Coal Black Blues (4 page)

“Carrie.” He said her name just once, but his serious tone made her think something had gone wrong.

“What is it?” she asked, opening her eyes wide.

“I’ve never laid eyes on the man, but take a look at the Jaguar that just pulled up out front,” Neil said. His voice sounded strained. “Sure looks like a hot shit Washington DC attorney to me. Is it who I think it is?”

Please don’t let it be Dylan.
Caroline glanced through the window and winced because it was. Her former husband emerged from his fancy sports car wearing an Armani suit and Ray Bans. The dark sunglasses hid his eyes but she could see his lips were set in a hard, tight line.

“Yes, devil damn him.”

The old-fashioned phrase slipped between her lips before she had time to think, but Neil responded with a quick snort of laughter. He came around the counter to stand beside Caroline as they watched Dylan Carrington walk toward the front door, his mouth pulled down in a frown.

He pushed when he should have pulled on entry and his frustration at the mistake was evident in his hunched shoulders. Once inside, he turned toward the counter with a smirk.

“Carrie’s Corner? How folksy and quaint,” he said in his bored Virginia drawl. “It would appear you’ve gone native, my dear Caro. So this is it, the place you fled after abandoning both me and our marriage. I had trouble finding it. This is more rural than I expected, far more off the beaten path. I expected to hear banjoes as soon as I left the interstate.”

“Why are you here?” Caroline heard the edge in her voice, sharper than she intended, but there. “What do you want?”

Dylan smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression, more grimace than grin. “I thought I’d pay a visit to see how you fared. I never expected instant hostility, though. Is hillbilly life harder than you remembered?”

Caroline’s stomach clenched tight enough to hurt. She said nothing, unwilling to provide further ammunition for her ex-husband’s unwarranted attack. Beside her, Neil shifted position and put a comforting arm across her shoulders.

“Unless you have a damn good reason for coming up here to attack her, I suggest you get back in your sports car and head back where you belong.” Neil spoke in a quiet tone, laced with menace.

“Call off security,” Dylan said with a sneer. “Caro, please. I want to speak to you privately.”

Bolstered by Neil’s presence, she found her voice. “There’s nothing to discuss. Our marriage is over and we have nothing else in common.”

“I think perhaps we do. Isn’t there an office or somewhere we can talk?”

She imagined Dylan squeezing into her tiny space, wedged between the Formica-topped table that served as a desk and the rusted file cabinet. “There is, but if you have something to say, you can say it now, in front of Neil, or leave.”

“So he has a name,” Dylan said with scorn. “I don’t think your backwoods lover needs to hear our personal business, Caro. I will say, however, you certainly didn’t waste any time.”

Neil’s arm cradled her closer.

“Neil is my friend,” Caroline said. “I’ve known him since I was five. We share a history you could never understand. Speak your piece or get out.”

Dylan, the man she once thought she loved enough to spend the rest of her life with, laughed. He mimicked her words, and adopted a very poor Appalachian twang. “Speak yer piece, you say? Git out? Darling, this is marvelous. You should take this comedy routine on the road.”

Neil’s hand quivered and she thought he had contained his anger almost as long as he could. He had a temper, she recalled, one that could erupt from quiet calm into violence with little warning. Anger burned within her chest as well, but Caroline did her best to contain it.

“You have ten seconds to say whatever you came to tell me and to get out of here. If you don’t leave, I won’t be responsible for what could happen.”

The store had fallen silent, the few customers paused, but as she spoke, the other miners in the store moved to the front. Caroline recognized the coal engrained in their hands and skin, the coal tattoo that marked them from other men. Like Neil, most wore overalls or worn blue jeans. They stood behind Dylan, silent sentinels prepared to provide backup if needed. Her heart soared to receive their support although she knew they did it more for Neil than for her. She let a small smile flirt with her lips and gave them a nod of acknowledgement.

Dylan stared and craned his head around. When he saw the waiting silent men, he cringed and his smug expression shifted. His face paled and he drew in a hard breath.

“I came to tell you I’m selling the house and moving to an apartment in DC,” he said. “I’m seeing a fellow attorney and there’s nothing left for me in Fairfax. I can’t be bothered with the upkeep of a house or lawns now. I realize you stated in the divorce settlement that I could have the house, along with the mortgage, but I’ll need your signature on some paperwork to make it legal. Without it, I won’t be able to lease or sell the place, so if we could adjourn to your office, I can get your signature and leave.”

She thought of the Colonial-style house built from brick and wood nestled among tall trees. Her taste of gracious living had convinced her she wasn’t geared for the lifestyle. Although she’d enjoyed the sizeable family room with the fireplace and French doors opening onto a spacious deck, it had been a house, not a home no matter how hard she tried to make it one. “All right, but I’ll sign right here. I have customers waiting.”

