Butterfly Lane (29 page)

Chapter Fifty-Two

J
ohn woke up the next morning before the alarm clock went off. Zanny was snuggled up to his side, sound asleep. He turned off the alarm and rolled onto his side to watch her as the morning sun gilded the room.

They weren’t technically back together, but for a while there, he’d doubted they ever would be. He’d really thought their marriage was over. That certainty had taken him to a dark, dark place.

John had friends who’d been married, divorced, and had remarried. He had friends who’d been in serious relationships, had sworn the person they were with was their soul mate, and had found another soul mate six months later.

He’d never been that person. That Christmas when he’d seen Zanny coming down the stairs at the farm, his path had been set. Thinking she was gone and that she didn’t want to be with him anymore had broken something inside him on a level he hadn’t known existed. He’d been so hurt when she told him to go find someone else to be intimate with that he didn’t know how he managed to walk away from her. He’d shut down that day and closed off a part of himself from her.

Lying beside her as she slept, he realized that she’d been entirely right in how she’d gone about handling the separation. If she hadn’t insisted on having space, they might have gone for years without fixing things. The impetus just wasn’t there, no matter how much they loved each other.

When he touched one of her curls, then let his fingers follow the curve of her cheek to her mouth, she murmured and snuggled into him more closely. She didn’t wake, however, until he started kissing her cheek.

“Good morning.”

“Mmm, good morning.” She wouldn’t let him kiss her on the mouth because of their morning breath, but she didn’t object when he reached under the covers to slip his hand down her body with a bold touch. “John…”

He moved his fingers in a way that he knew would drive her insane. “Did you sleep well?” When she clutched his shoulders and lifted her hips into his hand with a breathy moan, he smiled.

“Very. John, you, um…What time is it?” She raised herself up to look at the clock. “Oh, good. Just barely six.”

“Good, huh? Why is that?” He maneuvered over her, spreading her legs with his knees, and settled between her thighs.

She struggled to answer as he kissed her neck. “I think you know.” She curled her legs around his hips, drawing him into her.

John advanced slowly, wanting to savor every second of their time together. Even when Zanny tried to urge him on, he insisted on keeping things slow. Lacing their fingers together, he raised their arms to meet over her head. Still, he didn’t increase the pace. The heat built and built until he felt as if he were in danger of spontaneously combusting.

Zanny was writhing beneath him, her skin flushed. The breathy pants she was making increased his arousal, and he bent to whisper provocatively in her ear. Using intimate words, he praised her feel, her touch, and her body. He let himself speak bluntly in a way he never had before, and he told her exactly how it felt to be inside her. The words pushed her over the edge, and she tightened around him, crying out as she climaxed.

John followed her. His own orgasm was powerful, not just physically, but emotionally. He was as overwhelmed by this lovemaking as he had been the first time they’d made love. It felt different, new, and more intimate than it had in years.

He wasn’t in a hurry to leave her embrace, but he shifted his weight so that it was on his arm and leg instead of Zanny. “I love you. There aren’t enough words to properly express how much. Do you understand that?”

She was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and she tugged his head down for a brief kiss. “Yes. I feel the same way. I do love you, John.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

John felt his smile grow from the inside out. “I love you. I’m going to keep saying it. I love you, love you, love you.” He kissed her jaw, her chin, and her forehead, then sighed with contentment.

He would have to get up and get ready for work soon, but not right away. For the time being, he was just going to lie in his bed, holding his wife, and try to express just how much he adored her.

With time running out before he had to get to work, John and Zanny shared a shower. As much as he wanted to linger, and she seemed inclined to let him, he knew he couldn’t—not that morning.

“I’ll swing by Emma’s and get dressed,” he told Zanny as he followed the boys into the kitchen, clad in his shorts and shirt from the night before.

Zanny’s response was cut off, however, by the doorbell. They both froze, and from the look on her face, John knew she was thinking what he was. At just after seven o’clock in the morning, they weren’t expecting anyone, so something was wrong.

