Saving Laurel Springs (7 page)

She strode off then, but she could feel his eyes following her.

CHAPTER 6

C
arter's thoughts centered around Rhea for the rest of the afternoon. It was proving more difficult to get back into her good graces than expected.

He took Taylor swimming in the lake and decided the old swim raft should definitely be replaced. The deck boards felt loose, and it shook so much on its worn foundations that it was downright dangerous. The big gazebo needed its roof replaced, the boat dock needed a total rebuild, and some of the canoes looked decrepit.

It saddened Carter to see how run-down many areas of Laurel Springs had become. He'd taken Taylor to see the administrative building and the old church after Rhea stalked off. Arriving late, they'd missed that part of the tour. The furniture and equipment in the ad-min building looked archaic, and the broad front porch of the long building seemed to be listing to one side. Carter scowled. The paint had even faded off part of the exterior of the church—a sorrowful sight to see. A stained-glass window in the church was broken and boarded over, and the old Scripture over the doorway had faded almost to oblivion.

He mumbled to himself as he walked through the assembly grounds, adding continual notes to the notepad tucked in his shirt pocket. Was the place this run-down when he left? Or did it just seem worse after so many years away?

Leaving Taylor to ride the tractor with his grandpa, Carter decided to walk through parts of the assembly grounds he hadn't closely studied yet. He'd seen most of the historic areas on the tour earlier, so he walked up the Assembly Road toward the covered bridge now, wanting to check out the cabin and campsite roads.

He stopped and laughed out loud when he spotted a familiar weathered signpost at the junction of the East and West Cabin Roads. The top sign read “Thisa Way,” while the bottom sign said “Thata Way.”

“Shoot, I remember when I had this sign made,” he said out loud to himself. Rhea had made a joke one day about trying to decide whether to go
Thisa Way
or
Thata Way,
and he got a guy in high school shop to make the street sign.

He felt pleased to see it still standing.

Carter sighed. How could Rhea walk around this place every day and not think about him? Their memories lived in every nook and corner of Laurel Springs. He ran a hand through his hair. It's why he could never come back when Judith was living. It would have driven him crazy to be here.

He started down the West Cabin Road, looking at the resort houses on either side of the paved lane. They all looked shabby. He scribbled notes as he walked, letting the old familiar names of the cabins comfort him—Hemlocks, Redbud Cottage, Leaning Oak, Hickory House, the Magnolia—still in the same soft colors of green, pink, gray, nut brown, and white.

Carter paused, noting sheets of blue plastic covering part of the roof of the Magnolia. He walked around the house and found a downed pine tree lying by the side of the house. A storm had obviously felled it right across the roof. With the house showing a gloomy look of disuse, Carter guessed the damage had been done months earlier—but never repaired. He marked it as a priority.

As he walked on down the road, he continued reading the signs in front of the houses alternating on either side—Wayside Way, Two Gables, Bluebird Stop, Sweetgum, Crow's Nest, Summer House, and Mockingbird Hill—again all in a soft array of complementary colors.

Carter turned to start back up the street, savoring the sights of the picturesque cottages he so loved and enjoying the lyrical sounds of Little Cascades Creek tumbling over the rocks nearby.

Crossing the main road to East Cabin Road, he found the resort homes there equally derelict. Again he enjoyed reciting the names of the cabins as he walked, much like he and Rhea had done in singsong tones so many times as children, “Creekside Cottage, the Highlander, Pink Lady, Beech Grove, Dream Catcher, Four Seasons, Fox Den, Summerwind, Chestnut Place, Azalea House, Crescent Moon, and the Dancing Bear.”

He stopped to make a note that the Crescent Moon desperately needed new shutters and then detoured off the road to walk closer to the Dancing Bear. He and Rhea had painted and decorated this one themselves. A sweep of memories washed over him as he thought back.
I wonder if that old set of car pictures is still on the bedroom wall.
He tried to peek in the window but found the curtains drawn.

