Our Now and Forever (Ardent Springs #2) (9 page)

“Are you sure this is the one?” Caleb asked, turning the tiny ring between two fingers to catch the light. Hattie had put him in a small ladies’ parlor before disappearing up the stairs and returning moments later with a cream-colored jewelry box.

“I’m sure,” Hattie said, balancing the box on her lap. “That ring has Snow written all over it.”

The round diamond, held in place by four prongs and accented by six smaller stones on each side,
was
dainty, understated, and beautiful. Just like his wife.

“The band is platinum,” Hattie explained. “Aunt Edith gave it to me when I turned sixteen. Her first husband had been killed in World War II, and when she remarried, her second husband gave her a new ring.” The older woman’s voice turned wistful. “I think seeing this in her jewelry box every day reminded her of Uncle Harry and what she’d lost. They’d been so in love, those two.”

Caleb had no doubt he could afford whatever price Hattie asked, but now he knew there was sentimental value involved. “I don’t want to take something so personal,” he said. “I’ll make a trip down to Nashville tomorrow.”

Hattie waved his words away. “I’ll hear nothing of the sort. That ring is meant to be worn, not sit in a box forever. Besides,” she added, “I can’t take it with me.”

From what little time he’d spent with Hattie Silvester, Caleb surmised she was as healthy as he was. But not all ailments were obvious. “Are you planning on meeting your maker sometime soon?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she said, “My luck, I’ll still be kicking around this old place twenty years from now. That doesn’t change the fact that Snow deserves this ring.”

The delicate piece continued to sparkle as he held it closer to the window. “What do you want for it?”

“It’s worth about five thousand,” Hattie said, shrugging as she answered. “Give me whatever you can afford.”

Caleb could afford twice that much. “How do you feel about monthly payments?” He’d simply pay the small amount for the first month or two, then hand over a large check before he and Snow left for home.

“Like I said, pay me what you can afford.” The older woman placed several small satchels back in the long jewelry box and latched the intricately decorated lid in place. “Say, do you know anything about the newspaper business?”

Considering his father owned three of them and he’d interned at each, the answer was obvious. But again, he didn’t know what story Snow wanted him to tell. This lying business was more trouble than it was worth. Which was why he’d never made a habit of it.

“I know a little, I guess,” Caleb said, deciding that understatement was better than a lie.

“Good.” Hattie set the jewelry box on the desk and scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Be at this address at nine tomorrow morning.”

Caleb took the note and read 121 Second Avenue North. “What is this?” he asked.

“You want a job or not?” she asked.

He’d told Snow he’d get a job, and working for a newspaper was better than slinging a hammer, but Caleb didn’t know what Hattie expected him to do. Journalism was not his arena, but the paper could be hiring a delivery boy for all he knew.

“I appreciate your help, but I don’t know what you’re offering. And you don’t even know if I’m qualified.”

She once again waved his words away. “You’ll be fine. Now we have more work to do,” she said, charging out of the small sitting room.

“Excuse me?” Caleb said, following after her.

“It isn’t often I have a little muscle around here,” she said over her shoulder. “Keep up and we’ll earn you the first installment on that ring before the day is out.”

Chapter 9

“Mama, if you’ll just listen—”

“Don’t you
Mama
me, young lady. Do you know what you put your family through? We were worried sick.” Snow had hoped that after eighteen months Roberta Cameron would be too happy to hear from her to launch into a full-on scolding.

Snow had hoped wrong.

“Running away from a good man like that. Leaving us behind to look like fools, trying to make excuses for our daughter’s rash behavior. I
know
I taught you better than that. I have never been so humiliated in my life.”

No concern over what had driven Snow to her “rash behavior,” as Mama called it. No sympathy or compassion for the daughter who’d been distraught enough to stay in hiding for more than a year. None of that maternal stuff for Snow’s mother.

“I shouldn’t have taken off like that,” Snow said, “but I had a good reason. Aren’t you at all interested in why I left?”

“Do you know that boy has called me every month like clockwork?” Roberta asked. “I could mark it on my calendar and know exactly when I’d hear from him. But I never knew if or when I’d hear from my daughter.”

Pounding her head on the wall behind her, Snow said, “I sent messages, Mama. I even sent presents on holidays and birthdays. You knew I was okay the whole time.”

“As if a pretty teacup would make up for not having you here.” That teacup was Wedgwood, for Pete’s sake. “If you wanted to leave that boy, though heaven only knows what woman in her right mind would, you could have come here.”

“I needed to go somewhere that Caleb couldn’t find me,” she said. “We aren’t right for each other, Mama. Getting married was a mistake, and I couldn’t spend one more minute in that house.”

Snow had hit her limit of toxic hatred from her in-laws, both back at the time and now.

“Marriage isn’t an easy thing, Snow. You had to know that.”

