Lacy (The Doves of Primrose) (3 page)

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Lacy wanted to crawl under the porch and die, just like that possum last month. She had meant to ask Kyle who was paying the bill and instead she jumped, cowered, fidgeted and checked out his package. What the hell was wrong with her? Maybe it was having him here again. They had done some amazing things together in the dark of night while her mother slept at the other end of the house.

She hurried past her room
, trying not to remember it was two doors away from Kyle. She hoped he didn’t remember where it was. He had always entered and exited through the window on the east side;* she didn’t think he had even been in the hallway or on the landing before.  Maybe she could get lucky. Or maybe she was just misinterpreting his behavior. He was an oversexed actor and probably behaved like that with every female he encountered.

She descended the stairs
, wanting to hit herself for behaving that way. She needed to get a grip. She didn’t even like him, he simply looked good in his tight shirt and fancy jeans. And that damn smile of his. Lacy shook her head, trying to dislodge the sexy quirk of his lips from it. But man, his whole face lit up when he smiled, making his baby blues sparkle. He made her feel like she was the only person on the planet when he did that. 

She sighed to herself. That was what got her in trouble eight years ago and it took her nearly a year to get over it. Hell, she still wasn’t over it. He had left her at that pond, waiting for him and –

“Lacy.” Scarlett meant for it to be a whisper, but it sounded like the clang of a dinner bell to Lacy, pulling her from her thoughts. Scarlett waved her into the newly redecorated dining room. The place practically shone from all the crystal and bone china on the tables. They were all pieces from her great-great-grandmother’s collection. Lacy only used them on special occasions.

“We’re not having the Queen of England over for dinner, Scarlett
,” Lacy growled, then felt like an ass after she saw the apologetic look on her friend’s face. “Sorry, it’s just having that man in this house has brought out feelings I didn’t know I still had.”

“Really?”
Scarlett’s sea blue eyes sparkled with interest as she looked down from her considerable height. She crossed her arms and lifted her brows. “Do tell.”

“Not those kind of feelings.” Lacy swatted her on the arm. “Feelings like I want to take a knife and carve out his heart if I thought I’d find one.” Shoot, she had revealed too much. Lacy had never told her friends exactly what had happened between her and Kyle that summer.  Emmylou had been in Europe with the Honors Club then and Scarlett had been working so much at the grocery store trying to save up for college that Lacy never saw her.

Besides, she had been so angry and embarrassed by his betrayal she wished it had never happened. She also wished she could stop focusing on it now that he was home. He had obviously forgotten what he had done or he was just that much of an asshole. With a deep sigh, Lacy realized she was going to have to save her sanity and the only way to accomplish that, without strangling Kyle or throwing herself at him, was to treat him like any other guest. Any other drop-dead gorgeous guest whose mere presence vibrated every cord in her body making –
Stop!
her mind commanded.

Scarlett was watching her
closely but seemed resigned to dropping the subject. “Do you want me to get out the other dishes?”

It was nice to have her best friend working with her at the B&B. Lacy always knew the job would be done with her here. Scarlett was the most responsible of the three of them.
“No, honey. We can use it for lunch. It doesn’t get used enough anyway, it’s time it had an airing. So did Emmylou go back to the coffee shop?”

Scarlett got a funny pucker to her forehead before she a
nswered. “I’m not sure. She milled around pretending to clean in the entryway while Kyle, the director and whoever those other people were talked their movie stuff. Then she offered to show everyone their rooms like she was the maid and took off chatting to the director. Actually, I’ve never seen her like that before.  I think she was nervous.”

“That’s weird.” Lacy had never known Emmylou to be ner
vous. Her parents wouldn’t have allowed it. They raised her to be a showpiece. Lacy always thought Emmy’s home life was slightly dysfunctional in its desire to appear normal. The Bennetts were always pressing their daughter to participate and excel in everything. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. She was literally in everything from music to academics to athletics. There were times when she and Scarlett, who were referred to as the misfits, had to attend those activities just to remind themselves what Emmylou looked like.

“Well, maybe it’s just the famous thing that’s got her off her game. She’s not used to being the least famous person in the room.” Lacy checked her watch. “Crap, we better go and get
lunch ready.”

“I’ve already got the chowder on simmer and the biscuits are in the oven. We just need to toss the salad and we’re ready for lunch.”

