The Edge of Recall (22 page)

The driver jumped down. “You ordered the Bobcat?”

She nodded.

“You have an operator?”

“I’m using it.” When Smith chose a contractor, she would bring in a team. Until then, she wanted control of what happened with the labyrinth. She knew how to operate the mini skid loader and would take the care necessary for this delicate job.

She signed the agreement, assured the guy one more time that she knew what she was doing, that it was indeed a flat landscape she’d be clearing, and she understood how the narrow wheelbase made the vehicle unstable on hilly grades. If she used the rope hook, she would look out for springy rebound. Finally convinced, the driver moved the lumbering truck back out to the street.

She climbed aboard, took hold of the levers that independently controlled the left and right skids, and headed for the labyrinth field. The agile Bobcat had as much power as she’d need, and the ability to rotate around its center for complete maneuverability. If the labyrinth wasn’t such serious business, it would be playtime.

Though God may not have spoken to her in words, he’d shown her what had to be done. Physically, symbolically, or psychologically, she had to lock the monster back where he belonged, where he could not hurt her or anyone she loved. It was no accident that the labyrinth on this property was of the cathedral design. No other script had such sacred intention.

She believed—had to believe—that in this place, in this way, she would bring an end to the fear. Here, once and for all, God would deliver her. And if Smith was part of that, how much better it would be. The danger she had felt would not overcome her purpose or the satisfaction of participating in her own liberation. Soon the monster would be helpless, and she would be free.

Starting near the mouth she had cleared by hand, she carefully tore away the sod with each thrust of the Bobcat’s blade. Near the center, a new growth of kudzu had sprung up, but she wouldn’t tackle that yet. Instead, she worked to clear the circumference and get a look at the size and condition of the labyrinth. The scent of earth and bruised grass filled her senses, until the sound of her name broke through her concentration.

Catching sight of Bair, she stopped the Bobcat and cut the engine. The exhaust cloyed, then wafted away as he reached her.

“Thought you might be ready for a break.”

She took the snack of apples and cheese and the icy bottle of green tea she’d stashed in their refrigerator, even though she hadn’t intended to break yet. “Thanks.”

Bair planted his beefy hands on his hips. “Didn’t really see you as the bulldozer type.”

She wiped the damp hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Landscape architects get to play in the dirt. You should ditch Smith and come have some real fun.”

He flushed. “You’ve, um, made some … progress.”

She looked over her shoulder at the exposed ground, then tapped the lever. “Goes a little quicker like this than with a shovel.”

“Easier on the back.”

True, but the vibrations had all but numbed her forearms.

Bair swallowed. “Looks more like a, uh, trough than a path.”

“The base is bedrock. They dug down to it, then raised the sides to form the beds for the hedge.”

“Oh, I see. Is that how it’s usually done?”

“I’ve never worked this design with a vertical element. Only flat, or nearly so.”

“A path with no walls?”

“You’re still thinking of a maze. Most labyrinths are stone tiles or turf. With hedge walls this will be a completely different experience.”

“Different how?”

She pressed her hands to the small of her back. “In a turf or floor labyrinth, you watch the ground to stay on track, but the whole way is laid out in plain view. In this one, with walls as tall as the walker, you can’t see the entire path, only the part before you.”

“Then it will be like a maze.”

“Without dead ends, but yes. You won’t know what’s around the corner.” Or who. She shuddered, imagining Rumer Gaston, or last night’s creepy specter. Or the monster trying to break through her subconscious. “Anyway, it’s going to take a lot of work to recreate.”

“Then it’s good I brought fortification.”

For his sake, she crunched an apple slice. “Thanks again, but why exactly are we having this picnic?”

Bair cleared his throat. “Smith’s, uh, taking a call.”

“Not Petra changing things.”

“Not Petra, no.”

She searched his reddened face, his discomfort triggering hers.

“It’s, um, Danae. I don’t know if he told—”

“He told me.”

“Right. Well, I came out to give him some privacy.”

Privacy? “I didn’t know he still talked to her.”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Odd timing, actually. She hasn’t called in over a month.”

One whole month? “I thought she left him for someone else.”

He nodded. “She did, but he’s … loyal, you know?” No, she didn’t know. He’d cut and run the moment she didn’t fit his parameters. They hadn’t talked once since their relationship blew up, not until he’d called her for this job—at Rumer Gaston’s urging. Her mind flew back to the day she’d heard him laughing with his friends and confronted him.

“You told them I’m switching paths? You think it’s funny?”

“I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s a tragedy.”

“Tragedy, Smith?”

“And a waste.”

“Because I prefer landscape to structures?”

“Because you think you can make something out of your ridiculous
labyrinth fixation. Nobody cares, Tessa. They’re an obsolete
oddity.”

She shook, remembering. They hadn’t spoken again, and their paths had scarcely crossed, yet he spoke regularly with Danae, who had obviously made an indelible mark. “What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s nicely put together. Long legs, long hair. That’s Smith’s downfall. He can’t resist a soft sweep of hair.”

Why was he telling her this? “So, she’s pretty.”

“Not so much pretty as attractive. Commands the eye, if you get my meaning.”

Oh, she got it. “What did she call about?” She deliberately chewed her way through the apples and sharp cheddar chunks.

Bair shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Maybe he did; maybe he didn’t. The reason was less important than Smith’s response.

“Has he asked her to stop?”

Bair kicked the dirt. “He doesn’t like to give up on people.”

She could offer a different opinion. “He still has feelings for her.”

