Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02] (24 page)

“Listen, young lady,” he said, turning on his daughter with a snarl. “I’ve tried my best to give you everything you—” he began, but she laughed out loud. The foal jumped, but she held him steady without glancing back.

“To give me what?” she asked.
“Things? Possessions?”

“I’ve given you everything,” he snapped.

“Yeah?” She laughed. “How about your time? How about honesty? How about a
mother?
”

“A . . .” He shook his head. His cheeks had reddened a little. “Listen, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Amber but—”

“Amber?”
She spat the name out like poison. “Are you kidding me?”

“She’s a very nice woman.”

“Woman!
Woman?
She’s barely older than this foal.”

“Well, at least she wouldn’t . . .” He waved a hand wildly, including the farm and a dozen other things he seemed unable to articulate. “At least she’s not a horse thief.”

Sophie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “That’s because she was too busy getting liposuction to care about anything as significant as another life.”

“Are you—” He shook his head in disbelief, then turned abruptly on Casie. “What have you done?”

“I . . .” She had no idea what to say.

“I brought my daughter here thinking you’d be a good influence on her. Thinking, foolishly, I see, that you would make her into a decent human being, not—”

“Is that what you think?” Sophie rasped. “You think I’m not even
decent?
”

He scowled, ran splayed fingers through his perfectly frosted hair. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She laughed. “No wonder you don’t want me living with you. You think I’m some kind of depraved—”

“I
do
want you living with me. In fact . . .” He raised his brows, squared his jaw. “I insist on it.”

She snorted and shook her head, but he persisted.

“Get in the car,” he ordered.

Her eyes got wide. “What?”

“Get in the car! Right now.”

“No!”

He turned to Casie again, eyes snapping with anger. “You tell her.”

“What?”

“Make her come with me.”

She took a stumbling step back, shaking her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Then I’ll call child protection and tell them you’re abusing minors.”

The air had left Casie’s lungs with a hiss of disbelief. The barn went quiet, and into that silence, Sophie dropped her bomb.

“And I’ll call Mother,” she said.

They turned toward her in unison. The anger in his eyes had banked down to dark embers. The flush had disappeared from his cheeks.

“What?” He barely breathed the word.

She raised her chin a little. “I’m sure she’d like to know about the valuables you had stashed away at the time of the divorce.”

He glanced at Casie, face pale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the twenty thousand dollars in precious metals you didn’t declare during the divorce proceedings.”

He shook his head and took a step toward her.

“I’ve got Mom on speed dial,” she said. “I bet she’s got her attorney on hers.”

“You’re mistaken,” he said.

“Then it won’t hurt to tell her about them,” she said and pulled the phone from her pocket.

He stared at her a full five seconds, then turned abruptly on his imported heel and left.

“D
id I tell you that alpaca fiber is twenty times warmer than wool?” Emily asked. She was just taking a bacon-and-apple quiche from the oven. Comfort wafted from the steaming dish, curling around her worn oven mitts, easing the tension of the trio of women seated around the table. Still, no one spoke. It had been approximately twenty-four hours since the Philip Jaegar episode. Perhaps, during that time, Sophie had come to accept the fact that Freedom would have to be returned to her former owner. Hell, maybe Linette knew, too, but if she realized the truth surrounding the mare’s strange appearance at the Lazy Windmill, she’d kept it to herself. Instead, she was sipping coffee, deeply immersed in her own thoughts.

“It’s also one-hundred-percent natural and extremely sustainable even though—”

The sound of tires on gravel stopped her words. Every eye snapped to the window. Sophie jerked to her feet, nearly tipping her fresh-squeezed apple juice as she hurried to look out.

Casie tried to wrangle in her angst, but it gnawed at her like a bad-tempered hound. Her breathlessness was probably caused by panic. After all, there was no telling who was going to show up on her front porch. Maybe the police with a warrant for her arrest, or someone to inform them that the world was about to come to an end. But maybe, just maybe, it was her last conversation with Colt that kept her most sleepless and jittery of all. “Who is it?”

Linette glanced up. “Perhaps Ty caught a ride this morning. He said he was going to hand graze Angel first thing today.”

“It’s not Ty,” Sophie said.

“Is it Colt?” Linette asked.

Casie’s chest felt tight, though she was sure she wasn’t holding her breath.

Sophie shook her head, craning her neck to peer out the kitchen window. “It looks like a woman.” She scowled. Somehow the expression was obvious even from behind. “We’re not expecting any new guests, are we?”

Casie shook her head. “Not until next week.” She took a step toward the window. “Maybe it’s the mail carrier. I heard we were getting a new one.”

“She doesn’t seem to have any mail.”

“Is it Mrs. Dickenson?” Emily asked. “She was going to drop off some fiber . . . you know . . . since it’s twenty times warmer than wool.”

“Is Colt’s mom thirty years old?”

Emily raised one shoulder. “She would have had to give birth when she was about ten if she is, but some of us don’t like to procrastinate.”

