Hemlock Veils (8 page)

She got the sense he felt like she was interrupting that peace. “I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble, and I’ll make sure to thank you all in some way.” She didn’t know how she would, only that she had to.

“Now, Beth,” Eustace said. “Stop all that nonsense. Like I said last night, you’re welcome here anytime, as long as you need. It’s about time we were given the opportunity to help someone out besides our own. Isn’t that right, Sheriff?”

Taggart eyed Eustace. “It ain’t the help we got a problem with, Bathgate, and you know it.” His tall, lanky body pushed through the hemlocks. They followed, and once in the open sunlight, on Clayton Road and directly across from the diner, Elizabeth squinted. She realized, when looking down Clayton Road in the hope of seeing Mt. Hood in the distance, that the town wasn’t just barricaded by trees, but also by the hills. Hemlock Veils, nestled in the cleavage of forest peaks, had no clear sight of Mt. Hood—not even the tip of its snowcapped peak.

“I won’t be any trouble while I’m here. You have my word.”

He sighed and turned to her. “I ain’t worried about that either, Ms. Ashton. It’s
that
.” He motioned to the forest behind her. “It’s bringing in outsiders and putting their lives in danger. It’s one thing for a resident to make a conscious decision to live here, knowing full-well the dangers. But you’re stuck here for who knows how long, and I just want to make sure you’re not putting yourself in harm’s way. You’re not from around here; you’re not used to the rules.”

“I’ll stay out of the woods.”

His shoulders relaxed, and so did his brow.

“At night,” she finished in emphasis.

His brow tensed again.

“I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me, Sheriff.” She moved past him. “Believe it or not, I happen to have good instincts.”

He followed in a hurry, amidst the sound of Eustace’s chuckle. “Those instincts almost got you killed, Ms. Ashton.”

“Ah, the famous Ms. Ashton.” It came from the older gentleman standing by the sleek and sophisticated Maybach. He wore a simple gray suit and tie, and what little white hair remained atop his nearly bald head had been combed over. His smile was beyond warm. “The town is buzzing about you, young lady.”

The diner window framed curious faces. “I see that.”

He extended his hand and she took it. His eyes were close together and his nose large, but his shake was as warm as his smile, hinting at a most handsome soul. “I’m Arne Randolph.”

“Elizabeth,” she smiled. “But…you already knew that.”

He kissed her hand in an old-fashioned way, and she couldn’t help but be charmed. “It’s a pleasure, Elizabeth.”

“Please, you fool,” Eustace said. “She’s going to have enough of that to worry about from Brian.”

“Do I detect jealousy, Old Man?” Arne teased.

“Old man? I’m not much older than you.”

“You’re both old,” Taggart said. He walked across the street to the diner, turning back only briefly. “We’ll be inside when you’re ready, Ms. Ashton.”

“Thank you,” she called, even though he was already inside. It might take more time for Taggart to warm up to her, but regardless of his resistance, Elizabeth was fond of him. Clearly, he cared about the welfare of his town.

“You should be grateful you’re still alive after gallivanting through the woods with this old coot,” Arne said, his shoulders still square and his hands folded formally in front of him. His voice had a raspy, timeless passion to it.

Elizabeth chuckled and Eustace threw her a quick glance. “I did save her life, Randolph.”

“
After
she saved yours, I hear.”

“How do you hear things anyway? You never set foot inside with us. And with that hearing aid, it’s a wonder you know anything going on around here.”

Arne smiled. “I could ask how you eat with that nest on your chin, but some of us have class.”

Eustace waved his arm. As he crossed the street, he said behind him, “I’ll let that slide this time, only because you have to put up with the boss all day. I do feel sorry for you there, old friend.” And with another shake of the head, he disappeared inside the diner. It may have been a joke, but Elizabeth sensed some sincerity to it, whatever it meant.

Arne, however, looked unaffected. “I hope you enjoy your short stay here, Elizabeth. Aside from senile geezers, the town has much to offer.” Something lingered in his brownish-blue eyes, something knowing.

She studied them before looking down Clayton Road at the charming town, then behind her at the old-growth forest. “I think I figured that out the moment I arrived.”

