Wedding at Wildwood (14 page)

Isabel tried to picture that particular image, then seeing the traces of amused indignity in her grandmother’s eyes, managed to smile herself. “Well, no, I’ve never seen you wringing your hands in any sort of frustration.”

“Nor will you ever,” Martha replied with a chuckle. “Child, I have complete faith in God’s plan for me.”

Isabel nodded. “Okay, I can buy that, but what if God’s plan involves you having to find a new place to live?”

“Then I’ll start looking.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Isabel questioned. “There aren’t many available places to rent around here.”

“I’ll find something,” Martha assured her as she turned back to her digging.

“The Lord will provide?”

“Yes, but The Good Lord also gave me a brain and enough sense to start looking in the classified section for rental property.”

“And what if you don’t find any?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“You amaze me,” Isabel stated, shaking her head.

Martha looked back over at her. “Isabel, darling, I’ve lived on this earth a long time. And I’ve learned to take the bad with the good. I’ve buried your grandfather and both your parents, so I’ve known grief and despair, but I have also known happiness and joy. And I’ve learned to roll with the punches.” Raising a hand to ward off any protests Isabel might voice, she added, “When your grandfather passed away all those years ago, I moved in here with you and your parents, remember?”

“Of course,” Isabel said, smiling in spite of her worries. “I missed Grandpa, but I was happy you came to live with us.”

“Yes, it turned out okay,” Martha continued. “I was so afraid I’d be in the way, a burden on all of you. But your father and mother took me into their home with open arms. In the end, it worked out for the best because I had to take care of them—and you.”

“You sure did,” Isabel said, her voice quieting. “And you’ve also done your share of work for the Murdocks.” Pointing toward the house, she added, “Look at this place—paint peeling, porches leaning. Never once have they offered to fix things around here, and now, we’re losing what little we have left.”

Martha finished her work, then took off her thick cotton gloves. Gathering her basket and spades, she sat back on her stool. “Eli isn’t doing this to get revenge on us, Isabel. He’s become a very desperate man. He has no choice.”

“Hmmm. So desperate he waited until he was away on his honeymoon to spring this on everyone.”

“He’s ashamed and he’s hurting,” Martha told her. “And we need to pray for him.”

Isabel jumped up. “I have prayed for Eli Murdock. But it’s hard praying for someone who’s only brought me misery.”

Martha placed her hands on her hips. “Isn’t that just a tad like the pot calling the kettle black?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re sure ready to forgive Dillon his past transgressions, but not his brother?”

Tugging at a particularly stubborn root of Johnson grass, Isabel said, “I love Dillon, and I know in my heart he’s changed. He came back here to make amends, but Eli has pushed him away at every turn.”

“Ah, but did Dillon ever once tell his brother how he felt?”

“No, of course he didn’t. He was too…too ashamed.”

Suddenly realizing she’d been backed into a corner of her own making, Isabel bit her lip, then rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. Point taken. Dillon was too ashamed to approach Eli, and Eli was too ashamed to tell anyone he was about to lose Wildwood.” Sitting back down, she gave her shrewd grandmother a small grin. “What is it with men and their stubborn pride, anyway? I guess they’re both pretty hardheaded, aren’t they?”

“Yes. And, they
both
need our prayers.”

Reaching out to take her grandmother’s hand, Isabel gave Martha a quick kiss on the cheek. “But how can
you
not be worried, Grammy?”

Martha patted Isabel’s hand. “Psalm 46 tells me not to worry—‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”’

“Will God provide you with shelter?” Isabel had to ask.

Martha nodded. “Yes, if I’m smart enough to seek that shelter myself. Remember, the Bible says that in my father’s house are many mansions. I guess it depends on how you look at things—some want a mansion here on earth, some just want the peace of knowing their soul is secure.”

Isabel wanted that peace herself. “Your soul is secure, isn’t it, Grammy?”

“I’m working toward it,” Martha said. “Child, would you look at that glorious sunset.” She reached out her wrinkled hand, as if to touch the very rays of the fading sun. “That right there is enough to make anyone feel secure.”

Seeing the dancing sun and lace-edged clouds made Isabel suddenly miss watching the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean up in Savannah.

“My offer still stands. You could come and live with me in Savannah.”

Martha chuckled. “And all those characters you allow to sublet your apartment?”

“I’ll just explain to them that I have a new roommate—or better yet, I’ll find a new apartment, or maybe even a small house. You could go to the beach every day, if you wanted, and grow a garden. And you’d love Savannah. You could explore the old city to your heart’s content and join the historical society. Lots to do there.”

Martha stood up then, and Isabel followed suit. “Wouldn’t you like that, Grammy?”

