Hotel Ladd Page 5

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Casey will love you every step of the way.” Annie laughed, the sound of sweet heaven to his ears.

  “How did you become so wise?”

  “The hard way, darlin’. I turned wise the hard way.”

  Cal drove Annie to Murfreesboro, the near two hour drive a comfortable visit between friends, though privately, Annie was beginning to view Cal as much more than a friend. When he cupped her chin today, she nearly wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Her feelings went beyond friendship. Stabs of longing moved deep inside her, stirring urges she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Cal was there for her. He didn’t take no for an answer. He stayed, he persisted. He let her know in no uncertain terms that she mattered. That he cared.

  A tingle of delight scurried through her. Dressed in a hunter green flannel button-down and jeans, Cal looked good, the colors blending with his hazel brown eyes. Fine brown hair fell in soft layers, his summer tan long since faded. Woodsy, masculine, unlike the more rugged ways of his brothers, Cal struck her as a more subdued cowboy, a country gentleman. Fed up with the cocky, boisterous types of men floating through the town’s streets and bars, Annie preferred Cal’s laid-back style. It was quiet, respectful, yet every ounce as strong. And for her, a very special feeling to be valued by such a man. After Jeremiah, there had been a few nice men, but eventually the relationships soured. Men seemed more interested in themselves than her and her young daughter. She had a busy life, a commitment to Casey. Somehow, men seemed to be squeezed out of the equation. Annie glanced to her side, Cal’s hand steady on the wheel. But not him. He stayed. He knew today could get ugly yet here he was, driving her there himself. Was he a masochist?

  No. She suppressed a faint chuckle. Cal was no masochist or weirdo. He was good old-fashioned manliness.

  A few miles before they reached the town of Murfreesboro, Cal turned at a sign reading Creek’s Bend Ranch and followed a long winding dirt road through a sprawling estate. Oiled-brown board fencing outlined the property, cutting well-manicured pastures and marking horse runs. In the distance sat a length of stables, painted barn red and trimmed in white. They were impressive in size and Annie imagined capable of housing at least two dozen stalls. With gentle rolling hills, expansive fields of green against a backdrop of fall-drenched mountains, the ranch looked like it was peeled clear off a brochure boasting the finest in Tennessee living. “Wow, this is some kind of beautiful.”

  “Sure is,” Cal acknowledged. “Dwarfs our ranch back home.”

  “But your place is gorgeous, Cal.” He smiled, as though her comment was no more than an attempt to elevate the stature of his family’s ranch. She placed a hand to his forearm. “I’m serious. Your place is beautiful. I’ve always admired it.”

  “Have you?”

  She smiled, a shade timidly. “I have.”

  “When’s the last time you went riding, Annie?”

  “Oh, gosh...” She exhaled heavily, releasing him. “It’s been forever since I’ve been on a horse.”

  “Would you like to go riding sometime? My Daddy has a stable full of horses that would love the pleasure of your company.”

  Annie grinned at his obvious ploy, yet she found she liked the idea. It had been years since she’d been riding. She loved being on horseback, and a trail ride with Cal held an added appeal. It would be romantic riding around with him, the two of them alone in the woods. Annie trimmed her thoughts, thrusting her gaze out the window as a rush of desire flipped her belly. It would be lovely. Absolutely lovely. “Yes, I think that would be a good idea.”

  Cal reached over and patted her hand. “I’ll set it up.”

  Nodding, and very aware Cal left his hand over hers, she stared out through the windshield. Hopefully Casey would be back home, allowing her to relax enough to enjoy the ride.

  Cal parked outside the paddocks and opened the door for her. “You’ll be doing all the talking. If you want me to step in, just give me a nod, and I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “Thank you, Cal. For everything.”

  “You know it’s my pleasure, Annie.” He pecked her cheek with a kiss, then steered her toward the building. Together, they sought the main entrance, a door labeled, “Office.”