If anyone knew that, it was Snow. A child didn’t grow up in the Cameron household, with the screaming and fighting, empty cupboards and an emptier house, without learning that lesson. Somewhere around the age of ten, she’d started questioning why her mother stayed.

Her parents may have been in love at some point, but they sure didn’t like each other. Zeke Cameron was a man with too much pride who couldn’t keep a job long enough to fill out his first time card, and he had little patience for a wife who pointed out his faults on a daily basis.

“I don’t have any illusions about marriage,” Snow said. She hadn’t been given enough time to even think about marriage before she and Caleb had tied the knot. “But I refuse to stay in a situation that isn’t right.”

Her mother’s voice sharpened. “How could you know if it was right or not? Did you even give it a chance? Two months? You think two months is time enough to know anything?”

“Fine,” Snow said. “I screwed up. I can’t go back and change it now. I’m sorry that you were worried. I’m sorry that you were left to explain my actions. I never meant for anyone to have to speak for me.”

“That’s why you stick around and speak for yourself.” The voice on the other end finally softened. “Are you really okay, honey?”

This was the mother Snow needed.

“I am. Well, I’m working on it. Caleb found me yesterday.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Now you kids can straighten this mess out.”

“There’s nothing to straighten out, Mama.” Snow kept her voice low as she smiled at a customer passing the counter. “He’s old Baton Rouge money, and I’m no Birmingham money. He’s upstairs, I’m downstairs.”

“Don’t you ever talk like that. I may have cleaned houses a time or two, but this isn’t the nineteenth century. You’re just as good as those McGraws.” Her mother huffed. “Better if you ask me. I like that husband of yours, but his parents are another story.”

And therein lay Snow’s problem. Caleb and his parents were a package deal. She couldn’t have one without the other two, and she couldn’t bear life with the other two.

“Caleb seems to agree with you,” Snow said. “He thinks we can make this work, but he’s wrong. He’ll realize that before Christmas, and when he agrees to end this marriage once and for all, I’ll let you know.”

“Give it a chance, baby. That boy cares about you.”

If only things were that easy.

Shifting the subject away from her tattered marriage, Snow said, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to come see you for a while. I run a store here in Ardent Springs, and it’s impossible to get away during the holiday shopping season.”

“You run a store? As in manage it?”

“No, I own it,” she said. “It’s called Snow’s Curiosity Shop, and Grandma would love it. Everything from art deco jewelry to antique furniture and fabrics. A lot of it is on consignment, but I keep an eye on auctions and estate sales to fill in the rest.”

“You did all this on your own?” her mother asked, the wonder in her voice heightening Snow’s pride.

“I did. It’s something special, Mama. Maybe you all can come up and see it sometime.”

“We’ll see,” she said, though her tone gave a clear answer. “Your father’s health isn’t that good, and money’s tight.”

“What’s wrong with Daddy?” Snow asked, fear jerking her upright. “Is he okay?” The man may not have been a great breadwinner, or all that touchy-feely, but he was still her father.

“Don’t get yourself worked up. His lungs just aren’t as strong as they used to be. Doc thinks the fumes from his years of house painting are to blame.”

Sometime during Snow’s high school years, her father had started his own house painting business, and thanks to being his own boss, stuck with it. He never made much money, but being his own man had made him easier to live with.

“Maybe I can come down between Christmas and New Year’s,” Snow said.

“You and Caleb are always welcome.”

“Mama . . .”

“Like I said, just give him a chance. The fact that he’s there should tell you something, baby. That boy’s a keeper.”

That boy needed to go home. Alone. And by Christmas, Snow would make sure he did.

Several hours later, Snow parked her red Nissan next to Caleb’s Jeep in front of Miss Hattie’s garage, but she didn’t bother getting out. Instead, she stared unseeing through the windshield, contemplating how to handle the next few minutes. She’d agreed to Caleb’s terms. He had a month to change her mind. Only no matter how he tried, Snow would have to let him go. Which had been her intention all along, but when she was with him, her determination wavered.

And this had been the reason she’d run away in the first place. Snow knew, with every ounce of her being, that she and Caleb were not meant to be, but then he’d smile or say the right thing and her misgivings went right out the window. If she’d told him she was unhappy, he’d have convinced her things would get better. If she’d asked for a divorce, Caleb’s easy charm would have had her begging to stay before she’d known what she was saying. She couldn’t reason with him, and she couldn’t keep her heart out of the equation when he was around.

But in the end, she couldn’t hurt him. Not the kind of hurt that would come with learning his own mother had kept her secret. When Snow had been certain that notice of the end of their marriage would come in the mail at any time, she didn’t have to think about the mess she’d created. Regardless of what some Louisiana law said, she’d had no intention of taking a dime from Caleb. She only wanted to give him his life back and let him move on to find the right girl.

