Summer on Kendall Farm (4 page)

The words hurt for some reason. She would never be a Kendall. “That’s true, but...I belong here. I feel it. I suppose it was because I grew up so close to the place. The Kendall had survived war and depression, and I wanted to be a survivor, too, in my own way.” Things were often out of sorts in her own home. The Kendall was her anchor.

“Why haven’t you changed its name then? You’ve been here two years.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “It wouldn’t be the same. For over a century this has been the Kendall. Changing a name would change the nature of the place.”

“Do you know where my brother is?” He abruptly switched subjects.

“I haven’t seen him. In fact, I never saw him. The entire transaction was completed between the bank and the county. Your brother wasn’t ever required to be there.”

“Why didn’t he pay the taxes? Sheldon loved being the lord of the manor.”

“I don’t know. People in town said it was mismanagement. Given the state of the property when I showed up, it wouldn’t be hard to believe.”

“It wasn’t necessary to the sale,” Jace said, and Kelly heard the censure in his voice.

“It wasn’t my business,” she told him. “I didn’t force your brother to get into trouble with his finances and there was no reason why I should help him if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Ari, don’t do that,” Jace shouted. He was on his feet, ready to run and aid his son if necessary.

Kelly quickly followed Jace’s gaze to where the child stood. His foot was in midair as if he’d been paralyzed by the urgency in Jace’s voice. Ari had been about to climb a ladder propped up on the side of the barn. It wouldn’t take much for Ari to tumble over.

“I should think you’d be glad someone who really cares about the Kendall bought it,” she said. “It could have gone to a developer who would raze the house and subdivide it into apartments or condos.”

She left him then and went into the house. She had work to do and she was grossly behind getting started.

* * *

T
HIS
WAS
NOT
the homecoming Jace expected.

Rushing forward, he headed for Ari. When the boy saw him coming, he took off and ran for him. His weak leg dragged a little behind, but Ari compensated. Already Jace thought he was doing better. He hadn’t had a problem with his asthma today; surely Kelly would have told him if Ari had had restricted breathing.

“Dad, can we go in the barn?” he asked, instinctively taking his hand and pulling him in that direction.

“Let’s go look at where the horses used to live,” Jace said.

“Wow! Horses!”

The barn was a few hundred feet from the house. While the weather last night had been wet, the grass under their feet was already dry. Jace thought the silence was eerie. Back in his day, he should have heard the horses by now.

Jace pulled the barn door open all the way, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust before stepping into the dim light. Ari scampered forward, eager to see.

The faint scent of horse manure and cleanser permeated the air. Jace frowned as anger stole over him. The horses had been his sanctuary. How dare Sheldon let the Kendall fall apart to the point where there were no horses here.

Their great-great-grandfather had provided for the upkeep of the house by investing in and training horses, race horses especially. Evidently, he was very good at it since he forged a legacy that had continued for generations. It was Sheldon’s legacy and Jace’s, too—no matter what his father thought—to keep it alive by offering the best in boarding and rearing horses. And now they were gone.

“Where are the horses, Dad? Are they all in Texas?”

Ari had no concept of the size of the United States. Texas could have been on the other side of the barn as far as he knew. He’d seen horses on television and the logic of a four-year-old jumped to explain.

“I don’t know where they are, Ari.”

“We’ll have to ask Kelly,” he said positively. “She will know.”

Jace doubted that.

* * *

K
ELLY
MASSAGED
HER
temples as she studied father and son from her office window. They disappeared around the side of the horse barn. She knew Jace loved horses. He’d ride as if the devil himself was after him, but then he’d spend an hour in the barn, making sure to cool down the treasured animal.

Eventually, she wanted to have horses boarding here, and if possible, expand the operation even further. Some day she planned on having allowance races run here, and eventually move up to stakes races. But she had other things to do with the small amount of money she still had in her account.

Telling herself she’d deal with Jace later, she pulled her hair into a long ponytail and went to the library. It was the last unfinished room in the house. It needed to be painted and decorated.

With all the prep work done, it was time to put the paint on the walls. Kelly scrubbed her roller up and down in the pan to prevent drips and raised it to the wall. The soft blue transformed the space. She liked it already. The steady action gave her time to think.

