Ladd Haven (8 page)

He laughed, the sound easy and warm and
nothing like the selfish man her mother described. “I remember
those days well,” he said. “Their whole life was about drilling
work into their students.” Friendly eyes crinkled within his
sun-tanned skin, the white of his shirt contrasting sharply and
somehow making him look younger than his forty-plus years. Up
close, his brown eyes danced as though he didn’t have a care in the
world. Squared jaw, strong nose, her father’s complexion was shades
darker than her own. Felicity found it odd that she didn’t resemble
him. Granted his skin was browned from his time spent outdoors, but
even in the dead of winter she could tell his skin would be shades
darker than her own. Her mom was blonde with a medium complexion.
Maybe it was true what her mother always said. She claimed Felicity
favored the Ladd side of the family, red-tinged hair and freckles
to boot. But still, she mused, peering at the stranger who was her
father. It was weird how different he could look from
her.

“
I hear you’re doing amazing
things with your flute.”

Lifting her shoulders, she
replied, “I don’t know about
amazing
. I play...” Felicity pressed
her side against the counter, wondering who would have told him
about her flute. No one knew anything about her music who would
have said the first word to Jack Foster.

“
Don’t sell yourself short,
kid. It’s a tough world out there with far too many people ready
and willing to take you down.” She nodded, imagining him as a young
man enjoying his college days, replaced by more recent thoughts of
him telling her to pay her own way through school, build some
character. He gestured like he was going to tap her arm, but didn’t
and said, “Stand up for yourself. You deserve it.”

Felicity caught sight of
Fran Jone’s net-covered red-head of hair through the kitchen
service window and groaned inwardly.
Great
. She’d be hearing about this
encounter later on.

As though sensing her distress, Jack
turned around and looked in the same direction. Fran stared him
down, but then disappeared into the recesses of her kitchen like a
groundhog popping back into its hole. His dark eyes cooled a
degree. “Don’t let old Fran get to you. She’s always been a nosy
one.”

“
She’s only looking out for
me,” Felicity defended.

About to object, he seemed to think
better of it, nodding instead. Returning focus to her plate, she
picked up a French fry, dropping it three fries over. It was
awkward to be alone with him. Well, not alone-alone but without
sight of her mother. Felicity didn’t remember the last time it
happened.

“
So how about
dinner?”

She glanced up. “Huh?”

“
Dinner with your old man,
catch up on old times?” The breath caught in her throat and he
chuckled. “You can’t avoid me forever. I have a right to visit my
own daughter, don’t I?”

A million responses flew through her
brain, a million reasons no, a million reasons yes, but none of
them made it to her lips.

“
Your grandparents would
like to see you.”

“
Grandparents? As in the
Fosters?”

He nodded. Setting a hand to the
counter he leaned his weight into it. With a fleeting glance toward
the kitchen he said, “They’ve invited you to dinner at the
house.”

“
Why?”

He laughed. “Because you’re their
granddaughter? They care about you and want to know how you’re
doing.” He dipped his head near. “Is that so strange a
concept?”

The man spoke with an intimacy he
hadn’t earned. He hadn’t been in her life all these years, hadn’t
cared what she was doing, cared to help her in any way. He never
called, hardly wrote. Why now? “They never asked my mom to see me
before.”

“
Probably because they were
afraid to ask.” Jack glanced askance and then, as though sharing a
secret, said, “She’s kind of thorny, if you know what I
mean.”

“
She is not—she’s
protective.”

His brow rose, lines forming across his
forehead. “Well, that’s a nicer way to say it but the point
remains. She hasn’t thrown down the welcome mat for my folks, and
because they’re nice people, they haven’t pushed.”

But he was. Felicity stared at him,
mesmerized by the ease with which he spoke to her. It was like he’d
forgotten the past between them, preferring to resume his role as
wonderful and loving father. Felicity never fully understood why
her parents split. Her mom said it was because they didn’t see
eye-to-eye on things. Her dad once commented it was because her mom
was uncompromising. Several years back, Felicity had heard someone
say it was because of his drinking. When she asked her mom about
it, she acknowledged that he drank and that was part of the
problem, but lots of people drank. Didn’t mean they ended up in
divorce.

Whatever the truth, Felicity knew her
mom could be difficult. She was demanding and a bit on the
controlling side, but it was only because she was looking out for
her daughter. Whether it was forcing Ernie to stand by his promise
regarding the property rights to Ladd Springs or waiting at the
cabin every day when she arrived home from school, her mom didn’t
cut any slack.

It was possible she didn’t invite the
Fosters to spend time with her because it would bring up too many
painful memories. Felicity could imagine the same would be true if
it were her and Travis were in the same situation. Once you loved
someone, that love never went away. It changed or dulled, but
Felicity couldn’t imagine ever hating Travis. It would always hurt
to be apart from him, whatever the cause. Take Casey and Troy. If
Felicity were carrying Travis’ child and he left her?

It would kill her.

“
So what do you say? Dinner
tomorrow night?”

Glancing away, she pushed at her coke.
“I don’t know.”

“
What’s to know? You need to
eat, right?”

She allowed herself to look at him. No
horns were popping out of his head. She detected no demonic glaze
in his pupils. “Yes.”

“
You don’t have anything
against my parents, do you?”

Her neck and cheeks flushed warm. “No,
of course not!”

“
Well, then. What’s holding
you back?”

What always held her back. “I have to
ask my mom.”

“
What?” He dropped his head
back and laughed. “You’re eighteen, the owner of hundreds of acres
of land, the proud landlord to the fanciest hotel property in
Tennessee—you don’t need your mother’s permission to do anything
anymore. You’re your own woman.”

