Once in a Blue Moon (26 page)

“I wouldn’t call it smart. I’d call it ESP. Since she ain’t seen hide nor hair’a you since she was a baby,” Miss Honi remarked with typical acerbic flair.

Jeremiah looked appropriately chastened. “I know. I haven’t been much of a dad. But I’m gonna make it up to her. She’s my girl, you know? My other girl, I should say.” He turned to Kerrie Ann, who blushed.

Lindsay and Miss Honi exchanged a worried look.

“Coffee?” Lindsay offered in an effort to change the subject. She didn’t want to think about what else might have transpired on that trip to Oakview yesterday.

“No thanks. I should get going—I’m seeing a guy about a job,” he told them. “Wish me luck, okay?” He flashed Kerrie Ann a meaningful glance before returning his gaze to Lindsay and Miss Honi. “But hey, it was great meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.” He shook Lindsay’s hand, then Miss Honi’s when she grudgingly offered it.

Kerrie Ann jumped up to see him out, and Lindsay didn’t miss the proprietary hand that rested lightly against the small of her sister’s back as they fell into step.

All right, so Jeremiah wasn’t the devil incarnate, she thought. But he might still be a bad influence. Even if he meant well, he could end up triggering those old self-destructive patterns of Kerrie Ann’s. Or he could fall off the wagon and drag her down with him.

There was Ollie, too. He’d be crushed.

Be careful what you wish for
. . . Lindsay had wished for something or someone to distract her sister from Ollie, but she’d never imagined it would come at such a price.

At quarter to one, Randall phoned to let her know he was on his way. Twenty minutes later he pulled into the driveway just as she was attempting to coax Chester out of her flower bed, where he was frantically sniffing at a gopher hole. Randall came over and squatted down next to her. He whistled, and Chester crept out, tail wagging, to lick his hand. It seemed that Randall’s seductive charm extended to the animal kingdom as well.

“How did you do that?” she asked, rocking back on her heels to eye him in amazement.

He stroked the old Lab’s gray-flecked muzzle. “Dunno. Dogs just like me, I guess.”

Randall turned to look at her. With the sunlight on his face, his blue eyes seemed even bluer. She could see the fretwork of fine lines at their corners, lines that curved down to meet his temples as his mouth stretched in a smile. It was all she could do to keep from kissing him.

“How did it go with your dad?” she asked as they made their way to the house.

Randall’s expression clouded over. “All right, I guess.”

“What was it he wanted to talk to you about?”

“Nothing much. Just family stuff.” He appeared preoccupied, frowning down at the redwood-bark path as they strolled along, his hands jammed into the pockets of his olive-drab chinos. She sensed him holding back. When at last he raised his head to meet her gaze, his eyes were troubled and his brow furrowed. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

Before he could finish, Miss Honi stuck her head out the back door to holler, “Sugar, you been hogging that boy long enough. Bring him on in so he can meet the rest of the clan!”

Lindsay turned to Randall with a grin. “That,” she said, “is Miss Honi Love.”

Randall and Miss Honi got on like a house on fire. Within minutes it was as if they’d known each other all their lives. Over a lunch of lasagna, garlic bread, and a tossed salad, she regaled him with her colorful tales. “We weren’t called strippers in my day. We were exotic dancers,” she told him in answer to his question about her former profession. “And none of that cheap stuff they go in for today. Wriggling ’round on fellas’ laps and Lord knows what else. We were
performers
.” She tipped her chin up in proud defiance. “I know some folks don’t see it that way, but it’s no mean feat to make each and every fella feel like he’s got you alone in his bedroom, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, before you’ve taken off so much as a stitch. And we didn’t take it
all
off, neither,” she added with a sniff. “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta keep ’em guessing.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said Randall, clearly amused.

“She’s right. I went to a nude beach once, and it was a total bust,” said Kerrie Ann. She caught the double entendre and laughed. “I don’t mean there weren’t a lot of bare boobs and, you know, other body parts. Just that it wasn’t sexy. None of the guys were checking out even the chicks with hot bodies. Not like if we’d been wearing bikinis.”

“What’s sex without a little mystery?” said Lindsay, surprising herself. Normally she felt uncomfortable discussing sex, not wanting to be reminded of the days when she’d known far more about the birds and the bees than any child should.

“Amen to that.” Miss Honi stabbed with her fork at a wedge of tomato on her plate. “How d’you think I keep ’em coming back at my age? It ain’t by waltzing ’round buck naked in broad daylight, that’s for damn sure. Any fella what got a good look at that would run for the hills if he had any sense. But hell, what he don’t know won’t hurt ’im, right?”