  Angst exploded in her chest and her heart fluttered, but Annie was determined to get her daughter and see her home. Since it was close to noon, she hoped the staff wasn’t out to lunch. Biding her time in a strange ranch would only ramp up her nerves. Cal opened the metal door and she entered, finding the interior larger than she expected. Quite spacious and clean, it was infused with the familiar scent of leather, hay and horses. Tack adorned the walls along with a miscellany of memorabilia and ribbons, a few photos. Cal had told her the ranch specialized in breeding, but it appeared they also did quite well showing their horses, too.

  A stout man sat behind a wooden desk, his head balding, his plaid shirt groaning at the seams. He smiled as they walked in, the folds of his friendly eyes crinkling beneath his glasses. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re looking for Troy Parker.”

  He nodded. “Is he expecting you?”

  “No,” she stumbled over the reply and silently cursed her ineptness. She needed to be calm and firm. Normal. Her only chance to see that Casey listened to reason.

  “No problem.” He rolled back in his chair. “I’ll go fetch him for you.”

  But that wouldn’t be necessary. In through the rear exit door walked the young man himself. Wearing a black cowboy hat, with his brown hair poking out a bit in front, Troy slowed when he saw who she was. His dark brown eyes turned black, suspicion mingling with concern. He flashed to his boss who grinned. “Well speak of the devil. These folks are here to see you, Troy.”

  “Yes sir,” he replied perfunctorily. As he took note of Cal, curiosity seemed to underscore his concern. Removing his hat, he said, “Hello, Ms. Owens.”

  “Troy.”

  Cal walked over and extended a hand. “Cal Foster. I’m a family friend.” Warily, Troy shook it.

  “Can we speak to you in private?” Annie asked.

  Troy checked with the man, who apparently was a boss of some sort. The older man nodded. “Take all the time you need.” Then to Annie and Cal, he added, “Troy is one of our best hands. We’re real proud of him around here.”

  Annie smiled. She wasn’t interested in his accolades. She was here for her daughter.

  Troy slipped on his hat and walked out the front door. Strolling to a spot several yards away, he stopped, shooting a glance around the property. “What can I do for you?”

  “We’re here to retrieve Casey.”

  “I ain’t her keeper,” Troy replied, his annoyance mildly concealed.

  “Is she with you?”

  Troy glanced askance. “No.”

  “Is she here?”

  “Not here, no ma’am.”

  Growing aggravated with his evasive replies, Annie straightened, intending to make herself perfectly clear. “Is she here in Murfreesboro? I need to know, Troy. She’s run away and I need to know that at least she’s safe.”

  Troy looked away. “She’s safe.”

  Annie heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  For a moment no one said a word. Cal hovered by her side, Troy peered at her from the shadows of his hat, probably wondering what she was going to do about her grown child who had left her, run off because she wanted to be with him. She could feel the adversarial tone in his stance, the edge to his attitude.

  Troy was on Casey’s side. He wanted her here.

  The crisp air seared a chill into her cheeks. A few puffy white clouds floated overhead. A single cowboy led a horse from behind a nearby paddock. Slow, easy, their pace was unhurried. Annie’s patience hung from a thread. “I want her to come home, Troy.”

  “She’s an adult. You may want to check with her.”

  “But you have influence with her.”

  He glared at her, as though to underscore the fac
t that Annie did not. Losing the steam of her conviction, Annie turned to Cal. He looked at her with the question in his eyes. Do you want me to step in?

  She shook her head. This was her battle. Returning to face Troy, she asked, “Will you have her call me? I need to speak with her.”

  “Casey has a mind of her own,” he replied, as if Annie didn’t know her own child. “If she wants to talk to you, she’ll call.”

  Rattled by his stubborn refusal, she glanced around the ranch, grappling for alternatives. The compact blue car barreling toward them, spitting a wake of dust, stopped her heart. Casey.

  She whipped back to Troy. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming here?”

  In a horribly inadequate manner, he merely shrugged. He knew she was on her way? Annie turned her back on him and waited as Casey parked. Circling the vehicle, the girl froze. Even from this distance Annie could see the influx of shock and anger. A dry wedge lodged in Annie’s throat. Had she expected Casey to be happy to see her?

