A Shadow on the Ground (31 page)

“Where’s the real one?” Gage asked.

“At the bank. In a safety deposit box. Exactly where you thought I should put it. I can think of one other place I’d like to put it, but for now, I think I’ll leave it at the bank.”

She walked out the door and knelt beside Sean. “Help is on the way, little brother. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Sean groaned. He clasped the hand she offered. “This feels like the time I fell out of the tree playing Superman and broke my collarbone.”

“Yes, it does. A little.”

“You sat beside me and waited for the ambulance, remember? While Opal paced up and down, crying and hollering like it had happened to her.”

“Emergencies aren’t really her strong suit.”

“It’s not gonna work out between you and Gage, is it? I was hoping it would.”

“No.”

Morgan looked at the sky. Stars twinkled like beacons full of false promises, coaxing the world to send them wishes no matter how futile they might be. The three-quarter moon was still there, shining down on all of them, watching their mistakes, keeping their secrets.

She’d never been very good at forgiving and forgetting, but it was time she learned how. She was older now. And stronger. And smarter. Time to put the past behind her once and for all. Time to take Sean’s advice and swing out over the lake, let go of the rope, and pray she remembered how to tread water.

“Morgan?” Gage said softly.

Light spilled through the screen, casting a checkered pattern on the painted floor. The wind had died down. The bitter stench of the doused campfire hung in the air. Morgan shuddered, thinking of Denny. Would she ever smell a wood fire again without remembering this night?

“Morgan,” Gage said. “
Please.
Look at me.”

Her heart ached. She pressed her hand against her chest to make it stop. Why couldn’t she let go of the hurt and give him a chance? Turn around and fall into his eyes? Open her heart to him and let the past slide away like a handful of water dribbling through her fingers? Why couldn’t she forgive him?

Forgive him for what? For deceiving her? For putting his child first all those years ago? For putting his child first now? Or was she still unable to forgive him for not having the courage to stand up to his father and uncle? For letting her go when she loved him so dearly? For leaving her with a baby that could only live in her dreams, and the memory of one perfect day? It had taken her years to get over him. Years to make sense of her life and learn to live without the things she thought she needed to make her happy. What would she do with all that happiness anyway? Wrap it in cotton wool and hide it under her bedroom floorboard, terrified that a thief might come in the night and steal it away?

She extricated her hand from Sean’s and went back inside. She picked up the guitar Jeremy had left beside the piano. “Here,” she said. “I want you to have this.”

Jeremy’s eye lit up. “For real?”

“For real. Forever.”

He let go of Gage and clasped the guitar to his chest. “Wow. Thanks, Morgan.”

“I’m not going to be able to give you lessons, but I know a lot of great bluegrass artists in the area who would love to take you under their wing. I’ll...I’ll contact a few and text you.”

“If you can get a friggin’ signal,” Jeremy said, laughing.

“On second thought, I’ll use a real phone.” She smiled and held out her arms. “Come here, you. Gimme a hug.” Jeremy threw his free arm around her waist. She hugged him tight, patting his back, rubbing the sharp outline of his small shoulder blades. It always amazed her how fragile he felt, and how having him in her life, even for a few short days, had begun to fill the empty hollow of her heart. She kissed the top of his head, then ruffled his hair. “Have a great life, kid. And do me a favor—give your old man a break once in a while.”

She could feel Gage’s eyes burning into her as she walked back to the porch. She resisted the urge to turn around and drown in them. It was the self-preservation thing. His eyes had always been her undoing. If she looked into them, knowing it was the last time, she wasn’t sure she would be able to walk away. The crack in her heart would split wide open.

She wrapped one arm around the porch post, grateful the tears she’d been fighting had decided to wait until Gage and Jeremy were safely gone. Her gaze swept down the flagstone walk, across the road to the Jenkins’ cow pasture, over the dark, hulking shadow of Blackstone Mountain, to the black twinkling sky above.

“Morgan, look at me,” Gage said.

She didn’t move.

“Don’t throw us away, Morgan.
Please.
What we have together is magic. Who gets to feel like this in their lifetime? Who?”

“My dad wants you to look at him,” Jeremy said.

“Morgan,
please,
” Gage begged hoarsely. “Please, look at me.”

Morgan slowly shook her head no.

