One Mountain Away (34 page)

She stopped speaking, and Analiese didn’t interrupt her thoughts.

Finally Charlotte began again.

“After that Gwen was with me almost every time I woke up, although not when the doctors or nurses were. I thought they probably chased her back to bed when they came in. I couldn’t figure out how she could be well enough to get up and come to me, and still sick enough to be on that wing. But when they were finished doing all those truly awful things they do to you in hospitals and they left, Gwen would come back. I was so sick that sometimes I thought she was my grandmother, and other times I could see she wasn’t. She held my hand and talked to me about my life and how I needed to be strong, because I was absolutely right, there were things I needed to do, people I needed to be with again.”

Analiese took her hand, the way Charlotte had just told her Gwen had taken it, and this time she didn’t let go. “And she was right.”

Charlotte squeezed it. “This is so hard to tell.”

“I can only imagine.”

“On day five—I was told that later—I woke up and the lights were on. Things weren’t shadowy anymore. Everything had cleared, and for the first time I was really aware of where I was and what was going on. A nurse was beside the bed, and she asked me some questions, like my name and why I was in the hospital, and she seemed delighted I knew the answers. It was clear I’d come through something pretty major. She started to leave, and I managed to put my hand out and take her arm. I asked her where Gwen was, and she looked puzzled. Gwen, I said, the woman in the next bed. She just shook her head and left.”

“What do you think that meant, Charlotte?”

“I never had the courage to bring it up again. If Gwen really had been there, if she died and her bed was taken away with her in it, I didn’t want to know. If Gwen had never been there?” She shook her head.

“You know there can be many explanations, don’t you?”

“I do.” Charlotte turned to face Analiese, but she continued to hold her hand. She couldn’t have let go if she’d been ordered to.

She swallowed, because her throat was raw now. “Here’s the explanation I prefer. Someone or something came to me and helped me face the emptiness of my life. Maybe it was another patient or a chaplain or a staff member named Gwen. Maybe it was my imagination, spurred on by your story about Kuan Yin, the goddess of mercy, that Sunday morning.”

“An anonymous goddess,” Analiese said. “The very best kind. The kind who would come to your hospital bed and not reveal who she was. The kind you’re trying to be yourself.”

Charlotte swallowed again, but this time she swallowed tears. “I’ll never know for sure. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the drugs I was given, or a result of being so close to death, or a way to retreat into myself during a terrible, terrible time. Maybe I was just ready for the first time to see who I had become. But whatever happened to me during that week? Gwen was the greatest gift I’ve ever received.”

Chapter Thirty

HARMONY HAD FOUND a friend in Marilla Reynolds. Rilla was ten years older than she was and the mother of two beautiful little boys, but she never treated Harmony as anything but a contemporary. Also, she was a fighter, which Harmony admired and envied, since for the most part the fight had been drained out of her as a child.

Marilla wasn’t yet able to do much by herself, but she never complained, and she worked so hard at rehabilitation that her physical therapist had been forced to set limits so she wouldn’t complicate her own recovery. She’d graduated to a morning health care aide and was managing by herself in the afternoons, unless friends came to see her.

And friends came to see her often.

Today she and Harmony were deep in the preliminary stages of making jam in Rilla’s spacious country kitchen. Harmony had picked and washed the last of a flourishing strawberry crop from Rilla’s abandoned garden, passing full colanders to Rilla, who was comfortably propped at the table hulling and cutting out bad spots. A neighbor was coming later to help her prepare the jam and get it into jars.

Harmony had decided that
lively
was the best adjective to describe her new friend. Rilla had a square face, with a short nose that was most often wrinkled and a wide mouth that was most often smiling. She had a sturdy body with wide shoulders and hips, the kind that looked most at home in jeans and boots. Every thought she had showed on her face, and if it wasn’t perfectly clear there, she made it clear when she spoke. Rilla was upbeat and positive, even under these difficult circumstances, but she was also painstakingly honest, as if every word had to be weighed before it was uttered.

“I can’t believe I didn’t put in a garden this year,” Rilla said. She had brown hair that curled around her ears and over her collar, and now she brushed a spiraling strand off her damp forehead. Even hulling the berries was clearly an effort.