  Casey stormed over. After a cursory glance toward Troy, she demanded, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to take you home.”

  “I’m not going home.”

  “Casey—”

  “This is my home now,” she said, but that didn’t prevent her from checking with Troy. He nodded. “So you can turn around and go back where you came from.”

  Annie marveled at how Casey marched over and took up residence by Troy’s side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, an arm she was clearly comfortable with having. The two stood in solidarity.

  When did this happen? How long had they been together?

  “Casey...” Annie paused, reason warring with instinct. “I think we can discuss this like two rational adults.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. If I had wanted you to know where I was, I would have left a note. I would have answered one of your zillion calls. I didn’t.” Disgust wrinkled her features. “Can’t you take a hint?”

  She didn’t want to take a hint—she wanted her daughter home! Annie desperately tried to sidestep the quicksand burying her feet. “I don’t understand you. I’ve been fighting for your rights, paying money to keep Ladd Springs so your future is set and this is how you repay me?”

  “You’re not doing any of that because of me. You’re doing it for you.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Your name is on the deed, too.”

  “As trustee!” she cried, realizing at once her daughter had no idea what that meant, how it played into her life. Shoot! Annie had only learned when Delaney made the designation and explained it to her.

  “It’s crap and you know it,” Casey spat.

  “Casey Melody!”

  She flicked a glance toward Cal and said, “I’m not going, so why don’t you two get back in your truck and go home.”

  Annie felt Cal’s hand circle around her arm, the sweater no barrier against the heat of his palm. He gently tightened his hold, but Annie refused to budge. “I don’t understand, Casey. What brought this on? Why are you behaving this way? You ran out on your Aunt Fran, you worried me to death...”

  Casey swung her weight to one booted heel, the one closest to Troy, and countered, “I doubt it. Nothing is about me. It’s never been about me.” The accusation cut deep. “I don’t give a crap about Ladd Springs or the man you slept with me to create me.” Casey twisted her face. “How could you ever have been with someone like him?”

  Chapter Six

  It was a question Annie had asked herself many times. How could she have been with a man like Jeremiah Ladd? What had possessed her?

  Was it his looks? Was that it? Had she been so shallow as a teenager that all she wanted were looks in a man and she’d give herself willingly to him? It made Annie sick. Same as the look in her daughter’s eyes, it made Annie sick to think she had wanted a man like Jeremiah, then chased him for two decades to prove he was the father of her child. What she should have done was leave well enough alone. Tell Casey she was adopted and make up a “father” story. Anything but the truth.

  Rising from her car, Annie reached for her coat but abandoned the effort. It was a thirty second walk into the diner from here. She could make it in her sweater dress and leggings. She tossed the door closed and headed toward the retro-styled building. Fran hadn’t changed a thing since her husband Deacon had passed, including the bleached out exterior blue paint. The red neon lights spelling out Fran’s Diner were straight out of the fifties, a tired exterior that Annie thought her aunt should update. Surely she had the money to refurbish it. At least, re-paint the darn place. It made it look old, rundown. But renovating a restaurant wasn’t her problem, Annie mused, swinging open its glass entrance door. Casey was. Time to tell Fran her employee wasn’t coming back.

  Lingering in the diner entryway, Annie felt a pinch of yearning. She was supposed to be meeting Cal for lunch today but in no mood to discuss logging matters or rehash the scene with Casey and Troy, she’d cancelled. She’d been in no mood yesterday, either, wanting nothing more than to get home, curl up into a ball and die. She’d settled for crawling into bed, but it hadn’t done any good. Standing alone now, engulfed by the scent of fried chicken and oven-baked buttermilk biscuits, a hint of Fran’s Sunday Roast Beef floating into the mix, Annie regretted the need to cancel on Cal. It sent the wrong signals. He’d only been trying to help.

  But there was no help for Annie. Casey and Troy pervaded her dreams, the two of them taunting her, laughing, saying horrible things behind her back. How could Casey be with that boy after he paraded around town with her father’s girlfriend? Did she have no sense of decency, no shame? The whole town knew about Troy and Loretta Flynn, Lacy’s friend, the stripper from Atlanta. Annie knew it was true. Lacy said so herself.