Lacy gratitude deepened. She couldn’t survive without Scarlett; she was the most organized free spirit Lacy knew.  Scarlett had never been interested in anything in particular. She was satisfied with floating down life’s path. She shrank from attention in hopes of blending with the background. Little did she know that was impossible for her to accomplish. She was too darn beautiful for her own good and the quiet thing worked as the exact opposite of what Scarlett strived for. She drew attention all the time, she was an enigma people were instinctively drawn to. And her gentle heart and compassion for others made them fall in love with her.

Scarlett was the one who kept this place running. She took care of all the little details Lacy couldn’t focus on or keep track of. Lacy felt like a scatterbrain most of the time. She was so busy flying from collapsing chimneys to rotting shingles to loose floorboards to notice things like lunch. And Scarlett had happily agreed to split her time between her greenhouses and
The Dove House when Lacy took over.

“You are my life saver, Scarlett. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pink tinted Scarlett’s apple cheeks. “You’d have a tray of cold cuts and a sack of bread on the table for everyone.” They laughed and bumped shoulders as they started for the kitchen.

Lacy tossed the salad with Scarlett’s special recipe salad dressing and piled it into bowls. Scarlett arranged them on the serving tray and handed it back to Lacy who shook her head.  Scarlett narrowed her brows.

“You always take the tray out.”

Lacy made a job out of wiping her hands on her apron. “You go ahead. I have a lot to do in the, uh, barn. I need to check Be
tty’s leg and change the dressing.”

Scarlett didn’t like to serve people, she preferred the kitchen
work and Lacy knew she was practically feeding her to the wolves but she couldn’t face Kyle. She wanted to avoid all contact with him. It was safer that way. Scarlett’s face paled, but she nodded and made her way to the door.

“Take one of those apples out to her and give her a pat for me.” A weak smile perked in the corners of Scarlett’s mouth
.

“Okay.”

Lacy was a dirtbag. Here she was lying to her best friend, the saint. Scarlett was also a hopeless animal lover; the woman couldn’t kill a spider because she believed
Charlotte’s Web
was actually possible. She should let Scarlett take the apple out to the injured mare and check the dressing on the wound Betty got during their ride the other day, it would have been better. But no, because Lacy was a coward, a chicken-shit in every sense of the word, she was making her friend realize her greatest fear. Well, Lacy was going to hell anyway, this couldn’t count against her too much, right?

She watched Scarlett back out the door like she was going to the gallows and Lacy’s heart wrenched. When the door swung back it brought Kyle’s whiskey and cream voice with it. Lacy rushed to peek out the bottom of the round window. She had to get on her tip-toes to get it done.  She scanned the tables
, quickly spotting Kyle; it wasn’t hard as he was the largest person in the room and had all the charisma of a magnet in a bucket full of nails.

She couldn’t make out what he was saying to Scarlett while she served the salad but it had a strange effect on her friend. Sca
rlett smiled, tucked her hair behind her ear and, without blushing, spoke to the man. Lacy gritted her teeth when he touched Scarlett’s hand. 
Damn, he was good.
Or perhaps… oh shit!
Lacy darted away from the door, ripping her apron off as she ran past the butcher block table. She snatched up an apple and pushed the screen door open.

Trying to catch her breath after she launched off the back step and praying Scarlett hadn’t seen her leaving the kitchen on her way back through the door
, Lacy held her aching side. She should probably start exercising. She rolled her eyes, just add it to the list of things that won’t ever get done.

The trees cast a dappled shadow over the deep green grass. Autumn
in Nebraska was Lacy’s favorite time. It was the deep breath of life just before a season of rest. The first of September was thoroughly exhilarating, crisp air and the final fragrant blooms of the year. Now she just hoped it would stay nice so the high-paying guests could film their movie and make a ton at the box office.

That was the goal. Lacy prayed it would happen, willed it to. Without a serious infusion of funds she and this place were sunk and she couldn’t live with that happening. She had to open her mouth to relax her tight, stress-locked jaw. If that stupid husband of hers hadn’t run off with every penny she had saved in the past eight years slaving away at The Curly Gates salon
, clipping hair and listening to gossip while trying to transform thin hair into luscious locks per every customer’s request, she wouldn’t be tied up in knots every day trying to make this place cash flow.

She vowed she would never do it again. She wouldn’t be at anyone’s beck and call after years of marriage to the world’s worst husband. Now here she was running one of the neediest businesses in the free world.
A bed and breakfast screamed: “Yes, I want to be your slave! Your wish is my command!” But this place was hers, it was constant, it was home.

