Ladd Haven (11 page)

Annie shot forward in her chair,
clutching the collar of her blouse. “What?”

“
During pregnancy. They
weren’t born yet. She had trouble with miscarriages.”

“
Oh,” Annie gripped the edge
of the desk, stricken by relief. “Casey doesn’t have that problem.
She’s well into her third trimester.”

“
Good. Other than that, I
don’t know a whole lot about Ernie’s side of the family. As you
recall, we weren’t real close.”

“
No,” she murmured, more to
herself than Delaney. “Is there anything about your grandfather
that stands out?”

“
Not really. I think Grandpa
Ladd died from a moonshine overdose.”

“
And your
grandmother?”

“
Not sure, really. She was a
mouse of a woman from what I remember. Died early but I can’t say
from what. A blessing in disguise, if you ask me.”

Annie understood. Old man Ladd was a
bear of a man, his reputation for violence scorched the earth
around him. She’d heard stories about him whipping the boys, even
the occasional whisper about him taking his belt to his daughter,
Susannah. Annie didn’t remember much about Mrs. Ladd, only that her
husband was a man to steer clear of. “Okay. If you think of
anything else, let me know will you?”

“
Is there something the
doctor is worried about in particular?”

“
Not that he said, other
than a complete history would help in diagnosing any problems
before they became significant.”

Delaney scoffed. “That sounds
reassuring.”

Annie thought it vague as well, but
without the first scrap of medical knowledge she was in no position
to question the man. “Like I said, if anything comes to you, give
me a call.”

“
Will do.”

Ending the call, Annie
pushed up from her desk, staring at the blank notepad in dismay.
She didn’t know any more now than when she’d initiated the call.
Thoughts of Casey barreled into her mind. She’d been upset when
they left the office, more concerned than she let on, and it
worried Annie. Of course it had to do with Troy. She asked the
doctor if the baby’s father mattered when it came to his health
history questions and his muted response of “perhaps” had thrown
Casey into a tailspin. Clearly, she didn’t want to tell Troy the
truth, and she certainly didn’t want there to be a
reason
to tell him.
Turning out the light, Annie felt her own tailspin of emotion
coming on. Watching her daughter bottle up emotional stress during
her pregnancy was taking its toll. From what she read in the baby
magazines, stress could be a killer. Physical, emotional, mental
stress could take a toll on a woman’s body and wreak havoc on her
unborn child, yet Annie was powerless to do anything about it.
Casey had to be the one to calm her fears. Casey had to be the one
to settle her heart. Could she?

That was the question.

Lying in bed, Delaney trained her eyes
through the black of night, locating a knotty patch of log above.
Roughhewn, the construction of her mother’s hideaway cabin was as
rustic as it came, the bare minimum in construction and shelter.
But then again, considering the entire cabin was built by her
mother’s brothers, Ernie and Albert Ladd, the feat took on a whole
new value. Amazing really what they were able to accomplish, and as
teenagers no less.

Motivated by love and a fierce sense of
devotion, the boys would have moved mountains for their sister,
Susannah. They would have done anything to protect her from the
brutal hand of their father. Delaney closed her eyes, warding off
visions of an abusive Grandpa Ladd against his helpless daughter.
Delaney remembered bits and pieces of his rage from her own
childhood, but it was the tales Uncle Albert told that set her
heart on fire. Not only was Grandpa Ladd’s heart hard as rock, but
his hand was swift with a belt, whipping the boys on a regular
basis. Knowing them as she did now, Delaney could understand they
might have deserved some of it, at least on occasion. But her
mother?

The bastard even took the leather strap
to her. Thinking back, Delaney couldn’t imagine her mom enduring
anything so brutal, yet she never once mentioned it, never once
spoke a cross word against her father. Granted her mom didn’t speak
many kind words either, but from what Delaney had learned, the man
deserved a tongue lashing and then some. Delaney likened Ernie’s
and Albert’s efforts on her mother’s behalf to what she was trying
to do for Felicity, only it wasn’t physical abuse she feared for
her daughter. It was emotional.

