Hotel Ladd (31 page)

“
What if she burns the place
down?” It was a tormented whisper. “What if she ruins the land?
I’ll never forgive myself.”

“
She won’t. Nick and Malcolm
will beat Jillian. I don’t know how yet, but I’ve learned to judge
a man’s character by my gut and Nick and Malcolm are solid. She’s
messing with the wrong men, I can tell you that much.”

Annie seemed eased by his assessment,
but Cal could feel a world of guilt remained. It was squeezing the
joy from her eyes, the joy he so desperately yearned to see.
“You’ve got to believe me, Annie. We’ll find a way. With you by my
side, I’m not worried about anything.”

A tortured smile formed on her lips and
he kissed it free. Softly, open-mouthed, he massaged the worry from
her, from himself, from their growing love. Annie surrendered to
him, stirring him deeply. At her mild shiver, he murmured, “Are you
okay?” She nodded. Looping his arms beneath her, Cal hoisted her
from the sofa and carried her to her bedroom. Casey was at the
diner. He’d seen her with his own eyes and knew the place wasn’t
due to close for several more hours. They’d be alone. Together. It
was all he needed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Annie paced the salon, aware employees
were tracking her progress with silent concern. No one said a word
to her, but all watched her walk back and forth, into the lounge,
out of the lounge. It was as if they understood her heart was
heavy, her mind a wreck, each giving her the time and space she
needed to work through her troubles. Casey’s breakup was now common
knowledge. Everybody knew her daughter was vulnerable, especially
being alone during the holidays. It wasn’t right.

Most sympathized and told
Annie to hang in there.
It’s a tough age.
She’s working through the pain. She’ll come
around
. None of them had a clue as to her
real troubles. No one knew about the impending closing, the day
when Casey’s share of Ladd Springs officially changed hands. Only
she did. Jillian Devane had called this morning, announcing she was
back in town and ready to close on her new property. Four weeks of
absence had been erased in the space of one message, one the
receptionist was happy to relay.
Jillian
Devane would be here at close of business
.
And what time was that, Annie had asked? Bobbi Jo had looked at her
strangely, but answered the stupid question. Five o’clock, of
course.

Annie had a five-fifteen appointment
but it was off the books, a favor to a friend who couldn’t afford
the full fee. It was a service she routinely offered, one the salon
owner didn’t mind, requesting it not be recorded so she could keep
her books straight.

Five o’clock. Doomsday. Annie’s mind
emptied as she entered the employee lounge, her nerves whittled to
the bone. If it weren’t for Cal, she’d have come completely
unraveled by now, but with the help of his steady hand and presence
of mind, she kept it together—until she received the phone call.
Harris Hotels had exhausted their resources, searching for a way to
cancel the contract. But thanks to her wonderful lawyer, Hank
Dakota, the contract was solid. Signed, sealed and delivered. The
survey had finally been completed and they were ready to close. Cal
had stalled for as long as he could, but there was no getting
around it. Mr. Dakota had to call and inform Ms. Devane the
necessary paperwork had been completed and she could close at any
time.

Jillian was coming to the
salon to discuss the matter. Annie swerved to a halt, drawn to the
wall clock. Four fifty-five. Cal was in Chattanooga with Malcolm.
He’d formally accepted the position as General Manager of Serenity
Springs and was working with Malcolm on hiring an assistant chef.
Annie paced. Why did it have to be today? Couldn’t Bobbi Jo have
told Jillian eight o’clock?
Quitting time
tonight is eight o’clock!
she wanted to
shout.

Her pulse thumped in her
throat. Maybe she could run an errand and return at five-fifteen.
She needed eggs. Annie stopped. She didn’t need eggs. There was a
full dozen sitting in her refrigerator. Last minute shopping?
Certainly there must be a gift she needed to buy. She resumed
motion but froze. The bell for the salon’s front door
sounded.
Was she here?
Annie raced to the door and cracked it open far enough to peek
through. Moving so the angle was right, she strained to see the
front desk. Her heart detonated, pulse hammering wildly. On the
other side of the salon’s Christmas tree, she could see her. It was
Jillian.

She was here!