“You plant one every year?”

“More than one. I have a perennial vegetable garden—that’s where the strawberries were—and there are asparagus, rhubarb and raspberries, too. Then, starting early in the spring in my regular garden, I put in peas, potatoes, onions, broccoli, salad greens, you know, and keep planting until midfall. I had my onion sets and seed potatoes all ready to put in, too. I bet Brad fed them to the goats.”

“Goats?”

“Toggenburgs. They’re so beautiful. And gentle. Like babies. When they come back, you’ll fall in love.”

“I don’t know how you keep up with everything, even when you’re feeling great. Kids, goats, garden, chickens, and then the kennel. I can’t imagine how I’m going to keep up with a baby, much less all that.”

“Don’t forget the horses.”

“Yikes.”

Rilla reached over and patted her hand. “You’re going to do great. You have energy and commitment, and you’re a born nurturer. Besides, you’ll have your husband to help you.”

Harmony tried to imagine that part and couldn’t. Maybe she was selling Davis short, but she couldn’t picture him changing a diaper or rocking a baby to sleep.

“How did you know you wanted all this?” Harmony asked. “Did you just slip into it?” Her own future was strictly a one-day-at-a-time affair.

“Brad and I talked about the future when he was in law school,” Rilla said. “He loves the law, and he loves farming. I just love farming. So we figured he could be a lawyer and a hobby farmer, and I’d fill in everything else. It’s a lot of work, but we love this life, and so do the boys.”

“I love being out here. It’s so peaceful.” Harmony took a seat at the table and started hulling the berries in the final colander. “There’s a difference between quiet like this and the kind of quiet we had at home when I was a kid. That was a tiptoe quiet, the kind when you’re afraid if you make noise, something terrible will happen. This? It’s a be-still-and-listen quiet. I could get into that.”

“Why don’t you come out again tomorrow? The boys’ll be back, and you’ll finally get to meet them. My mother’s bringing dinner, and she won’t mind a guest. Afterward we can sit out on the porch, and you can see how loud it can get in the evening with the frogs and the crickets. It’s still peaceful somehow.”

“I would love to, only my…” Harmony still couldn’t say fiancé. It just didn’t seem possible she and Davis were actually about to plan a wedding. “My boyfriend and I are supposed to look at rings. His firm’s having a dinner at the Asheville Country Club, and he’d like to announce our engagement there.”

“You must be so excited.”

Harmony didn’t feel excited, and she wasn’t sure why. Davis had jumped through a series of hoops to prove he was serious about a long-term commitment. She had driven the new SUV here today, and the car was proof positive. All the things she’d so worried about were never coming to pass now. She and the baby would be taken care of. Once she could leave the baby for a few hours each day, Davis even wanted her to go back to school for a two-year degree.

“Maybe Brad can give me some advice,” she said, to change the subject. “I’m thinking I might like to become a paralegal. I’d really like to be a lawyer, but that’s probably too much to ask.”

“Why?”

“I doubt Davis would like that kind of competition.” She wasn’t sure where they had come from, but Rilla just nodded.

“He likes to be the big cheese?”

Harmony was afraid he did. “How about Brad? Is he like that?”

“Not really.”

“It’s not a good thing, is it?”

“Every relationship is different.”

Harmony wondered. One minute she thought she’d made the right decision when she said yes to Davis, the next she wasn’t sure. He wanted to marry quickly, before the pregnancy was readily apparent. People would still know the truth if they counted backward, but only the stodgiest would care.

“Why law?” Rilla asked.

“Well, if I could do anything, I’d like to find ways of protecting women. You know, from violence, from people who take advantage of them, maybe even help change the laws, so they have more recourse.”

Rilla, who knew about Harmony’s childhood, clearly didn’t have to ask why. “Not social work?”

“No. The law can be a powerful tool in the hands of a powerful woman.”

“Wow.”

Harmony looked up and smiled sheepishly. “Not to say I’d be one. A powerful woman, I mean. But I guess that would be my hope. If I could live that life, I mean.”

“I think you can live any life you choose.”

“Maybe.”