They all chuckled over that, and when Lindsay glanced at Randall, she could see that he was thoroughly charmed.

Even Kerrie Ann, who had been a little distracted since Jeremiah’s visit, seemed to be enjoying herself. By the time coffee and dessert were served, the four of them were chatting like old friends.

“Where you been keeping this boy?” Miss Honi demanded of Lindsay as she helped herself to another slice of cake. “He’s just what we need around here, the kind of man to shake things up.” She cast Lindsay a significant glance before returning her bright-eyed gaze to Randall. “I hope you’ll come see us again. Feel free to drop by any ol’ time.”

Before he could answer, Lindsay jumped in. “Randall’s working on his new book, so I’m sure he’ll be tied up for a while.”

“Nonsense,” said Miss Honi with a wave of her beringed hand. “Ain’t no one ever too busy to sit down with friends for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake.” To emphasize her point, she took another bite of Ollie’s banana-streusel Bundt cake.

Lindsay gave Randall a strained smile. “I’m sure you get this all the time. People who think the creative process is like waving a magic wand when it’s really just plain, old-fashioned hard work.”

He grinned as he leaned back in his chair. He was enjoying himself—as was Miss Honi. The old woman clearly saw Randall as a welcome catalyst who would stir things up, put a wedge between Lindsay and Grant. If this were a Jane Austen novel, Lindsay thought, Miss Honi would have her practically married off to him by now.

“True enough,” he agreed, “but if you’re cooped up for too long, the writing tends to get a little stale. Besides, you never know, one of these days I might decide to make one of my characters a retired exotic dancer—a lovely lady of a certain age who hasn’t lost any of her powers.” He tipped a wink at Miss Honi, who, Lindsay noted with amusement, was still capable of blushing.

“If you ever want to write about life in the breakdown lane, come talk to me. I could tell you stories,” said Kerrie Ann with a frankness that surprised Lindsay—her sister didn’t usually talk about her past to those outside the program. “Like, did you ever wonder why there’s twelve steps in the twelve-step program and only ten commandments in the Bible? That’s ’cause, with us, it usually takes a couple of extra knocks on the head. And most of us never do get it right.”

“I may just take you up on that,” he said, chuckling. “In the meantime, mind if I borrow that quote?”

“Sure, help yourself.” Kerrie Ann looked pleased.

Am I the only one around here who’s managed to keep her head on her shoulders?
thought Lindsay. Not that she was immune. With Randall, she felt as if she were a passenger speeding in a car, part of her enjoying the ride and part of her wanting to slow down.

“Why don’t I show you around?” she suggested as soon as she could tear him away. “If you’re going to take pictures, you should do it while there’s still plenty of light.”

“Ladies, will you excuse me?” Randall stood, eyeing Miss Honi and Kerrie Ann with regret. “Hopefully we can continue this conversation another time.”

“Don’t be a stranger, now, you hear?” Miss Honi gave him a twin-barreled hug.

“I’ll cook you dinner some night,” volunteered Kerrie Ann.

Even Chester seemed sorry to see Randall go. He stood by the door wagging his tail and gave Lindsay an aggrieved look when she told him, “No, boy. You stay here. I’ll take you for your run later on. This is business.” She placed emphasis on the word “business.”

Outside, Randall dashed off to fetch his camera bag from his car. When he returned, she remarked wryly, “You certainly made a hit. Are you this good with all the ladies?”

“Only the ones that strike my fancy,” Randall drawled in a fair imitation of Miss Honi’s Texas twang. He reached to take Lindsay’s hand as soon as they were out of sight of the house.

It wasn’t long before they’d ventured past her tidily landscaped yard into the open field beyond, where the wildflowers were in bloom, spattering the tall grass with bright dabs of color: purple thistle and lupine, golden poppies, and the bright yellow heads of dandelions. It was late in the day, and the sky was as clear as the ocean sparkling off in the distance—a clarion call of a sky in which seabirds looped and wheeled like stunt aerialists and any stray clouds were quickly chased away by the gentle breeze that was blowing. Lindsay breathed in the salty air, thinking that if she ever had to leave this place, she’d probably wither away and die, like the native cypress that couldn’t survive outside this climate.

They walked the length of the field, Randall pausing frequently along the way to snap photos. Finally they came to a stop at the culvert that marked her property line. On the other side of the culvert lay fields, now fallow, that until recently had been a working farm.