“I’ll get it.”

He heard her set down the skillet was holding. “Boys, I’m going to grab my robe. Stay in your chairs.”

When the visitor turned out to be his cousin Rick, dressed in his sheriff’s department uniform, John’s heart sank. He unlocked the storm door and let Rick in.

“Hey. I’m glad you’re here. Is Zanny awake?”

“She is. She’s getting something on. What’s wrong?”

“Her dad. We got a call last night from Scottsdale, Arizona. They found him late last night in his truck. It looks like he had a massive heart attack. I’m sorry.”

John cursed under his breath. “She’s not seen him or talked to him in years. This is going to hit her hard, I think.”

“Morning, Rick. What’s going on?” Zanny came into the living room, her cotton robe belted at her waist.

“Hey, Zan. I’m afraid I have some news about your father.”

John held out his arm, and she came to him, though her eyes didn’t leave Rick’s face as he repeated what he’d told John.

“And they found him in his truck?”

“Yes. At a rest stop. He’d parked for the night, and then when the truck didn’t move the next day, they knew something was wrong. They got inside and found him. I’m sorry, Zanny.”

She left John’s side and moved to sit on the couch, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. “What happens now? Would you like some coffee?” she asked, half standing up before Rick could answer.

He waved her back to the couch. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” He glanced at John, and a little concern showed through what John thought of as Rick’s “cop face.”

John gave a subtle nod, and Rick continued.

“They’ll be performing an autopsy this morning, since he was alone. Someone will need to get in touch with his attorney, if he had one. I believe you’re his legal next of kin, and your name was listed with his trucking company as the emergency contact, so unless someone else comes up, all the decisions will be yours.”

Zanny shook her head a little. “I’m shocked he left me on there. He probably forgot to change it after our dustup a few years back.” Sadly, she laughed softly. “If he had an attorney…he might have used the same one Gran did.” She told him the name, and Rick nodded.

“I thought that was who it might be.” His radio beeped, and he turned down the volume. “I am sorry, Zan. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?”

“No. You’ve done everything you can, including helping me get out of there all those years ago.” She came over to him and gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for coming to tell me.”

“Just let me know if you all need anything.” Rick shook his hand, and John saw him out.

When he turned back to Zanny, she had disappeared. He heard her in the kitchen, talking to the boys in a low voice. He headed in that direction, stopping in the doorway to observe his family.

“So are we going to Mrs. Hendricks’s today?” Noah asked. “Or is it a special day, ’cause Daddy’s here?”

Zanny kissed his head. “It is a special day, but you’re still going to Mrs. Hendricks’s.”

He cheered. “I like her. She’s nice, and she reads us lots and lots of stories.”

“You aren’t planning to go in to work today, are you?” John couldn’t get a read on her emotions.

“I thought I should. Emma’s got a full schedule today. She’ll need me.” Zanny carefully folded the dishrag she’d been wiping the counter with. “I can’t just leave her by herself.”

“Noah, will you take Eli upstairs and get some clothes picked out?” John helped Eli down from his booster seat.

“Sure, Daddy. C’mon, Eli.”

“He’s such a good big brother,” Zanny observed as they left the kitchen. “Reminds me of the way you used to act years ago, when we were little.”

John came around the island and set his hands on her shoulders. She wouldn’t look at him, but he felt the fine tremors running through her frame. “I don’t think you should go into work today. Let me call Emma.”

“I’ll be okay.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t, and John pulled her into his arms. “You really think I should stay home?”

“Yes. Just today. It would make me feel better. I’ll even stay with you.”

The sigh that made its way out of her body was uneven. “Will you get the boys to Mrs. Hendricks?”

“You still want to send them?”

“They enjoy it. And she’s on a fixed income. They probably won’t get to go at least once or twice this week, and I don’t want to hurt her finances.”

