Bright Eyes (10 page)

Practically everyone in Crystal Falls had heard of the Kendrick family. They were richer than Croesus. “Ah. No worries, indeed.”

Zeke smiled. “Ryan’s very supportive. In fact, I think it was him who came up with the riding academy idea in the first place. Being married to a paraplegic, he’s more sympathetic to the plight of handicapped children than most people are.”

“Your sister is a paraplegic?”

“A barrel-racing accident at eighteen. Teaching kids to ride is a wonderful way for her to stay active. She’s always loved horses. She was the state champion three years running in barrel racing and had her eye on the nationals.”

Now that he mentioned it, Natalie vaguely remembered hearing that the younger Kendrick son had married a woman in a wheelchair. “So Ryan Kendrick is your brother-in-law.” Natalie shook her head and laughed. “My, my, you have friends in high places, Mr. Coulter.”

“Zeke,” he corrected, “and I have plenty of friends in low places as well.” His white teeth flashed in a quick grin. “Enough about me. Fill me in on the Westfields.”

Natalie grimaced. “Rosie’s already done that. Is there anything you
don’t
know?”

He threw back his dark head and laughed. It was a warm, rich sound that rumbled up from deep in his chest. “She did cover a lot of ground at a fast clip,” he admitted. “I suspect I won’t be the first person to tell you that she’s darling.”

“Thank you. And no, you’re not the first person to tell me that. Usually after she’s just said something embarrassing. Talking is her strong suit. She shuts up only when she sleeps.”

He laughed again. “What amazes me is her command of English. I can’t believe she’s only four. She gets a few words wrong, but mostly not.”

Natalie released a long-suffering sigh. “She’s a trial sometimes. I can’t seem to break her of repeating everything she hears. I live in terror of what she’ll tell her teacher. She starts preschool this year.”

His lips twitched. “I’m sure the teacher will take it in stride. They hear everything. For first grade show-and-tell, I got up in front of my class and graphically described the birth of my sister.” Twinkling laughter danced in his eyes. “As I recall, I left nothing out. My teacher didn’t faint, but she did sit down.”

“Surely you didn’t witness the birth.”

“I did, actually.” He rubbed beside his nose. “My mother had all of us at home with a midwife in attendance. My dad tried to corral us boys and keep us out of the bedroom, but my older brother, Jake, and I were slippery little farts. We wanted to see what all the commotion was about.”

Natalie tried to picture him as a little boy with a shock of dark hair and big blue eyes. Somehow, the picture wouldn’t come clear. It was difficult to imagine a strong, virile man like Zeke being small and innocent.

His amused gaze rested warmly on hers. “The moral is that you shouldn’t worry so much about what your daughter says. Most people won’t be shocked. They’ll just think she’s cute as a button and be captivated.”

The topic of their conversation returned just then, and she was in tears. Chad hung back, looking guilty.

“Chad pulled my hair!” Rosie sobbed.

“I did not!” Chad cried.

Rosie’s lower lip quivered. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. “Yes, he did, Mommy. I’m not fibbing.”

“So, I pulled her hair. Big deal. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Natalie sent her son a questioning look. “How did you accidentally pull her hair, Chad?”

Chad’s face flushed with anger. “You
always
take her side.”

“It’s not a matter of taking sides. I merely asked for an explanation. If it was an accident, just explain, and that’ll be the end of it.”

“I grabbed her by the shoulder,” Chad said sullenly. “She thought I was trying to take her stupid frog, and she twisted to get away. Some of her hair was in my hand. I thought I only had hold of her shirt.”

It sounded plausible to Natalie. She gathered Rosie close. “There, you see? It was an accident, sweetie. Chad didn’t mean to pull your hair.”

“It still hurt!” Rosie cried indignantly.

Natalie kissed her daughter’s curls and patted her back. “I know, but since it was an accident, you shouldn’t be mad at Chad. Has your scalp stopped stinging yet?”

Rosie nodded but continued to whimper pitifully. “I lost my toad.”

“Uh-oh. That’s too bad. Maybe you can catch another one.”

“I don’t want another one. I liked that one.”

“Maybe you can find the same toad again,” Natalie suggested.

As Rosie raced off to begin her search, Natalie pushed to her feet and smiled at Chad. “It would be a nice gesture if you helped her look, sweetie.”

