One Mountain Away (31 page)

The front door opened, then slammed shut and Maddie shouted she was home.

“No duh,” Taylor said, then louder, “I’m in your room, sweetheart.”

Maddie came in and flopped down on the beloved lavender chenille spread Taylor had found at a flea market. “School sucks, but it’s over ’til next year.”

Taylor bumped fists with her. “Yippee!”

“What are you doing? I already packed.”

“A bathing suit, two pairs of jeans and four pairs of shorts. I thought you might like some shirts to wear with them, and underwear, too. Just in case you need more than the pair you’re wearing today.”

“They have stores in Nashville, right?”

Taylor knew that wasn’t a real question. “Do you have all your other stuff packed? Toys? Books? Games?”

“I packed Josefina and all the clothes Grandma made for her in my backpack. If Grandma comes to Nashville to see us, I don’t want her to feel bad. And I packed three books, but I don’t remember which ones.”

Josefina was Maddie’s American Girl doll, and the clothes Jeremy’s mother had sewed for her would keep the doll well dressed for years. Taylor knew Maddie was really bringing her for comfort.

“Why don’t you put in some Magic Markers and paper, and some pens? I addressed a couple of envelopes and put stamps on them so you can write me.”

“I’ll use Daddy’s computer or I’ll call.”

“I would love a real letter.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue.

Somebody knocked on the front door, and before Taylor could respond, Maddie was racing through the house. Taylor told herself to be calm. After the phone call ten days before in which Jeremy had laid down the law, she had phoned her lawyer, who’d told her that her best and only recourse was to allow Jeremy to take Maddie to Nashville. If she refused and Jeremy hauled Taylor to court, she could face worse consequences than two weeks away from her daughter.

She heard Maddie’s whoop and Jeremy’s baritone drawl, and tried to block out both. She wondered if he was arrayed in Black Balsam Drifters’ black jeans and black Western shirt, or if he was giving the bad-boy image a rest. Personally she thought faded overalls and chewing tobacco might be a more appropriate image for a man from the North Carolina mountains, but Jeremy’s father was a banker, and his mother had a doctorate in international affairs. The Jeremy she had known as a teenager hadn’t even liked to hike up to Black Balsam Knob.

She took a deep breath as footsteps approached a few minutes later, and she looked up when they stopped in the doorway. “Jeremy,” she said in the friendliest tone she could manage. “We’re just about packed here.”

Jeremy Larsen got better looking every time she saw him. As a teenager he had been almost too thin, but since then he had grown into his incongruously broad shoulders and long legs. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes that stood out against tanned skin. Every time she had to confront him, she noted the resemblance to her daughter, and she knew this would work in Maddie’s favor in her teens.

“Willow borrowed a van, so we have plenty of room.”

Taylor thought she could probably fit the entire contents of her house in a van, but she nodded. “I was hoping to meet her.”

“She left to gas up. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She nodded, her gaze drifting to Maddie, who looked worried. Taylor took a breath and smiled. “You must be wiped, Jeremy. And you’re turning around and going straight back? How about some coffee or something to eat?”

“We grabbed a bite about an hour ago. I’m fine. And I’d like to get there before dark, so we can settle in before Maddie’s bedtime.”

“That makes sense.” Taylor realized she was squeezing the last of the rolled up T-shirts in her hands, the way she wanted to squeeze Jeremy’s neck. She slipped it into the suitcase and zipped it closed. “I think we’re set. Maddie assures me they have stores in Nashville, if we forgot anything.”

“Maddie, why don’t you grab anything you’d like to snack on from the kitchen?” Jeremy said. “We’ll be stopping for dinner, but you might need something in the van.”

Maddie looked from her father to her mother, seemed to decide it was safe to leave them in her room together and took off. Gladly, Taylor thought.

“I have her doctor’s records for you, and anything else you might need. Her meds and medication reminder alarm.” Taylor pointed to a blue backpack. “It’s all there, including suggestions on what not to let her do.”

“You mean like skydiving and mountain climbing?”

She sighed. “Okay, this is hard for me. You know it, I know it. I’m trying.”

“And I appreciate it. I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. We’ll be careful.”