What was she going to do with Jason Kendall and his son? And why did she believe it was her duty to do anything? Jace was a grown man. He had to be nearing thirty by now. He seemed to be responsible, at least where Ari was concerned. She’d given them one night only. He should be searching for a new place to stay, instead of hanging out at an estate he never owned. His own father mustn’t have thought much of him to do that to him. That was the rumor Kelly had heard. She’d felt sorry for Jace at the time. She realized that as a kid she’d been caught up in how things looked around here. That just because the Kendalls had a lovely house and lovely horses, didn’t mean their family was any less troubled than hers. It occurred to her that there were some old files and family photos she’d moved into the attic, since the sale of the property had included all of the furnishings.

It was as if Sheldon had walked away with only the clothes on his back. She supposed she should give those items to Jace.

The blue wall looked beautiful. She stepped back, analyzed her work. Smiling, she thought when the books were brought back into the room, it would be a welcome place to sit and read.

Kelly dropped her shoulders. She felt an allegiance to Jace, although that made no sense. She hadn’t known him well while they were growing up, but he was a Kendall. And this had been his home once.

Maybe she should give him a job. The place could use his help. He could stay until he found a place of his own.

Stepping back, she said, “Yes, that works.” Though her eyes were on the wall, she was talking about Jace.

“Kelll-ly!”

She heard Ari’s sweet voice calling her name.

“Down here,” she hollered.

She heard footsteps running toward the room. The door was already open for ventilation. Ari found her and rushed forward.

“Don’t run,” she told him, lifting a hand to catch him.

Too late. His little body sailed across the drop cloth. His feet came out from under him and he slipped, momentum carrying him several feet before he stopped.

Jace was on his heels behind him. Kelly grabbed the paint tray and held it still. Then she faced Jace.

“Are you all right?” she asked the child.

Ari looked up. “That was fun. Can I do it again?”

Jace let out the breath he must have been holding. “No, you cannot,” he said.

Kelly, who was on her knees, sat back on her legs. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Ari nodded.

Jace looked at the walls and immediately took in the one Kelly had been working on. “Did he do any damage?”

“I don’t think so. But he might have a bruise tomorrow on his legs. There’s hardwood under this tarp.”

Jace examined Ari, pulling his pant leg aside and looking at him.

“Dad,” Ari protested and pulled his clothes back. “Not in front of her.” His voice was a stage whisper.

Kelly turned her head. “I won’t look. I promise.”

“I think you’ll live,” Jace said several seconds later.

“Where are the horses?” Ari asked.

Subject changes were no problem for four-year-olds Kelly was finding.

“We went to the horse barn,” Jace explained. “It’s empty.”

“Well, Ari, the former owner sold the horses in an attempt to pay off the debt on the Kendall.”

Jace’s jaw clenched. She understood his frustration. Since arriving here, everything he thought he knew was gone, starting with Laura. And although Kelly had nothing to do with any of it, she could see that this proud man was hurting.

“What are we gonna do now, Dad?” Ari, unaware of any of the adults’ feelings, was ready for the next adventure.

“Ari, would you like to see some pictures of horses?” she asked.

“Wow, yeah.”

“They’re on the table in the big living room down the hall. Do you remember where that is?”

He looked at his dad as if Jace might deny the chance to him. Jace nodded.

“Yes. I remember.” Ari started to move, but Jace restrained him.

“Walk,” his father said.

The little boy walked out of the room with both adults watching him.

“I have a proposal for you,” she told Jace.

“What is it?”

She saw him stiffen. “You’re an engineer?”

He nodded.

“What kind of engineer?”

“Civil,” he said, his voice almost a challenge.

“Does that mean you know about bridges and roads, things like that?”

“It does. I also know about water lines and—”

“How about construction?” she interrupted.

“Some.”

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

“What?”

“Do you have one? Someplace to go? I thought your showing up here last night was the last stop on a long journey.”

“It was,” he said. “What kind of job?”

“As an engineer, of sorts. Although, I can’t pay you what an engineer probably makes, I can offer room and board for you and Ari and a small wage. You can consider it temporary until you find something better.”

He mulled that over for a moment. “What do I do?”

“You help me get the rest of this property in shape.”

