скачать книгу бесплатно
CALEB BIT BACK the urge to ask Grace to leave.
It wasn’t in his nature to open up to people he didn’t know well. Or to anyone, really, other than to his mother.
Grace Huber seemed to be a kind woman, concerned about his daughter. The ring of truth was in her words and her expression was sincere. She said she didn’t want to see Angela arrested. What did she want? Apparently something or she wouldn’t be here. No doubt, the truth to start.
It nearly choked him, but he said, “I think the girl behind bars in the mural was Angela, and the woman she couldn’t reach was her mother.”
Grace’s eyebrows rose. “So her mother’s not here. A recent divorce?”
He shook his head. “Never married. Lily ran off after Angela was born.”
“Oh.” Distress shadowed Grace’s expression, but she recovered quickly. “Then your explanation of the mural makes total sense.”
“Why now, though?” Caleb still couldn’t fathom it.
Had someone been talking to Angela about her mother? Lily’s parents had moved to a warmer climate after she’d disappeared. And there were no other relatives in the area. So who?
He said, “She’s rarely asked about her mother in all these years.”
“But now she’s fifteen. A fifteen-year-old girl needs a mother.”
Hearing a catch in Grace’s voice, Caleb started. She didn’t even know his daughter. “That’s something I can’t do for her. I’ve never heard from her mother since she ran off. I have no idea where to find her. And I can’t even make Angela realize what she did at Green Meadows was wrong.”
“I guess all you can do is keep trying. Talk to her. Support her.”
“Exactly what I’ve been doing all these years!” He hadn’t meant to show his irritation, and he could see his flare of anger threw Grace off. “Hey, sorry. I’m just at my wits’ end with all these changes in Angela.”
“Obviously this is a more difficult time in your daughter’s life than you’ve experienced before.”
Which was true, Caleb thought. Calmer now, he said, “Hopefully my mother can get through to her. She has more influence with Angela than I do these days.” He took a slug of his tea, but it tasted sour going down. “Whatever it cost to remove the mural, I’m good for it. Just let me know how much.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I pay my own way.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” He toyed with his glass, spinning it halfway around on the island. They were done here, but for some reason, he didn’t want Grace to leave yet. Didn’t want to be alone to torture himself with what-ifs about his daughter. So, he said, “I want you to know I admire the work you’re doing at Green Meadows.”
“Thank you. It’s been a challenge, but very rewarding.”
“How did you get interested in green living?”
“I’ve always enjoyed the outdoors. Hiking. Biking. Boating.” Things her father didn’t care about and didn’t like her doing. “So I started looking for ways to help keep the planet healthy. Recycling. Composting. Adding little things to make my place earth-friendly.”
“Sounds like a great start. Not everyone is open to change.” Another thing to appreciate about her.
“Until now, our company built single-family homes and moderate-sized apartment buildings. Then Dad got this idea to create a whole development in an area that had open spaces but was still commuter distance from cities like Kenosha and Milwaukee. A place where people could live while they worked and then could retire in comfort. He’s been thinking about that a lot lately—retiring.”
Caleb realized her tone shifted on that last thought, as if it bothered her. “And he wanted it to be a green community?”
She shook her head. “That was my doing. I’d been reading about ways to build green, and I got on board. Not everyone in Sparrow Lake seems to be in love with the idea of the new development, but I think most people are coming around.”
“I was eager to see what would happen when I heard about the proposal. I teach environmental studies at the community college.”
“Really. Oh, I love it! I should take one of your classes.”
Her sudden enthusiasm made him smile. “We’re two-thirds of the way through spring semester now, but you can sign up for a course this summer. They start at the beginning of June. Well, if you’ll still be here then.”
“I will be here, at least until fall, so I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “We’re just completing a half-dozen town houses. And starting the landscaping with an environmental company. The woman in charge lives in Sparrow Lake. Maybe you know her. Heather Scofield.”
“I do. I mean, I don’t know Heather well, but she took a couple of my classes, and we’ve talked a bit at some regional environmental meetings.”
“Have you taken a personal look at Green Meadows?” Grace asked. “I mean, other than this morning.”
“No, haven’t had the opportunity.”
“Let me know when you have some time available. I’d be happy to give you the grand tour.”
“Thanks. Real nice of you.” He noticed her glass was empty. “Can I refill that?”