Bobbi Jo dutifully walked through the
salon, headed her way. Annie ran from the door, stopped, whipped
around. Cabinets lined the walls, a round table sat in the middle,
there was no place to hide. No rear exit to escape. Think, Annie.
Think!

Seconds later, the lounge door swung
open. “Annie, there’s someone here to...” Bobbi Jo’s voice fell
away. “Annie?”

Hidden away in the color closet, Annie
could envision Bobbi Jo looking around the empty room. “Annie?”
Bobbi Jo’s voice neared the closet and Annie held her breath.
Crammed between shelves and door, she couldn’t move even if she
wanted to. “That’s weird,” Bobbi Jo muttered mere feet from the
closet.

Annie heard the lounge door open and
close but remained in place. It would be just her luck that Jillian
would insist on seeing for herself—because she was a smart woman.
She knew when she was being avoided. The door to the lounge opened
again and Annie froze. Oh God, please don’t be Jillian. Annie
already felt like an ignorant fool for dodging her in the first
place but to be caught in the act would be humiliating! But the
insane logic still appealed to her. Jillian couldn’t close on the
property if she couldn’t find her. The closet door swung open. A
stylist shrieked. Annie’s pulse kicked as she smacked a finger to
her lips. “Shhh...!”

Reeling from the shock of finding a
woman in the color closet, the poor stylist was too stunned to
utter a word. Annie willed her to keep quiet, and the girl nodded.
The frightened-doe-look in her eyes made Annie feel like a bigger
fool. Wait until it got out that Annie Owens had lost her mind. The
town would have a heyday with that one.

Annie emerged from her hiding place.
“I’m sorry to have scared you,” she said, her apology sounding
pathetic even to her own ears. “But I had to...I had to...” Annie
dropped any effort at explanation. Would it matter?

The wild look in the girl’s eyes
negated all reason to continue.

Annie went to the door and pushed it
open a hair, checking to see if Jillian had left. No sight of her,
but Annie didn’t want to chance it. She was probably waiting
outside for her to show up. Annie groaned aloud. “How do I get
mixed up in these things?”

“
Can I get my color now?”
the girl asked timidly.

“
Yes, get your
color.”

Keeping a wide berth around Annie, the
stylist rummaged through bottles and bowls and excused herself.
“Thank you,” she murmured and bonelessly slipped out the
door.

Annie tugged at her blouse, shook her
hair. She couldn’t believe she’d been reduced to hiding in a
closet. It was idiocy. Lunacy. Maybe she was crazy. Like Aunt Fran
used to tell her when she was agitated as a girl, “Go on and hide
your crazy and start acting like a little lady.” Well, her crazy
was alive and well, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was over.
Jillian would sue Annie if she didn’t close. She had signed on the
dotted line and Jillian Devane would take her for everything she
was worth—which was the property.

Annie felt the land run through her
fingers, a dream she’d never realize. Cal could support them, but
Casey’s rightful inheritance would be gone. Because of her mother’s
short-sightedness. The employee lounge door opened, slow and easy.
Bobbi Jo poked her shiny brunette head inside. “Annie?” She looked
at her. “Are you all right?”

“
I’m fine.” She slumped to a
seat at the table.

Bobbi Jo eased into the room, holding
onto the door as she closed it behind her, like she was afraid to
startle Annie with any quick movements. “Are you sure?”

“
I’m sure.” And she didn’t
like being treated as a senile old woman by an eighteen-year old
beauty queen. She was fine. Insane, but fine.

“
Okay. Did you know you have
a five-fifteen appointment coming in?”

“
I know.” She slapped a hand
to the table and asked, “Is that woman still here?”

“
What woman?”

What other woman would she be talking
about? “The woman who came looking for me.”

Realization slowly came to life in
Bobbi Jo’s brain as she made the connection. “Oh...that
woman.”

“
Yes, that woman. Is she
gone?” Annie asked, her earlier embarrassment dissipated. Go on and
let Bobbi Jo and everyone else think she was crazy. It was over.
She was done with it—so long as Jillian was gone, she would be
fine.

“
Yes.” Bobbi Jo blinked big
green eyes. “I think so.”