Neil stepped back as she searched for a ballpoint pen to sign, but when she reached for the sheaf of papers Dylan provided within a folder, he put his hand on it. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Before she signs, how much is the house worth?”

“Neil, don’t,” Caroline said but he ignored her.

“I’d guess six figures,” Neil continued. “We’re not all ignorant down here, Carrington, and since I imagine you’ll end up with a sizeable amount, I think Caroline should have something for her trouble. What’s it appraised at, lawyer?”

Dylan’s face flushed crimson. “Six hundred and fifty thousand,” he replied. “But there’s a mortgage and…”

“And I reckon you can afford fifty grand for her to sign away all her other rights. She may have opted to give it up, but I bet I can find an attorney who could get her a hell of a lot more money.”

Divided between delight and an odd bashful embarrassment, Caroline grabbed Neil’s hand. He ignored her, his blue eyes intent on Dylan’s face. “Well?” he asked.

“I, uh, suppose that could be considered fair,” Dylan said.

“I hope you have your checkbook because she’s not signing until you write the check.”

Dylan reached into his pocket and produced his Armani leather wallet. He eyed the glass-topped counter as if it might be harboring the plague while the miners behind him leaned in for a closer gander. Then he pulled out a sterling silver pen and wrote the check to Caro Carrington with a flourish. He held it with two fingers and Neil took it.

Neil tore it into shreds with his mine-grimed fingers and dropped the pieces in the trash.

“Reckon you forgot she’s Caroline Reaburn again,” he said. His Appalachian accent broadened as he spoke. Caroline loved it and cringed at the same time. “Write another.”

Hands shaking, lips pursed with displeasure, Dylan did. Caroline signed and initialed each spot indicated on the paperwork. She handed back the folder. “There. Are we done?”

“We are
so
done,” Dylan said. “Farewell, Caro.”

Caroline tried to maintain a straight face, but his overdone manners and obvious discomfort amused her. “Good-bye, Dylan,” she said. “As we say around here, don’t let the door hit you on the way out and don’t come back.”

He gaped at her and strutted to the door. The circle of miners stepped back to let him pass. Caroline and everyone else in the store watched as Dylan Carrington scurried to his Jag. He tore out of the lot as if devils were on his tail, and once the car vanished round the curve heading toward the highway, Caroline laughed and laughed.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she said aloud.

Neil opened his arms and she walked into them. He wrapped her in an embrace and she leaned against him, spent, and shed the tears she had held back. She couldn’t explain why she wept, but Neil didn’t ask, simply held her and waited until she calmed enough to wait on customers again.

And in his arms, she realized the truth she had tried to deny—she loved Neil McCullough as much as she ever had.

And wondered just what she would do about it and whether or not he might feel the same way.

Chapter Five

At straight up six o’clock, Caroline announced the store was about to close for the night. She waited until the last few customers paid for their gas and minor purchases. Then she turned the ‘open sign’ around to read ‘closed’. She tossed the keys to Neil and he locked the door, then turned off the outside lights.

He gazed at her and she looked back, her senses open to him and whatever might come next. “You didn’t have to take up for me with Dylan,” she said with the easy way she’d always had with him, able to speak what was on her mind or heart. “But I’m glad you did.”

Neil grinned and his weary face lightened a little. “I can’t believe you were married to that sorry son of a bitch,” he said. “If I’d known what a pitiful little prick he can be, I’d have come up to Virginia and rescued you. You’re better off without him.”

“I am. Are you ready to go home?”

His nod indicated he was. “I’m tired. Are you going to open the store tomorrow?”

“No, I guess I won’t. But I’ll open at five Monday morning.”

“I’ll be heading down into the mine around by six.”

“I’ll miss you being here,” Caroline said and meant it. “You’ve helped me so much.”

“Thanks, honey. I’m glad to do it.”

He grabbed a fresh cold soda from the case and dug in his pocket for change. She waved her hand.

“You don’t need to pay me. I should be paying you, Neil. If there’s anything else you want, take it. You more than earned it.”

“Thanks, but I don’t know what it would be. I’ll probably head home, warm up a can of ravioli, and crash watching a movie.” He paused, then added, “You got any plans?”

His question sounded casual but somehow Caroline suspected it wasn’t. She shrugged her shoulders. “Not really, just something similar to what you’re doing.”

Neil leaned against the counter as if he carried the weight of the world on his back. “If I wasn’t so damn worn out, I’d take you over to Charleston, get some dinner or at least to the next town over and buy you a hamburger or something. I’d even have you over to my house, but I don’t have much except cheap canned goods and a couple cans of root beer.”

“I’ll take a rain check on dinner,” she told him. “I’m exhausted, too. You can come over if you want and I’ll make some biscuits and gravy or throw together a pot of spaghetti.”

