One Mountain Away (32 page)

She had to admit this was a perfect house for a young family, just large enough to give everybody plenty of room and small enough to clean without a fuss.

Inside tour finished, Davis pointed through the sliding glass door. “I was here in the spring, to drop off their taxes, and I liked it. Come see the lower deck.”

He unlocked the door, and they stepped outside. The deck had been newly refinished, or else nobody had ever been out here. The house was the end unit of four, and the view was not of other people’s barbecues, but of an open space below them with picnic tables and trees. The larger deck off the living room cast a shadow over one side, which would offer welcome shade in the summer.

“Room for some lounge chairs, and a place for the kid to play when he’s old enough.”

“A good place for a baby to nap,” Harmony said.

“Do you like it?”

It was so much more than she’d ever expected. To go from fears of a shabby one-room apartment to this? She knew she couldn’t stay with Charlotte forever. Before long she had to strike out on her own, but she hadn’t expected to move to a place like this one. She imagined raising the baby here. A room of its own. Safe places to play. Good meals made in a wonderful kitchen.

“Why?” she asked. “This is a pretty expensive bribe.”

“It’s a good deal, and with the raise I’ll need to write off more of my income. That’s the practical part. But mostly? Because when I thought about it, I could see us here. You, me, the baby. My condo’s too small, and we’d be on top of each other. I wouldn’t have any place to work if we made my office into a room for the baby, so I’d have to stay at work for longer hours, especially during tax season. We would hardly see each other.”

She was surprised that not seeing her mattered to him. Yet the words had glided over his tongue so naturally, she found them hard to doubt.

“Are you going to buy it whether I marry you or not?”

“I hope I don’t have to think about that. I want you here with me, Harmony. I know I acted like a jerk, and I’ll be sorry about that forever. But when you moved out, I realized what I’d lost, and now I’m trying to make up for it. We have a baby coming, and we both need to think about what’s good for him or her. I think this would be very good, don’t you?”

“How are the schools?” She was hedging, but she was under the influence, not of alcohol, but of hope for the future, and that frightened her.

Davis shrugged. “Schools? I have no idea.”

“We would have to check that.”

“I doubt we’d be here long enough to worry. It’s a starter house. We’ll want something bigger down the road. But if the schools aren’t good, we’ll send him—her, whatever—to private school. There must be some good ones.”

He wasn’t thinking like a father yet, or he would have inquired. But how much time had he been given to adjust? Despite that, here he was, trying to do the right thing for all of them. Whether he’d thought about schools or not was probably inconsequential.

“I’m getting hungry,” she said. “Let’s get something to eat, okay?”

He looked disappointed, but he agreed. “What do you feel like?”

She was touched. Most of the time he didn’t ask. “Pizza sounds about right.”

“Just tell me where you want to go.”

They went back through the house, but not holding hands this time. She tried not to look as if she was still checking it out, but she couldn’t help noticing things she hadn’t the first time. The subtle pattern in the camel-colored carpet, the silvery hardware on the kitchen cabinets, the fact that the refrigerator had an ice and water dispenser in the door.

Outside he stopped beside the car in the driveway.

“I guess they left their car here so it would still look like it’s occupied,” Harmony said, aware she was probably babbling.

“They didn’t leave it here. I did.”

She cocked her head in question. “You did? What do you mean?”

“Do you like it?”

What was not to like? The car was a pale green SUV, a small one, which meant it performed well on hills and was still easy to maneuver in traffic, perfect for Asheville. The car wasn’t new, but it had been manufactured in the recent past and looked to be in excellent condition.

“Do you need a new car?” she asked. “Are you having a problem with the Acura?”

“I don’t. You do. I bought it for you and the baby. It belonged to the owners of the house, and they only want to take one car across country.”

“You
bought
it?”

“I had it checked out, and it’s in top condition. I had to grab it without asking you, but I was pretty sure you’d like it.”

“I haven’t told you I’d marry you!” She said it loudly enough that she imagined the neighbors could hear her.

