Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10 (2 page)

They took lunch sitting on the wet deck, swaying with the boat, surrounded by buoys, bait, and a fair amount of lobster. Seagulls swarmed in circles above, calling loudly for a handout. Lunch consisted of baked beans, large slices of bread, and canned fruit.

“I think it’s only fair you start taking a cut of my earnings,” Peter said as he took a bite of bread. “For feeding me lunch every day.”

Ian shook his head at the suggestion. “My cut’s already gone up just havin’ ye wi’ me. ‘Sides, my wife’s happy to do it. If it were a burden, I’d say something.”

Peter believed Ian would. He seemed like a straightforward kind of man. He didn’t put on airs and he didn’t take advantage. Regardless, Peter didn’t like the idea of charity, even as he reached for more bread.

“Have ye found a suitable place to live?” Ian asked, talking with his mouth full.

Peter squinted. “No. I haven’t had time to really look around.”

While the hours were long on the boat, Ian doubted this was true.

“Ye know, it’s none of my business really, but I was wondering if ye were aware of the talk that’s brewing ‘round town about ye two.”

“What kind of talk?”

“Oh, that you’re livin’ together out of wedlock.” Ian grinned. “Has the knittin’ groups all in a stir. Tongues a clackin’, needles flyin’. It’s quite the sight from what I hear.”

Peter nearly choked on his bread. “People think we’re… together?”

“Well, yes. What else are they supposed to think? Ye are livin’ there. How are folks supposed to know what goes on behind closed doors?”

“I suppose they’d assume the worst. Or the most scandalous.”

“Of course they would. I thought I’d mention it before it grows too out of control. Ye might want to step up yer efforts to find a home before Muzzy’s reputation is ruined completely.”

Peter dug into his can of beans, brows furrowed. Of course, ruining Muzzy was the last thing he wanted. But the second last thing he wanted was to have to move out of Muzzy’s office. It was starting to feel like home.

***

As soon as Caleb stepped inside, he could tell all was not well in his household.

“Where are the children?” he asked.

“Claire and Ava took them out back to play. She did it again,” Arianna said, leaning against the sink, hardly looking up at him. He didn’t have to ask who had done what.

He touched the back of David’s shoulder. It would have been a slap in happier times, but the mood in this room was dark and heavy. “Good to see you again, David.”

“You, too. This is my wife, Loretta.”

She extended a hand and a polite smile. “So glad to finally meet you.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you, ma’am.”

“And I’ve heard everything about you. I wanted to thank you personally for helping David earn enough to get to us and bring us home.”

“He helped us a great deal more with my mother. We’re the ones who are grateful.”

“WHAT are we going to do about Ethel?” Arianna asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Caleb looked from her to David. “I thought we were dealing with it by putting her in her room when she has these episodes?”

“That’s not a solution anymore.”

“Why not?” Caleb asked.

Arianna dropped her hand and pushed off the sink. “Why not? Why not! Because she’s getting worse! Today she stripped down naked and stood in the kitchen screaming. Then she bit a chunk out of Ava’s arm. She
bit
her, Caleb! If David hadn’t come when he did, I don’t know that we would have been able to get her upstairs.” Arianna was seething while Caleb stood, his mouth moving like a fish out of water.

“Can I talk to you outside?” David asked with a nod. Caleb was happy to get out from under Arianna’s furious glare. She threw herself into a chair next to Loretta as they left.

Caleb could see Ava and Claire in the distance, chasing the children around the grove of blueberry trees. Their shrieks and giggles echoed down the sloped land. He and David were nearly to the barn when David finally spoke. “You’re not going to like what I have to say, Caleb.”

“I can’t send her away.”

“Your wife can’t handle this anymore. You’re going to have to make a choice.”

Caleb lolled his head. It was the most impossible of choices for a man.

“There has to be a way for us to—”

“There is no us, Caleb. This is her. You’re in the barn, and in the field, and running into town. She’s here dealing with this.”

“You don’t understand. It was in my father’s will that my mother is to live here for the remainder of her days. I have to honor that.”

“If it were me, I’d consider that a final wish, not a command. Your father had no way of knowing your mother would deteriorate so quickly and become a danger to herself and your family.”

Caleb scuffed at the dirt and avoided David’s eyes. “I can’t afford it. Coming home was a gamble, and, to be honest, we’ll be lucky to get through the first couple of years. It’s tighter than a vice as it is. Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“There are other options. We could see about getting her admitted to the asylum as a charity case—”

“No.”

The back door swung open fast, banging against the wall behind it. “Caleb!” Arianna called in a short burst.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Loretta and I have an idea. Come sit down and listen.”

Caleb was happy to entertain any idea that didn’t involve doing something he morally couldn’t stand and financially couldn’t afford.

Arianna got right to the point.

“What if you built a small house out back or on the other side of the barn? We could hire someone for room and board, maybe a small stipend to live there with Ethel and take care of her. She’d be a stone’s throw away, and we could keep an eye on her and our house will be peaceful again.” She sat with wide eyes and arched brows waiting for his reaction. He was slow to give one.

“It would be less expensive than placing her somewhere,” David said, looking at Caleb. “And your wife is right—you need to bring peace and order back to your home. At least, this way, you could still honor your father’s wishes.”

Caleb let the idea roll around, debating heavily.

“With so many people out of work, I know we’d have no shortage of applicants. I mean, a free home and meals! Who’d turn that down?”

“Who knows what kind of person we’d get. I don’t want just anyone living on my land, caring for my mother and so close to my family.”