  How was it possible?

  The world felt like it was upside down. Sitting in church this morning had helped a little, but it didn’t erase her problems. Her daughter hated her. She couldn’t afford the property taxes. Her life was a mess.

  “Ms. Owens.”

  The serpent-smooth voice curled around Annie like a steel rope. She looked behind her, startled to see Jillian Devane three feet away. Dressed entirely in black, the woman iced her with an accusatory gaze. “You said you were going to call me.”

  Annie had completely forgotten. “Yes, well,” she replied, no energy to lie or play coy, “I had more important things on my mind.”

  Jillian smiled through the insult. “Do you have time now?”

  Annie looked at her blankly. Now? Here? She ran a quick inventory of the witnesses privy to this interaction. No Nick, no Delaney, no Lacy, no Cal. No one in her inner circle—though any number of people could spread the word that would eventually make it to their ears. Good thing she wasn’t meeting Cal for lunch. Annie honed in on Jillian. She’d have a heck of a time explaining this one, yet ventured nonetheless, “I have a second.”

  “Thank you. Care to join me?” Jillian gave her a wry smile and strolled over to a booth by the front window. Annie spotted a glass of water and half-eaten plate of sliced red tomatoes and realized Jillian was in the middle of lunch.

  Annie groaned inwardly. Nothing like broadcasting their meeting to everyone inside and out! But she slid onto the bench seat across from Jillian and prepared herself for the conversation. She’d had no time to think about the offer, no time to discuss the details of a logging contract with Cal. She’d been consumed with Casey’s whereabouts. Cal said Delaney was fine with the logging deal, but other than details, prices, Annie had nothing solid to compare numbers. Cal mentioned a quarter of a million dollars. Could it be more? Less?

  “My offer for five hundred thousand is a very good price for your property,” Jillian began. “It’s more than generous and you’d be wise to take it.”

  “Yes,” Annie agreed blindly, sorting through the possibilities as she spoke. It sounded like a lot of money to her but what did she know? She was no expert in the field.
br />   “I can pay you in cash.”

  Cash? Annie pushed back in her seat, her mind whirring at high speed. What was she going to do with half a million dollars in cash?

  “I’ll want time to complete a survey,” Jillian continued, “but I don’t expect that to take more than a week or two. Upon closing, I’ll wire the money to the bank of your choice.”

  Annie only half-listened as Jillian Devane reeled off business details of buying the land, preparing for closing, her mind busily trying to digest the money aspect. What would Gerald Foster do when she strolled up to a teller’s window with a check for five hundred thousand dollars? He’d probably keel over on the spot. Annie Owens was not a woman of means. Her bank account rarely held five hundred dollars let alone five hundred thousand. Her gaze shot to the front entrance. A group from church entered the diner, bells sounding as an elderly man held the door a bit unsteadily, chatting with another man as the women passed through. Aunt Fran waved to the women, calling them to a large table in the back.

  Things were happening too fast. There were so many questions she didn’t know where to begin. Annie’s throat closed. If only she could discuss it with Cal. He knew real estate. He could help her wade through the details of a big sale like this. Nick had handled the initial transfer, but would not help her sell to this woman. In fact, Nick was more likely to do everything in his power to stop her.

  Hypnotic golden-brown eyes drew Annie in, reducing the restaurant to the two of them. “Well?”

  Annie wanted to confer with Cal, but couldn’t mention the first word. He wanted to log the property. He wanted her to build a home on it. “I have to think about it.”

  Jillian’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Yes, that’s what you said Friday. But Ms. Owens, there’s something you have to understand. Real estate is a very fluid market. When my investors hear the word ‘wait’ they do the exact opposite and move on to the next deal. As you know...” Long finely manicured nails painted blood-red tapped on the rim of her glass. “I’m looking at another property north of yours. Do you want me to buy that one instead? They’re calling me this afternoon for my decision.”