“Thanks, but no. I should get going.” She slid off her chair. “I need to get to the office.”
Caleb rose and walked her to the door. “Thanks for bringing Angela’s supplies. And for taking care of the cleanup. And most of all, for being concerned about my daughter.”
“No problem. If there’s anything I can do to help...”
“...I’ll let you know.”
She left. Caleb remained at the window and watched as she got into her car and drove away.
An interesting and compassionate woman.
One he hoped to see again.
Soon.
* * *
GRACE LEFT THE Blackthorne property but couldn’t get thoughts of Caleb out of her mind. He intrigued her. He seemed to be a strong man, one who would do anything to protect his daughter. Not unlike what her father had done for her when she was a teenager.
Despite the fact that it was a Saturday, she headed for the office, admiring an open field full of dandelions as she passed. She bet that the country roads around here sported wildflowers and all kinds of new growth. Birds would be making nests. She only wished she had time to drive around and look. The weekdays were so busy. There was always so much to catch up on.
They’d rented a storefront with offices for both her and her father in Sparrow Lake proper, directly on Main Street. She passed Nellie’s Treasures and a little farther down, Sew Fine, the quilting shop. The Walworth Builders satellite office was on the next block, directly across from The Busy Corner, which served a great breakfast and a decent lunch. After parking in a reserved space behind her office building, she entered, wondering if her father had heard about that morning’s excitement at the development.
“Morning, Carol,” she said.
“Grace, there you are, thank goodness.”
The receptionist wore a worried smile. Then again, Carol worried about everything and everyone, said it was the result of having raised five kids. Blamed them for the gray in her hair, though she was barely forty.
“Is something wrong?” Grace tried to keep tension from her voice, but Carol’s brows were knit together.
“Mr. Huber wants to see you,” she said in something just above a whisper. “He told me to send you in the moment you arrived.”
Oh, great. Wearing a forced smile, she entered her father’s office. Sitting behind a massive desk loaded with paper files, Henry Huber appeared every bit the successful businessman he was. His stocky build was minimized by tailor-made suits, which he wore even when visiting the construction site, and his dark hair laced with silver was professionally trimmed every other week.
“Hey, Dad, I heard you wanted to see me.”
He glared at her and looked as if he was ready to pop a cork. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve had people calling me the past couple of hours to complain.”
Uh-oh, he knew about the mural. Grace tried to divert him by asking, “You mean they’re bothering you about the ghost sighting? I talked to Nellie Martin. She really didn’t see anything other than some faint movement through the trees, maybe fog, but people are convinced the land is haunted.”
“Ignore them.” He carefully arranged a stack of paper in one of the trays on his desk. “I did hear a rumor about a murder...or similar in that old farmhouse we tore down. Whitman. That was the name of the old couple that lived there.”
“A murder?”
“Something that happened back nearly a century ago. Nobody could offer any proof, though. Probably just gossip.”
“A hundred years ago, huh?” Grace felt a bit relieved. “Yes, probably gossip.” People in small towns loved to talk.
“Whatever. It’s not important. What is important is taking care of our project now. I heard how well you did that this morning. Residents are complaining that you wouldn’t call the authorities and have those girls who defaced the property arrested.”
She should have known better. When her father had something he wanted to say, it was like a mission to him. “I did speak with the artist’s father—”
“Artist? You mean vandal!”
“She’s a kid, Dad. Her mother ran off and left her, and she’s upset about that. You remember what that was like, don’t you? You would have totally gotten it if you had seen the mural she painted.”
Her father’s mouth tightened.
She went on. “Caleb Blackthorne has taken this very seriously. He’s about out of his mind with worry for his daughter. I think he was terrified that I would have her arrested.”
Her father’s visage changed. He looked a little haunted himself. She knew he remembered the trouble she’d gotten herself in. It was a time in their lives that neither of them would ever be able to forget.
“Dad?”
“All right, all right! As long as they stay off the Green Meadows grounds.”
Grace was certain Caleb would do what he could to make sure Angela stayed in line. But she didn’t know about the other girl, Kiki. Still, she said, “They will,” with more certainty than she actually felt.
“Good. Then concentrate on the job. On what’s important, so you can slide behind my desk when I retire next year.”
Grace’s throat tightened. “You’re not going to retire, Dad. You would be too bored.” And thinking about whether he would retire or not was making him uptight.