“We’d interview, screen, and ask for references,” Arianna said, dismissing his concern. “It’s a good idea.”

He’d have to build a house, which was no small thing. Where he’d get the money, materials, and manpower for that, he had no idea. It was a decent compromise though.

Slowly, he began nodding his head. “I’m not sure how I’ll pull it off with everything else I have to do. But we can try.”

Relief washed over Arianna and she slid down a few inches in her chair. “I’m so glad you agree. Because if you hadn’t, I was going to make plans to leave with the children.”

Caleb sobered, staring at her.

“You can’t expect me to keep living this way,” she said defensively. “And it would only be until you found a way to fix the problem.”

David and Loretta exchanged an uncomfortable look.

“I think we’d better talk about this after our company has gone home,” Caleb said coldly.

“There’s nothing to talk about now. You agreed to build a place and hire a caretaker, so I don’t have to resort to drastic measures.”

He continued to glare at her.

David cleared his throat. “Why don’t we walk around outside, and I’ll help you pick a spot for the house?” he asked, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape.

“Sure,” Caleb said quietly, his eyes still pinned on Arianna.

***

Muzzy was late or what Peter considered late. He wondered where she had been all evening and reminded himself it was none of his business as he turned the four pieces of chicken over in the frying pan. He’d tidied up the back room which served as her living quarters and had taken the liberty to make something for dinner. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes (he was sick of bread) and raw spinach for a salad. For dessert, peaches brought up by train from Georgia. Muzzy didn’t keep normal hours, and he never knew when she was coming or going. He hoped she wouldn’t be gone half the night, which sometimes happened. He’d cooked for two and didn’t want anything to go to waste.

He heard her motorbike rumble close to the back door and smiled with a breath of relief. A moment later, she walked in with her paper bag slung around her back and her goggles hanging from her neck. She sniffed. Then she saw the spread of food being prepared.

“Did you rob a bank or something?”

He laughed. “I thought I’d make dinner to repay your kindness of letting me stay here.”

“Ahh,” she said slowly, watching his every move. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

“I know I blew a lot of cash on dinner, but I still have enough to pay you some rent.”

“I’m not so concerned about you paying
me
rent,” she said, pulling off her bag and jacket as she crossed the room. “I’m more concerned about you paying your
own
rent. It takes a savings to start out in a place of your own. Are you making headway on that?”

Peter stiffened and forced an even, relaxed tone.

“Oh, sure. Saving slow and steady. I don’t make a lot on the boat, you know, so I’m doing what I can.”

Muzzy kicked off her shoes wanting to say more but was unsure how to do so. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to leave. If they were to evenly split expenses, it would be more money she could invest in her business.

Sitting on her bedroll, she watched Peter.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I’ve made things,” he said.

“You’ve made bread and butter… and oatmeal.”

“Well, I can make other things, too.” He held up a crispy chicken thigh fresh from the pan. “Any more questions?”

She grinned. “I’m a reporter. That’s practically all I do. And at the moment, my only question is when will that be ready?”

Her stomach growled audibly, and a moment later, he handed her a plate.

“When did you eat last?” he asked, sitting on the floor a few feet from her as he balanced his plate on his leg.

“The oatmeal you made this morning,” she said, wasting no time biting into the steaming hot thigh.

“We should get a table and chairs,” Peter mentioned casually.

Muzzy stopped mid-chew. “We? Table and chairs?”

“Aren’t you tired of sitting on the floor when we eat?”

“I don’t often eat enough to justify a table and chairs. Besides, there’s not enough room back here.”

“You could have it out front in the office area. Have it off to the side, set it up as a place for people to fill out ads and subscription requests. But, after hours, we could use it for meals.”

“Hmm,” she said, not looking at him. It wasn’t a bad idea. So why did the suggestion irritate her?

“So, what did you do today?”

She swallowed hard and held up her hand. “Okay, this bothers me. We are not together, Peter.”

“I know that,” he said, unable to suppress a grin, undaunted by her sudden change of mood.

“Well, you’re acting like we’re together.”

“How so? By making polite conversation?”

“By making me dinner, and suggesting we buy furniture, and then wanting to know where I was all day. That’s what
couples
do.”

“
Friends
also do those things, Muzzy.”

She stared at him, pursing her lips.

“If it bothers you, I won’t ask you about your day. Forget the table. And I’ll stop cooking, too, if you want.”

“I suppose I don’t mind the cooking,” she said after a long silence. She softened with a smile to let him know she wasn’t angry. It was ridiculous, the whole thing, and she wondered how on earth she’d gotten herself into this. Her first impression of Peter, once she could close her mouth, was that he was the very definition of anatomical perfection. And now she sat here holding a hand up against what could be perceived as advances—which also seemed ridiculous when she stopped to think about it.

Muzzy marched to the beat of her own drum, rode a motorbike, wore slacks, and chased down leads—sometimes literally—in hopes of a decent story. Her life was hectic and harried. She caught him staring at her again and stared right back. He dropped his eyes to his plate and grinned.

Why on earth does he do that?

She supposed she was pretty, in her own way, though her teeth were a bit crooked, and too much coffee kept them from being as bright as they could be, and her hair truly had a mind of its own. It was always after these assessments of herself when she would realize how improbable it was that Peter was
actually
attracted to her. He was most likely grateful for a roof over his head and the help she’d provided in getting him a job on one of Aryl’s boats. He was repaying kindness—that was all. And he was right. Friends make dinner, conversation, and suggestions.