In the distance, so faint she could scarcely believe it was real, the mournful wail of a siren echoed through the deep, rolling hills of Riverbirch.

Chapter 20

Light poured through the narrow stained glass windows, throwing golden arched rectangles across the church floor. The oak pews had been polished until they gleamed. Flowers from the only shop in Riverbirch filled the urns on either side of the communion table. Ribboned sprays wishing Harlan a safe journey to heaven stood balanced on wire stands at the front of the sanctuary. Between them, a black box full of ashes sat dwarfed on a large pedestal where the casket should have been.

Morgan was glad Harlan had been cremated. The thought of him lying in a box ten feet away while she played his favorite songs, would have been difficult to get through without wanting to lay her head on the keyboard and weep.

After she and Sean had returned from the hospital, she’d lain awake mourning the loss of Gage and Jeremy. Before daylight, and sick of feeling sorry for herself, she went downstairs and combed through her collection of sheet music, searching for songs she thought Harlan might like to hear. She closed her eyes and remembered the tunes she’d heard him whistling the last two years as he tromped from the office to the barn and back again. She settled on “Amazing Grace” and “Shenandoah” for the prayers and a selection of Harlan’s all-time favorites to underscore the beginning and end of the service. If she played them slowly and reverently, she doubted the religious conservatives in the crowd would recognize “Folsom Prison Blues” and “Hunka Hunka Burning Love.”

The small church was filling up fast. Morgan smoothed her blue flowered skirt and began to play, segueing seamlessly from one song to the next. Sheriff Stallard scooted beside her on the piano bench.

“How are you doing?” the sheriff whispered. “How’s Sean?”

“I’m fine,” Morgan said. “Sean’s sitting in the back between the Wheeler twins. His kneecap is in a cast, but he wouldn’t stay home. Seems he’s a lot tougher than I’ve been giving him credit for.” Morgan licked her thumb and turned a page. “Have you charged Ethan yet?”

“Oh, yes. I let Deputy Nelson do the honors.”

“But what about the evidence? Will there be enough to—”

“Put him away for the rest of his life? Oh, sweetie, you can count on it. We went back to the slaughterhouse and recovered a bloody print off the underside of the steel railing. When we told Ethan it was a perfect match to him, we got a full confession.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And he admitted stabbing his father’s corpse with Sean’s knife. So, that lets Sean off the hook.”

“Thank God.”

Sheriff Stallard patted Morgan’s shoulder as she got up. “I know we’re at a funeral, but cheer up, dear heart. When you get to be my age, you’ll realize that things usually work out the way they’re supposed to.”

“Tell that to Harlan.”

Morgan glanced out at the congregation. Her heart lurched.

Gage and Jeremy stood in the arched doorway at the back of the church, talking to Opal. When they started down the aisle, Gage eased Jeremy’s baseball cap off his head and motioned for the boy to slide in beside him on the last pew.

Morgan took a deep breath and shoved the pain to the back of her heart. She would deal with it later. Right now, she needed to concentrate on the music and make Harlan proud.

Today was going to be harder to get through than she thought.

****

Gage couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the inside of a church.

Suzanne’s funeral had been held in a chapel at the funeral home, a decision Suzanne’s father had made since he considered her death a suicide. Gage hadn’t agreed. He believed Suzanne’s death had been facilitated by an illness she never quite had the strength to manage on her own. He could only hope that someday Jeremy would come to the same conclusion.

“Morgan’s playing the piano,” Jeremy whispered. “Are you gonna talk to her?”

“I don’t think so,” Gage said. “She won’t even look at me.”

“Girls never look at you when they’re pissed off. You have to do something nice for them, give them flowers and stuff, first.”

“Duly noted,” Gage said.

Gage settled himself in the pew then turned his attention to the front of the church. Seated safely on the back row, he could drop all pretense of mourning a man he’d never met and openly stare at Morgan all he wanted. She was sitting at an old piano, engrossed in her sheet music, playing some hymn-like song that sounded a lot like “Take This Job and Shove It.” Her skirt, made out of some kind of flowy fabric, fanned out across the piano bench. The white scoop-necked shirt beneath her fitted denim jacket was low enough to hint at her full, creamy breasts. She’d pulled her dark hair back from her face, and he watched, fascinated, as the silver hoops in her ears bounced against her neck each time she turned a page. Her skin seemed to be lit from within. She looked beautiful, and ethereal, and sexy as hell. In the warm morning light, she damned near took his breath away.

