ll get enough to live comfortably, if she invests well.”

Lila said, “And I told you I’ll take my chances.”

Edward sighed. “The lottery's chances are better,” and, to Crow, “There’s been an offer. She should take it.”

Lila touched Crow’s forearm. “None of this is your concern. I’m glad you came by, though. I haven’t had such a lovely evening in...” She paused, finished lamely, “...way too long.”

Crow said, “For me, too. Look, I guess all I’m saying is I hope you get whatever makes you happy.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” She grinned when she mimicked the way he said ‘
preciate
.

A surprising twinge of disappointment bit him when her quick mischief faded.

He said, “So long, then.” The walk back to his pickup felt farther than it should, seemed as if he had too much time to think.

It wasn't the people with grandiose schemes who got hurt the most. It was the quiet dreamers who took the hardest hit. When the hope for something as simple as Lila's little store is torn away, the wound was far deeper than ordinary failure. Lost money usually grew back. A broken dream was more likely to just die.

There was the real reason a man didn't get involved.

Keep moving.

He was just getting into the truck when a speeding convertible cut across his front and almost skidded to a stop beside him. The smells of hot metal, petroleum, and sun-baked leather wrapped around Crow. When the driver opened his door and stepped out, Crow noted the man's work clothes were clean but well-worn; heavy boots were scuffed and scarred. There was a hard hat on the passenger seat. None of it fit the image of the sleek BMW 650.

The man was big, solid. Crow estimated him at a good six-foot-three and at least two hundred and twenty-five pounds. He walked toward Crow, planting each foot as if claiming land. He obviously meant to say something, so Crow hipped the door shut, leaned against it, and waited.

The man said, "I'm James Vanderkirk. I've heard about you. You're the fellow with one name."

Their handshake was formality. Crow almost smiled, thinking he was using up a lot of his morning shaking hands with people he didn't much want to meet. He said, "I've got the regulation number of names. Keep one for a spare. You a builder, here to help Ms. Milam?" He nodded toward the hard hat.

The question puzzled Vanderkirk. He looked where Crow indicated, then brightened. "The hat? That's business. I'm a developer, contractor, builder - whatever. No, I'm just here to see Lila. We're old friends."

Territoriality practically oozed. It rankled Crow. The fact that it was the second time he'd let someone get under his skin in practically the same number of minutes was further irritation. It was contradictory to everything he practiced. He warned himself to stay non-committal and get out of there. He said, "Good for you. You're lucky to have a friend like her, Mr. Vanderkirk."

"Van. Call me Van. Yeah, I know exactly how lucky I am. I hear you had dinner with her."

Crow had spent his life in a very masculine society. He understood confrontation when he saw it. Again, he told himself to just shut up and move on.

He couldn't. If Lila hadn't been open enough to mention she was in a relationship, that wasn't playing fair. Not that it was any of his business. Still. it was wrong for someone to talk about her like she was a sack of groceries. Crow said, "We shared a table. Two consenting adults, you know? And my social calendar's not up for discussion. Does anyone around here talk about anything except other folks? I mean, the world economy's in the tank and we've got our first black president; anybody around here ever remarked on that?"

A muscle in Van's jaw bulged. "It's a neighborly community. We know each other, watch out for each other."

Crow nodded slowly, matching Van's gaze the while. He said, "I was just talking to a banker - the guy coming this way with Ms. Milam. He says she's going under. How do you suppose she missed out on being watched out for?"

"If you listened to Edward, you know she just doesn't have the money to get the job done."

Lila's shout interrupted. "Hi, Van."

Both men looked her way. Van smiled and waved. Crow took a step past Van and laid his hand on the car's hood. "A 650 Beamer convertible's upstream of 90 thousand. Half of that would buy everything she needs. The other half'd buy a cheaper Beamer."

Lila and Edward were almost on them. Out of the side of his mouth, Van said, "Who asked you? Mind your own business."