“I want the pleasure of seeing what I’ve built become an enduring legacy for my family.”
“I understand you do.” Though Grace was not happy with the future he expected of her, she never could tell him that. “Now, I’ve got work waiting for me.”
While she enjoyed the public part of her job—dealing with people—she wasn’t so crazy about the executive part of it, particularly the never-ending meetings and financial planning for the future. The endless paperwork made her crazy, and she would do anything to avoid it. She wanted to expand her knowledge and get more personally involved in the green community, an idea that Dad continually criticized, making her keep her wishes to herself and resent him for it.
Her father waved her away, and she traded his office for her own, where she pulled out the proposal Heather had drawn up for the landscaping. Though she looked it over, she couldn’t focus. She kept glancing out the window, watching sparrows play tag as she thought about her future.
About her father telling her she was born to be his right hand, that her purpose in life was to run Walworth Builders when he was done serving his time.
She knew that position would have gone to her twin brother, if Michael had lived past thirteen. His death in a tragic boating accident drove her parents apart, and her mother had divorced her father and abandoned her when she’d moved to Minneapolis. She and her father had been left to go it on their own. That’s when she’d started acting out, getting herself into trouble. Like Angela, she’d been a handful, but her father had both protected her and put her back on the straight and narrow. And so, grateful, she felt very protective of the man who’d lost so much in life.
If only he wasn’t so demanding and grumpy. If only he didn’t tell her what she needed to do and how to do it. Her father really would retire one of these days. He expected her to take over as CEO at Walworth and, though it was the last thing she wanted, Grace knew she would do as he wished. Reaching up to close the blinds, she forced herself to stare at the papers in front of her.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_99571f46-ee42-546b-8775-bd5f1c6772c8)
“AREN’T YOU AFRAID your dad’s gonna kill you?” Kiki asked Angela on Monday morning, halfway through building a semitraditional sweat lodge a hundred yards from the house.
Angela glanced at her friend, who was decked out in her usual black clothes and makeup, but with new purple extensions flowing from her hair. “Dad grounded me, he said I had to stay home, but he didn’t say I had to stay inside.” It was her spring break, after all. The community college had been off the week before, so Dad was at work and she was theoretically alone. He’d probably have a cow if he knew Kiki was here. “Besides, he’ll have to see I’m doing something worthwhile.”
Even if her father wasn’t into Chippewa culture the way she was. And even if her true intention was to have a place to get away from him. She could come out here to avoid his lectures about how she needed to be practical, to plan for her future, about how she was always doing things the wrong way—which really meant she wasn’t doing things his way.
“What if he asks why you decided to build a lodge?” Kiki asked.
She wouldn’t tell him the truth. “I’ll say I was inspired the last time I stayed with Gran Maddie. He never argues with his mother about anything. He just can’t know you were here helping me. By the time he comes home from work, we’ll be finished. Too late for him to tell me to forget it.”
Kiki circled the half dome of saplings they’d tied together with twine. “Um, I hate to say it, but it looks a little crooked.”
Sighing, Angela agreed. “It does, but it’s my first try. It’ll have to do for now. Let’s get this stuff up.” She indicated the pile of tarps and blankets she’d collected from the house. “Blankets first. The tarps will keep them from getting wet when it rains.”
“Yeah, if you get to keep it up that long.”
Angela’s chest tightened. Dad had better not make her take her sweat lodge down! She didn’t know what she might do if he did.
They spent the next twenty minutes carefully aligning blankets and securing them to the frame, leaving an opening facing east, but with a flap she could lower for complete darkness. And privacy.
“So what did you do yesterday when Dad dragged me away from the mural?” Angela asked.
“Something fun.”
“What?”
“I got back at them—the creepy Green Meadows residents who wanted us arrested.”
“Kiki, what did you do?”
“I called someone who would be interested in murders and ghosts. Hopefully, he’ll scare them to death!”
Angela rolled her eyes. Wasn’t the mural enough for one day? “Are you sure you should have done that? If anyone finds out, you’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
“So? I’ve been arrested before. No biggie.”
Arrested. Angela shuddered as they began gathering large stones. She knew Kiki had been arrested for shoplifting once and had spent a day behind bars. She didn’t want that fate for herself. She’d hoped they could disappear before someone discovered they were painting a mural on that wall, and when they were caught, she’d really been afraid someone would call the cops.