He looked around the library. The ceiling and trim work had been done. She was making headway on the walls. The shelves were gleaming white and leaning against a door on the other side of the room.

“It looks like you have everything under control.” His gaze swept back to her.

“Don’t go by the condition of the house. I have some serious issues that need attention.”

“Like what?”

“Irrigation, for one. You said you knew about water. I want to make sure there’s proper runoff and drainage for the pastures and build safer pathways around the grounds.”

“You expecting a lot of visitors?”

“Yes, hopefully,” she said. “What about it? Will you take the job?”

“Dad!” Ari came bounding back, running fast and hard. He stopped just before careening into Jace. “Can I get my own horse?”

Jace turned and looked at Kelly. “Maybe,” he said.

CHAPTER FOUR

W
INDSOR
H
EIGHTS
WASN
’
T
exactly on the cutting edge of the twenty-first century, though as Jason drove into town he noticed how different the place looked. Because he had often been away for long periods of time with boarding school, college and working, Jace’s trips back to the Kendall made him more able to see the changes as sweeping rather than subtle. First, the number of cars on the street alone could cause a traffic jam. As far as he knew, there had never been a traffic jam in Windsor Heights. There were new stores along Main Street. He saw that the old dress shop had had a facelift. The bookstore was gone, replaced by an office supply store. The bank, however, was in the same place and while it was five years older, it appeared as new as it had been when it was built.

Jace opened its heavy door and walked through. Nothing here was different. The loan office was in the same place and Jace went directly toward it.

“Jason! Jason Kendall.” Someone called his name. “Is that you? I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you in years.”

A man behind a glass wall stood up and came out, his hand outstretched. Jace took it, recognizing him only after he was already pumping his hand.

“Kurt Mallard,” Jace said, grateful to find someone he’d once known. “Who would have thought?”

“Come on in and sit down a minute. Tell me what brings you back to Windsor Heights?”

Jace noticed his door had Kurt Mallard, Loan Officer printed on it in small black letters.

“My home,” he said. Jace took a seat. “I’m here about the Kendall.”

Kurt frowned. “It’s a shame about that.” Then his face cleared and the frown was replaced with a smile.

“But it seems the new owner is working miracles restoring it. Have you met her yet?”

Jace didn’t get to answer.

Kurt continued, “She’s a beauty. Got flaming red hair. When she’s in here and the sun shines through that window...” He pointed to a window outside the office “It’s like fire.”

“I’ve met her,” Jace cut in.

Kurt chuckled and cleared away some papers on his desk.

“So you’re the loan officer,” Jace pointed out.

“Never thought I’d make it, did you?”

Kurt had been the other bad boy of Windsor Heights. While the two of them rarely cut up together, Jace knew of him, his antics and the gang he ran around with. None of them were people Jace cared to be associated with. Kurt was on the school’s football team and many people looked the other way at the things he did for that reason. Jace was the prep school kid, the rich kid, the one who lived in the big house. He wasn’t welcome by even the bullies of the area. After that Jace lost track of Kurt. But now Kurt worked at the bank and Jace’s family no longer owned the big house. That privilege was held by a determined redhead unafraid to get her hands dirty.

“Kurt, I’m here for a loan,” Jace said, opting for the cold, hard truth.

Kurt shifted in his chair. “Okay,” he said. “What’s the loan for?”

“I want to buy the Kendall.”

Kurt smiled warmly. “This is great. I’m glad Ms. Ashton is willing to sell it back to you. After all, the Kendall should be owned by a Kendall.” He laughed a hearty sound.

“Well, there’s a slight issue there.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I only got back into town last night. I have a little money, but I’d need a big mortgage.”

Kurt leaned forward. “So far, that seems like something we might be able to work out.” He reached sideways and pulled a packet of documents out of a vertical file stand.

“The only collateral I have is my name.”

Jace watched him visibly recoil.

“Has Ms. Ashton agreed to allow you to take over the mortgage?”

Jace shook his head.

“Does she even know you’re here?”

Again he shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help you, Jason. Besides having no collateral and no agreement from the owner to sell, currently you’re unemployed, I assume. The bank requires at least that you have a job in order for me to approve a loan. I’m afraid even filling out the paperwork will be of no use.” He looked at the packet on his desk.

“I do have a job,” Jace said.