Tears formed in the depths of Martha’s eyes. “I’d love that, honey. And we’ll see if it has to come to that.”

“I feel better now,” Isabel said as, arm in arm, they strolled toward the house.

“I told you the Lord would give us the answer,” Martha reminded her.

“Does that mean you’re ready to go with me? We could leave whenever you say.”

“What about your grand plan to help Dillon?”

“I mean, after we get this auction thing resolved.”

“And where exactly will that leave things between the two of you—after you’ve fought the good fight?”

Isabel stopped to stare down at her grandmother’s questioning face. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“C’mon in, honey,” Martha said, tugging Isabel up the steps. “I’ve got corn bread and a chicken potpie in the oven.”

“Umm, sounds great.”

Martha faced her before opening the screen door. “It will all work out, Isabel. You and Dillon have a special bond, and…the Lord has plans for you two.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Isabel replied sagely.

When the sounds of wheels scraping across the rocks lining Eli’s long drive caught their attention, Isabel craned her neck to see who was visiting Cynthia. Then her heart literally dropped to her toes.

Grabbing her grandmother’s retreating shirttails, she said, “Grammy, look!”

“What on earth?” Martha came back out to the end of the porch, her eyes going wide as she glanced over at Isabel. “Well, I declare—”

“It’s Eli and Susan,” Isabel said, her hand flying to her heart. “They weren’t scheduled home until Friday. I guess Susan’s honeymoon got cut a little short.”

D
illon heard his brother’s car turn into the gravel driveway across the stretch of country road. So, Eli had come home early. That either meant he was worried about what he’d done, or he’d found out Dillon was still here. Wanting to get this over with, Dillon stomped across the wide porch and down the cracked steps, headed for a confrontation that had been a long time coming.

Just help me, Lord. Just give me the strength to face him without hurting him. Give me the courage to admit I was a part of all of this, the courage to help him.

Not bothering to knock, Dillon entered the back door of Eli’s house, willing himself to stay calm. He had a lot riding on this, but he meant to end it here tonight, one way or another.

Eli was standing in the kitchen, with Susan on one side and Cynthia on the other. The tension in the room hit Dillon squarely in the face as the three of them turned to see who’d just rammed through the door. Susan had obviously been crying. The new bride looked tired and drained. And his mother looked old, her usually impeccable clothes now wrinkled and haphazard, her eyes red-rimmed and devoid of the heavy makeup she normally wore.

But it was the look on his brother’s face that stopped Dillon in his tracks. Eli’s expression ranged between despair and rage. He looked as if he’d aged overnight. Which suited Dillon just fine, since he felt the same way.

“Well, hello all,” Dillon said as he closed the door with a bang. As he faced his brother, all charitable thoughts flew by the wayside. “Home so soon, brother? What’s the matter, your conscience get the better of you?”

“Just shut up,” Eli warned with a wagging finger. “I’m home because our poor mother called me in a crying fit, telling me you were going through all my files and records. What gives you the right to come into my home and rifle through my private documents?”

Dillon edged close, his hands on his hips, his expression grim. “I’ll tell you what gives me the right—my name. I’m still a Murdock, and you should have discussed this financial problem with me, since I still have
the right
to know what goes on on this land.”

Eli glared over at him. “You gave up your rights when you left here, brother.”

“Maybe so, but I’m back now and I intend to stop this sale.”

“How?” Eli asked, his dark eyes blazing with a dare, and maybe a little hope.

Seeing the genuine worry in his brother’s eyes, Dillon took a long breath and silently asked God to help both of them. “I haven’t figured out how yet, but…Eli, I’m willing to mortgage my business if I have to, to get the money to save this place.”

“I don’t want your money,” Eli said. “You’ll never have enough money to pay back what you owe, brother.”

Susan began to cry again, softly at first, then in sobs that shook her entire body. Cynthia came around to take the woman in her arms, talking to her new daughter-in-law in hushed, fretful tones.

“See what you’ve caused with your meddling?” Eli said, waving a hand toward the two women. “Susi and I were supposed to be on our honeymoon, but you’ve managed to ruin that for us, too.”

Indignation coloring his words, Dillon groaned. “You can’t be serious? How could you even go on a honeymoon, knowing that you were about to lose part of our land? Did you really think you could let this happen simply by waiting until after the wedding? Did you think I’d leave, and that I’d never find out about this taking place?”

Eli’s haggard expression filled with hurt. “Leland told me he’d wait a few days. And I didn’t think you cared anymore, little brother.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Eli?” Dillon said, his tone soft now. “I could have tried to help.”