“You’re looking at nine holes of a planned eighteen-hole golf course,” she said, pointing out the weed-choked furrows. “You can imagine how happy the Heywood Group was at my being the lone holdout. My land sits right smack in the middle of their little Xanadu.”

“A fitting analogy.” At the quizzical look she shot him, Randall explained, “You may recall that Xanadu comes from the Coleridge poem about Kublai Khan, the grandson of Genghis Khan and the founder of the Mongol dynasty. A man who stopped at nothing when conquering foreign lands.”

“Trust a writer to pinpoint the reference,” she smiled, though she felt he was missing the point. “I’m afraid I’m too close to it to have any kind of perspective. For me, it’s very personal.” She sought to explain it. “Before I came here, all I knew about the ocean came from watching movies and TV. When I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t get over it—how wild it was. How majestic. You’re always reminded of the danger as well as the beauty, and that somehow makes you feel more alive. Does that make sense?”

“Perfectly.” Randall gazed in appreciation over the field, where the furry tips of buckwheat, which grew waist-high in spots, curtseyed to the breeze, toward the ocean beyond. Then he drew her into his arms and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Where had this man come from? “You’re not alone. I have resources. I know people.”

“Thanks. I just hope it’s enough.” She was sure that Lloyd Heywood had more influence than all of Randall’s connections combined. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing,” she hastened to add. “And normally I believe in the power of the pen. But I don’t know if it’s mightier than the sword in this case.”

Randall’s brow creased as he stared past her. When he brought his gaze back to her, the frown lines were still there. “Lindsay, there’s something you should know. But first I want to tell you—”

Before he could finish, they were interrupted by the drone of a car engine. Lindsay turned to see a black Mercedes SUV making its way down the drive, trailing a plume of dust. “I wonder who that could be,” she muttered. “Unless it’s one of Heywood’s goons. And I can’t believe even
they
would stoop this low—on a Sunday.” She was getting a funny feeling, though. God might have rested on the seventh day, she thought, but the devil’s work was never done. “I’d better go see who it is.”

Randall gripped her arm. “Don’t.”

She eased her arm from his grasp. “I have to. I can’t just leave my sister and Miss Honi to deal with this.”

“Let me handle it, then.”

“I appreciate your gallantry,” she said. “But if it’s who I think it is, they won’t settle for my second.”

Randall fell into step with her as she headed back toward the house. She could see that he wasn’t happy about it as he walked stiffly at her side, his mouth drawn into a grim line.

When they got to the house, the Mercedes was parked out front. Lindsay reached it just as the driver’s-side door swung open and Lloyd Heywood, dapper in a pair of cream trousers and a fashionably creased linen blazer, climbed out. His gaze fell on Randall, and his mouth spread in a grin that revealed a row of gleaming porcelain veneers.

“Hello, son,” he greeted him.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

L
INDSAY STARED AT HIM IN SHOCK
. “This man is your
father
?”

For a second she thought Randall was going to plow his fist into the older man’s smug, smiling face. Then he turned to her with an anguished look. “It’s not what you think. If you’ll just let me explain—”

“No.” She put a hand up to ward him off as she backed away. “My God. So you’ve been lying to me all this time? Trying to trick me into going along with his scheme?” She swung around to face Lloyd Heywood. Randall’s father. She could see the resemblance now—the same build, the same nose and mouth. The same charm that masked a cold, calculating eye. And she’d believed Randall truly cared for her. What a fool she’d been!

“Lindsay, please. . .” He reached out to place a hand on her arm, but she shrank away. Randall looked stung, but he gamely plowed on, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before . . . about my family. Yes, I know I should have told you sooner. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew this was how you’d react. I didn’t want you to think I was connected to him in any way.” He shot another murderous look at the old man.

“Please, spare me. I may be naive, but I’m not an idiot.” She took another step back. “I get it now. You thought if you could get me all buttered up . . .”
and into your bed
. . . “you’d have me right where
he
wanted me.” She glared at Lloyd. “That I’d just sign on the dotted line.”

Randall looked stricken. “No, it wasn’t like that. You’ve got to believe me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I care about you, damn it!” Bands of color stood out on his cheeks, and his eyes were wild. This was not the Randall who’d had her family eating out of his hand a short while ago.

She gave a hollow laugh. “You expect me to believe that? Oh, I admit you had me fooled. I must have seemed an easy mark—the damsel in distress. All you had to do was come riding up on your white charger and sweep me off my feet.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he continued to deny. “I wasn’t part of any scheme.”