Next to her, Nick caressed the fine
hairs around her forehead. He was a gentle and loving man. It felt
good to have him close, felt good to have him in her life. She
could hear his soft rhythmic breathing, sense the mutiny of words
brimming at his lips. He was a strong man, a good man. The idea of
striking a woman was as reprehensible to him as it was to her, yet
he didn’t agree with her choice to withhold the truth from
Felicity. He believed she should have been told. It would have
helped her to understand the divorce, understand the grit of her
mother’s love.

It was a decision Delaney was beginning
to regret herself. If she’d been honest with Felicity years ago,
she wouldn’t be facing the current predicament. Felicity would
understand why a relationship with her father was toxic. But
Felicity didn’t understand. She didn’t understand the first hint of
the reality that awaited her, disguised behind the walls of an
elegant home and beautiful people because Delaney had withheld the
information.

“
Should I tell
her?”

Nick’s hand stilled. “Now?”

“
Better late than never,”
she said, pathetic words fading into the darkness.

“
Do you want her to have a
relationship with her grandparents?”

“
They’ve never been
interested in one before.”

“
Why not?”

A host of reasons, not the least of
which was embarrassment. Mrs. Foster was a society type. Her son’s
behavior was a stain on her reputation, one she couldn’t remove, no
matter how hard she tried, and she’d claw her way past any truth to
prevent a town full of gossip. Then there was her animosity for
Susannah, borne from a jealousy she couldn’t get past. Jack’s
father didn’t help. Gerald Foster understood his sons were
hellions, accepted the fact. They were his blood and he wasn’t
going to forsake them. He might try to round them up and tie them
to nearby post on occasion, but he wasn’t about to abandon
them.

Susannah Ladd’s granddaughter was a
different story. The spitting image of her grandmother, Felicity
could only remind Gerald of the one woman he loved and lost. It was
a love story of epic proportions in the local rumor mill. To this
day, almost fifty years later, the town whispered about Gerald
Foster and Susannah Ladd, at least those who knew them back then.
But Susannah married Harry Wilkins, forever scarring Gerald’s
heart. A reality Victoria had to live with every day. A reality
that bit deep.

“
Jack’s mother has never
invited Felicity over because it’s a cap of crickets she doesn’t
want to open.”

“
Huh?”

Delaney rolled her head toward Nick.
“Jack’s father used to have it bad for my mother. He wanted to
marry her, but Ernie hated him with a passion and did everything in
his power to split the two apart. Since Ernie was her older
brother, my mom listened to him. She wouldn’t go against him.”
After all, she owed her safety and well-being to him, as well as
this cabin. She ended up falling in love and marrying my
father.”

Nick rose up onto an elbow. Resting his
hand on her abdomen, a sharp interest cut into his voice. “You
don’t say?”

“
I do. It was a big to do
back in the day. Some of the ears in town still burn with the story
of Gerald and Susannah.”

“
What’s that got to do with
Felicity and Gerald’s wife?”

“
Felicity is the spitting
image of my mother.”

Nick let out his breath in a heavy
sigh. “Enough said. And Victoria knows?”

“
I don’t know how much she
knows about the relationship between Gerald and my mother. She’s
originally from Chattanooga, and I doubt anyone around here would
have filled in the blanks for her. But Gerald knows. I’ll guarantee
you it’s why he hasn’t pushed the subject.”

“
My, my, you mountain folks
never cease to entertain.”

Delaney jabbed him with an
elbow.

“
Ouch!” Grabbing hold of her
improvised missile he said, “I meant that as a
compliment.”

“
Sure you did.”

Nick chuckled, sliding her arm over her
midsection to keep it securely intact with his hand. She could see
every line in his face, every ounce of his smile, the glimmer in
his eyes. Even in the dark Delaney could envision her husband as
clear as if he were standing in a valley of sunshine. He leaned
close and whispered into the side of her head, sending a shaft of
tingles across her chest. “I was referring to the level of passion.
You country gals can really lasso a man into knots.”

The image amused her. “So take
notes.”

He laughed. “I am, sweetheart. I
am.”

“
Anyway...” Delaney sighed,
thrusting a stream of tension from her lungs. “Felicity is walking
into a hornet’s nest over there and I don’t know what to do about
it.”