Felicity cast her gaze to the plate of
fries, her discarded novel. Distant thoughts wondered if Fran’s
eyeballs were focused on her at the moment. Contemplating her
father’s statement, Felicity disagreed. She might be her own woman
in theory, but in reality her mom still called the shots. “She
won’t be happy if I go without telling her.”

Jack dipped his head and peered up into
her eyes. “See what I mean?” He winked. “Thorny.”

“
Sweetheart, there’s nothing
to worry about.” Annie patted her daughter’s thigh as they sat in a
brightly lit patient room, waiting for the doctor to
appear.

Casey sat on the raised bed, idly
swinging booted legs to and fro, careful not to hit her mother who
stood beside her. The room smelled of alcohol. A small corner sink
counter was covered with exam supplies—a clear jar filled with
cotton balls, a box of latex gloves along with some instruments she
couldn’t identify. An instruction sheet was taped to an upper
cabinet. On the wall were posters depicting the female body, one
showing a baby inside, the other without. Casey thought it weird
how babies were tucked inside the womb, squashed in the cramped
confines of a woman’s womb. She looked around the stark white
office, a bit unsettled. This wasn’t her favorite part of
pregnancy.

“
Your weight is on the light
side,” her mother continued, “but it’s not out of range. Your blood
pressure is a little high, but that could be stress. You’re taking
your vitamins, right?”

“
Yes,” she replied
glumly.

“
Okay, then there’s nothing
to worry about.”

Except the funny feeling she had.
Insistent, gnawing, she felt like something wasn’t right. Not like
she’d ever been pregnant before, but she was starting to sense
things before she thought them. Know them before they happened. It
was weird. She was beginning to feel like she had a sixth sense.
Did all pregnant women feel this way?

“
You’re anxious. It’s
normal. This is your first pregnancy. It happens to a lot of new
mothers. I was anxious when carrying you.”

Casey looked into her mother’s face,
searching for what she wasn’t saying. Did she know something? Was
she keeping something from her?

The door opened and the doctor walked
in. Older, his hair receding, his midsection rounded from lack of
exercise, the man reminded her of a grandfather type. A good thing.
Casey wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable with the new guy in
town. What if he didn’t know what he was doing yet?

With a manila file folder in his hand,
he greeted, “Good morning, Casey. Mrs. Foster.”

“
Hello,” her mother replied.
Casey remained mute.

“
How’s momma
feeling?”

“
Good.” Shifting position,
the stiff paper bed cover crinkled beneath her.

Nodding, he flipped through pages in
his folder, made short grunting sounds. He didn’t say anything,
only uttered his noises as he thumbed through his notes. Casey and
her mother exchanged a look. Were they supposed to ask questions
right now? Wait? Casey fidgeted with the hem of her dress. It was a
simple white cotton shirt dress with a bright floral pattern, a mix
of blues and yellow. It wasn’t bad, but none of the maternity
clothes appealed to her. They were frumpy, dowdy. Then again, she
didn’t expect them to be fashionable or trendy. Comfortable. That’s
what she needed from her maternity clothes. Large tent dresses—as
she had come to call them—weren’t attractive but they suited her
needs.

Peering at her over black-rimmed
reading glasses, he asked, “Do you have a history of high blood
pressure?”

Casey looked to her mother. “No,” Annie
responded for her. “Mine is normal. So is my sister, Lacy’s. I
don’t recall any trouble with my parents.”

Centering on her mom, the doctor asked,
“What about on the father’s side?”

“
I don’t know,” came the
automatic reply.

The doctor raised a brow. When her mom
didn’t elaborate, he looked to Casey. “Is there a way we can find
out?”

“
Is there a problem?” Annie
asked, her posture stiff.

“
Casey’s pressure is on the
high side. It’s not unusual, considering the added stress on her
body, but with her lack of weight gain and elevated heart rate, I’d
like to rule out anything more serious.”

Annie sent a sketchy gaze to her
daughter. Casey swallowed. Neither of them knew anything about her
father’s family history, other than Ernie had been a grumpy old
man. He died of cancer. His brother Albert was still alive, living
in a small cabin Nick Harris had built for him in a private wooded
section of the property, just beyond and out of sight from the
hotel. Albert was a loner, his two sons long since gone from Ladd
Springs. Casey’s throat constricted. Were they even
alive?

She didn’t have a clue.

“
I can get the information,”
Annie said quickly. “I’ll talk to her aunt. She’ll
know.”

Her mother was going to ask Delaney?
Would she know any details about Jeremiah’s health?

“
Are you looking for
anything specific?” Annie inquired.

Setting his file aside, he removed his
glasses and massaged the red dent of skin at the bridge of his
nose. Taking her mother in with gray eyes a shade bloodshot, he
said, “I’d ask about any known history of high blood pressure,
heart disease, diabetes. Find out if there were any issues with low
birth weight, premature delivery.”

Her mother snatched the phone from her
purse and began to type furiously into the keypad. Watching her,
Casey felt glued to the patient bed. Casey’s bad feeling returned.
Jeremiah Ladd was cursing her baby’s existence before the child was
even born. As the doctor went on to describe any one of a hundred
reasons she could be having these issues, Casey only heard trouble.
There was trouble with her pregnancy.

“
I’m going to call Delaney,”
Annie declared as they walked to the car. “She’ll be able to answer
all these questions.”

Casey experienced a blast of
heartbeat, a brief sensation of dizziness followed by a swooning
rush. Perspiration gathered beneath her dress, inside her boots.
Her feet were sweating. Her chest was sweating. The sun was hot.
She was hot.
Nervous
. What made her mother so sure Delaney would know anything? If
Casey recalled, Delaney and her uncle weren’t on the best of terms.
The old man hated her guts and according to her mom, Ernie’s wife
left him and never looked back. How were they going to find out a
family history from a family that was history?