“I don’t know who it is,” Casie said, but she had a bad feeling.

Emily stepped up beside her. “Oh.” She nodded, set her worn oven mitts aside, and headed toward the door. “That’s just Mrs. Avery.”

Casie turned on her with a scowl. “What?”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Avery.” Emily retrieved her backpack from the kitchen floor and stepped into the foyer. “From the adoption center,” she said and was gone.

 

It was almost noon by the time Emily returned home. Casie had been hoping to see her alone, but Murphy’s law was still in force, it seemed, since Linette was making herself a sandwich near the sink when the girl chirped a hello and headed for the stairs.

“Emily,” Casie breathed. “Where have you been?”

She shrugged and gave a half smile. “Just went for a drive. Listen, the kid’s calisthenics have been wearing me out. My spleen feels like a punching bag. I’m going to catch a couple zz’s before I start dinner.”

“Emily!” Casie said, but the girl had already disappeared into the stairwell.

Casie exchanged a quick glance with Linette.

“Excuse me,” she said and hurried up the stairs, but Emily was already shutting the door by the time she arrived on the landing. “Emily,” she said, putting a hand on the knob. “Can I come in?” She could just see Emily’s left eye through the open door.

“I’m dogged, Case. Sorry. But I’ll get started on—”

“We need to talk.”

“Oh,” Emily said and stepped back. “Okay. What’s up?” she asked and slipped the backpack from her shoulders.

“What’s—” Casie gestured toward the front yard. This had been the longest day of her life and it wasn’t even noon yet. “Where have you been? Who’s Mrs. Avery? And what is this about an adoption agency?”

“Listen, I told you I was thinking of giving the kid up for adoption, right?”

Casie huffed a laugh and waited for the punch line, but when none was delivered, she shook her head and struggled for equilibrium. “What are you talking about? You’re not serious . . . are you?”

“Well, I’m sure not joking,” she said and plopped down onto the bed. “I mean . . .” She shook her head. “Who am I kidding? I’m not mom material. Holy shorts . . .” She laughed and made a silly face. “I’m barely
human
material.”

“Em . . .” Casie shook her head and sat down on the bed beside her. “You’re not really thinking about giving her up, are you?”

They stared at each other.

“No,” Emily said and let her shoulders slump. “I’m not thinking about it.”

Casie closed her eyes and felt the breath leave her lungs in a rush of relief. “Thank heavens.”

“I’ve decided for sure,” she said, and jumping to her feet, shoved a book into one of the neat rows on her shelves. “I mean, seriously, raising a kid’s not for wimps. It’s like . . . a job for Superman or something.”

“Emily, you can’t just—”

“Listen, this is going to work out great. The agency will pay all the hospital bills this way. I mean, do you know what it costs to have a kid these days?”

“If it’s just the money, we’ll—”

“But it’s not
just
the money, Case. It’s everything!” she said, sweeping an arm sideways to encompass the world. “I’m just figuring out this gardening thing. I want to learn to knit and spin and weave. You need help around the farm, and you know . . . who am I kidding? I’m not cut out to be a mother. I don’t have a career. Hell, I can’t even decide on a name. If it stayed with me, it would probably turn out to be a juvenile delinquent or something.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

She paused. Something passed over the girl’s face, something painful and desperate and so hopeful it almost made Casie cry, but it disappeared in a flash. “You’re so great, Case. And I owe you so much. But how am I ever going to pay you back when I’m strapped with a kid? It’s hard enough getting stuff done around here the way it is.”

“Emily . . .” She was at a loss for words for a moment and shook her head. “You can’t do this.”

“I already have,” she said and gave one quick shrug. “Listen, it’s no big. Women give up babies every day. My mom gave me up and look how well I turned out.” She laughed. The sound was short and high-pitched. “I know you’re worried, Case, but you don’t have to be. I’m fine. The baby doctor said so, and I didn’t even have to sleep with him to get a clean bill of health. Although he was kind of cute. Anyway, I’m doing great, I’m just super tired. Do you mind if I just—”

“Is it because of me? Have I made you work too hard? Are you—”

“What? No. Casie, are you kidding? You’re wonderful. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Then what?”

“Like I said, I just realized that this isn’t my gig. I mean, it’s been a blast fantasizing about it, but shi . . . shoot,” she corrected, and managed a laugh. “I’ve run out of big vocab words to feed it and—” Her voice broke. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Casie moved closer, heart aching. “Emily, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this.” The words were barely a whisper. “Geez, Casie, it’s a baby! A new life! I can barely be responsible for myself. I can’t possibly take care of someone else. I’m a liar, Case. And a thief. Did you know I’m a thief?”

“We’ve all made mistakes,” Casie said. “But what’s past—”

“It’s not in the past,” she whispered. “Not very far past, anyway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I stole your can opener.”

Casie raised her brows. “My . . . can opener?”

Emily nodded.

“Honey,” she said and ran her hand along the girl’s arm. “I used it just this morning.”