Annoyed at the memories, Carter headed back out toward the Assembly Road again. Maybe when he started fixing up Laurel Springs, Rhea would come around. He hoped so.

Carter walked through the covered bridge and then explored the West and East Camp Roads beyond the bridge. They paralleled the cabin roads on the other side of the creek but were set up for tent and RV camping.

There weren't many campers using the sites, and Carter could hardly blame them. All the campsites needed to be cleaned up and resurfaced, and the grills needed replacing. He stuck his head into one of the bathhouses. “Yuck,” he said out loud. “These bathhouses need to be totally remodeled, too. They're archaic.” He wrinkled his nose. “They smell musty, too.”

Knowing Rhea was working at the store this afternoon, Carter started up the road in that direction. If he kept putting himself in her face often enough, maybe he would break down that stubborn will of hers in time.

His lips narrowed in determination. Carter prided himself on his ability to rise above challenges and to maintain optimism in the face of discouragement. He certainly needed both of these traits with Rhea Dean right now.

A new wave of nostalgia washed over him as he walked up the porch steps of the Laurel Springs Market a short time later. Vintage tin signs still hung on the wall, battered wooden chairs lined the long porch, and the same old table with the checkerboard painted on top still sat in the corner. Heading inside through the rusted screened door, Carter could hear the soft chatter of local customers and the whine of country music on the radio. The vintage Coke machine that opened from the top still stood by the door, and the wood shelves in the store spilled over with the same mix of store goods and local crafts. A cluster of tables nestled near the back wall by the deli counter, and, amazingly, the ancient metal cash register was still ringing up sales.

A group of children sat eating ice cream cones at one of the tables, and Carter could hear Estelle's voice and Jeannie's over the din of the radio and the chatter of the kids. He looked around for Rhea and saw her, at last, propped in a corner, with Marshall Sutton leaning all too close to her.

A familiar rush of jealousy flashed in his veins as he pushed his way to the back of the store. Marshall Sutton had always nourished a yen for Rhea.

Carter saw Jeannie's expression of surprise as he knocked over a chair on his way through the deli area.

“Hi, Carter,” Jeannie called.

Hearing Jeannie's words, Marshall turned his way. “Well, Carter Layman.” He didn't hold out a hand in welcome. “I heard you'd come back for a visit.” He propped an arm proprietarily against the wall beside Rhea.

Rhea glared at Carter, eyeing the chair that had clattered to the floor.

Carter slid an eye over Marshall's sharp gray suit, starched shirt, and neatly knotted tie. His hair, as always, was cut army short to his head and his dark eyes were not friendly.

From his mother's letters Carter knew Marshall had become quite successful in the banking industry.

“I guess from the suit that you must still be working at your daddy's bank.” Carter knew his tone sounded condescending, but he hardly cared.

Marshall's mouth tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “I'd say you'd know how that is—working for your
wife's
daddy like you do.”

Carter felt his right hand clench into a fist. He'd never liked Marshall Sutton, and looking at him now, he knew that hadn't changed.

He studied the arm leaned too close to Rhea against the wall. “Is Marshall bothering you, Rhea?” he asked softly.

Marshall smiled at Carter in answer—a sly smile. “Rhea and I have been dating for the last six months, Carter. Perhaps you didn't know that?” He straightened his tie carefully. “But, of course, it's hardly your business anymore what Rhea does, is it?”

Carter's eyes slid to Rhea's in question. She lifted her chin and put a hand on Marshall's arm. “I need to get back to work, Marshall. But I'll see you Friday night.”

He put a hand over Rhea's, but his eyes connected to Carter's when he replied. “Yes. I'll see you then. Wear something pretty. We're driving into Knoxville for the symphony.”

Carter's eyes followed Marshall as he walked away. In another day and time, he'd have gone after him and beaten the crap out of him in the parking lot. He'd certainly done it before.

Jeannie Ledford broke his concentration by coming up to throw herself in his arms. “Carter Layman, you big heart-breaker. Why haven't you been by to see me?” She leaned back to let her gray eyes dance into his. “Billy Wade says he's seen you
twice
now, and I haven't gotten to see you once.”

