Garden of Dreams (29 page)

He thought she relaxed a fraction as she considered his question. Resting his head against the seat back, JD stared at the shadows on the porch ceiling. She couldn't weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. He didn't think anyone or anything had ever felt so good in his arms. Maybe he should buy a dog if he was this damned deprived of companionship.

“I believe everyone has a soul,” Nina whispered from somewhere below his chin.

“Yeah, I guess I believe that, too. I'm just not too certain I believe we all go to this place in the clouds and wear halos and wings.” JD adjusted her more comfortably in his lap and was rewarded with her head on his shoulder.

“I don't think Aunt Hattie would much care for halos or wings,” she murmured. “Sometimes, I think earth is hell, or at least some kind of purgatory we have to earn our way out of. But I don't know where we go from here.”

“Maybe there's something to this reincarnation stuff. Maybe we keep coming back until we get it right.” He'd really never thought about death much. He'd been estranged from his father too long even to notice his passing.

“You don't think Hattie's right here, watching over us now? Her heart was in this house, you know.”

“Maybe. But you wouldn't want her lingering here forever, would you? There's got to be a better place. And she had a lot of time to get ready for it. She might have passed right on over to the other side.” JD relaxed and ran his hand up and down Nina's arms. Her voice had regained some of its liveliness. Maybe he'd helped a little. Maybe he wasn't entirely hopeless.

“You could be right,” Nina agreed slowly. “But I still think she would find some way of checking in. Hattie didn't like letting things go.”

As if suddenly realizing where she was, Nina sat up, but JD tugged her back into his arms again. “It's nice out here. Don't go yet.”

Obediently, she snuggled against his chest. JD rocked her until she slept. Then, reluctantly, he carried her into the house and up the stairs. There might be more to this reaching-out business than he realized, but he had a suspicion it was damned painful. Machines couldn't twist a man's guts into knots.

***

The odd peace Nina had found in JD's arms dissipated with the blistering dawn of the next day.

The phone rang so incessantly, she wished for another line just so she could call out. Word traveled fast in a small community. Those who hadn't heard about Hattie called about the garden. Both Matt Home and JD's lawyer called, along with the newly appointed board of directors. Once Nina notified the funeral home, the sympathy calls began.

Helen got in her battered Cadillac and drove off, leaving Nina fending for herself, as usual. Perhaps it was for the best. She couldn't have borne speaking politely to her mother at a time like this.

As she sat at the telephone table in the hall, staring blankly at a framed daguerreotype of her great-great-grandmother before making the next call on her list, Nina looked up in surprise as JD slapped a coffee mug down beside her.

“You haven't eaten. I've fixed a fruit salad. Come and have some. I'll answer the phone while you eat.”

She liked the idea of someone taking care of her entirely too well. She couldn't give in to the luxury of it. Shaking her head, she didn't even look up at him.

“Matt's pulled the power of attorney from the docket, but he wants Hattie's copy of the will. I have to search her desk for it.”

JD caught Nina's shoulder as she stood, steering her toward the kitchen instead of the stairs. “I know what a will looks like. I'll look for it. Why in hell didn't he keep a copy?”

“Do lawyers keep copies?” she asked vaguely, too weary to fight. “Helen's down there with him now.”

JD's curse had a rather picturesque quality that almost made Nina smile. But the image of her mother in the position JD suggested seemed a little improbable, and she let it fade.

He shoved her into the kitchen chair in front of a bowl of cut-up peaches and strawberries. He'd used one of Hattie's cut- glass bowls from the china cabinet, the ones she saved for the entertaining they never did. Nina admired the prism of color created by the glass and the sunbeam from the window. If those bowls were hers, she'd use them every day.

But they weren't. They would go to Helen along with the house and the land and everything she'd worked for her entire life. Too depressed to eat, she pushed a strawberry around with her spoon.

“Eat, or I'll feed you,” JD commanded.

The phone rang again, and JD shoved her back in the chair. “Sit. I'll get it. And if that fruit isn't gone by the time I get back, I won't tell you if I find Hattie's will.”

He strode off down the hall. Nina watched him go, admiring the straight set of JD's shoulders and the grace of his stride. He wasn't using his walking stick, she noticed.

She wondered how much they paid teachers in California. Would they accept a Kentucky teaching certificate? The idea of following JD to California was an insane one, born of desperation. The realization that it actually lifted her spirits for the first time today terrified her. JD had never given any indication that he wanted a permanent relationship.

Nina turned back to the fruit. It was too pretty to throw away. She nibbled at it until Ethel knocked on the back door, carrying a cake.

The day went from hectic to chaotic even with JD manning the phone. The regional newspaper heard about the garden and wanted to do a feature story. Distant relatives Nina hadn't seen in years called to ask about funeral arrangements. Tom returned with three more farmers, bulldozers, bushhogs, and trucks, and began clearing the bottomland. Jackie came home and took over the duty of answering the doors and collecting food, but Helen returned and sent him outside so she could entertain in the front room. JD reported he couldn't find anything resembling a will in Hattie's belongings, and Nina didn't have time to look.

She didn't even have time to mourn Hattie, she realized later that night as she stood in the drive, watching the last car drive away. She hadn't time even to begin figuring out what to do with her future. Maybe she'd better start packing her clothes and books before Helen claimed them, too.

JD caught her before she returned to the house and steered her toward the rose garden. “We need a minute to talk.”

Nina shrugged him off. Everybody kept pushing her around, and she was damned tired of it. Angry over nothing, she stalked toward the rear of the house.

“The lawyer is filing a lien in your name against the property.” Despite his injured foot, JD had no trouble keeping up with her, she noticed grumpily.