A whiff of sweet hay greeted her
halfway to the barn, soothing her nerves. Jimmy had dropped off a fresh delivery this morning as scheduled. At least he was trustworthy. Of course he’d probably try to screw her over on the bill now that he knew she was in charge instead of her mother, who opted to pay him with a different kind of screwing. Lacy was wondering when that particular family gene would begin to kick in for her.

It had all started with her great-
great-grandmother Emma turning this place into a “respectable rooming house” back in 1874 after her husband was shot and killed over a card game. The woman had never seen this part of the country or set foot in the house before she became a widow ten minutes after arriving in town. Their story was truly unbelievable; most people thought it was just a tale made up by the family to fill rooms with guests. But Lacy had read the diaries no one else knew existed. She had found them in one of the secret passages her great-great-grandfather built into the house, tucked in an old trunk beneath some moldy dresses. She knew that Emma Schuster was a survivor and had to do whatever it took to survive in an unforgiving time.

Lacy reached out for the barn door, grasping the rough woo
den handle.  Her heart lifted as it always did entering this building and her shoulders relaxed.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Campbell?”

Lacy flinched at the name and the voice. Her shoulders balled into knots once more. She had to resist the urge to slam her forehead into the door before turning.

“Please call me Lacy, Miss Michaels.” She made an attempt at a smile but her lips rejected it. She really didn’t like this lady. No one was that perfectly put together. Maybe she was a robot or a cyborg. Lacy watched movies, it was possible.

“I prefer to keep things formal.”

Lauren’s hair didn’t move as she nodded her head. She straightened her pristine white jacket and pulled the sleeves down then swung her arm at an imaginary flying insect. Lacy thought about warning her about ticks with Lyme disease or West Nile
virus from mosquitoes, but she didn’t think that was what a good hostess did. The woman sighed without wrinkling any part of her face.

“I was wondering if you could help me with
something?” She clasped her hands in front of her, but the look in her green eyes said it was more of a demand than a request. In fact, Lacy didn’t know it was possible to go that long without blinking or looking away.

“Sure.” Lacy shut the barn door and followed in the skinny woman’s precise stride.

Chapter 3

The two women stood at the bay window in Lauren’s guest room, one like a professor beginning a lecture, the other a reluctant student in a required course.

“Here i
s the problem, Mrs. Campbell.”

Lauren indicated the open window with one hand and then r
eplaced it to its permanent position, clasped with the other. She took two steps on her high heels, making Lacy wonder if her clothes ever wrinkled or if she ever teetered on those stilts. She had no clue what the crazy woman was talking about. The screen was over the window protecting her from insects; a nice northwestern breeze was drifting in keeping the room cool. The cushion and all the pillows on the window seat were clean. Okay, maybe the one had a stain, but it was on the other side and very small.

Staring as though she were looking in the refrigerator wonde
ring what to make for dinner, Lacy inspected the area for clues. Lauren watched her with what Lacy thought to be perplexity or anticipation; it was hard to be certain.

“I’m sorry, Miss Michaels,
but I don’t understand-“

“Shhh!”

Lacy backed up with the urge to fling her hands up in surrender.

“There. Did you hear that?”

Lacy tipped her head to listen more closely for whatever mysterious noise she was supposed to be hearing, but kept a suspicious eye on her guest for fear the woman might shed her human skin and reveal metal and computers beneath. Lauren kept a silencing hand up while her eyes scanned the ceiling. It was possible she was tuning in the mother ship.

“There it was again.” She was getting excited now.

“The birds?” Lacy was scared to speak. “Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.” Lauren focused her wild gaze on Lacy.
“The birds.”

“Okay. Well,” Lacy paused,
wondering how to explain to this clearly unbalanced person that this was nature and you were bound to have birds and bees and even the occasional snake around.

“I’m afraid this simply won’t do
, Mrs. Campbell.” Lauren had transformed into the controlled being from earlier. “You’ve got to get rid of them.”

Lacy actually dropped her jaw. What the hell had she gotten herself into with these high maintenance prima donnas? Was she seriously going to have to put up with it?  First Kyle
with his flirty arrogance, now mutant Barbie and her fear of nature.
Two hundred thousand dollars plus royalties.
She had to keep repeating it to herself. It was her only hope of surviving this ordeal.

She scratched her forehead.  “What if I switched your room with someone else?”

“No. I like the light in this room and the window seat.” Lauren ran her hand over the striped pillows. “I love it.” Again she folded her hands together. Maybe it was a tic or an OCD thing. “I’d like to stay in this room. It’s just those birds.” She curled her lip and rolled her eyes to the window. “They carry diseases and they’re just so noisy I couldn’t possibly concentrate with that racket.”