“Oh, sure. I relied on your help for a long, long time, but you left and I learned to do things on my own. I don’t need your help now. I’m doing what has to be done. And there is no way you can stop it.”

“Well, don’t be so sure,” Dillon warned. “I’ve got my lawyers working on this, and I can promise you—I will do whatever it takes to end this thing. I can’t let our home slip away, Eli.”

“What home?” Eli said, bitterness cracking his voice. “Why should I care? That house means nothing to me. I built my own house.” Glancing over at Susan, he added, “And I intend to raise my children here—not over there in that run-down white elephant.” He hung his head. “I didn’t know it would come to this, though.”

For the first time, Dillon saw the torment in his brother’s eyes. He’d never considered that Eli held only bad memories of their childhood home.

“I can understand your wanting your own life, your own home, Eli,” he said now, “but you went about it all wrong. If we can sit down and talk about this—”

Susan interjected then, her blue eyes wide and misty. “I tried to tell Isabel. I tried to tell her that you needed to know about this.”

Dillon’s heart lurched as her words hit him in the gut like pointed arrows. He must have heard her wrong. “What did you say?”

Susan wiped her eyes and lifted her chin. “I said, Isabel knew about this. She’s known for days now. She didn’t know about the auction—nobody but Eli knew about that. But she did know things were bad financially around here. I told her all about it before the wedding.”

Cynthia gave her daughter-in-law a harsh look. “Susan, you shouldn’t have gone around discussing this with other people.”

Flipping her blond curls, Susan said, “I only told Isabel that Eli was in financial trouble, and that he was so worried I was afraid we might have to change our wedding plans.” Looking frantic, she hastily added, “Well, I had to tell someone! I wanted her to talk to Dillon and see if he’d help out.”

Both Eli and Dillon stared over at her, but Eli spoke first, his tone full of disbelief and anger. “You discussed my private affairs with that…that trash?”

Without thinking, Dillon bolted across the room, grabbing his brother by the collar. “Don’t you ever call Isabel that again, do you hear me? Isabel wouldn’t do something like this—that’s more your style.”

Trying to pull them apart, Susan shouted, “Well, it’s true. She knew this might happen, but she was afraid to discuss it with you, Dillon. If you don’t believe me, talk to her yourself!”

“I will.” Letting Eli go, he turned to the cordless phone sitting on the counter.

“Don’t you call that woman over here,” Eli warned. “She doesn’t have any business getting in the middle of our affairs.”

“Her grandmother could soon be out on the street,” Dillon reminded him, his fingers jabbing the numbers. “I think that makes it her business.”

Turning away from the scorn in his brother’s eyes, he thought back over the last few days, a sick kind of dread pooling like a liquid heat in the bottom of his stomach. Had Isabel known all along? Then he remembered little fragments of conversation.
Eli could use a brother right now. Eli could use your help.
Had she tried to warn him?

Her voice, sweet and warm, came across the line, breaking into his thoughts. “Hello?”

Swallowing back disappointment, Dillon said, “Isabel, it’s me. I’m at Eli’s house. Could you and your grandmother come over here. We need to talk.”

Eli broke the unbearable silence while they waited for Isabel and Martha to arrive. “I told you that girl was trouble—she always has been.” With a smug shrug, he added, “I wonder why she didn’t bother telling you—I would have thought she’d take pleasure in seeing me suffer.”

“Maybe you misjudged her,” Dillon retorted.

“I doubt it,” Eli replied, but his gaze was wary. “She probably just decided none of this was worth her precious time. She’s never cared about this land, but she’s sure always wanted to get her hooks in you.”

Dillon jabbed a finger in the air. “I told you to quit talking about Isabel that way.”

“Still sweet on her, huh?” Eli teased. “Guess some people never learn.”

“You certainly haven’t,” Dillon replied, the last shreds of his patience snapping. “We’re all in this mess because
you
didn’t tell any of us that the bank was taking over Wildwood.”

“Isabel could have warned you,” Susan repeated, her own smug look telling him that she would be loyal to her husband, friendship aside. “Apparently she didn’t think it was important enough to bother you with, though.”

Amazed, Dillon said, “Oh, so now it’s convenient to put all of the blame for this on Isabel? Why didn’t either of you see fit to clue me in on this situation?”

“Because there’s nothing you can do,” Eli said.

“And because you’ve never cared what happens here,” Susan added hotly.

Dillon shook his head. “You two were made for each other.”

“Hey, watch it,” Eli replied. “You’ll show my wife the proper respect.”

Dillon huffed a breath. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from someone who’s never shown the Landrys or anybody else in this town any respect.”