“She’s so excited. That’s not always good.”

“Has she had many seizures since the hospital?”

She knew Jeremy had done his epilepsy homework, and he’d been with Maddie when she’d had seizures in the past, so he would understand. “No complex ones. We’ve adjusted dosages. Maybe we’re on to something.”

“Willow had two years of med school before she quit to work in the music biz. She’ll be a help.”

“She quit med school to become a promoter?”

“She likes music better than dissecting cadavers.”

Taylor made a face. “I can relate.”

“I hope you can, T. I’d like all of us to get along, and Willow’s the real deal for me. Once Maddie gets to know her, I’m going to tell her we’re engaged.”

Since Taylor had never been the real deal for Jeremy, or vice versa, she felt no jealousy. She did feel a stab of anger that she would be forced to share her beloved daughter with a stranger.

“I’m going to do my best,” she said, not particularly graciously.

There was another knock, and Jeremy left to get the door. “That’ll be her. Unless your dad’s coming to say goodbye?”

“He did that last night.”

Taylor lifted the suitcase off the bed, grabbed the blue backpack and took both into the living room as Jeremy ushered in a blonde woman who was almost as tall as he was. Her shoulder-length hair was streaked several shades of gold, and she wore more makeup than Taylor did in a month, although it was artfully applied. Apparently turquoise was her favorite color, because everything she had on, from sandals to earrings, was the same blue-green shade, which, not surprisingly, matched her eyes.

Maddie came in with a plastic bag of nuts and dried apricots Taylor had already put together for her, and Jeremy put his arm around her shoulders. “Maddie, this is Willow. Willow, Maddie, my little girl.” He nodded to Taylor and repeated introductions.

Willow squatted so she could look Maddie straight in the eyes. “I’m so glad to meet you.” She had a soft voice, almost out of sync with her brassy exterior, but when she smiled and her eyes crinkled in genuine delight, Taylor understood one of the things Jeremy probably saw in her.

Apparently Maddie saw it, too, because she smiled back. “Me, too.”

Willow stood and held out her hand to Taylor. “I know you’re going to miss this little gal, but I promise we’ll take really good care of her.”

“Miss her? Me?” Taylor forced a smile. “I’m planning to eat ice cream and pizza the whole time she’s gone, and watch wrestling in my bathrobe.”

“Mom!”

Taylor bumped Maddie’s shoulder with her fist. “I think your dad’s in a hurry, sweetheart, so you can get to Nashville and see everything before it gets too dark. Give me a hug, and call when you get there, okay?”

Maddie threw herself into Taylor’s arms; then, in a flurry of goodbyes and hefted luggage, they were gone.

Minutes later the telephone rang, and Taylor realized she was still standing in the same spot. She crossed the floor to answer it.

“Has she taken off yet?”

Taylor leaned against the counter, glad it was Sam. “A few minutes ago.”

“Mom’s keeping Edna tonight. A last-day-of-school celebration. Let’s go up to the parkway and watch the sunset.”

Taylor hung up after they made plans. At this moment she was supremely glad Sam had been on the other end of the line, but at the same time the identity of her caller had been no surprise. The only other person who might have called this afternoon was her dad.

She was always so busy with her daughter and with trying to make ends meet, she had no time for friends. Now she had two weeks without Maddie in the house.

How exactly was she going to spend them?

* * *

Friday night was always busy at Cuppa, and Harmony could count on the best tips of the week. This Friday the restaurant was closed to the public for a private wedding reception. She had been there most of the day to help set up and prepare food, and Stella had made sure she was well paid, since she wouldn’t be needed to serve. Now she had the evening off, but not, apparently, alone.

When she came out of the ladies’ room Davis was waiting impatiently by the door. She figured Stella had told him she was there.

Once they were outside, he took Harmony’s denim backpack and tucked it under his arm. “It’s not going to hurt you to go out to dinner with me,” he told her. “We don’t have to talk about the future. We can just get something to eat and catch up on our week.”

Harmony knew exactly what that meant. He would tell her all about his, then his eyes would glaze over as she told him about the two visits she’d made to Capable Canines, the first to take the puppy photos, the second to drop off a casserole and an apple cake, so Brad wouldn’t have to throw together dinner after a long day at his law office.