John kissed her temple. “You are just about the sweetest person I know. I’ll round them up. Do you want me to call Emma, or do you think you can?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Okay. I need to call Hershel, then I’ll get the boys ready.”

“Thank you. I believe I’ll go get dressed.”

Worried, John let her go. She was very quiet and very subdued. Although he knew there was no good time to hear the news of a parent’s death, of all the times for this to happen, he wished it could have waited. They’d been through enough this year. Zanny didn’t need the grief and guilt he figured she would be feeling.

Chapter Fifty-Three

L
ike they did when any of the family was wounded, the Campbells and Brownings rallied. Rachel, home from school for the summer, volunteered to work with Emma until Zanny felt up to returning. Sarah and Owen had assured Zanny that they would be there as soon as she felt up to having them.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to do anything,” Zanny protested.

“If that changes, just call us, sweetie. We’ll be there.”

“I feel so guilty,” she told John later that day. “Everyone is being so solicitous. And I feel guilty about that.”

She was cleaning the kitchen like a madwoman, needing to keep her hands busy and her mind blank, but it wasn’t working. Frustrated, she threw a rag into the sink and pitched her gloves in after it. “Damn it. Why am I so upset? He was nothing to me, not after the way he treated me when I was pregnant with Noah.”

The tears came then, and John was there to hold her close while she grieved. Zanny let herself sag against him, sobbing. He scooped her up and carried her to the living room, settling in on the couch with her tucked firmly in his arms. He didn’t try to calm her down, but let her get it out of her system.

Once the tears were gone and she was calm again, she sat up. “I hated him, hated the way he made me feel growing up. I never understood why he disliked me so much. I know what love is, John. I’ve seen it with your family, with our boys. So why does it hurt so much to know that he’s gone?”

“Because he represents a ‘what if.’ And because he’s the last member left on that side of the family. Because he was your father, if only in the barest sense of the word.”

She laid her hand on his leg. “I appreciate your being here.”

“Zanny, where do you think I’d be?” He sat up so that he was beside her and put his arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, you have to learn to lean on me. You’re not alone in this. Let me help you. Let the family help you. And stop feeling guilty. We’re here because we want to be.”

His words reminded her of what Emma had said all those months ago, about choosing to not be strong.

“Okay.”

The next few days passed in a blur. Her grief wasn’t raw, as it had been with the miscarriage. But an incredible sadness, a weight, pinned her down.

They’d contacted Gran’s attorney, and it turned out the woman was, in fact, also Dennis Franks’ legal representative. Zanny was surprised to find out that not only had he had a life insurance policy that named her as beneficiary, he’d also left a will.

“You get everything, after his bills are settled,” the attorney told her when Zanny and John met with her. “He didn’t have a lot of debt, and he owned the land with the trailer free and clear.”

Her father had left explicit instructions as to the handling of his remains. He’d wanted to be cremated, and after only a momentary hesitation, Zanny signed the papers to authorize the process. She was thankful that he hadn’t wanted a funeral because that would have been unbearably awkward. Except for one time in the grocery store when she was pregnant with Eli, she hadn’t seen Dennis since he’d thrown her out. Even then, they’d locked eyes and immediately headed in opposite directions.

She didn’t go in the trailer until that Saturday, five full days after learning of Dennis’s death. She had waited for Dennis’s attorney to file some papers with the court, and the woman accompanied Zanny and John when they went in.

“I’ll have to do a quick inventory of anything valuable. I’m sorry. The court will ask for it when we go through probate for the will.”

Zanny stayed out on the porch while John escorted the other woman through Dennis’s home. After she’d picked up her belongings that night all those years ago, Zanny had expected to never have to go back in the trailer. She had mixed feelings about doing it that day, but she wanted to get it over with more than she dreaded it.