Surprisingly, Davis didn’t get angry. Instead, he cupped her face in his hands. “You don’t
have
to marry me. The car belongs to you. Yours is about to bite the dust, and I want you and the baby to be safe, whatever you do. I owe you this much, don’t you think? No strings attached.”

“Oh, Davis.” Her eyes filled. “I can’t take such a big gift.”

“Sure you can. And it’s not a gift. It’s a thank-you for taking care of my son or daughter, for sitting in a miserable clinic to get medical care and working an exhausting job to pay your way. Don’t you deserve some of the good things in life? Here’s one I can give you.”

The tears overflowed. He bent over and kissed them away, then he wrapped his arms around her.

“I want to make your life easier,” he said. “Why don’t you let me?”

Her arms slid around his waist. He felt so good against her, and all this felt so right. Maybe he really was sorry. Maybe he really had changed. Look what he had done, just for her.

“Marry me,” he said. “Let me keep making life better, okay?”

How could she say no?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

ON SATURDAY TAYLOR taught an extra yoga class, and the day went by quickly enough. On Sunday she tore the house apart, scrubbed and filed. When she still had time to kill before dinner, she bundled old paperbacks to take to a library sale, along with clothes Maddie no longer wore for Goodwill.

The best and worst part of the evening came when Maddie called to tell her how much fun she was having in Nashville. Willow’s house, it seemed, came with two dogs, a trio of calico barn cats and a pond with ducks and geese. Maddie’s room overlooked a wildflower meadow, where the whole Black Balsam gang was coming on Tuesday for a barbecue. Willow was making her secret sauce for ribs—which Maddie said she might try to be polite.

Monday Taylor taught Pilates in the morning, and yoga at Moon and Stars in the afternoon. She liked teaching, but she couldn’t imagine just teaching the same classes and postures for the rest of her life. Of course yoga was a lifestyle, not a series of exercises. She had friends who devoted every moment to purifying their minds and cleansing their bodies. Unfortunately she was afraid the things they’d willingly given up or entered into held less appeal for her.

As the day dragged on she was less able to focus. She was aware of a growing discontent, and nothing she’d learned from her yoga masters seemed to help. By the end of the afternoon she was delighted when students began to roll up mats and gather shoes, and not delighted when a couple approached to chat.

“Did your little girl go to Tennessee?” Marilee, who seemed to be the spokesperson, was just a few years older than Taylor and a single parent herself. For a moment Taylor couldn’t figure out how the woman knew about Maddie, then she remembered mentioning that her daughter was leaving town. Maddie was a favorite here, and something of a mascot.

“She did go,” Taylor said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Well, since you’re free and my ex has my little boy for the weekend, we wondered if you’d like to party with us tonight? Nothing too out there. Maybe go somewhere and have a few drinks and listen to music. Now that you don’t have to worry about a babysitter.”

Taylor stared at the other woman, whose smooth blond hair showed a standard of care Taylor hadn’t attempted since high school. Nor—now that she thought about it—had she attempted anything as frivolous as going to a bar to see what kind of men were on the prowl these days.

She thought about her spotlessly clean and all-too-silent house. Images of herself walking the floor with a sick infant when her high school friends were out on the town flashed through her mind. She had juggled college and child care and never attended concerts or parties. She’d even missed her own graduation. Actually, two graduations, high school
and
college.

“Wow,” she said. “I’m so out of practice, I never even think about going out.”

“Then take a refresher course.”

Taylor couldn’t say no. These were her students, and she liked every one of them. Marilee had a wicked sense of humor, and while she came to these classes to keep her weight perfectly distributed, she accepted the rest of the yoga package with good grace.

“What time?” she asked.

Marilee consulted the others, and they decided to meet about seven, at a spot downtown that Taylor knew. She smiled her thanks and promised to see them there.

She was home before the impact really hit her. She looked around the house. Furniture Maddie could flop on. A Harry Potter DVD by the television. Kid-friendly snacks in the kitchen.