“
Do you think they’re going
to rehash the past for her benefit?”

“
No. I’m afraid they’re
going to be tense and edgy, and she’s going to think they don’t
like her.”

“
Don’t sell your daughter
short. Felicity is made of strong fiber. A few stiff old folks
aren’t going to injure her soul.”

“
Rejection is a pretty
strong weapon. It’s something you wouldn’t understand.”

“
Because I come from a
picture-perfect family?”

“
Don’t you?” At Nick’s
hesitation, Delaney grunted. “At least you can’t lie,” she said.
Nick interlaced his fingers with hers and Delaney was glad for the
connection. The weight of their hands together felt firm, solid.
Like him. It wasn’t his fault he was raised by two loving parents.
Nor was it hers that she came from a family of dysfunction. “I
don’t want her to get hurt. You can understand that, can’t
you?”

“
Life is full of hurt. She’s
a young woman with a good head on her shoulders. She’s smart and
strong and she has you to thank for that.” Nick lightly squeezed
her hands. “She’ll be fine.”

Delaney appreciated the vote of
confidence but didn’t share his conviction. When loved ones let you
down, it hurt like a knife through the heart. A stake through the
soul. It was a hurt that never left you.

“
Speaking of hurt, are you
sure about your decision to hire Troy? Talk about hornet’s nest.
That young man has a knack for smacking things.”

Taking in the shape of his head and
face, Delaney imagined his eyes as deep and dark as endless pools,
pools that could swallow her whole. “Honestly?” She closed her
eyes. “I’m not sure of anything at the moment.”

Chapter Nine

Troy’s body gently swayed
side-to-side as his truck rolled over the gravelly road that led to
Hotel Ladd’s staff parking lot. At six-thirty in the morning, he
was challenging the sun in both vigor and timing. He was pumped to
start his first day on the job. Delaney had called him last night
and told him to show up first thing in the morning. No questions,
no threats, no conditions.
You start
tomorrow at seven
. He couldn’t believe his
luck, but he was going to make dang sure she didn’t regret it. He
was gonna be the best stable hand she ever saw this side of the
Appalachian Mountains. Clear across to the Rockies, for that
matter. She’d given him a chance because she believed in
him.

It was a trust he wasn’t going to
break.

Delaney told him the staff parking area
was hidden from hotel view by a pack of trees, the center of which
was cut by a stretch of trail connecting hotel and stables. He
found it easy enough and pulled into the space closest to the
trees. Grabbing his hat, he climbed down and tossed the door
closed, headed in. It was a quiet time of day when only the birds
were awake, swooping overhead in the trees, their high-pitched
whistles distinct, penetrating the misty mountain morning. At this
hour the air was marked by a chill, the damp smell of earth
pronounced as he followed the path through the trees. Used to be he
never saw this hour, let alone looked forward to it. He used to
sleep in every chance he got, including school days if his parents
would have allowed. He’d rather stay up late and wake up late. But
his life had changed. It had to change. He couldn’t go on hurting
the people closest to him by slacking.

Looking ahead through the trees, Troy
immersed himself in the sensation of boots and ground, the fragrant
pine and laurel and the fresh scent of land. Branches floated
overhead, roots jutted up from an uneven path of clay dirt. Gray
rocks of all sizes lined the way, most covered by patches of white
fungus. Inhaling deeply, he thought this was pure Tennessee. Pure
mountain living. There was no place he’d rather be than right here,
headed for a day with his horses. They weren’t technically his, but
when Troy worked with horses, they became a part of him, like his
very own. He bonded with each and every animal, forging a
connection that allowed him to speak their language, train them for
a purpose that suited them both. Horses were work animals, social
animals. They liked to serve, liked to be part of a group. The only
thing that would make the day better was knowing he’d be going home
to Casey afterward where he could share his day. His heart
squeezed. But that wasn’t gonna happen for a while. If ever, his
heart whispered, though he refused to listen. He couldn’t give up
on her. Not now, not ever. A flash of black caught his eye. He
stilled. Was that a bear?