“Where?”

“It’s at the Kendall.”

“You have a job at the Kendall?” The eyebrows went up.

Jace nodded.

“How long have you worked there?”

“I only got back yesterday.”

“So you begin tomorrow?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, tomorrow.”

“That’s not going to be long enough. For a mortgage, which you don’t qualify for, we need several pieces of paperwork, including your last three check stubs. I’m sorry Jace.”

“I have those. I worked in South America.”

“Good. What did you do there?”

“I’m an engineer. I worked on a water pipeline.”

“Do you own any property?”

Jace shook his head.

Kurt frowned. “I can give you the paperwork. It will tell you what we require, but without a willingness to sell from Ms. Ashton, it’s likely a waste of time.”

Jace stood up. “Thanks anyway,” he said. Jace knew it would be a problem getting money, but he had to try. His son’s well-being was at stake. He shook hands with Kurt and left.

Out on the street, Jace went to his car and got in. He didn’t start the engine. He sat thinking, wanting to come up with something he could do to get his house back. Kurt had said he was a Kendall and a Kendall should own the property that had been in his family since the Civil War. With the way he’d been treated, sometimes even he wondered why the house meant so much to him. It shouldn’t. But it did.

When he left years ago, angry at the world and everything in it, he wanted nothing but to get as far from the Kendall as he could. But running away didn’t take the place out of him. He missed it, missed the horses and the riding. He missed the familiarity of it, even the safety. While his father and brother weren’t model parent and sibling, he had enough distractions to ignore their influence on him. And he did what he liked.

Yet when he was in South America he longed for the Kendall. He told himself Ari was the reason for his return and that was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Jace had been stumbling around the world, trying to forget, but it was useless. He missed home, wanted to go back. Ari was only the catalyst he used to make the decision.

And now he was here. And everything was different. He was back, but he wasn’t home. He was still the stable boy, trying to win over the new lady of the manor.

* * *

S
HELDON
PULLED
THE
door of his beach bungalow closed. He was headed to the dock to complete a day’s work. He squinted at the bright sunshine. Then he heard the laughter. He knew it was in his mind because it was Laura’s laugh, her sound. He thought of the photo of her in a frame next to his bed. Her picture was the only thing he’d kept from the Kendall.

She was gone now. Sheldon wanted to remember her only as she’d been in the photo, smiling, dressed in a beautiful gown and standing on the staircase at the Kendall. Their lives were tangled, twined together like the never-ending root system of the common mangrove tree.

After he and Laura married, Jason took off. Neither he nor Laura spoke of him. It became a silent, wordless rule.

Sheldon always wondered why his father never thought of Jason as a son. Not wanting to risk the old man’s wrath, Sheldon hadn’t asked for a reason. Laura felt it was a sore point with Sheldon, since initially she had come to the Kendall with Jason, and Sheldon, following his father’s lead, had almost nothing to do with him, either. It’s as if he didn’t exist in their world. But that world had disappeared.

Sheldon went back to work. He bent down and scraped. The barnacles fell off the hull and onto the tarp he’d placed on the wharf. He thought of Laura. She’d been the light of his life. Everything he did and thought revolved around her. He’d been a better man with Laura.

After Laura died, Sheldon had no fight left in him. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t concentrate on anything, especially the Kendall. When he came out of his grief enough to notice the farm, things had fallen apart. He didn’t know how much time had gone by exactly. It was too late when he tried to save the place. He knew it wouldn’t work anyway. He wasn’t a good manager. He wasn’t his father. And he no longer had Laura to help him. The farm had been failing for years, but he’d hidden the information from Laura. If he’d told her maybe they could have saved the place, but his life was built on bad decisions.

And treating Jason as if he didn’t belong and wasn’t part of the family was one of them.

“Mr. Kendall,” a familiar voice spoke to him.

Sheldon looked up. “Good morning,” he said. Audrey Thompson stood in front of him. She was a small woman, slightly overweight. He was fifty-one and he estimated she, too, was probably in her early fifties. She spoke to him daily when she walked along the marina. It was part of her exercise program she told him. Audrey was raising her grandson. Her daughter, a single mom, died after her car was struck by a drunk driver when the child was six. He was nine now.

“You’re out in the heat, I see,” Sheldon said.

