Rest Thy Head (5 page)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I care even less.” Her mother’s voice sounded so cold Peyton shivered. “You threw away your entire future yesterday when you walked out on Drew. I worked my butt off for you and Ashley, and I must say the two of you don’t appreciate a single thing I’ve done for you. You knew how advantageous it would be for our entire family if you married Drew, but no, you had to let that little business with Megan Thomas ruin your life. That’s what happened yesterday.”

“Mother, you don’t understand.” Her knuckles turned white as her hand tightened on the phone. “Please, let me tell you what Roberta said.”

“Go ahead.”

Peyton told Eleanor what she had overheard in the restroom. “That’s why I didn’t marry him. He didn’t want me at all. Megan was his first choice. He only married me because his father told him he had to.”

“Am I supposed to feel bad about that? You could have had the world, and you threw it away. I always thought you were smarter than that, but I guess I was wrong. What do you intend to do now?”

Peyton shut her eyes as if by doing so she could stop her mother’s hurtful words. “I’ll get a job.”

“How nice. You can be a member of the working class.”

“I have a college degree in accounting!”

“So you do,” Eleanor agreed. “When do you intend to move your things out of the house?”

Peyton took a deep breath. “I…thought I’d stay with you until I found a job.”

Eleanor laughed for the first time. “I don’t think so. Manage your own life. You didn’t like the path I chose for you, so you’re on your own. Do whatever you like.”

“Mother…”

Eleanor hung up the phone. “How could you?” Peyton cried. “What kind of parent are you? Didn’t you ever love Ashley and me?”

A stealthy noise coming from the bathroom dried the tears in her eyes. Someone was hiding in there. “Who’s there?” she sharply queried. “I know you’re in there, so come on out.”

The door slowly opened, squealing like a banshee. Annie came into the bedroom with head lowered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I brought you some soap. You had the ordinary stuff in your bathroom, but I thought you’d like this nice French milled soap like mine. I would have told you I was in there, but truthfully, I hoped you’d leave the room.” She sniffed. “I didn’t want you to know I overheard your conversation.”

She looked so contrite Peyton forgave her on the spot. “Oh, it’s okay. I don’t guess it’s a big secret or anything. My mother’s a little … complicated.”

Annie smoothly crossed over to the big wing chair in front of the fireplace and sat down. “Your mother sounds a little bit like my dad. It’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“It sure is. How can she act this way? I wouldn’t marry the man she picked, so she kicked me out of the house even though he was a low down, dirty cheater.”

Annie smoothed a wrinkle in her apron. “As you pointed out, you’ve been to college. You can take care of yourself just fine.”

“Of course I can,” Peyton cried. “That isn’t the problem. The problem is that she’s my mother, and in spite of the way she’s treated me, I love her. I don’t want to be on the outs with her.”

Annie studied her face. “You’re a nice person. After I left home I never wanted to see my father again.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong; I’m mad at her, but…” Peyton absently rubbed at a spot on her blouse where Reggie had slobbered on her. “Well, she did have a hard time growing up. I guess we have to make some allowances for her.”

Annie’s face lit up. “I have an idea. I think you should take a few weeks to think about what you want to do before you make any decisions. Why don’t you ask for Chloe’s job? She works in the kitchen -- that is, she did, but she quit this morning. You can stay at Rest Thy Head for a while, and when you feel ready you can go back home and find that job. You’d probably have to give up this room because it’s for paying guests, but there’s a nice maid’s room on the third floor that would be perfect.”

Why not stay here? At the moment, going back home held little appeal. She liked Patrick and figured he’d be easy to work for too. “I believe I will. Maybe by the time I get my emotional house in order Mother will have forgiven me.”

Annie smiled and rose from the wing chair. “Good. I’ll see you later.”

She moved out the door with that peculiar, gliding motion, and Peyton went to find Patrick.

She heard his voice in the dining room as she went downstairs and popped in to talk to him. Several people had already begun their lunch; it smelled good, like the fried chicken her mother used to cook. Evidently, Jake had learned his trade well.

Patrick saw her and moved to her side with a smile. “Are you ready for lunch? I recommend the fried chicken.”

“Actually, I’d like to talk to you when you have a minute.”