“How can he file a lien? On what basis?” At least legal talk could occupy her mind so she didn't have to think of anything else.

“On the basis of all the money you've spent on this place over the years. Even if a will is found, you'll have a claim against the estate. You need a list with approximate amounts. Accuracy isn't important. Just make it huge enough to prevent anyone from selling the place out from under you immediately.”

“I haven't any idea how much I've spent. I've taught for eight years. Say I've had an average take home pay of twenty thousand dollars a year. We grew most of our food. The house is paid for. I paid the utilities, but they're not much. Almost my entire salary went toward taxes, insurance, maintaining the house, and expanding the gardens. Hattie's insurance covered most of her medical bills, and her pension paid her personal expenses. We lived simply. Do you have any idea how much that greenhouse alone cost?” Nina turned and stared at JD through the dusk.

He stopped and stared down at her. “Would a hundred-fifty- thousand-dollar lien pretty much cover the worth of this place?”

“Pretty much. Farmland is cheap out here, and the house needs too much work to be worth much.”

JD stroked her cheek, and Nina longed to lean into his embrace, but she couldn't afford weakness. He dropped his hand as she moved away.

“Then let Helen post all the for-sale signs she likes. Until a court settles the matter, she can't complete a sale without paying you first.”

Nina felt an enormous burden fall from her shoulders. “It's that simple?” she asked in awe.

“For now. It's not a permanent solution. Unless we find Hattie's will, most of the property goes to your mother under Kentucky law, since her mother died intestate, too. A court will decide on the legitimacy of your lien. But the lawyer says that takes months, when and if your mother files suit for a judgment on the matter.”

Nina nodded and wandered down the path between the rose beds. The tea roses filled the air with their heavy scent, and she drank it in as if smelling them for the first time.

“Matt has influence. He'll try to get the lien thrown out. Will it stop the phone company?”

“They're still working on that. Don't think about it now. Go to bed. Get some rest. You've had a rough day.”

“Tomorrow's visitation. I'll have to sit down at the funeral home and listen to old women cry. Am I being selfish wishing I were a thousand miles away?”

In the dark, Nina could only sense JD walking in the shadows beside her, his hands in his pockets. She shouldn't cast these burdens on him. He was—for all intents and purposes—a stranger. But he was the only person she could talk to now that Hattie was gone. That was a terrible comment on her own life.

“No, you don't have a selfish bone in your body, Nina. You know your aunt's here, in these gardens, if she's anywhere at all. You'd be happier staying here, puttering in her roses. But instead, you'll go to the funeral home and help others with their grief. That's your nature. That's life.”

Tears leaked from Nina's eyes, and she hastily brushed them away. ‘Thank you. I haven't thanked you enough for everything you've done. I don't know what I would have done without you and Jackie. Why don't you take him down to Nashville or someplace fun for a few days, enjoy yourselves, instead of getting embroiled in all this? I can handle it now.”

He halted on the path behind her. “We'll do that later. We'll keep out of your way these next few days. I'll see you in the morning.”

Nina heard him limp away. She didn't think he'd been limping earlier. She wondered if she'd said something to hurt him. She couldn't imagine what. After all, he was only a tenant. He wouldn't be here long enough ever to qualify as a friend.

The sun pouring through the high umbrella of the pin oaks scorched JD's back as he wielded the ax one more time and splintered the log into pieces. He knew he courted heat stroke, but the tension inside him needed violent physical release. Chopping wood seemed the safest activity.

He glanced over the yard to where Jackie hacked desultorily at the underbrush. Everyone had gone to the funeral service hours ago. He hadn't seen any reason for Jackie to attend. He'd planned on accompanying Nina, had even dressed for the occasion, but at the last minute, she'd told him it wasn't necessary. He hadn't known Hattie. Why should he go?

JD still didn't know why that brush-off had hurt. He didn't like attending funerals. But for some idiot reason he'd thought Nina would appreciate his company. Stupid of him.

He slammed the ax into another log. The month was almost shot. Maybe he should think about taking Jackie to Myrtle Beach after all. He didn't need the distraction of Nina and her gardens and her big, anguished eyes. Maybe he should go in and call Jimmy, see how business was coming along. He hadn't heard anything but the brief e-mail saying he'd arrived safely in L.A.

That thought led to the question about the still-unidentified body. The sheriff had said autopsies were performed in Louisville and took a long time, but there had been no reports of any missing persons. He didn't like leaving Nina with that question hanging.

He hadn't seen the Mercedes around lately either. Maybe it was all in his head. Paranoia erupted easily at times of stress.

“Hey, Dad, look!” Jackie stopped his idle weed-whacking and pointed in the direction of Hattie's Hill. “There's a truck full of pipes pulling in over there.”

JD shaded his eyes with his hand and watched the flatbed pull off the road and onto the field. No one had apparently used that field in decades. The barbed-wire fence was almost completely buried under honeysuckle and wild roses. Whatever gate had once blocked the entrance had fallen off long ago. Only the mound over the roadside drainage ditch gave any indication that a drive once existed. Someone had recently bushhogged the tall grass, but no other work had been done to grade the entrance. The flatbed tilted slightly and halted just inside the fence.

Putting down the ax, JD examined the truck's contents. He'd never watched the construction of one of those enormous steel- and-cable contraptions with which the cell phone people littered the countryside, but he'd wager that was just the sort of material they'd use. A uniformed man stepped down from the truck cab, confirming his suspicions.

“Those dirty, lousy, good-for-nothing...” Jaw tightening, JD glanced around, searching for the swiftest means of halting this invasion. His gaze alighted on the bulldozer Tom had left behind. He'd been spoiling for a fight. The phone company had just offered the opportunity.