Hotel Ladd (9 page)

“
I think so.” With a quick
wink to his wife, he said, “I’ll call first thing in the morning
and see what their time frame is running.”

Government. Bureaucracy. Time. More
decisions, more waiting. If she wasn’t being pressed for a
decision, she was waiting for one. “Is there a possibility I
couldn’t get a permit?”

Malcolm punched a straw open and stuck
it in a glass for Lacy. Handing it over, he repeated the process
for himself. “No, you’ll get it. As legal owner, you have a right
to access your property. It usually takes a month or so, but I
think we can manage it in a couple of weeks. You can probably get
the forester to cut you a driveway and take the cost out of the
proceeds.”

Money. Loss of proceeds. It also meant
she’d have to decide about Ms. Devane’s offer without a solid idea
of how much money she’d receive from a forester to compare. And how
was she going to ask anyone about the true value of her property
without raising the quilt on her dealings with Jillian
Devane?

Hank Dakota was her lawyer. A native to
the area, he helped her prove paternity, helped her close the
initial real estate deal with Nick and Delaney. Hank was a fixture
in this town, entrenched as she and while attorney-client privilege
was the law, Annie didn’t trust the information to stay sealed
behind closed doors. People talked. They slipped. It happened.
Everyone knew what everyone else was doing and if she was seen
talking with Hank, someone was bound to make the connection. At
least ask questions.

Questions she couldn’t afford to
answer. Not until she had all the facts, a decision made. Popping a
straw through its paper, Annie drew a sip of sweet tea. Cold and
sugary, the beverage was a welcome relief to her parched throat.
Maybe she could find what she needed on the internet. Maybe she
didn’t have to ask anyone for help.

Malcolm raised his glass, the liquid a
light brown as it mixed with ice and didn’t mention another word.
He probably assumed she was running through the information in her
mind, glad to have him guiding her along. Suddenly the cash offer
looming in the forefront of Annie’s brain made her feel like a
heel. Here Malcolm and Cal and Lacy were working on her behalf
while she was working against them. If she sold the property, all
their time and effort would be for nothing. But she had to do what
was best for her daughter, didn’t she? Isn’t that what being
trustee was all about?

Ten minutes later Annie
walked out of the diner with a warm paper bag in hand. The scent of
fried chicken and biscuits pulled hunger pains from her
stomach.
Forgot she had to stop by Candi’s
after church
. What kind of weak excuse was
that? Was Candi even home? Toting a bag full of food with no place
to go, Annie thought maybe she
should
go to Candi’s place. She could
use the company and the ready ear.

Chapter Seven

Cal walked into Fran’s Diner, not
surprised the place was cackling like a hen house at feeding time.
He dodged aside as a toddler bumped into his legs. “Sorry!” came
the automatic response from a young mother, a woman who didn’t
appear old enough to have a child let alone one she had to chase
down and corral in a crowd. Cal waved it off with a smile. But that
was Fran’s. Folks of all ages frequented the restaurant, from his
Daddy’s generation right down to the students that made Fran’s
Diner part of their after-school schedule. Most of today’s crowd
was dressed in their Sunday best, relaxing over good old-fashioned
country cooking with friends and family after a morning of church
services.

Cal inhaled the scent of roasting meat
and fried food, the heavenly blend of baked goods saturating the
air. For him this was milk to a baby. There was no better meal than
a southern one, even if it did come from a restaurant. Too bad he
was dining solo today. He was pumped with news for Annie. His
forester friend said cutting a road would be no problem at all and
shouldn’t add more than a months’ time to the job, maybe less.
Already familiar with the land, he was willing to pay Annie up
front, too. She couldn’t argue with those terms, Cal
mused.

Spotting Malcolm and Lacy at the
counter, he paused. Malcolm waved him over. Inwardly, Cal smiled.
Maybe he wouldn’t be eating alone after all. “Afternoon,” he said
as he joined them.

“
Good afternoon,” Malcolm
replied.