“I’m sure you did.” His eyes, still on hers, appeared to be smiling. “And don’t let Sheriff Taggart, or anyone else, scare you away. People are just protective of their homes, and protective of you.”

“I understand.” They exchanged a smile. “But I don’t scare easily.”

“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?”

Chapter 6

Henry Clayton placed the white ceramic coffee mug to his lips carefully since it still steamed. The coffee, acrid and dull, was the worst he’d ever tasted, but this diner was his only connection to the people of Hemlock Veils, and he couldn’t sit empty-handed. He’d tried cream and sugar in it once before, when Regina had insisted, but that had only worsened it. A few years ago, after he’d rejected one of Nicole’s not-so-subtle advances, she’d mumbled under her breath that his black coffee was fitting for his black soul. He’d found himself smiling when she strutted away, only because it meant he was doing everything right. She’d tried getting his attention in other shameless ways since then, when it was obvious she and Brian were on the outs, but for the most part she never acknowledged him. Hopefully, she was just as intimidated as the rest of them.

But something unnerved him about the visitor who had arrived in the night, the one everyone talked about. Elizabeth Ashton was the only name he’d heard leaving people’s lips since he’d entered the diner ten minutes before. She was brave and mysterious and kind, most had been saying. And the heaviness in his stomach told him her presence would stir something in this town, something that would go against all he had worked so hard to build.

“Did you see how she totally sidestepped the issue?” Nicole spewed with a low whisper. “Like her attack was nothing!” Henry wouldn’t call it much of an attack. Regina rolled her almost-black eyes, reminding him why she had always been one of his favorites here. From over the rim of his newspaper, Henry watched: she and Nicole stood at Brian, Taggart, and Eustace’s booth, Nicole bending just low enough for her breasts to stare Brian in the face.

“Yeah, it’s something,” Brian said, only slightly distracted.

Nicole clenched her jaw and placed a hand on her hip. She had never taken well to someone stealing her attention. For the past two years, ever since her own encounter with the beast, she had played the perfect victim. Brian had fallen for her damsel-in-distress act many times, comforting her until emotions ran hot and her end goal—and his—was quickly accomplished: in Brian’s shop, in the diner’s kitchen, and even behind the Dumpster. Henry had caught them once before, thankfully before it had progressed into something that would always haunt him, but he didn’t have to witness it to know it happened frequently. Word traveled fast in this town, and whether or not people thought Henry was just a detail of the background, he had ears in many places.

He wanted to lay down a law or town code that would prohibit such behavior. Not just because of his biased opinion on the matter, but because of the distress it gave Regina. But it wasn’t his business. He may have his hold on many things in this town, but people’s personal lives were their own; no matter how much he disagreed with them.

However, now that Ms. Ashton was in Hemlock Veils, stealing the limelight, Nicole’s grief would be thrown to the wayside. There was someone new to ooh and ahh over, someone from the outside. Though the change disrupted everything, Henry had to admit that the jealousy tainting Nicole’s already tainted features was satisfying.

“She’s brave,” Regina said again, for the tenth time since Henry had come in. She’d said it to Eustace when he’d entered the diner only a minute before, too, and Taggart just before that. And like Brian did the first few times she’d said it, he nodded, which seemed to irritate Nicole. Hemlock Veils didn’t see many outsiders, especially ones who’d stayed overnight. Hopefully, when the novelty of it all wore off, things would get back to normal.

Henry sighed, attempting to ignore the hype as he lowered his eyes and read the paper from his corner of the diner.

The headline on the article in front of him jumped off the page. His heart nearly stopped at the name in bold letters: Shane O’Donnell. The grayscale picture showed his arm lifted in a wave and both scrawny legs in the wheelchair Henry hated. But as it had been for the past nine years, Shane’s smile was easy and bright, as though he had no reason to be unhappy with his life. And in truth, other than the accident that had ruined everything, he didn’t.

The article was about the Life on Wheels Foundation in Portland and how it had saved so many young people’s lives, including Shane’s. Henry read, wiping his suddenly tense brow.