Carter relaxed, looking into Jeannie's pixie-cute face. “Well, you're seeing me now, Jeannie. How has life been treating you?”

“Just fine,” she answered. She looked him up and down. “And you still look as handsome as I remember.”

“That's the honest truth,” added Estelle Denton, coming around the counter to give Carter a hug of her own. “Lord, Son, how long has it been since I laid eyes on you? You've grown from a scruffy country boy into a fancy, slick city man. Real polished and fine-looking.”

“Now, Estelle, Carter was always good-looking,” Jeannie said.

Another throaty voice chimed in. “And he was always one the ladies chased after.”

Carter turned to see Marion Baker leaning against one of the soda tables. She gave Carter an appreciative glance.

“Hello, Marion.” Carter nodded her way.

“I hope you're going to be around for a while to spend some time with your old friends.
Some
of us would really enjoy that.” She twisted the end of the long necklace that fell into the deep cut of her shirt. It drew attention automatically to the large bustline Marion had always been famous for.

Carter heard Rhea snort.

Marion heard it, too, and looked in her direction. “I'm real pleased, Rhea, that you and Marshall Sutton are an item just now. It gives some of the rest of us a chance to know Carter in a way we never could before.”

Carter let his eyes rove over Marion simply to vex Rhea. There was no doubt that Marion Baker was still a good-looking woman.

Seeing his glance, Marion took out a small business card from her pocketbook. “Here's my card,” she said. “You call me sometime. I'm in the real estate business, as you can see, and you'll note that the name is Marion Baker again.” She made a little pout. “You might have heard I married and became Marion Cruse for a time but my marriage didn't work out. I took back my maiden name.” She paused. “So, I'm single again at the moment.”

Carter tucked the card in his shirt pocket while watching Rhea stomp over to the register to ring up a customer sale. He grinned. He'd always loved riling her up.

After Marion left, Carter sat down at one of the soda tables to catch up with Jeannie and Estelle. Rhea kept busy the entire time, but Carter knew she could hear their conversation. The Laurel Springs Market was hardly a large store, and sound carried. He and Rhea had listened in to all the local gossip in times past often enough.

“That vandal caused more trouble on the assembly grounds last night,” Estelle announced. “Have you been hearing about that, Carter?”

Carter leaned forward. “What happened?”

Estelle shrugged. “Oh, nothing much this time. He broke out a window in the old Gilliland cabin.”

He thought back. “I didn't see that this morning when I went on the tour with Rhea.”

“It was in the back bedroom,” Rhea put in. “We didn't go in there.”

He focused on her. “Why didn't you tell me about it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn't know you even
knew
about the break-ins. After all, you don't live here anymore.”

He glared at her before turning back to Estelle. “Did anybody see the person who broke in?”

“A couple of the boys swimming in the lake last night said they saw someone on the back side of the lake near the cabin. But it was dark. And they didn't think anything about it until Billy Wade walked around inquiring today, shortly after Hiram found the broken window.”

“Was the window the only damage?”

“Well, now that's odd.” Estelle pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Hiram said it looked like someone might have pried up some of the old floor boards. And there was a lot of stuff moved around.”

“Like someone was looking for something?”

Estelle shrugged. “Maybe. But what would anyone expect to find in that old cabin? There's only a few sticks of furniture in the whole place and nothing of value there.”

“It's curious, isn't it?” Jeannie leaned her elbows on the table. “You'd think as run-down and beat-up as this whole place is, that no one would bother coming here to do their thieving. They could go down the road to the Cobbly Knob resort and golf course where all the folks with money stay.”

“This is a nice place, too,” Rhea said defensively.

Jeannie waved a hand. “Oh, you know what I mean, Rhea. Don't get testy. You've said about the same thing yourself before.”

Carter frowned. “Well, I don't like the idea of someone skulking around the grounds at night. I think Billy Wade should put a padlock on the entry gate and start locking it at night.”