“Don’t start again,” Cynthia said, the tone in her voice brooking no argument. “I mean it, boys. I won’t have you two fighting over that girl again.”

Curious, Susan whirled to glare at her husband. “What does she mean? Have you fought with him about Isabel before?”

“It was a long time ago, honey,” Eli said, his hand touching her shoulder. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Susan crossed her arms over her chest. “You could have told me about it.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Eli said, his tone firm. “Right now, I’ve got more important things on my mind—like why you had to go and drag that woman into our business.”

A knock at the door brought Susan’s head up. Dillon didn’t miss the streak of self-righteousness in her eyes. She had told him this deliberately, to take the heat off her husband.

Cynthia opened the door. “Please come in.”

Isabel ushered her grandmother into the room, her eyes moving from Dillon’s stony face to Eli and Susan. Susan shot her a knowing look, then held fast to her husband’s arm.

“What did you need to talk to us about, Dillon?” she asked, hoping they couldn’t hear the tremble in her voice.

Before Dillon could respond, Eli spoke up. “Susan told us she shared some of my private concerns with you—without my knowledge—before the wedding. Seems she wanted you to talk to my little brother about my problems.” His expression pleased as punch, he added, “But for whatever reasons, you didn’t tell him anything and now…well, he’s gone and got his feelings hurt.”

“Shut up,” Dillon warned his brother, his head down, his fists clenched against the counter.

Martha gave Eli a harsh look, then turned to Isabel. “What’s he trying to say?”

Dillon looked up then, his face full of torment. “Yes, what is he trying to say, Issy?”

Isabel’s gaze shifted from Eli’s condemning expression to Dillon’s demanding one. Feeling weak, she leaned against the same counter Dillon was holding on to. “It’s true. Susan told me the night of the rehearsal supper that Eli was in some sort of financial trouble.”

“And why didn’t you tell me about this?” Dillon asked, shaking his head. “You’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

Before Isabel could respond, Eli interrupted, “Because she’s a conniving—”

“I told you to shut up,” Dillon said, whirling to glare at his brother. Spiking fingers through his hair, he faced Isabel again, silent and waiting.

Isabel swallowed back her own sorrow and humiliation. Seeing the disappointment in Dillon’s eyes caused her heart to tighten inside her chest. She could take anything, but that look. “I didn’t tell you…because I wasn’t sure if it was my place—”

“You’ve got that right,” Eli shouted. “You don’t need to meddle in our business. You don’t have any say-so here, little lady.”

“I know that,” Isabel countered, her indignant gaze never wavering. “You’ve always made very sure I knew exactly where I stood as far as Wildwood goes.”

“Yeah,” Eli continued, anger fueling his tongue, “and I saved my brother from making a big mistake. I told him all those years ago, that you were just out to move from the rental house to the big house. You wanted in on a piece of the pie, didn’t you,
Issy?”

“What on earth are you implying?” Martha said, her voice lifting out over the suddenly quiet room. “We’ve lived on this land for decades now, and we’ve never once asked for anything from you.”

Pointing a finger at Isabel, Eli said, “She wanted more, though. She wanted Dillon. But me and Daddy, we nipped that little fling right in the bud.”

Her eyes flying to Dillon’s face, Isabel felt the heat of embarrassment rushing across her skin. Dillon looked up, his expression full of apology and…regret.

Humiliated, Isabel asked, “Is there something I should know? What happened back then, Dillon?”

“Yeah, why don’t you tell her what happened the day you left Wildwood, little brother?” Eli’s expression was dark and grim. “Tell her, then maybe she’ll have the good sense to leave again. And this time, as far as I’m concerned, she can take you with her. I’m not happy about this auction; I tried to stop Leland from taking our land, but if this will get both of you out of my life, then I say let him have it.”

Slamming a fist down on the counter, Dillon caused his mother to gasp as pots and pans rattled. “We’re not talking about me or why I left, Eli. I’m trying to understand why Isabel—or any of the rest of you—didn’t warn me about this auction.”

“I didn’t know about the auction,” Isabel said in her own defense. “I only knew Eli was in trouble. And I
did
try to bring it up, several times. But we had to get through the wedding, and then when I came to the house on Sunday—”

“She didn’t care either way,” Susan said now, her eyes wide. “She didn’t tell you, Dillon, because she was afraid it would distract you—take you away from her.”

“That’s not true,” Isabel said, appalled that Susan could turn the tables on her. “Susan, you know that’s not how I felt—I was trying to spare Dillon another fight with his brother. I honestly didn’t know what to do.”

Susan had the good grace to look sheepish, but then she said, “You told me—you said you didn’t want to get caught in the middle of their problems.”