Lindsay was too angry to listen. “Well, now that you’ve had your fun, I’d like you to leave. If either of you ever sets foot on my property again, I’ll get a restraining order.” She turned to fix the elder Heywood with a frosty gaze. “Anything you have to say to me from now on, you can say to my lawyer. As for you. . .” She turned back to Randall. “We’re done.”

If Randall was shaken, the old man appeared unruffled. “In that case, I won’t take up any more of your time, my dear,” he said, as avuncular as ever. “But in all fairness to my son, you’ve misjudged him. We’re not, as you seem to think, in cahoots.” He tipped Randall a wink, as if in blatant contradiction of his words. Randall stared back at him with a flat, cold gaze.

Lindsay’s head was spinning, and she felt slightly sick to her stomach.
I’m no better than my sister
, she thought. At least Kerrie Ann had reason to believe that Jeremiah was the answer to her prayers: He was the father of her child. With Randall, all it had been was sweet talk and the hope he’d sparked in her of something that was never going to be.

Tears rose, choking off the angry words on the tip of her tongue. “Go.” This time it was more a plea than a demand. She couldn’t bear to look at him a minute longer. It hurt too much.

Randall made one last attempt. “Can I call you later? Five minutes of your time, that’s all I’m asking. Will you give me that much? Please. You don’t know the whole story.”

Lindsay shook her head. “You’d only be wasting your time.”

“You should listen to what he has to say,” advised the elder Heywood in the same unruffled tone. “If you’re looking to hang on to all this—” he gestured around him—“my son might just be your best bet. That way we could keep it all in the family.” He glanced about with an appreciative look. “And I must say, I can’t think of a nicer spot for a wedding.”

“You bastard.” Randall took a menacing step in his direction.

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your father?” Lloyd feigned a hurt look. “And here I was only trying to help. Never let it be said that I stood in the way of true love. Now, where was I. . . oh, yes.” He withdrew an envelope from the inside pocket of his blazer and handed it to Lindsay. “This is for you, my dear. Not another offer,” he was quick to add at the contemptuous look she shot him. “It’s a check. Quite a generous one, you’ll see. All you have to do is sign the quitclaim my lawyer is drawing up.” Lindsay moved to give it back to him, but he stepped back and put up his hands. “If you decide not to cash it, fine, we’ll do it your way, but give it some thought at least. It would solve your money worries, and at the end of the day you’d still have your business.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “What do you know about my business?”

“I know enough,” he said. “I know, for instance, that you’ve had to borrow against your house in order to make the payments on your bank loan. I also know that your lease is up for renewal at the end of the year and that you’re most likely looking at a substantial increase in rent. Don’t look so shocked.” He smiled. “You didn’t honestly think I wouldn’t find out everything I could about you? If I get what I want, it’s because I do my homework.”

This time Randall lunged at him, fists clenched, but the older man was as nimble on his feet as he was in his dealings. Before his son could lay a hand on him, he turned and climbed back into his shiny black SUV. Moments later he was backing out of the drive.

In a daze, Lindsay started back toward the house, trying not to stumble as she blinked back tears.

Normally she would have tried to put on a game face, but she could see as soon she walked in that it would be useless. Her sister and Miss Honi had witnessed the entire scene—the looks on their faces said it all. Miss Honi rushed over to her, throwing her arms around Lindsay. “You poor thing! Why, if I’da had a shotgun, I’da run the bastard off myself!”

Which bastard would that be?
Lindsay wondered.

“She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but I told her it would only make things worse,” said Kerrie Ann.

“You’re right, it would have.” Lindsay was grateful that for once her sister had shown some restraint. Extricating herself from Miss Honi’s embrace, she patted the older woman’s arm, as if Miss Honi were the one in need of consoling. “Don’t worry, I’ll survive. It’s probably for the best. I mean, just imagine if I hadn’t found out. I might have gone on thinking that Randall and I. . . that we. . .” She let out an involuntary little sob and squeezed her eyes shut as she fought to regain her composure. Finally she squared her shoulders, assuring them in a less than steady voice, “I’m fine, really. It was a shock, but I’ll get over it. It’s not as if we were. . .” She paused, gulping back another sob.

“Lovers?” Kerrie Ann supplied.

Lindsay gave her a blank look.

“Oh, come on,” her sister went on. “It’s no use pretending. We know the score. We weren’t born yesterday.” She nodded in the direction of Miss Honi, who nodded back in assent.

Lindsay bristled. “What is this, some sort of conspiracy? I thought you guys were on my side.”