The society princess who would give him perfect babies, throw perfect dinner parties, and please his persnickety parents.

Vivien McGraw likely had a batch of Southern debutantes ready and willing to fill Snow’s shoes. Picturing her husband showing off his new bride—tall and slender with the body of an underwear model, waves of blonde hair dancing around her shoulders, and proof of pedigree in her dainty clutch—made her nearly toss what little salad she’d managed to swallow for lunch.

Snow’s grandmother’s voice echoed through her mind. “Rip it quick and sure, baby. Draggin’ it out only makes it worse.”

That’s what she needed to do. Walk inside and send Caleb back where he belonged. This one-month thing had been pointless from the start. She’d revert to her original plan. Be impossible to live with until he couldn’t hit the road fast enough.

Her mind set, Snow climbed out of the car, marched through the garden gate and up her porch steps. He’d left the light on for her, something that softened the girlish section of her brain. She hardened her heart. A little light didn’t mean anything. Caleb needed to go.

With one final deep breath for courage, Snow opened and stepped through her front door ready to be the shrew of all shrews. Except there was no one in sight. It wasn’t as if her apartment was so big that Caleb could hide somewhere. His Jeep was outside, so he had to be here. The scent of something spicy and mouthwatering filled her senses, pulling Snow toward the kitchen.

Lifting the lid on the pot simmering on the stove, she couldn’t believe her eyes. How did Caleb know how to make chicken and dumplings?

“Hattie sent that over,” Caleb said, startling Snow into dropping the lid with a clang.

She looked up to find him standing in the doorway to her bedroom wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. Her heart rate skipped to double time as heat danced up her spine.

“You talked to Hattie?” she asked, struggling to keep her eyes above his chin.

“Spent the day with her,” he said. Noticing he was dripping on the carpet, he added, “Hold on. I need another towel.”

You need to get some freaking clothes on,
Snow thought, leaning on the counter for support. Her knees didn’t seem up to the task of keeping her upright. Closing her eyes tight, she mumbled, “I can do this. Just stay strong, Snow. Stay strong.”

The words weren’t really helping, but she repeated them silently all the same. Caleb emerged from the bedroom once again, this time with another towel around his neck that he was using to squeeze the water from his hair.

“That’s an interesting landlady you have there,” he said, crossing to the counter as if he weren’t half-naked and they were some happily married couple who did this every day.

“Landlady?” Snow asked, her brain not functioning on all cylinders.

Caleb retrieved a glass from the second shelf. “Miss Hattie. The woman in the big house attached to this one?”

“Right,” Snow said, stepping into the small living room in the hopes that more distance between them would cool her awakened libido. “Miss Hattie.” The distance helped enough for his previous statement to sink in. “Wait. You spent the day with Miss Hattie?”

“Not voluntarily,” he said, pouring himself a large glass of milk. “Not at first, anyway.”

Snow removed her coat and threw it over the back of a chair. “Are you saying my landlady forced you to spend time with her? I find that hard to believe.”

Hattie Silvester, as far as Snow knew, had little time or patience for the males of the species. Why Caleb, a complete stranger, would be an exception to the rule was beyond Snow. She could see a younger woman fawning over his pretty face, but not Miss Hattie.

“
Forced
isn’t the word I’d use. More like . . . steamrolled.” Caleb flexed
his shoulders, which caused the towel to dip half an inch lower on his hips.

Snow’s mouth went dry.

“She caught me in the driveway when I came back after dropping you off,” he said, “and the next thing I knew, I was hauling paint cans and canvases up and down her stairs.”

None of this was making sense. The part about Hattie steamrolling someone computed just fine, but Caleb? And him doing manual labor? There was no way. Then again, maybe if the man in her kitchen would put on some clothes, Snow could think straight.

“Did you tell her who you are?” Snow asked.

“About that,” Caleb said after taking a drink of the milk. “We need to get this story straight. I don’t like lying to people, especially not someone like the nice old lady next door.”

Oh no. “What did you tell her?” Snow demanded, charging back into the kitchen.

“Relax,” he said, setting his glass on the counter. “I said I was your fiancé, but then she asked since when. I panicked and said two weeks.”

If he hadn’t insisted they include the engagement part, the time frame wouldn’t be an issue. “What did Hattie say?”

Caleb crossed his arms as he leaned a hip on the counter. “She did the math and assumed I’d asked you to marry me over the phone or e-mail.”

“This is a complete mess,” Snow said.

“I fixed it,” he argued, holding his hands up in front of him. “I told her I hadn’t done the official down-on-one-knee proposal thing yet because I don’t have a ring.”

Snow tapped her foot against the weight of mounting lies. The life she’d built was being twisted into some crazy work of fiction. How was she going to unravel all the lies after Caleb left? Would she even remember them all?

“You need to go,” she said, panic fogging her brain. “This marriage is over.”