We asked twenty-eight-year-old Shane O’Donnell what inspired his vision of the Life on Wheels Foundation (an after-school program for wheelchair-bound teens funded by Shane and other unknown sources), and Shane shook his head, emphasizing that the credit is not his own. According to Shane, it was by the influence of one very special person, the same who pulled him from despair nine years before. Now, because of Shane—and a resource still unnamed—teens once labeled disabled are behind the most selfless and charitable acts occurring in downtown Portland. As though that’s not enough, they also participate in their own sports league, one that sets the bar high for any of us
…

Henry skipped to the bottom.

So it is by the method of helping those less fortunate and holding them to the same expectations of others that Shane O’Donnell has instilled self-worth in these young minds and accomplished something truly remarkable. He has left his mark on the city of Portland, whether he wants to take the credit or not.

Wiping a hand down his face, Henry lowered the paper. He’d known this day was coming for some time now, knew it wouldn’t be long before the media would find such an extraordinary person. He stared at the picture of Shane, trapped in the memory of the time he and Shane had first met, ten years ago. It had been one of the most difficult afternoons of Henry’s life, seeing young Shane in that hospital bed, a thin blanket covering legs that would never walk again, and knowing it was completely Henry’s fault. He had etched in his mind the exact placement of every bruise and scratch on Shane’s face, as well as the placement of every signature on his arm cast. Henry had
made
himself remember, had taken those mental pictures so he could recall them at any given moment—moments like now.

The bell on the door jingled and everyone fell silent as the famous Ms. Ashton stepped through. He found himself staring with the rest of them as she rubbed at her arm and gave a nod to the gawkers. “Good morning,” she said, subtly clearing her throat. Eustace gave his crooked smile and turned back to his omelet, his eyes being the only to free Ms. Ashton. There was an air of discomfort about her as she walked forward. Hopefully, that discomfort would take her from Hemlock Veils as quickly as her situation allowed.

Her eyes flitted about the place and met his own, sticking there ever so briefly before he glanced back at the newspaper. He raised it high, blocking the view—refusing to show any more curiosity than he already had.

“Good morning,” Regina said. “Sit. I’ll get you something warm.”

“Thanks,” Ms. Ashton said, and by the rustling of bodies against the vinyl booth across from him, Henry guessed Brian, Taggart, and Eustace were making room for her.

“Sheriff Taggart tells me you took a walk through the forest this morning,” Brian said. Henry loathed that tone in Brian’s voice, the tone he used on all women worth looking at. Giving in to his curiosity—about why she would take a walk through the forest
and
whether she would react like the rest of the women Brian involved himself with—Henry lowered the paper, finding Brian leaning close to her.

She recoiled, but smiled politely. Clearly, Nicole had already become background noise for Brian. And there was no competition. While Nicole probably had to put hours of maintenance into her plastic-looking appearance, Ms. Ashton was a classic beauty. Even Henry allowed himself the realization that she was the most attractive thing Hemlock Veils had seen. In truth, she was the most beautiful woman Henry had seen in too many years to remember, maybe even ever. Her hair, the color of rich soil, had been the first thing he’d noticed when she’d walked through the door. It fell onto the shoulders of her wool sweater in gentle waves and somehow accented her eyes, which were striking beyond description. Her every facial feature seemed carefully crafted by the Maker Regina frequently spoke of. Even the outline of her face and the narrowness of her nose—mousy, but in a charming way—were exquisitely shaped. He imagined little effort went into her appearance, but beauty could be deceiving. In his experience, it always was. It wasn’t often he admired women, not like he used to, and he stopped himself now.

Regina placed a mug of coffee before Ms. Ashton, one of her best he could see, since it had no chips, and Ms. Ashton smiled a gracious smile, one that made Brian scoot a little closer. She glanced only at the mug, placing her hands around it as steam rose to meet her face.

“I lost something out there last night,” she said in answer to Brian’s question.

“Lost something?”

“Mind your own damn business, Brian,” Eustace said, his dentures mangling a poor straw.

Ms. Ashton smiled. “It’s okay. It was a necklace,” she said at Brian. “A locket.”

Brian’s eyes feigned sympathy. “I hope you found it.”