“We are.” Kerrie Ann advanced on her, wearing a stern look. “Look, sis, I know you’re used to sucking it up, but we’re not gonna let you this time. So deal with it.”

“What your sister’s trying to say,” Miss Honi translated, “is that we love you, and we ain’t gonna leave you to wallow in your own mud.”

“Who says I’m wallowing?” But Lindsay’s protest was without much conviction. The truth was, she felt as if she weren’t so much wallowing as drowning. She staggered over to the easy chair by the fireplace, collapsing into it. For a long while, she just sat there shaking her head. Finally she said in a hollow voice, “Please tell me none of this is happening.”

Miss Honi lowered herself onto the footstool beside Lindsay’s chair. “Wishing it ain’t so won’t make it go away. You got to face facts.”

“What facts are those? That Randall’s a lying bastard? I think that’s been pretty well established,” Lindsay replied bitterly, an invisible knife twisting in her gut at the thought.

“I don’t mean him. You got bigger problems than that.”

“Such as?”

“Such as what you’re gonna do if the
real
bastard has his way. He’s right about one thing—you could lose it all, and not just the ranch. You need to look at what’s best in the long run.”

“What are you suggesting?” asked Lindsay.

“You could sell this place.” Miss Honi cast a mournful look around her. “I know. I don’t like the idea any more’n you do. But sometimes you gotta know when to fold ’em.”

“This is my home!” Lindsay cried. “I can’t just
leave
.”

“Sure, you can,” said the older woman with her usual pragmatism. “You can do just about anything you set your mind to. Always have, ever since you were this high.” She put her hand out level with the back of Lindsay’s chair. “The way you looked after your sister when she was little, why anyone woulda thought you were her momma. And you barely old enough to look after yourself. A little setback like this ain’t gonna change nothing. Before you know it, you’ll be back on your feet.”

Lindsay was touched by the show of support, despite the fact that this was hardly a “little setback.” More like a major catastrophe. “I’m sure I’ll manage if it comes to that,” she said. “But damn it,” her hands balled into fists, “I’m
not
going down without a fight.”

“I been thinking. . .” Miss Honi looked down at the cat that had crawled into her lap, absently scratching it behind the ears. “I got a little bit of money saved up, thanks to you. Enough to get by, with my Social Security. I could get a little place of my own, somewhere in town, close enough so I could walk to work. Maybe it’d be easier if you had one less person to worry about.”

Lindsay spoke firmly. “You’re not going anywhere—either of you.” She cast a resolute glance at Kerrie Ann, who looked a little worried. “I’m counting on you both to get me through this. And if we lose. . .” She let out a sigh. “I guess we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Miss Honi nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She replied in a throaty voice, “I was kinda hoping you’d say that.”

They both looked to Kerrie Ann, who stood silent. There was a time when Lindsay might have mistaken her flat expression for a sign that she didn’t care, but over the past weeks she’d come to see it for what it was: a mask that hid a world of emotions. At last Kerrie Ann shrugged and said, “Whatever you guys want, I’m in. Hey, it’s not like I have a choice.” A corner of her mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “There’s just one thing. . .” She looked down at the envelope containing the check, which Lindsay hadn’t realized she was still holding. “Don’t you want see how much it’s for?”

Lindsay had forgotten all about it. Now, she pried it open, saying, “This is stupid. It’s not like it’s going to make a difference.”

“You should at least know what you’re playing for,” her sister reasoned.

Lindsay withdrew the check from the envelope as Miss Honi and Kerrie Ann gathered around to have a look. They were all speechless.

Finally Kerrie Ann said in an awed voice, “I’ve never seen so many zeros on a check.”

Miss Honi looked up at Lindsay. “He must think it’d be pretty darn tempting to someone in your shoes.”

“He’d be right.” Kerrie Ann went on staring at the check, wide-eyed, before recovering her wits and casting Lindsay a contrite look. “I’m just saying. But hey, it’s your money. Do what you want.”

“It’s not
my
money.” Lindsay stuffed the check back into the envelope. “I have absolutely no intention of cashing this. If those two crooks imagine I can be bought off, then they don’t know who they’re dealing with!”

“Whoa.” Miss Honi put out a hand. “Seems a little unfair, don’t it, branding ’em both with the same iron. You can’t be sure our boy was in on this.” Lindsay wondered when Randall had become “our boy.” Wasn’t it obvious that he was as much the enemy as dear old dad? “Don’t you think you oughta at least hear what he has to say? He don’t strike me as the type to pull the wool over someone’s eyes. ’Specially not someone he’s sweet on.”