“Don’t call me sweetie. I’m not a baby.”

Zeke got up to collect the glasses. Then he preceded Natalie back to the house. Most of the tomato stain was in the patio area under an overhang, Natalie was pleased to note. They wouldn’t be working in the direct sun.

“We’ve finished scrubbing away the pulp,” Zeke explained. “Now we’re to the painting stage.”

“I’m ready. Where’s a brush?”

Within minutes, everyone, including Rosie, had a paintbrush in hand. Chad stood on a stepladder, painting the siding below the eave. Natalie was happy to see that her son was doing a fine job, using plenty of paint and going back over each section to catch all the drips. She wanted to compliment him on his work, but he’d been so prickly with her over the last few weeks that she feared he might take it wrong.

Zeke solved her dilemma by stepping back to survey the house. “Are you sure you’ve never done any painting, Chad?”

“Totally sure. My dad always hires this kind of stuff done.”

“You’re doing an excellent job,” Zeke observed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were an old hand. That’s union quality.”

“What’s union quality?” Rosie asked.

Zeke explained about the nationwide painters’ union. “The members are professional painters, and they usually get paid top-scale wages. If Chad put his mind to it, he could paint with the best of them.”

Chad shrugged off the compliment, but Natalie could tell that it actually meant a great deal to him. He stood taller on the ladder rung and became even more intent on his work.

“How does my job look?” Rosie demanded.

Zeke didn’t gush and shower the child with false praise as so many adults were inclined to do with a four-year-old. Instead, he crouched at Rosie’s side and carefully examined the patch of siding that she’d painted. Rosie waited solemnly to hear his verdict. Zeke borrowed her brush to smooth out some dribbles.

Finally he said, “Not bad, young lady. Not bad at all.”

It was praise enough to make Rosie happy, yet not so lavish as to steal any of Chad’s sunshine.
Kudos
. Zeke Coulter was a natural with kids. He was everything Natalie wished Robert could be: firm and exacting, yet patient as well, and always ready to encourage with praise when the children did something right. Chad was blossoming right before Natalie’s eyes, seeming to gain more confidence with each stroke of the brush.

This truly was good for him, she realized. Being around Zeke was bolstering the boy’s self-esteem in ways that Natalie couldn’t.

As noon approached, the sun moved high overhead, sending down a blanket of sweltering heat. Natalie was grateful for the overhang that covered the patio. Even in the shade, she was hot. Her mouth and throat were cottony with thirst, and she yearned for another glass of punch.

She was painting the drainpipe at the edge of the patio when Zeke approached and lightly touched her shoulder. Natalie straightened from her work to give him a questioning look. He braced a hand above her head and leaned close.

“We have company, and it’s not anyone I know.”

Natalie hadn’t heard a car pull up. She peeked around the corner of the house and nearly groaned when she saw her ex-mother-in-law, Grace Patterson, climbing out of a new silver Lexus. “Great. It’s Robert’s mother.”

Zeke arched a dark eyebrow. “Not one of your favorite people, I take it.”

“Perceptive of you.”

“She come around a lot?”

“Rarely, thank goodness.” Natalie sighed. “Something must be wrong.”

Zeke held out a hand for the paintbrush. “Go see what she wants. I’ll keep the kids occupied.”

Natalie rubbed her hands clean on her shirt as she crossed the gravel parking area. Even at sixty, Grace was a tall, slender, elegant blonde who carried herself with regal grace. In the early years of her marriage Natalie had trembled with nerves in Grace’s presence, ever fearful of doing or saying something gauche. Now she just braced herself for unpleasantness.

“Dear God,” Grace said when she saw Natalie’s clothes. “What are you doing over here?”

“Painting.” Natalie quickly explained about the vandalism. “Mr. Coulter kindly agreed to let me and Rosie help work off the damages so Chad will be done in time for camp.”

Grace got that haughty, ice-queen look that had once made Natalie cringe. “This won’t do. It won’t do at all.” The woman opened her purse. “How much do you owe the man?”

“I don’t want your money, Grace. It’s kind of you to offer, but no.”

“Don’t be absurd. You’re married to a wealthy and very important man. You can’t grub around over here, painting some stranger’s house.”

“Robert and I are
divorced,
remember?”

“There are still appearances to keep up. Working off the debt?” Grace shuddered delicately. “It’s so blue collar.”