“I guess that’s okay,” she said, because Charlotte was attending a business dinner that night, and going home to the huge empty house didn’t sound like much fun, either.

“I’ve got something to show you first,” he said. “Have enough energy to take a little drive? It’s not too far.”

She had no energy, but sitting in a car didn’t sound bad. “My feet are killing me. I hope you’re not planning on a walk.”

“No walking involved.”

She slipped off her shoes once she was inside his Acura—new last year and nearly paid off. Obviously Davis was in the right firm. He was fiscally conservative, which was in line with his employers’ philosophy. He didn’t mind suits and ties, carefully saved his money and invested wisely. Most of all he was willing to put in long hours and play all the requisite office games. All in all, he was made to be an accountant. Had he not carelessly diddled a cute blonde waitress and gotten her pregnant, he would be almost too good to be true.

Harmony figured she had saved Davis from turning sixty-five before he turned thirty.

“Hard day?” he asked, as he pulled away from the curb.

“Kind of fun, though. I assembled appetizers for the first couple of hours. Mushrooms in filo dough—that stuff’s crazy to work with, but I think I finally got the hang of it. Artichoke and goat cheese bruschetta. Edamame hummus. And I was in charge of setup. The place looked pretty good, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t really notice.” He paused, as if he realized he’d said the wrong thing. “I would have paid more attention if I’d known you were in charge.”

“It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t like it was
my
wedding reception.”

“That would be a good place for us to have one.”

“Umm…”

“I got a raise,” he said.

“Did you?” She turned so she could see his face. “As much as you wanted?”

“Never.”

They both laughed.

Davis slowed and turned into a quiet neighborhood not far from the Grove Park Inn. The lodge-style hotel had been a fixture of Asheville life since the beginning of the twentieth century, and its massive granite boulders had been hewn from the mountain beneath it. Through the years the inn’s guest list had included some of the most famous citizens in America. Davis had once taken her there for a drink and the view.

Tonight they kept going until Davis turned onto a side street, following it nearly to the end before he turned again. The road curved up a mountainside, and she was glad when he stopped in front of a contemporary house with pale gray siding and a garage that jutted toward the road. She immediately liked the house, which was attached to its neighbor along one wall, liked the black shutters and paler gray roof, the big tree in the small front yard, and the quiet, tidy neighborhood of what were most likely condos.

She noted a car in the driveway. “Are we visiting friends, or are you dropping something off for a client?”

“No. We can go inside. I have the keys.”

“Why do you have the keys?”

He didn’t answer. He got out, and after reluctantly slipping her shoes back on, so did she, following him to the door.

“Is this the way an accountant breaks into somebody else’s house? In a suit, with keys in his hand and his license plate in full view?”

“You’ll like the place.” He opened the door and waited for her to enter. Despite the car in the driveway, the house was empty of furniture and looked to be freshly painted. She stepped into the slate foyer and looked beyond at a stretch of pale carpet that ended at French doors leading out to a spacious deck.

She faced him. “I feel funny being here, Davis.”

“You don’t need to. The owners gave me the keys and told me to look around. They’re moving to Sacramento and putting it on the market next week. This development’s popular. They won’t have a problem selling it.”

“Are you thinking about buying it?”

“That depends.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you think it would be a good place for us to live? Our first house? It has three bedrooms, a master up here and two below. One for the baby, one for a home office. Let’s check it out.”

“But I haven’t said I’ll marry you.”

“We’re just looking around.”

“You’re trying to bribe me.”

He smiled, and when Davis put his mind to it, his smile could be incredibly appealing. “Is it working?”

When he reached for her hand, she let him take it. They walked through the house together. Without furniture the rooms felt large, but they were probably average. The floor plan was sensible, with few surprises, but she was won over by the large pantry off a kitchen equipped with new appliances, and a lower floor only five steps down, not a full flight. The smallest bedroom downstairs, which Davis liked for the baby, was also the closest to the stairs, offering both privacy from the living area and easy access once the baby was old enough to sleep in a full-size crib. Beyond the cozy family room was a laundry area.