He scrubbed one hand over his face. “Biscuits and gravy sounds like manna from heaven if you mean it.”

“Of course I do.”

“You’re in your grandpa’s old house, right?”

“I am. You might have to walk around a couple of boxes. I’m still settling in.”

Neil gave a short hoot. “You wouldn’t want to see my place. I’d have to do some major cleaning before I’d let you or anyone else in the door.”

Curiosity prompted her to ask, “Where do you live? I’ve wondered.”

“I’ve got a rat-trap, old trailer house halfway up Hound Dog Mountain,” he said. “It ain’t much, but it’s a place to eat and sleep.”

Somehow, she doubted he did enough of either, but Caroline knew when to stay quiet.

“Well, let’s go home and I’ll start cooking.”

While she made biscuits from scratch, Neil sat at the dinky table situated under the archway into the front room and the stairs, watching. Sifting flour, measuring salt and baking soda, and cutting shortening into the dry mix came naturally to her. She hadn’t baked many biscuits in recent years, but she learned how in this very kitchen and she hadn’t forgotten. Bulk sausage she’d bought when she picked up a few groceries in town sizzled in the smallest iron skillet. As soon as the patties were done, Caroline removed them and part of the drippings, then made milk gravy in the same pan. As she worked, they talked about the day, but neither mentioned Dylan. She preferred to forget his unpleasant visit and apparently Neil agreed.

The biscuits browned to perfection and she dished them up each a soup bowl with biscuits, two sausage patties, and plenty of gravy. When she headed for the larger table in the combined dining and living room, Neil shook his head. “We can eat right here. I’m not fancy and there’s plenty of room.”

“Okay.”

She savored the taste of the home-style food more than she had expected but Neil ate with apparent relish. He finished his portion and then slapped the remaining sausage cake onto the last biscuit. After he finished the sandwich, he yawned. “Carrie, that’s about the best thing I’ve had to eat in a while. I should get home, though.”

All of a sudden, the last thing Caroline wanted was to be alone in the old house. She craved his company. “Stay a little while,” she said. “I’ll clean up and then we can watch a movie or something. I promise not to keep you too late.”

Neil stretched, his mouth wide with another yawn. “Sure, sounds good.”

He settled into the old recliner in one corner of the front room, and before she finished tidying the kitchen, Caroline heard his soft snores. She smiled, thought about waking him, and decided she wouldn’t. Instead, she put one of her grandmother’s faded patchwork quilts over him and went upstairs to take a long bath. Afterward, relaxed to the point of bonelessness, Caroline checked on him and he remained asleep. She shook her head with a smile, brushed her fingers against his cheek and on impulse bent down to kiss his lips, a fleeting kiss she thought he wouldn’t notice. But, sound asleep, his mouth quirked into a half-smile and he mumbled something that sounded like her name. Moved almost to tears, too tired to deal with any additional emotion, Caroline went to bed.

When she came downstairs in the morning, the smell of coffee permeated the air, but Neil had gone. He’d folded the quilt and left it on the back of the couch. His departure stung, a little, and she poured a cup of coffee, wondering why he had gone without a word and when. She had sleep long and deep. When she reached into the fridge for butter for her toast, she spotted the note, held in place with a magnet. Caroline recognized Neil’s scrawl, unchanged from their teen years.

“Carrie, I’m going home long to enough to clean up and change clothes. If you’re willing, I’ll be back around noon and we’ll go eat barbecue in Charleston. See you then, Neil.”

A smile stretched her lips. “That’s more like it,” she said, aloud.

By twelve o’clock, she waited for him, ready. Deciding what to wear had been a dilemma. Caroline’s wardrobe ranged from the fancier designer garments she’d worn to events as Dylan’s wife to basic jeans, blouses, tees, and flannel shirts. She wanted to dress up beyond every day, but she also didn’t want to overdress for the occasion. Barbecue sounded informal so she chose a pair of black slacks topped with a crimson and black patterned sweater and boots. Her boots weren’t the heeled fashion kind she might have worn in Virginia but well-worn Western style ones that had belonged to her grandmother.
Good thing we wore the same size,
she thought.

October sun slanted through the tree branches and made shadow patterns on the ground. Caroline decided to wait outside for Neil, but although the sun was warm, the wind carried a cooler edge and she was glad she’d chosen a sweater. His vintage Chevy short-bed truck rolled into the yard just before noon and when he saw her, he grinned. When she climbed into the seat beside him, she noticed he wore khaki slacks and a button-down shirt.

“You look pretty,” he said. “Glad I dressed up a little.”

“Me, too,” Caroline said. “Looks good, Neil.”