The porch swing that she’d hung the summer before Dennis had kicked her out beckoned, and giving in to its call, Zanny took a seat. The day wasn’t oppressively hot, and a nice breeze was blowing up the holler. As she waited, she watched the traffic go up and down the road. Several people waved as they went by. Jack and Gilly lived in the next house up the holler, just around the bend. She thought they would try to stop by and say hello before they went home.

The sounds of the breeze, birds singing in the distance, and the water trickling over the rocks in the creek across the road lulled Zanny into a relaxed state. She closed her eyes, and she thought that if John and Ms. Cook didn’t hurry up, they might find her asleep. But the sound of a vehicle coming to a stop on the road caught her attention. Opening her eyes, she saw Ben’s truck, a lawn mower on the trailer in the back. He waved, and she waved back.

“Hey, mind some company?” he called through the open window.

“Love some.”

He backed down the road and pulled into the driveway, parking alongside the attorney’s car. Zanny patted the spot beside her, and he sat down with a sigh.

“What brings you up in the holler today?”

“Got a mower that’s giving me fits. I thought I’d have Jack take a look at it, see if he can figure out what’s going on with it. How are you?”

“Okay. John and Ms. Cook are doing the inventory. I needed a few minutes. I don’t want to get upset in front of her,” Zanny confessed in a low voice.

“I understand that.” He touched her hand. “How are things? Other than having to deal with this?”

Zanny glanced over her shoulder. “Good. We’re still working on things, but we’re close.”

“John’s moved back in?”

“Sort of. Not officially, but he’s been at the house more this week than at Emma’s.”

Ben smiled, revealing the dimples that Zanny had always adored. “Good. I’m very glad to hear that.”

She pinched his cheek gently. “You’re just a big ol’ softy, Benjamin Wayne.”

He swatted at her hand, catching it and bringing it to his mouth to place a smacking kiss on the back. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. If that got out, it would ruin my reputation.” He kept her hand in his, playing with the short, neat nails in a way so much like the boys, Zanny had to chuckle.

“Are you flirting with my wife?” They looked up as John and Ms. Cook came out on the porch.

“Absolutely. Someone needs to flirt with her, keep you on your toes.” Ben sent him an unrepentant grin, and John rolled his eyes.

“Grace Cook, this is my scandalous younger brother, Ben. Just ignore him.”

The attorney laughed. “I have two scandalous younger brothers, myself. I know the type. Suzanna, we’re finished with the inventory. Would you mind going over the notes with me briefly?”

“Of course not.” Zanny tugged her hand free and stood. She ruffled Ben’s hair before joining Ms. Cook at the railing at the far end of the porch. “Were there any surprises?”

“No. Nothing’s missing or here that wasn’t on his list.”

Going over the list didn’t take long, and Zanny initialed each page beside John’s and the attorney’s initials. When she was finished, she walked the woman to her car.

“I’ll get this typed up and file the probate. If anything unexpected comes up as you go through things, let me know. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Zanny watched her leave. Hands in her back pockets, she walked to the edge of the driveway and sighed. Since the initial shock of Dennis’s death had worn off, all she had left to do was face whatever demons were left over from when he’d thrown her out. She hoped that wouldn’t be too difficult.

“Everything good?” John asked as she came back up on the porch.

“Yes. How does it look in there?” She slipped her arms around his waist and leaned against him.

“Not bad. I half expected to find the place trashed, but it’s pretty clean. To be honest, there aren’t a lot of personal effects that I saw.”

“He never was very sentimental. If Gran hadn’t kept a few pictures of me as a child, I wouldn’t have any now. He never kept papers, pictures, mementos. The past was the past, and he had no concern for it.”

“That’s a sad way to live. No wonder he was such a miserable person. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that.” Ben stood and stretched. “I’ll head up to Jack’s. Unless you need help?”

Zanny shook her head. “You’re right about him. He was miserable. And I think we’re okay, at least today. Depending on what we do with the trailer, we may ask for help moving furniture later. Will you be at dinner tomorrow?”

“And miss Mom’s home-cooked meal? You’re kidding, right? That’s why I moved back to Kentucky.”