After the invocation and prayers, Pastor Byrd showed an amazing amount of restraint by not preaching one of those hell and damnation sermons he was known for to the standing-room only crowd. Instead, he focused on Harlan’s memory as a man who was well loved and respected by the Riverbirch community. No mention of Ethan, or the fact he’d been arrested for his father’s murder. But everyone sitting in the Higher Ground Baptist Church sanctuary knew the tragic circumstances surrounding Harlan Spannagel’s death.

The minister invited the congregation to join him after the service in granting Harlan’s last wish; accompanying him to scatter Harlan’s ashes among the river birch trees beside the cold, rushing water of Deer Creek. He asked anyone who wanted to say a few words about Harlan to come to the pulpit and speak. A few members of the congregation shared some lighthearted memories amid tears and laughter. As they walked back to their seats, each one patted Sean on the shoulder as if he were Harlan’s son.

“Before we conclude,” Pastor Byrd said. “Does anyone else have something to say?”

Gage cleared his throat and got to his feet. His heart pounded hard in his chest.

As he walked down the aisle, all eyes were upon him, including Morgan’s. He avoided direct eye contact, knowing he’d never get through the next three minutes if he let himself look at her. He grasped the sides of the pulpit and gazed out across a sea of expectant faces. He tried to keep his voice steady. “My name is Gage Kirkland, and I...I have something to say. It’s a little off topic, I guess, but I think it’s important.” Opal smiled at him, blindly nodding encouragement. “I didn’t know Harlan Spannagel, but I understand he was a great friend and mentor to Sean Maguire. Harlan spent the last two years of his life managing Maguire Orchard. When Robert Maguire got sick, Harlan jumped in and helped him carry the load, because that’s the kind of man he was. He took pride in his work, and in the friendships he forged in this community.

“Harlan wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes. But everyone makes mistakes.” He glanced at Morgan. “Big ones, small ones, it doesn’t matter. What matters is how you learn from them, and if you’re willing to spend your life making them up to the people you’ve hurt, the people you love, the people who mean everything to you.” He stopped. “But I digress.” He shook his head and grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say that. Anyway, we’re here to celebrate the life of Harlan Spannagel, and I think I know what would make Harlan happy.”

“Besides a pint of moonshine?” someone yelled from the back.

The congregation tittered and laughed.

“Harlan was a character,” Gage said, laughing. “Look, I realize I’m an outsider. But I would feel privileged to be a part of this community because I know how much you care for each other. In Riverbirch and Cherokee Bluff, everyone may know your business, but everyone has your back.”

“You got that right,” one of the Wheeler twins said.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard that Maguire Orchard, which Harlan took such pride in sustaining, has fallen on hard times. Many of you are farmers, and you know what it’s like to weather a storm. Well, folks, this storm’s a doozy. Harlan is gone, Sean has a broken kneecap, the Maguire’s harvesting machines had to be sold to pay Mr. Maguire’s medical bills, and the apple pickers the orchard depends on are unavailable. The apples are ripe and ready to pick, and if we can’t get them off the trees, they’ll be lost forever. If that happens, Maguire Orchard and Apple Butter Barn may not survive the winter. What I’m asking—what I’m begging you to do—is to show your community spirit and love, and give the good people at Maguire Orchard a helping hand.”

Gage’s voice gathered strength. “If everyone pulls together, we can get this done today. And even though my son Jeremy and I will be moving away, today I can show him why a small town is the best place on earth to live. My uncle will provide a catered picnic for everyone who comes to help. If you haven’t eaten the food at Hog Heaven, I think you’ll like it.” He smiled. “I ate there last night, and it ended up being one of the most memorable dinners I’ve ever had. So, what do you say, folks? Let’s take Harlan to his final resting place at Deer Creek, hold him in our hearts, then do something nice for the people he loved most.”

Gage turned to Morgan. He smiled shyly, then gave a little shrug. He held her gaze and looked deep into her eyes. Her big, beautiful, surprised-as-hell eyes. And for one miraculous moment he thought she might forgive him. Their eyes melded into each other, going deeper and deeper, soul to soul, until she broke the spell and looked away.