“Of course I didn’t choose this,” Rilla said. “I sure didn’t intend to land flat on my back in the hospital. But now I’ll just have to find a different route to the things I want.”

“Like what?”

“First I want to get my kids back, of course. And I want to get my animals back. And my gardens back. And my life back!” She drew a breath, then blew it out. “But all in good time. I know it’s going to happen. I just have to keep my eye on the prize.”

An hour later Harmony thought about that as she headed into town and Cuppa. Her most immediate goal was making sure her baby was well taken care of, and once she was married to Davis, she knew it would be. But was she selling herself short? Was she selling Davis short? If they sat down and she told him she might like to go to law school eventually, would he surprise her?

By the time she checked in, Cuppa was filling up. Ray was featuring a special appetizer menu, so their happy hour crowd had grown, along with the restaurant’s beer and wine list. She had already changed at Rilla’s, so she went straight to Stella to tell her she was there and ready to go.

“Take over table six right now, would you?” Stella asked. “I took over for Rolfe. He was overwhelmed. If this keeps up, we may need to get you in here half an hour sooner.”

Harmony hoped that wouldn’t come to pass. Happy hour was a bust for tips. She washed her hands, then headed for the four-top, which was in the center of the room. She introduced herself and told them she would finish taking care of them. The group was made up of young women, older than she was, but not by much. She took an order for more drinks and promised a basket of Ray’s miniblintzes. One woman looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until half an hour later, when the happy hour crowd had thinned and she was preparing for the dinner rush, that the young woman approached her.

“Anne Sanders,” she said, holding out her hand. She was petite, dark-haired and sure of herself. “I was trying to remember why you looked familiar. Davis Austin is your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

Now Harmony realized where she had seen the woman. “And your boyfriend works for the firm, too. But I’ve forgotten his name.”

“Ricky. Ricky Brown.”

Harmony took her hand, although shaking seemed a little formal under the circumstances. “Nice to see you again.”

“I didn’t know you worked here. I love this place.”

“It’s a good place to work.”

“Are you going to that fancy dinner at the club at the end of the month?” Anne made a face when she asked, letting Harmony know her opinion.

“I guess we are.”

“I guess we’d better, huh? I’m sure Davis is getting the same talking-to that Ricky is.”

Harmony nodded, as if she understood. “You mean about showing up for events they sponsor?”

“Well, that’s pretty tactful. More like showing up so they can watch us under a microscope.”

Harmony wanted to know what Anne really meant, but she wasn’t sure coming right out and asking was a good idea. Sometimes pretending to be in on a secret was the best way to get information.

“Do you feel that way, too?” she asked, with a conspiratorial smile.

“Well, Ricky tells me every time somebody gives him a talking-to.” Anne pretended to mimic a partner with a deep, deep voice. “‘The firm’s reputation in the community. The kind of young men and women we want representing us. The values this firm holds dear. The values our clients hold dear.’”

“Scary, huh?” Harmony said.

Anne ceased the imitation. “If you ask me, that’s what it’s all about. They represent the most traditional residents of the city, and they live in fear someone might get a tattoo or wear sandals to work or have an affair with somebody else’s wife. If you ask me, they’re looking to cull the herd.”

“Herd?”

“Ricky thinks they need to tighten up and fire a few people here and there. They’re trying to figure out who fits in and who might be a problem in the future.” She lowered her voice. “He even wonders if they’ve hired a pro to do some checking.”

“No. Really?”

“Think about it. If they get the wrong kind of person, or keep the wrong kind of person, and realize it too late, either their reputation suffers or they have a lawsuit on their hands when they try to get rid of him. And I say
him,
because if you’ve noticed, not very many women get moved up.” Anne seemed sure she wouldn’t get an argument about that.

“You’re right,” Harmony said, although she hadn’t paid attention at the few events she’d been part of. “Does Ricky feel safe?”

“Ricky’s kind of a free spirit.”

Harmony got the impression this meant two things. One, that Ricky was already looking for a job where he would be happier. Two, that if Ricky didn’t take on that particular task himself, while he was still gainfully employed, he might have to do it once he wasn’t anymore. Probably in the foreseeable future.