The girl shook her dreadlocks wildly as if frustrated by Casie’s inability to follow her thoughts. “Two weeks ago I was thinking of bugging out, so I took the opener. You know . . . just in case. But then I realized I’d have had to walk all the way to town and . . .” She shrugged, smoothed a palm over her belly. “I put it back.”

“You were going to leave? What—” Casie began, then shook her head, trying to get back on track. “It’s just a can opener, Em. It costs about two dollars brand new and believe me it’s not brand—”

“But that’s just the thing. I barely
have
two dollars.” Her gaze held Casie’s. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. And in their depths Casie saw a fear so deep it could suck her in. “I barely have a dime. And even if I did . . . even if I was as rich as Judas . . . or . . . or Jaegars . . .” She shook her head and exhaled a laugh. “Holy shorts, I mean, he has more money than God and even he messed up his kid.”

“I don’t think money’s the determining factor here, Em.”

“Then what is?” she snapped and jerked out of Casie’s grasp. “Having two parents?” She turned back. “The Jaegars had that. Good jobs? They had that, too. So what makes it work? Maturity? Stability? Extended family? I don’t have any of those things. They had them all, and they’re still at each other’s throats, Casie. Like wolves, like . . . like everyone I’ve ever known.” Her voice caught. “I can’t do it,” she whispered.

“But you’re not them,” Casie said. “You don’t know what’s gone wrong in their relationship. You can only hope to do better in your own.”

Emily’s eyes searched Casie’s for a second. Then she snorted. “Hope?” she said. “I’m supposed to bring a life into the world and
hope
it works out. That’s probably what
my
mom did,” she said, then exhaled heavily and straightened her back as she turned to look out the window toward the quiet pastures. “Mrs. Avery promised to find a good family.”

“You can’t—”

“Two parents. With a stay-at-home mom and a dad that’ll teach him to hit a baseball. A traditional family.” She nodded. Her expression was somber, her eyes as old as forever. “Like
Father Knows Best
or
Leave It to Beaver
or—”

“Emily—”

“Although . . .” She laughed. “I guess that last one has some weird sexual connotations these days.”

“Just wait,” Casie pleaded, rising carefully from the bed lest she frighten the girl. “Everything’s all messed up right now. You don’t have to make a decision immediately.”

For a moment Emily seemed to waver, but then she laughed. “If I wait much longer, the kid’ll be able to choose his own parents.”

“You can’t—” Casie began, then drew a deep breath and made herself count to three. “Just tell me you’ll think things through. Promise me you’ll—” she began, but Emily shook her head.

“The papers have already been signed.”

Casie felt the blood drain from her face, felt her heart clench in her chest.

“I’m sorry, Case,” Emily said and turned away. “But I really am beat. When this is all over I’m sure I’ll be able to get a lot more done. But for right now, I’d better rest up. I don’t want the kid’s new parents to think I deprived him somehow.”

“Emily—”

“Please,” she said, and there was such desperation in her voice, such mind-numbing hopelessness, that Casie nodded once and turned away. The door felt heavy when she pulled it open.

The stairs groaned as she made her way down them.

Sophie had joined Linette by the sink. They turned toward her in unison.

Casie blinked, dazed. “Did you know anything about this, Soph?”

“About what?”

“This.” She gazed sightlessly at the stairs. “The adoption.”

Sophie pulled her perfect features into a scowl. “She’s not really going through with it.”

Casie drew a deep breath, searching for balance. “She says she signed the papers.”

Sophie shook her head. “She’s lying,” she said. “That’s what she does.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?” Linette asked. Her face was crumpled with worry. “Why now?”

Casie stifled a wince, but couldn’t quite manage to keep her gaze from straying back to Sophie.

The girl’s eyes went wide even before Casie managed to shift her own away. “It’s because of me,” she said.

Casie shook her head, ready to deny, retreat, lie, even though she would never have the talent Emily possessed.

“It’s because of my dad and me, isn’t it?” she demanded.

“No. She’s just . . .” Casie struggled with a denial. She was sure there was far more to the situation than witnessing one simple argument. Hell, if she had made life-changing decisions based on her parents’ fights, her entire life would have been dictated by arguments. Then again, maybe it had been. “She’s just scared. I’m sure she’ll change her mind once she gets some sleep,” she said, but she was just spouting platitudes. She had no reason to believe such tripe. Emily was as predictable as a tornado.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Linette said, but her eyes looked haunted.

They turned toward her like she’d grown a spare head. “What?”

“Parenting isn’t easy. Who’s to say this isn’t the best thing for Emily
and
the baby?”

They said nothing.

“I mean, she’s so young.” She winced. “Maybe she wants a career. To be an attorney or . . . something.” Her voice had gone very soft. Her hands were shaking. “She’s very bright. She deserves to have a life.”

“Linette . . .” Casie said and took a step forward, but the older woman backed away.

“I think Colt’s here for my lesson,” she said and escaped out the door.