Now, for two whole weeks, Taylor could think about herself for a change. She could be twenty-seven without guilt. She could laugh at tasteless jokes and make her own. She could eat what she wanted, drink as much as she could hold, assess the men who gave her a second look and even discuss their merits with other women.

If she really wanted to, she could end up in a stranger’s bed tonight. Nobody would be any the wiser.

Her cheeks were wet before she realized she was crying. She stood in the middle of her living room and sobbed, and as she did, she wasn’t sure for whom or what she was crying. Taylor Elizabeth Martin, a girl who had become a mother much too young? Maddie Martin Jensen, a baby who had come into the world much too early? Or the life she and Maddie had made together, a life that was now under threat from a boy who had become a man trying hard to fulfill his obligations?

* * *

Analiese wondered if Charlotte was up to her old tricks. This morning she’d gotten an invitation for something that sounded like a command performance. Of course it hadn’t been issued that way. Charlotte had prefaced her plea by promising she knew how busy Analiese was and she would understand if the minister couldn’t make time to meet so late in the afternoon. But then she’d followed up with such a thorough sell that saying no would have sounded ungracious and petty.

And how did anybody say no to a woman who might not live to see another year, anyway?

So here she was, late in the day in her church office, waiting for her former demon-in-residence to join her. She counted the other meetings of the day and ran out of fingers. She hoped this one went better than the one she’d just completed with her substitute organist, who had confessed to an affair with a married man—thankfully not one in Analiese’s congregation.

As she waited, she strolled her study, which had been paneled in knotty pine in an age when that had been fashionable, then pickled, when that had been fashionable, too. Now the paneling was painted a restful blue, and the bookshelf that lined one wall was crowded with colorful books and mementos, including the Associated Press broadcast news award she had received for a story about overcrowding at a homeless shelter.

She stopped at the windows, gazing at the courtyard just beyond them. The courtyard was one of her favorite places on the grounds, surrounded on three sides by church walls, with a sedate fountain falling into a lily-pad-studded pond. Staring at it, she realized she hadn’t been outside all day, and when Charlotte arrived, Analiese had a plan.

“Let’s sit in the courtyard. I’ve been stuck inside, and I don’t think I can stand it another minute. We have daffodils still blooming out there. Did you notice? Isn’t it too late for daffodils?”

“I was on the grounds committee the year we selected the bulbs. Early and late bloomers. I guess somebody threw in late-late. I’m really glad they’re a success.” She smiled as if she really was. “I’d love to sit there and enjoy them.”

Outside the air was warmer than Analiese had expected. Charlotte, looking tired but composed, was dressed for it in capris and a crocheted cotton top, but Analiese’s long pants and blazer felt frumpy and confining.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, removing her blazer and rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.

“Glad to be alive.”

Analiese knew that on the question of Charlotte’s health she was being held at arm’s length, but she probed, anyway. “Are you going to start the next round of chemo soon?”

Charlotte was silent, then she held up her hands in surrender. “We’re working on getting my counts up, so I can. I’m kind of a tough case.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

“You say that fondly.”

“I actually kind of like you.”

“The new me.”

“Yes, and possibly the old you, too. Or at least I liked things about that Charlotte, like her energy and commitment to making things run like well-oiled machinery.”

They settled on one of the benches rimming the fountain, and Charlotte leaned back and closed her eyes, turning her face to the sun. “I hope you’ll like my new project. Do you know anything about Mountain Medical?”

Analiese listened as Charlotte told her about the clinic where Samantha Ferguson was the director. Analiese knew that Samantha’s mother, Georgia, had once been the headmistress of Covenant Academy, and apparently not a favorite of Charlotte’s. Analiese had heard that Charlotte had been instrumental in getting the woman fired.

“I’m sure every clinic is filled to overflowing these days,” Analiese said. “Local clergy are always trying to find ways to assist, but there are so many people in need.”

“If we can’t protect our young mothers and children, we aren’t much of a society. Mountain Medical’s running on a shoestring. They need help, and I’m hoping we can provide it. I know the church is already involved in so many things, but the Women’s Fellowship is looking for a new project. And this would be hands-on, just the way you like a project to be.”