“For you I have a minute anytime. Let’s go into the office.”

Peyton liked the office, a pleasant space near the dining room. Bookshelves lined rustic, paneled walls, and the desk looked like an antique. Several old, oil portraits hung around the room. Patrick sat down on a small loveseat covered in denim that stood across the room from the desk. He patted the space beside him. “Sit down, Peyton, and tell me what I can do for you.”

Peyton sat down and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I talked to my mother after our ride this morning. She isn’t…happy with me. In fact, she told me not to come home at all.”

“I’m so sorry.” He gave her shoulder a quick pat.

Peyton pursed her lips. “Well, that’s just Mother. I’m hoping she’ll get over it eventually. I planned to go back to Milford and get a job, but, I don’t want to go home just yet. I know you had a girl to quit this morning, and I wondered if I could interview for her job.”

Patrick thought for a moment. “You’d be working for my brother. Would his face bother you?”

“No, it wouldn’t. It surprised me this morning, but I don’t mind.”

Patrick pursed his lips. “We don’t have a room for you. You’d have to find somewhere to live.”

“How about the maid’s room on the third floor?”

Patrick’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Who told you about that room?”

“One of the maids.”

“I don’t know what to tell you about that.” He ran his hand through his red hair and made it stand straight up. “We’ve had guests stay in the room before, but not for long. People say it’s haunted.”

Peyton burst into laughter.

“You laugh now, but if you see something you probably won’t laugh. The last guest who stayed there left in the middle of the night. He said some woman kept pushing him out of the bed.”

Peyton laughed again. How could anyone really believe in ghosts? “Sounds like a vivid dream to me. I don’t believe in ghosts. I’m perfectly willing to live in that room if you hire me.”

He still looked doubtful, but he gave in with good grace. “Okay. We’ll talk to Jake around two if that’s convenient for you.”

“Fine by me.”

They walked back to the dining room where Peyton ordered the fried chicken. As Patrick had promised, she loved it. She couldn’t identify exactly what spice Jake had put on it, but she hoped he’d share his recipe with her.

It was a pity he had those burns on his face. If not for them he would have been handsome, much more so than Patrick. Jake was shorter and more muscular than Patrick, and she couldn’t forget his killer shoulders. She sighed. Life could really be unfair sometimes.

Chapter Four

At two o’clock Patrick took Peyton to talk to Jake. They found him in the office pouring over a cookbook whose food stained cover proclaimed it as one of his favorites. Patrick shut the door behind them. “Jake, this is the woman I told you about. Peyton O’Malley, meet my brother Jake Douglas. Jake, this is Peyton O’Malley.”

Jake turned his head slightly to the side so that the unburned portion of his face faced Peyton. “It startled you this morning when you saw my face, Ms. O’Malley.”

“Please, call me Peyton. Yes, it did startle me, but that’s only because I didn’t expect it.”

Jake turned his head so that she saw almost all of his face. “All right. Will it bother you to work with me?”

She shook her head. “No, it won’t.”

“Do you know your way around a kitchen?”

Peyton felt heat flood her cheeks. “Well…I can do some things, but I can’t cook like you do.”

“Oh, Jake doesn’t cook everything,” Patrick inserted. “He’s in charge of the kitchen staff. They do most of the work.”

Peyton brightened as she smiled at Jake. “But your eggs this morning were great, and I’d like to be around next week to taste those peach stuffed crepes.”

He pursed his lips. “Chloe, the girl who quit, assembled our salads for lunch and helped with breakfast. Could you handle that?”

“Yes, of course I can.”

“Then if you want the job it’s okay by me.”

Patrick stuck out his hand. “When can you start?”

“Tomorrow?”

He laughed. “Fine. You can stay in the room you’re in until tomorrow morning. We’ll put your things upstairs right after breakfast.”

Jake leaned forward in his chair which squeaked so loudly it grated on Peyton’s ears. “Where’s she staying?”

“The maid’s room.”

Jake cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, a mild look of apprehension on his face. “Did you tell her…”

Peyton had to laugh even though it was probably bad luck to laugh at her new boss. “Yes, he told me. Don’t worry about the ghost; I’ll be fine.”