“
Will you check for me,
please?” Annie didn’t want to be rude, but she did have a client
coming in who she needed to prepare for.

“
Sure.” She nodded briskly.
“I’ll do that, right now.”

Annie waited the few minutes it took
and rose when Bobbi Jo returned, announcing, “She’s gone. I walked
outside and looked up and down the street, just to be double
sure.”

“
Thank you,” Annie said, a
tired resignation unfurling within her. She was too old for this
silliness. But when one acted silly, silly is what you lived
with.

Annie pushed in through the front door
of Fran’s Diner. Tired, weary from the stress, she was relieved to
find the restaurant near empty. Tuesday nights weren’t Fran’s
busiest, requiring only two servers. Tonight those servers were
Casey and Jimmy. The two leaned against a wall by the kitchen
entrance, chatting quietly as they waited and watched for customers
to need them. Casey waved to her mother. It was a small gesture but
a sign the two were making headway. Her daughter approved of Cal,
which made Annie’s decision to accept his proposal all the easier.
She smiled inwardly, waggling her ring finger. She was still
getting used to the feel of a ring on it.

Strolling over to the teens, she asked,
“Pretty slow tonight, huh?”

“
It’s been dead,” Casey
replied glumly.

“
We had a small rush around
five but ever since it’s been pretty quiet,” Jimmy said.

“
Can’t rake in the tips when
there aren’t any customers.” Both agreed with a nod. Annie looked
around, searching for Fran. “Where’s Aunt Fran?”

“
In the back. Dishwasher is
busted.”

“
Oh.” Annie scanned the
diner, wondering if she was even in the mood to eat. She wasn’t
hungry, stress and anxiety weaving through her stomach with
thoughts of the looming closing. At least she had Casey on her
side. Her daughter didn’t care one way or the other what happened
with the property. Sell it, log it, whatever, though she was
warming up to the idea of attending college. Annie looked at Jimmy.
Long, wavy black hair barely combed free of his eyes, his lanky
build and awkward angles were those of a boy who hadn’t quite
filled in to his manhood. He was the reason Casey was
reconsidering. Said he’d take a few classes with her, “just for
kicks.” Annie hoped it was for more than “kicks” but according to
Candi, Jimmy had no ambition. There was nothing he was dying to do,
nothing that set fire to his heart. He had no passion, no
enthusiasm. He was coasting. Though next to Casey he seemed pretty
energetic. These days she was slow as a pour of sweet sorghum.
Annie sighed. Hopefully something would catch his attention other
than her daughter. Watching the two of them together, it occurred
to Annie that Jimmy might be harboring a sweet spot for
Casey.

At the clang of bells, Annie
turned. It was none other than Delaney Wilkins.
Yay
, Annie mocked privately. But upon
seeing the glazed-over look in her eyes, something pulled Annie to
her. Delaney wasn’t a happy woman these days. Nick was gone more
often than not. Albert was proving to be a full-time job. Add the
fact that Malcolm had put her in charge of the stables and you had
for one stressed-out woman. Annie thought Delaney would have loved
working to develop the stables, but according to Lacy, the
perfectionist in her seemed to be undermining the process. She was
overwhelmed. The charge had shot clear out of her and she simply
went through the motions these days. Up in the morning, check on
Albert. Off to town, close out her bookkeeping clients. Back home
for lunch, check on Albert, off to work on the stables. Cook food
for Albert, hand deliver it to his cabin. Miss Nick every step of
the way. On and on it went, Lacy said, with nary a break for fun.
It was a lifestyle Lacy couldn’t hack for one hour let alone day
after day, week after week, but Annie understood the monotony of
obligation. It’s what you did when people were relying on you to
survive. Like Annie, Delaney held her head high and kept on
chugging, despite her personal desires to the contrary.

Maybe it was time someone gave her an
atta boy for her efforts. With a surprise spring in her step, Annie
set off for Delaney. As she neared, the familiar animosity wriggled
into Delaney’s gaze. Muted against the pale blonde strands falling
loose around her face, the soft blue of her sweater, it was there
just the same. In a purposefully meek tone Annie asked, “What
brings you to the diner this hour?”