What she had to concentrate on
, Lacy couldn’t imagine. She fetched Kyle’s lattes, made sure he was at important lunches and probably rubbed his shoulders if he asked her to.

“Get rid of them.” She smiled with tight lips and blinked inn
ocently. “Please.”

Lacy had a strange feeling in her gut.
“Sure, Miss Michaels. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Lacy hated being maneuvered. She stomped down the stairs wishing she could covertly teach her a lesson. She questioned how intelligent Lauren was or if she was Kyle’s assistant because she had that madwoman look in her eyes attached to a deceptively pretty face. She was surprised to find Emmylou sitting at the check-in desk twirling her hair and turning in the chair. She approached without being noticed.

“Hey.” Lacy startled her friend. She leaned over the counter resting on her folded arms.  “What’s up? Why aren’t you back at the shop? You must have orders that need shipped to Belize or something.” The confused, dubious look
Emmylou gave her threw up the red flag. Lacy reached over and laid her hand on Emmylou’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Emmylou blinked and made an effort of smiling. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” Lacy softened her tone.

“Nothing.”
Emmylou tossed her head and it appeared the cloud lifted. For the moment.

Lacy made a note to keep an eye on Emmylou
; something was wrong. Maybe it was some weird family business. Her parents weren’t exactly thrilled that their only daughter had returned home after receiving her master’s degree in business to open a coffee shop and bakery. Of course she had turned her little business into quite the money maker by putting it online and shipping custom cupcakes, pastries and her own brand of roasted coffee beans all over the world. She employed eight people, taught classes and did online business consulting. That was success in Lacy’s book.

“You aren’t afraid of heights
, are you?” Lacy grinned and quirked an eyebrow.

“Why?” Emmylou sat up straighter, staring apprehensively at Lacy.

Fifteen minutes later they were both under the towering cottonwood debating on where to put the ladder and who was going to climb it. Lacy switched the broom to her other hand, staring up into the branches and trying to locate the nest.

“I don’t see it
, do you?” She covered her eyes and squinted.

“I think it’s that branch.” Emmylou pointed up. Lacy tried to follow the path.

“That’s a Frisbee.”

“Oh.”
Emmylou plunked her hands on her hips. “Well, maybe she should come out here and get them herself.”

Lacy giggled at the scrunched and irritated face
Emmylou made. She didn’t want to be shimmying up a tree any more than Lacy did. That uptight diva was crazy and so was her demand to get rid of a family of measly old doves. It wasn’t like they were hurting anything.  Lacy heaved a sigh for the weeks of servitude yet to come.

“No. I heard them too, I just can’t see them.” Lacy tossed the broom down and mount
ed the ladder. “Guess I’ll find ’em on the way up.” She took the first few rungs before glancing back at Emmylou, who was digging out a leaf from her V-neck shirt. “Hand me the broom when I holler. Maybe I can persuade them to move to another tree.”

“Okay
,” Emmylou spoke to the ground as she shook her shirt. “I don’t know what good that’ll do. She’ll just want you to scamper up that one to get them out.” She fixed her hair and then posed with one hand on the broom and one on her hip.

Lacy laughed all the way up to the first branch that would support her weight. She grabbed hold of it and steadied herself into a standing position. A branch scratched her cheek and she cursed.  “This bitch better be satisfied when I’m through.” She thought she had mumbled it to herself but she hear
d Emmy’s soft laugh below her.

Lacy made quick work climbing the tree, pulling up to the next branch.  She hoped she would find the nest before she got to the top. She wasn’t overly fond of heights and even less fond of abrasions on her skin
, which this tree was so generously distributing. Finally, one branch up, tucked and secured in the crook of two branches was a tangled mass of twigs and grass and she could even see a tuft of polyester batting. Probably from the old blanket she threw away a couple weeks ago. Lacy reached up but the branch was an inch out of her reach.

“Damn.” She looked down for the first time and her stomach dropped
,* making her feet and hands tingle. “I don’t s’pose you can get me the broom?” She clamped her hand on the trunk to stabilize her spinning head. She was really far up; she could see into Lauren’s bedroom window now.

That window was
nearly fifteen feet in the air.

“I don’t think so
,” Emmylou called out. She was hard to see through the mass of leaves and branches.

Lacy clamped her jaw, steeled her nerves and swallowed. It didn’t work, she was still scared. “Okay.” She sounded braver than she felt. “I’ll get
’em.”