“The North Carolina sunshine can be unforgiving. The camp bus was a little late, and I had to get to the post office. How are you this morning?”

She asked the same question every day he saw her, which was usually Monday through Friday. “I’m managing,” he answered her as he always did.

She waved then and kept walking. Sheldon watched her go. He was impressed with how she doted on her grandson. She was patient and caring. Sheldon had often seen them along the water. Audrey mentioned she was a schoolteacher and had the summer off, so she had the days to tell the boy about the sky, the clouds, the sea, sea creatures, the sand. Sheldon even heard her explaining how glass was made from sand. He was surprised to learn the process himself.

It was amazing the things he didn’t know and had never been interested in before. But what was more amazing was watching the way she treated her grandson with kindness and love. His father had never treated either him or Jason with the sort of care Audrey bestowed on her grandson. Sheldon had been cloistered in his father’s narrow-minded world. Sheldon was glad to see how other people lived and how they looked after one another.

When noon came, Sheldon knocked off for lunch and headed home. Along the beach were a series of cheap but cheerful bungalows that could barely be called houses, but that’s what they were for some of the lower-income families in the community. Sheldon lived in one of these cottages that he rented from a man in town. The summer was sweltering, but this past winter, when he’d arrived in Meadesville, and taken the cottage, the winds had blown in off the Atlantic and swirled around the estuary freezing his fingers and feet. He longed for his warm bed back in Maryland. But that was no longer his and would never be again. Sheldon didn’t want to see the place where he had been born and raised go to strangers. He wondered what it was like now. When he’d left the Kendall, the main house was no longer the pristine white color with black shutters it had been before his father died. When Sheldon was locked out the grass was overgrown, the paint was peeling and there were several leaks needing repair. The barn was empty and Sheldon owed thousands of dollars for feed, repairs and services. He had every cent he owned—$208.76—in his pocket when he was evicted.

That hadn’t taken him far and he found himself doing things only Jason would do. He hated Jason more then. Irrationally, he knew his predicament wasn’t Jason’s fault, but Jason would think nothing of hitchhiking, digging ditches, working on road crews or taking refuge at a homeless shelter. It was beneath Sheldon. He thought he would never do anything like that.

But he had.

He’d done that and more. When he couldn’t find a soup kitchen, when he was too far from anyplace, when he had no more money, he scoured trash cans, looking for anything to eat to stay alive. Now he had a job and a place to live. His pay was a little more than minimum wage. He had no savings and usually cooked and ate his own meals—simple ones, nothing fancy. His bathroom had no mirror in it, so he didn’t always know what he looked like, but the last time he saw a reflection in a store window, he seemed identical to his father if his father was a fiftysomething vagrant. He had a beard and unkempt hair. He’d lost at least forty pounds and wore thrift-store finds.

He no longer resented Jason. Jason was a survivor. He would adapt, do what was necessary to get back on his feet. Sheldon used his brother, no longer thinking of him as a half brother, as an inspiration. Every time he wanted to quit the menial job, he considered what Jason would do. Jason would stick it out. He’d perform the tasks at an exemplary level until he raised enough money to move on. Then he’d go to the next job. Sheldon was a Kendall, and while Jason was also a Kendall, his half brother had a tougher bloodline on his mother’s side. It had made him strong. Surely Sheldon could at least do half of what Jason would do.

Again, he stopped to look over the marina and speculate where Jason might be. Had leaving the farm destroyed any love he had for the Kendall? Would he ever return? Sheldon was hardly in a place to know. He didn’t ever expect to see the Kendall again himself. Knowing it was no longer in his family, yet being nearby, would be too much for him. He’d disappointed his father and the generations of Kendalls that had come before him.

He would not go back.

In his bungalow, Sheldon set a small pot in which he’d dumped a can of soup on the burner and waited for it to heat. Even though the temperature outside was nearing the century mark, he lunched on soup and bread, saving his dinner for the larger meal of the day. Tonight he was having canned chili with rice.

Sheldon ate leisurely and alone. When he finished, he cleaned his dishes, set them in the drainer for use later and took a quick shower. He changed clothes and headed back to the cabin cruiser he was working on.

“Whatcha doing?” Christian Mitchell, Audrey’s grandson asked.