Natalie gestured across the field at the house where she’d grown up. “I’m from blue-collar stock, Grace. Always have been, always will be.”

A look of distaste moved across the older woman’s perfectly made-up countenance. Grace had never liked any of Natalie’s relatives. Their connection to the Patterson family had always been a source of embarrassment to her. “You’re the mother of my grandchildren. You must set a proper example.”

“In my opinion, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Both my kids are learning what it means to take responsibility for their actions.”

Grace slipped the checkbook back into her handbag. “I didn’t come here to spar with you, Natalie.”

“Good. I’m tired.” Natalie tried a smile. “So, why have you come?”

“It’s Robert.”

Natalie noticed then that the older woman was trembling. “What’s he done now?” she asked resignedly.

Grace’s faded blue eyes filled with tears. “You’ve got to
do
something, Natalie. His behavior is so scandalous that people are starting to talk.”

Natalie translated that to mean that Robert’s sexual escapades were raising eyebrows at the country club. “I’m sorry to hear that, Grace, but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Go back to him! At least he tried to be discreet when he was married.”

Natalie thought of the countless nights she’d paced the floors, wondering where Robert was, only to have him come home at dawn, smelling of another woman. “He wasn’t discreet enough, I’m afraid. I’ll never live like that again.”

Grace hugged her Coach handbag to her chest. “It’s not as if he’s the first man on earth to stray. Smart women weather the storm.”

The storm, as Grace called it, had begun shortly after the wedding and had never stopped in almost eleven years. “I guess I’m not very smart.”

“I stopped by his house this morning, hoping to talk with him.” Grace got a calculating look in her eyes and leaned closer. “He was with that little tramp, Cheryl Steiner.”

The last Natalie had heard Robert had been dating a blonde named Bonnie Decker. Not that it mattered. His girlfriends were interchangeable, all of them young and voluptuous with bleached hair and room temperature IQs.

“I walked in and found them together in
your
bed,” Grace added, clearly expecting a horrified reaction.

The bed in question was a Patterson family heirloom, handed down to Robert by his father. Originally it had belonged to Helena Grant Patterson, Robert’s great-grandmother.

“It’s not my bed, Grace. It never really was.”

“The judge determined differently.”

Natalie couldn’t argue the point. Robert’s insistence during the divorce that all their assets be divided equally by a judge had ended just as he planned, with Natalie being fleeced financially, but it had also resulted in a chaotic misappropriation of possessions, with both of them being granted ownership of or interest in things that weren’t rightfully theirs. They had finally reached a settlement out of court, each of them forgoing all interest in the other’s family heirlooms and inheritances, nullifying Robert’s half interest in the Westfield farm, which Natalie had inherited from her grandmother during their marriage.

“Who owns the bed is beside the point.” Natalie folded her arms. “Robert and I are divorced. I no longer care what he does or with whom he does it.”

“He’s shaming you!”

“No, he’s shaming himself. Robert’s choices are no longer my concern.”

“How can you say that? If nothing else, his actions reflect on the children.”

Natalie shook her head. “Chad and Rosie aren’t responsible for their father’s behavior, reprehensible as it may be.”

Grace dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue, taking care not to smudge her makeup. “When I walked in on them, Robert was furious and ordered me out of the house. He says I’m no longer welcome there without an invitation.”

Natalie’s heart caught at the pain she glimpsed in Grace’s eyes. Being a mother herself, she understood how that must have hurt. “Ah, Grace.”

“I’m his
mother!”
she cried. “After everything I’ve done for him, how could he treat me that way? And in front of that little tramp? It’s the last straw for me, Natalie. I was so furious. You just can’t imagine. If I’d had a gun, I would have shot him, I swear.”

Natalie patted the older woman’s shoulder. “You don’t mean that. Robert is your son. You’re angry right now, and with good reason, but it’ll pass.”

“No,” she said softly. “Not this time.” Hopeless bewilderment clouded her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Natalie had long since stopped trying to understand Robert. He could seem warm and compassionate and wonderful when it suited him, but beneath the surface, he was a shallow, selfish, and dishonest man who lived by his own set of rules.
All veneer and no underlay
was how Pop described him, and that pretty much said it all. Unfortunately, Natalie had been too young and naive at eighteen to realize that.