Jake shrugged, calling Peyton’s attention to his nice, broad shoulders. “If you say so.”

“Well, now that’s settled you should enjoy the local area before you go to work.” Patrick looked happy about the outcome of the interview.

Jake rummaged around in the desk drawer and handed a paper to Peyton. “This is a list of area attractions.”

Peyton reached for the list and was momentarily distracted by Jake’s hands. They looked strong and capable, and they were warm where his fingers had brushed hers. For a brief moment, her stomach felt all fluttery. “Thanks. I’ll check one of them out this afternoon.”

She said goodbye to the brothers and went upstairs to look at her list. Hmm. Waterbury had a pottery shop. Maybe she should pay them a visit. She loved pottery. Uh oh. Thinking of pottery made her think of Drew, who hadn’t liked pottery. His mother really did use a sterling silver coffee service and fine china at every meal, so he thought everyone should. He never tried to understand she wanted a more casual lifestyle.

Well, she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. She went to her car and put a Faith Hill CD in the CD player. She wouldn’t have to listen to Drew’s music either.

She found the pottery shop in downtown Waterbury, a small, rural town that looked like it belonged in a previous century. She smiled when she thought of how hard the merchants probably worked to make it look that way. Tourists loved a taste of the old west.

She parked and went into the pottery shop. Goodness. What beautiful things. The potter was a skilled craftsman. She was trying to make up her mind between two beautiful jugs when a voice behind her asked, “May I help you?”

Peyton turned around and smiled at the young man who stood there. “Only if you can make up my mind for me. Both of these pieces are beautiful.”

He beamed at her. “Thank you.

“Are you the potter?”

“Yes, I am.” He held out his hand. “Andy Russell.”

“Peyton O’Malley.” Peyton liked his looks. Andy stood about the same height as Drew, but he had a little more muscle than Drew. In fact, he was downright cute in that boy next door way.

“What’s your favorite color, Peyton?”

“Blue.”

“Because it matches your eyes,” Andy guessed. “I’d take the jug with the blue-green glaze. I think it has a more pleasing shape than the red one.”

“You talked me into it.”

Peyton paid for her jug and hoped she wouldn’t regret buying it. She hadn’t asked Patrick what her job paid, but she doubted it would cover the price of too many fancy jugs. No matter. She loved it and wanted it for herself. Something about those colors made her feel happy.

Andy securely wrapped the jug in old newspapers. “You’re new in town, aren’t you? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Yes, I am.” Peyton swept her dark hair away from her face. “I start work tomorrow at Rest Thy Head.”

Andy smiled. “It’s a great place, isn’t it? It’s the oldest building in Waterbury, and this pottery is the second oldest. You get a real sense of history out there.” He gestured to the far wall of the pottery which looked darker in color than the rest of the walls. “See the different color?”

“Yes, I see the dark wall. What about it?”

“That wall was replaced in 1875 after an Indian attack. The Indians set fire to the building, but in spite of bullets and arrows flying around their ears, old Mr. Houston and his family managed to put out the fire. They did have to replace that one wall, though.”

“Was he your ancestor?”

“No, but I do appreciate the history surrounding the building.” His cheerful smile faded somewhat. “Who hired you, Patrick or Jake?”

“I guess both of them did. I talked to Patrick first, and then he introduced me to Jake.”

Andy reached behind him and took a photo in an expensive looking leather frame from a shelf. “Recognize anyone?”

Peyton studied the photo. She saw two men dressed in jeans; each of them carried fishing poles, and both wore big smiles on their faces. Peyton could almost feel their pleasure in the day. “You’re the man on the left, but I don’t know the guy on the right.” He was awfully handsome though.

“Jake Douglas is the man on the right.”

Peyton looked more closely at Jake’s picture. Yes, she recognized him now. “Jake’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“He was.” Andy took the picture from Peyton and replaced it on the shelf.

Peyton’s head tilted. “Was? Aren’t you friends now?”

Andy sighed. “I’d like to be, but since Jake came home, he hasn’t wanted anything to do with anyone. He stays at Rest Thy Head most of the time. I think he’s ashamed of his scars.”

Peyton stared at Jake’s picture. So handsome. “Would his scars make a difference to you?”