“He’d, uh, have to say.”

“But you’re warning me.”

He squinted up at her. “I only know what I saw.”

“And that was?”

“She hurt him.”

Her throat squeezed. “Didn’t he tell her to bog off and good riddance?”

Bair frowned. “Is that what he said?”

“It isn’t true?” She clenched the tea bottle.

“I’m sure he wanted to. And … maybe he thinks he did. Guys remember stuff the way they wish it had been.”

“But in reality?”

Bair shrugged. “I think he told her he’d be there when she realized her mistake.”

She trembled.

“Don’t cry to me when you realize your mistake.”

“You’re the last person I’d cry to, Smith.”

“Good.”

She drew a ragged breath. He’d said he wasn’t filling Danae’s slot. But if he thought he could slip her in next to Danae’s hallowed ground, he’d better think again.

Bair cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

“Not really.” She drew herself up. “But I will be.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“What did you mean?”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Again. She knew what Smith was capable of. Bair must also. “Thank you.” She smiled, though tears crawled up her throat and invaded her eyes. “For caring.”

He reached for the empty baggie and bottle. She didn’t remember eating or drinking any of it.

Bair scrutinized her. “He wouldn’t intend to. I’m just not sure he’s let her go.”

She started the engine. “I should get back to work.” She was there to build a labyrinth. And she would. Nothing had changed— except the joy was gone.

Smith spent the day taking over for light-hearted Gordon Ellis, who’d suffered a coronary and was convalescing. He could draw the specs for the structural engineering himself, and may as well, since they were on schedule with the base drawings and on-site with no other projects and only Danae’s phone call interfering.

Why would she tell him she was breaking off with Edward unless she considered reconciliation possible? He had left the door open in more ways than one, but things had grown a great deal more complicated. He had not only his own feelings to think about, but also Tessa’s. They were just starting off, but it was no light thing to disengage, even at this point.

Did he want to? He had just wondered whether he’d ever cared for Danae, and now this call had made him—
Stop
. He dropped his head back and rubbed his neck.

At least Tessa had been out in the field. He wouldn’t know how to explain—if he even could—without her overreacting. No, without her being hurt.

Eventually, it registered that Bair had exercised extreme selfcontrol, and that raised a flag. Smith turned in his chair.

Bair looked up. “What?”

“Nothing you want to say?”

“What would I say?”

“Let’s see … ‘How long are you going to let her jerk your chain?’ or ‘Tell her to stuff a sock in it!’ or ‘Who does she think you are— her nanny?’ ” All things he’d never held back before.

“Doesn’t do any good.” Bair looked back at his work, but a flush had crept into his ears, where his anger showed.

“What am I supposed to do—refuse her calls?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He’d known every other time. “What’s up?”

Bair raised only his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Right.” Smith headed for the door. The call had obviously chafed Bair’s sore spot. He didn’t need to deal with that on top of the rest.

Smith followed the drone of the Bobcat to the labyrinth field. Tessa had made good progress, not having come in since the equipment arrived. She kept working as he approached, kept working as he stood there. After her reaching out last night, he’d expected acknowledgment at least.

She finally pulled to a stop. “What do you need?”

“I wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want to take a break?”

She shook her head. “I’m working, Smith.”

Her mood seemed to match Bair’s. And then it struck him. “Climb out a minute, Tessa. I want to talk to you.”

“There’s no need.”

“There is.” He crossed the raw dirt to her and reached out. “Give me your hand.”

“I don’t need help.” She got out without touching him.

“I don’t know what Bair told you, but you’ve obviously taken it wrong.”

“I don’t think so.” She wiped her palms on her pants. “And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Because I was bound to disappoint you, and now it’s come sooner rather than later?”

She looked into his face. “I don’t want to get caught in the middle.”

“There’s no middle to get caught in.”

“I’ve seen your back before, Smith. If you’re not done with Danae, I don’t need this.”

He would strangle Bair. Slowly. Why had he ratted him out? “It was a phone call, Tess. She does it sometimes. I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re loyal.”

“Is that what Bair said?”

“He said you’re not over her, and I appreciate that, because you didn’t say so. Maybe you thought the egg would break, but I prefer truth to lies.”

“You’re saying I lied to you?” His temper flared. “You’ve judged and condemned me before even hearing me out?”

“You didn’t exactly run out here to discuss it.”

“No, but Bair certainly did.”

She raised her chin. “He didn’t want me hurt. He sounded as though he’d seen it before.”

“Are you talking about his cousin?”

“What about her?”

“He set me up. I told him I wasn’t ready. He let her believe a little mending of a broken heart would put me right. It took months to be rid of her intensive care.”

“And now here we are.”

“Because I want to be.”

“And yet you took her call.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “As I took yours. In the middle of the night, no less.”

Blood flushed from her neck into her face. “You said you wanted to make the monster go away. You let me believe it wasn’t stupid to you. That you took me seriously.”

“I did, and I do.”

She drew a jagged breath. “Did you tell her about it?”

“What?”

“Danae. Did you tell her about the egg you’re babysitting?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t want her to know there’s anyone else in your life?”

“It’s not her business to know!” It felt wickedly good to see her flinch.

“As it wasn’t mine to know she’d called? That’s right. I’m in a different slot. The wholly new one.”

“Blast it, Tess. This isn’t fair.” He flung out his arms and stalked away from her before he said something he would really regret. He’d been right at the start. He should not have taken things the direction he had. Tessa was too reactionary. And Bair was going to pay.