“
Hi, Cal!” Lacy chirped and
looked around him as though searching for his lunch date. “Did you
see Annie?”

Cal frowned, noting the two plates of
half-eaten fried chicken, biscuits and okra. “No. Was she
here?”

“
She just left.” Lacy
delivered the news as if he’d been ditched, adding cheerfully, “You
can join us, if you’d like.”

“
Well, don’t mind if I do.”
Cal slid onto a stool next to Lacy, marveling how similar in
appearance she was to Annie. Jet black hair, fair complexion and
those notably blue eyes, the sisters could almost be twins. Next to
Malcolm’s white hair and tanned skin, his eyes a pale blue, Cal
thought the two looked good together. He’d come to like Malcolm,
getting to know him over the last several months. He was decent,
smart, and definitely sweet on Lacy.

She smiled. “Fran will be out in a
second.”

Noting she was hitched so close to
Malcolm’s side it was a wonder if the man would be able to eat, Cal
surveyed the restaurant. Cooks in white dashed from a smoking grill
to the service window, sliding plates, pulling tickets in rhythmic
precision complete with shouts of, “Order up!”

“
Fran really packs ‘em in,
doesn’t she?”

“
That she does,” Malcolm
agreed.

“
Oh, poo.” Lacy waved him
off. “That’s nothing new. Aunt Frannie’s has always been the only
place to eat in town, you know that.”

“
You won’t hear any
complaints from me.” Cal loved southern cooking, and next to his
momma, there was no one better than Fran, particularly when it came
to her peach pie. He’d never admit as much aloud but sure as he was
sitting here, Fran’s was the best, three counties wide. Settling on
to a thick-cushioned seat, he asked, “How’s the baby?”

Lacy’s face lit up brighter than the
hot pink of her jacket and she tapped his arm. “Good, and you’re
sweet to ask.” She paused with an odd look in her eyes, appearing
suddenly confused. “When is Annie gonna get it through her brain
that you’d make the perfect husband?”

Malcolm twisted toward her. “Don’t you
think you should let your sister decide that?”

Lacy pouted. “Not when she’s being so
mulish. Why look at him.” She gestured toward Cal. “He’s a fine man
and been so patient with her. If I were you, Cal, I’d demand she
officially be your girlfriend or tell her you’re gonna leave her
flat!”

“
You think threatening will
help?” Malcolm asked.

Lacy scowled. “It might.”

Cal laughed and leaned forward on his
elbows. “Thanks for the suggestion, Lacy, but I think I’ll hang in
there a little while longer. Your sister has a lot on her mind
these days.” Grabbing her iced tea, Lacy sipped, eyes alert but
apparently content to have said her piece.

Fran whisked out from the kitchen,
delivering a bowl of steaming peanuts. “A little something to start
you off with, Cal.”

He breathed in the distinct scent of
warm, salt-boiled peanuts and drawled, “Well, thank you, Fran.
That’s mighty nice of you.”

She winked. “You know I take special
care of my favorites.”

Lacy scrunched her nose at the bowl.
“Why are you always eating those things?”

“
Habit.” Ever since he quit
drinking, Cal found that tossing back a pile of boiled peanuts
replaced his urge to pick up a drink, especially when he was around
his brothers. The nuts were satisfying in their own right,
especially when boiled by a woman with experience. Placing his nose
over the bowl, he inhaled. And Fran was certainly a woman with
experience. It was her addition of ham hock that sealed it for him.
In Arizona no one knew what a boiled peanut was, let alone a ham
hock. Recalling the first time he’d asked after them, Cal
chuckled.
Boiled what
?
Why would anyone do that to a
peanut
? He split one open, heedless to the
hot juices dripping down his fingers and thought, because they’re
tasty. “You oughta try one, Lacy.”

“
They’re too
mushy.”

Fran planted a hand to her hip and
said, “Now don’t you go disparagin’ my cooking, young lady. To each
his own, you hear me?”