Because it seemed natural, she slid across the seat to sit beside him. Although he made no comment, she noticed the little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Classic country, the kind they’d both grown up with, poured from the stereo.
After all the places he’s been, all the things he’s experienced, he still likes the old-time music.
Caroline approved because it demonstrated Neil’s deep roots and how he’d come back where he belonged. She had returned with the same thought and hoped in time, she would still feel the same.

She sang along to one of her favorite Hank Williams songs as the truck swept around the curves. A clear brook flowed alongside the road and the hardwoods flamed with full autumn color, branches stretching upward toward the distant sky. Once Neil entered the interstate, the scenery receded, and except for the mountains on either side of the road and the coal tipples beside the railroad tracks in some places, they might have been almost anywhere.

At Charleston, they sailed across the bridge over the Kanawha River into West Virginia’s capital city. Neil turned down the music and said, “I hope you like barbecue.”

“It’s one of my favorites.”

“That’s good. This place we’re heading is one of my favorites with some of the best barbecue I’ve ever had, anywhere. They smoke the meat and make their own sauce. Got some good coleslaw, too. Are you hungry?”

“I am, actually.” That surprised Caroline because until recently, food hadn’t held much interest.

“That’s good. I’m starving. Thanks, by the way, for the biscuits and gravy last night. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, though.”

“You were tired and I didn’t mind.”

“I’m glad you didn’t throw me out,” Neil said, his voice casual as they turned into a parking lot and came to a stop. “I was wondering, though, if you really kissed me or if I dreamed that.”

His words took her by surprise. The heat of a blush flamed her cheeks and for a moment, she wasn’t a grown woman but a shy girl. Years spent apart and the uncertainty of what Neil might or might not feel for her now made her reluctant to answer so she hesitated.”

Neil watched her and grinned wide. “You did, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were asleep!”

“I was, but honey, a kiss from you would wake me from the dead.”

A delicious happiness soared within and Caroline shook her head. “Would it?”

“Yeah, I believe so. I wondered if we still had it and it appears we do.”

Caroline could guess but she still said, “What?”

“You know as well as I do, Carrie. We still share that close connection, the way we always did. I knew that from the minute I saw you again, but we could have it and just be very good friends. It’s the other, the intense attraction and response. As short and sweet as that kiss was, it made me tingle all the way down.”

He inspired her to flirt. “To your toes?”

“Maybe so,” he said. “But it’s there. Now we just have to figure out what we’re gonna do with it.”

“You could kiss me and see what happens.”

Neil swiveled his head toward her. She read desire in his eyes, tempered with something different. Fear, possibly, but if it was, he ignored it. He bent down and put his mouth over hers, light as a ladybug’s wings to start, then with increasing need. Caroline kissed him back. Fire ignited from the kiss and sent fever coursing through her body. He tasted of coffee and faintly of mint with lips firm and yet pliable against hers. The kiss evoked memories of their teenage years and she remembered the frantic, wild emotions from that time. Neil had been her first lover and she had been his. Their virgin coupling had been clumsy and crude but glorious. Sex with Dylan had never compared and Caroline had believed it was because the act was no longer new but now, caught up in a crazy burst of desire, she understood the difference. Intimacy with her former husband had been sometimes sweet, often cozy but never dynamic, not like this kiss that fired all her senses and made her crave more. Neil made her want to get down and dirty without any inhibitions at all and no regret.

If Neil hadn’t stopped, Caroline thought she might have let him do whatever he wanted in the seat of his truck in a public parking lot and never cared. But he did, leaving them to stare at each with wonder and delight. “Wow,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Carrie…”

“What?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got too many thoughts whirling around my head to say what I want right now. Damn, girl, just damn.”

“Damn fine,” she told him, echoing his words.

Neil gazed at her, still cuddled close, and gave her a sweet smile. “That’s for sure. Let’s go eat before I’m out of the notion. I’m still hungry.”

As soon as they stepped into the simple restaurant, the enticing aroma of barbecue done right wafted into her nose and notched her hunger up to serious levels. The rustic décor appealed as the hostess led them to a table for two in a rear corner. Many of the other customers were dressed in their Sunday best and from the patter of conversation Caroline heard, most had come straight from church. She narrowed her menu choices down to a smoked half chicken or pulled pork and ended up ordering the chicken with a side of coleslaw and cornbread. Neil ordered ribs and managed to eat them without making a mess.

“I would have managed to smear sauce down the front of my sweater,” she told him with a rueful half-smile. “Your hands are clean and so’s your shirt.”

“That’s what they make napkins for, darlin’. Is your chicken good?”

“Excellent. I didn’t think I could eat so much but I managed.”

“Do you want dessert? They’ve got some pretty good pie and the best Mississippi Mud cake I ever tasted.”

Caroline put one hand over her stomach and shook her head. “Oh, no, I would burst.”

He downed the rest of the sweet tea in his glass. “Then I’m ready whenever you are, but there’s no hurry.”