“I’m going to tell her you said that,” John teased. “She thinks it’s because you missed the family.”

Ben wasn’t threatened in the least. “Go ahead. She knows it.” He kissed Zanny and tapped John on the shoulder. “I’ll be over at Jack’s for a little while. Give a shout if you need anything.”

“Something’s bothering him,” Zanny told John quietly as Ben backed out onto the road. “Did he say anything to you?”

“No, but I think I know what it is. Rather, who it is.” He explained about Ainsley Brewer and Ben’s reaction.

“She’s back in town?”

He frowned. “You know who she is?”

“Only her name.” Zanny headed inside, glad to have something other than her father to focus on. “The summer after Noah was born, he was dating her. I would just about swear to you that he was in love with her, but then she left town. Got married. And Ben went back to Savannah so quickly, he practically left a dust cloud behind him. We talked about it a little, but he insisted it was just a summer romance. Is her family with her?”

“She’s widowed. About a year ago, according to Hershel.”

Zanny put her hands on her hips. “Oh, really? Hmmm. That’s interesting.”

She could tell she’d surprised John. “What, no sympathy for her?”

Zanny grimaced. “Not if she hurt Ben the way I think she did. Sorry.”

John drew her into him, his hands on her waist. “You know, if I didn’t know you loved me, I’d be jealous of my own brother.”

“I think a lot of Ben. I always have. He’s the brother I always wanted but never had.” Zanny rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want to do this.”

“We don’t have to.”

“Yes, we do. I do. I-I’m glad you’re here. With me, I mean.” She blew out a long sigh and straightened. Looking around, she saw that surprisingly little had changed. “Let’s do this and get it over with. And then I’ll never have to deal with it again.”

John was the one who found the letters. They were stashed in a large plastic bin in the back of Dennis’s closet. Backing out, he sat the tub on the bed and started sorting through it. He didn’t recognize the significance of the correspondence at first. There were twenty bundles, all tied together with old ribbons. Each bundle contained between ten and fifteen letters, and most were addressed to Suzanna Franks. When he saw the name on the return address, his blood turned cold.

“Zanny? Can you come here for a second?”

“Be right there.”

He stood beside the bed, gripping the sides of the tub, his mind racing as he sorted through the implications of the discovery.

“What did you find?” she asked from the door.

John didn’t look at her. “What was your mother’s name?” He knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from her, in case he was wrong.

“Molly Dean Gross. Why?”

His fingers tightened convulsively on the bin. “I found some letters.”

Zanny stepped into the room as if he’d told her he had found a writhing mass of rattlesnakes. “From her?”

“Yes. They’re addressed to you.”

She shook her head. “What?”

“Here.” He picked up the top bundle and held it out, but Zanny didn’t touch it. She just stared at him.

“John?”

“I don’t know.” He knew what she was thinking. After Dennis had divorced her mother when Zanny was seven, they’d never heard from her mother again. She’d walked away without so much as a backward glance, or so they’d thought all those years. At least, that’s what Dennis had told everyone.

But if the letters in the box were any indication, that was a lie.

Zanny had gone pale. Her freckles stood out against her skin like painted dots. “Why would he tell me that she…?” Her gaze dropped to the box, and she stepped up to reach inside. She pulled out a bundle, carefully fingering the yellowed paper. “This is a lot of letters.”

“I know. And they’re dated over about a twenty-year period. The most recent bundle is from two years ago.”

“Some of these are thick.”

John waited for her direction. She brushed her hair back off her face with the back of her hand and bit her lip.

“Let’s put these in the car. I don’t…I can’t think about what this means right now. And then let’s finish going through his things.”

“All right.” He sealed up the bin. “I’ll take them out.”

“Thank you.” She was still pale, but her chin had lifted into the stubborn jut John knew meant she was hell-bound determined to finish something. “Let’s get this over with, and then I want to get out of here and not ever come back.”