Lacy flipped her face up to Fran and
frowned. “Sorry.”

Fran took Cal’s order, departing as
quick as she’d come, promising him a cup of peanuts to go. It was a
gesture he appreciated. Living at home for the time being, his
momma wasn’t one for boiling peanuts. Didn’t like the stink in her
kitchen. As a boy, his daddy boiled peanuts out by the stables in a
huge steel pot, simmering them for hours and adding his secret
spices. When he was satisfied they were ready, he’d load the boys
up with cups full and send them on their way. Those were good
times, good memories. “So,” he turned to Malcolm, popping open a
second peanut, “you must be excited about the prospect of becoming
a new father.”

He raised a brow. “Excited, nervous,
scared out of my mind—all of the above.”

Cal chuckled and downed the warm, soft
nut. He remembered the swell of emotion well. The day he learned
Caroline was with child was the first day in his life where he
seriously took stock of his manhood. Was he ready? Prepared for the
change that would come with the new arrival? Could he take care of
an infant, a tiny person completely dependent upon him for his or
her every need?

It was a tall order and one he had to
get used to, but he’d done it. When Emily was born, his heart burst
with feelings and sensations he’d never before experienced. She’d
been beautiful, the most beautiful baby on the maternity floor.
Regret drenched his memories. If only he could hit a reset button
and start over. He wouldn’t make a mess of things the second time
around.

“
There’s nothing to be
afraid of,” Lacy said. “Women have been having babies since the
beginning of time.”

“
Yes,” Malcolm agreed, a
glint of humor in his blue eyes, eyes a shade lighter than Lacy’s
but every bit as sharp.

“
Have you decided on a
name?”

Lacy beamed, her eyes deepened. “Emma
Jane.”

“
Emma Jane is a beautiful
name,” Cal said wistfully, the similarities hitting home. Lacy was
happy as a woman in love should be and looking forward to the birth
of her child. It was the way life was supposed to work.

“
Thank you,” she intoned, as
though he’d given his personal approval

“
Are you sure it’s going to
be a girl, then?”

“
Yes. A psychic told
me.”

Malcolm smiled over Lacy’s head. “My
fault. When we were in California to meet my parents, she spotted a
sign advertising psychics and made me pull over. Marched right
inside and demanded to know about her pregnancy.” Sliding a hand
down her back, he continued, “She was only eight weeks at the time,
but the psychic assured her it was a girl, a little baby girl who
was going to grow up just like her mother.”

“
Well, she
will
,” Lacy
insisted.

Malcolm held his hands in the air.
“It’s been a girl ever since. She named it on the way home, in
fact. Emma Jane was something we both agreed on.”

“
Will you be upset if it
turns out to be a boy?” Cal asked.

“
It won’t,” Lacy snapped and
plucked a biscuit from the edge of her plate.

Malcolm grinned. “I think it’s going to
be a girl but it’s only a guess. Lacy refuses to get an ultrasound
to check.”

“
That’s cheating,” Lacy
said. “Besides, I already know
she’s
a girl.”

Cal laughed, hiding a deep
sorrow that penetrated his soul. What he’d give to be with his own
daughter. He’d move mountains—was trying to do so with his return
home to Tennessee—only he wouldn’t see the results for some time.
Although he’d been sober now for ten months and three days, his
daughter Emily couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him. One
terrible mistake and she had closed her heart, ripping him from her
life forever. “I hope it is,” Cal said quietly and reached for
another peanut.
Girls are gifts from
heaven
.

“
Speaking about a lot on her
mind these days,” Malcolm said, “I told Annie I’d be happy to help
her along with those permits she needs. Nick and I have established
a nice rapport with the guys in the county office, and since we’re
already familiar with the paperwork, I think we could manage a
permit in a couple of weeks, maybe less.”

Cal turned on his stool. “That would be
great. I know she’d appreciate it.”

“
Consider it
done.”

“
How’s the progress of the
hotel construction coming along?”