Gritting her teeth and puffing out a deep breath, she bent over holding on with a death grip and shuffling with her feet. When she could hear the cooing above her, she let go and held her arms out to steady and balance her on the
not-quite-thick-enough branch. Reaching up until her fingers grazed the bark, She snatched a smaller shoot and pulled, ripping all the leaves off until the branch with the nest lowered to her. She got a grip on it, keeping it bent.

She bit down on her tongue and the birds came into view. If she weren’t nearly frightened to death
, Lacy would laugh. The pair hunkered down, staring at her curiously
with their black eyes. 

“Sorry,
guys. I’m just serving the eviction notice.” She poked the bottom of the nest, hoping it would dislodge the little lovebirds so she could move their nest. It only succeeded in making them mad. One of them stood up and with its best attempt at squawking proceeded to lecture her while trying to peck at her face, which was disturbingly close to its beak. If she lost an eye or a finger it would take more than two hundred grand to pacify her.

Brice Campbell took that very inconvenient moment to flash through her memory. She was in this position all because her miserable ex-husband took off with all of her money. Visions of Brice’s slow death and painful dismemberment made her smile.
Bastard
. The hatred burning inside her forced her to swing her arm and get a better grip. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of dying right after the divorce was final.

“Be careful, Lace!” Emmylou’s panicked voice pierced her daydream.

Refocusing on the task, she gave one hearty jab at the nest. Her finger shot through the bottom and poked one of the soft doves.  It ruffled its feathers and fluttered out of the nest, taking flight and its spouse followed suit. Lacy let out a little victory whoop right before pulling the nest free.  She hadn’t coordinated the move and her footing slipped as the upper branch tore from her grip.  She dropped the nest, groped for it, then for any available leverage she could get as she teetered like a tightrope walker twenty stories high.

Her scream echoed in the massive expanse of prairie when she fell to the next branch. Her sweaty palms
miraculously caught hold
as her feet dangled.

“Hold on
, Lace! I’m coming for you!” Emmylou’s confidence reassured her for a moment.

“Hurry, Emmy! I can’t hold on forever
!” The strain in her voice must have scared Emmylou because the rattling of the ladder became urgent. The fact that Lacy was going to end her life at The Dove House by falling from a tree after dislodging doves wasn’t lost on her. It was all quite poetic and… stupid.  How in the hell could she have gotten herself into this ridiculous position?

“I’m coming, honey!”
Emmylou attempted to reassure her, but Lacy knew it was going to be too late.

“Hey!
Need a little help?”

Shit
. She knew that voice. Lacy closed her eyes before she tucked her chin and looked down.  There was the other bastard who had ruined her life. Kyle stood with his hands on his narrow hips, grinning up at her like a cheetah who had trapped his prey and was going to enjoy devouring it.

“No, thank you. I’m
fine,” she lied and said a prayer Emmylou would scramble up this tree a little faster.

“I would agree with that.” His grin got bigger as Lacy stared in exasperation at him.

Then realization struck her like a Mack truck and she cringed.
Could this day get any worse?
  He was looking directly up her skirt as she dangled over his head. She tried to remember which pair of underwear she had put on that morning and couldn’t come up with an answer. This was her own fault for wearing a skirt while climbing a tree and for taking those ridiculous tights off so they wouldn’t tear. All of this headache for trying to make that eccentric woman happy.

“Fine.
You can help me.”

His chuckle grated her nerves, but
Emmylou had stopped climbing when Kyle entered the scene; she wasn’t going to be any help. Lacy shot her best friend a glare she couldn’t possibly misinterpret and looked away after Emmylou shrugged and grimaced. She was probably just glad it wasn’t
her
ass dangling from a tree.

“You let go and I’ll catch you.”

Why did Lacy believe him? She shouldn’t trust anything he said, but she knew he wouldn’t drop her.

“Do you need me to count?”

What an egomaniac. “No,
”
she answered and rolled her
eyes.

It didn’t take much to let go of the tree
; her arms were strained to exhaustion. But it did hurt when she slammed into Kyle’s body. It was like dropping on top of a rock. She must have weighed more than she thought because they collapsed to the ground in a heap of grunts and ouches. It took her a moment to regain her senses and the wind that had been knocked from her lungs. Then she took mental stock of all her limbs and internal organs. Everything seemed to be in order for the most part. Until Lacy became embarrassingly aware that she was straddling him. She tried to move back but he kept her wrapped tightly against him with one arm around her back.