Crow faced Lila, now next to him, and said, "Just getting acquainted with Mr. Vanderkirk, here. Thanks again for the company." He brushed past her and opened the truck door. Major immediately stuck his head out.

"Good God," Edward said, and scrambled to the other side of Van's car.

Laughing, turning a teasing smile on Crow, Lila said, "Please; he's a very sensitive dog."

Van said, "There's a law against animals like that. "

Before Crow could say anything, Edward interrupted. "Not here, unfortunately. Too many hicks."

Crow looked off in the distance and thought of how close he'd come to believing he could stop running.

No. Not getting mixed up with people like this isn't running away. It's just good sense.

The worst was that the woman lied to him. Not directly, but just as bad. All that talk about opening up to someone - just a play for sympathy. She was afraid to talk about her messed up relationship so she came at it sideways with all that stuff about childhood memories. Sad songs to hold the audience. If she'd told the truth, that she was involved with a jerk and didn't know what to do about it, anyone would bail out on the spot.

The woman lied, but she thought she had a good reason for it. The man's a bully. He needed teaching.

Stay out of it. Remember the last time you let go. Leave now.

"Crow?" Lila's voice broke in. She was looking at him quizzically. She added, "Van asked you a question."

Crow turned away. A hand gesture sent Major to his own seat and Crow joined him. Speaking to Van, ignoring Lila, he said, "I didn't hear your question because I quit listening. My dog's no pit dog. He's not handsome but his heart is. Most people will lie to you about what's in their heart. No dog will."

Van sneered openly. "Words to live by."

Lila glared, raised her chin. "It's true," she said. "He's right about Major, too. Anyone can see."

From the distant side of the convertible, Edward pitched in. "That's a dangerous animal. That's what I see."

Van half-turned, laughed at him. "Relax. They're leaving." As he swiveled back toward Crow, his vision swept Lila and he stopped abruptly, his expression changing as he saw the way she looked at Crow. Continuing his move, his smile for Crow carried threat. "The dog thing's not important. You'll probably never be back this way, so I hope you'll remember the dinner and conversation with Lila and forget the disagreement. You and I sort of got off on the wrong foot." The aura of possession cloaked him.

Crow caught himself hoping Lila wouldn't look up at Van with an expression that verified that possession. She didn't. She raised a hand, barely waist high, to wave goodbye.

Crow forced himself to concentrate on Van. Doing so brought back the earlier bitter, burning taste at the back of his throat. He said, "You and me - we don't have a right foot. No problem. Like you said, we're leaving."

He eased the rig into motion. Once it was underway, however, he kept his foot on the gas. The turn onto the road was dramatic. The trailer lurched. Wrestling the wheel, Crow held everything together and sped on. A look in the side mirror showed Van moving toward his car and a waiting Edward. Lila stood by herself, the bright sweater suddenly completely appropriate to a sun-washed day. One arm raised high and waved. Crow thought of reeds, slender, supple, deceptive in their survivability.

Then the road curved, hiding the past, opening a flawless present.

Crow settled down to careful driving after that first curve. Some fool was always impatient to pass the rig, and they'd take chances. Crow was convinced a full third of the drivers out there were suicidal and another third believed they were immortal.

Today he didn't care if the suicides had their way and the supposed immortals discovered their error.

Sure, Lila sort of gave the impression she might be sorry he was leaving.

There were more memories than their time together should have provided.

The way she sprinted out of that ramshackle building to protect fluffy, yappy Zasu. Scared to death of Major, but not slowing down a step.

Sitting beside her in the park. When a man could just quietly be with a woman and feel that contentment...

The way she looked at his last sight of her - neat khakis and that bright red sweater. Not like his first look.
Ragamuffin.
That’s what he’d called her. And she didn't get huffy, didn't give him that female's sideways beanball look. Probably never realized she was every bit as attractive then as she’d been when she dressed up for dinner at Martha’s.

Like Patricia. Change her appearance at will, and each one only accentuated a different facet of her limitless self. Yet always Patricia.