Hidden Falls (6 page)

“You make an old man happy.”

“You’re not old and you’re not unhappy. You just don’t want to be the center of attention.”

“On to brighter topics,” Quinn said. “My computer is freezing up a lot lately.”

“That’s probably because it’s a dinosaur as far as laptops go, and you insist on trying to run programs it was never designed to run.” Dani turned into Quinn’s driveway.

“You always manage to sort things out.”

“I can’t do that forever, Quinn. But I can help you buy a new one.”

“Let’s give it one more go, shall we? Come over one night this week and see what you can do.”

Dani nodded. “Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday. First I want to go to the lake for a few days.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Come up tomorrow.”

“I just might do that. After church.”

Quinn got out, and Dani watched as he let himself in the front door. She backed out of the driveway and turned the Jeep away from the lake and toward town.

Forty minutes later, Dani stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Most of the time she was content to leave a bathrobe dangling from a hook there. A woman who didn’t wear dresses didn’t need to look in a full-length mirror very often.

She didn’t like dresses.

She didn’t like crowds.

She didn’t like fancy meals.

She didn’t like anything about this night except that it was for Quinn.

Dani had long ago made peace with being a loner. She flunked out of community college because she didn’t have enough interest in conforming to do homework that bored her. Two attempts at conventional employment led to two of the most disastrous experiences of her life. No doubt if she organized her efforts she could earn considerably more money than she currently did, whether she took on more odd jobs around town or accepted more computer repair work, but she liked her freedom. Being so tied down that she couldn’t decide to spend an afternoon fishing was no way to live.

Dani tugged the gray shift down and straightened the seams along her slender hips. The hem hit just above her knees, which in their exposed state struck her as unreasonably knobby. The dress called for shoes with heels, and Dani had the pair from her sister’s wedding, but she refused to put herself through that torture. Rummaging in the back of her closet produced a pair of black flats she wiped clean, and she slipped them on her feet.

The problem with her long, thick hair was that it took forever to dry. Wearing it in a single braid was a practicality more than anything else because she could leave the house with wet hair. In front of the mirror, Dani pulled the braid forward over her right shoulder, flipped it back, and pulled it forward again.

“Who am I kidding?” she said aloud. No one would care. No one would notice. Who was she even going to sit with? Liam and Cooper had dragged her into this. If they didn’t also save her a seat, Dani would have a few choice words for them. It was just the kind of thing older boy cousins would have done to her as kids.

A final inspection persuaded Dani she was socially presentable. Only Quinn would appreciate the extreme effort she was making—and Dani suspected he didn’t want to be at the banquet any more than she did.

But for Quinn, she would go.

7:11 p.m.

Nicole Sandquist stood in the bathroom where she had first practiced applying makeup. In those days, she saved her babysitting money and hovered in the cosmetics section of the drugstore until she was sure no one in the store knew her before making her purchases. That’s what happened to young teenage girls whose mothers had been dead for five years and whose fathers never recovered from grief. They figured out how to grow up without help.

She pressed her lips together to redistribute a blotch of lipstick. Otherwise satisfied, she snapped off the bathroom light and headed downstairs. The house had been empty for the last four years. After two decades in Hidden Falls, Nicole’s father accepted a new job in Indianapolis, but the house had belonged to her mother’s family, so he held on to it in case Nicole would want it someday.

Nicole brushed her hand against the oak handrail and wondered if Sammie Dunavant still did housecleaning. And what about Dani Roose? Nicole had heard through the Facebook grapevine that Dani was handy at fixing most anything around a house.

This house was a disaster. Well, perhaps not a disaster.
Neglected
was a better word. Nicole had no plans to return to Hidden Falls to live, but even if she decided to sell or rent the house, the list of essential repairs would be discouragingly long. Assembling it was a task for another trip.

At the bottom of the stairs, Nicole wiped dust from a mirror for one last look. The red dress crossed in front and fastened just above the waist on one side. Her mother’s pearls, the one nice piece of jewelry she ever owned, followed the curve of the neckline in precision as they lay against Nicole’s olive skin. Out of long habit, she deftly arranged a strand of dark hair to cut across the edge of her left eye and cover the mole.

Before her father moved, her trips home for Christmas were in and out. She had not been to her five-year high school reunion or the ten-year event either. Nicole suspected she would see a lot of people tonight from that era of her life. A few she kept up with on Facebook in a casual way, but meeting face-to-face was different. More intimidating.

Any old friends she saw would be pure bonus. The one face she longed for was Quinn’s. For years he helped hold together the life of a motherless girl with a distracted, grieving father. Quinn was the person who heard Nicole’s own grief, who held her quaking shoulders at the announcement of her mother’s sudden passing. Later he was the first teacher to tell her she could write.
Really
write. And for the first time, she had imagined a life outside Hidden Falls.

Nicole picked up the lightweight coat she might like to have later, when temperatures would dip, and walked outside. The passenger seat of her white Hyundai Santa Fe still bore the remains of her sack of snacks for the drive from St. Louis to Hidden Falls. It was ridiculous how much she chomped during a simple two-hour daytime drive. It was not as if she were driving at night and trying to stay awake. Nicole just liked to eat, that’s all. With one hand, she swept the wrappers and napkins into a paper sack and rolled it closed.

The banquet hall was not far. Nothing in Hidden Falls was far. By St. Louis standards,
banquet hall
was a generous term for the evening’s venue. It was a blockish gray building whose main feature was the large, flexible interior space with a stage. Every large gathering in the county happened here. Nicole pulled into a parking space, grateful that the lot was far from full yet. That increased her chances of greeting Quinn before the festivities began.

The door opened more easily than Nicole remembered—perhaps the building was not as neglected as her house—and she stepped into a softly lit foyer.

“Nicole Sandquist?”

Nicole turned toward the voice. It took her a moment to recognize the round face cradled in a swath of dark blond curls.

“Lauren Nock,” Nicole said.

“It’s been ages,” Lauren said. “Somebody told me you were in St. Louis now.”

Nicole nodded. “Investigative reporter for a daily paper.”

“You must work on some fascinating stories.”

“It beats reporting on the garden club agenda.”

Lauren gestured toward a table laden with rows of name tags. “Those might help us know who everybody is, but how can we possibly catch up with everyone?”

Lauren was two years behind Nicole in high school. They never shared classes, but they were on the debate team together. Nicole remembered Lauren as spunky, determined, and talented as an acrobatic cheerleader.

“Are you still throwing yourself in the air and twisting three times before you land?” Nicole asked.

Lauren laughed softly. “Not much call for that when you work for a church.”

“I would think it would impress the youth group.” Nicole ran her finger down the
S
row and found her name tag clipped to a card indicating her choice of entrée.

“As I recall,” Lauren said, “you used to spend your Saturday mornings grooming horses at a stable in Birch Bend.”

Nicole gave a soft sigh. “I haven’t done that since high school. Quinn used to give me a ride over. Funny how he always seemed to have something he needed to do in Birch Bend, and always on Saturday.”

“What do you suppose he was up to?”

“I never asked,” Nicole said. “If I groomed for two hours, I got to ride for one, and that’s all I was interested in.” She wished she had asked. She wished she had asked Quinn a lot of things. She wished she had been back to Hidden Falls to see him before this.

“It should be a terrific evening,” Lauren said. “Are you meeting anyone to sit together?”

Nicole shook her head.

“Then sit with me,” Lauren said. “I already put my purse on a chair at a table right up front.”

“I’d like that.” Nicole glanced into the main banquet area. “Is Quinn here yet?”

Lauren pointed. “Over there against the wall. A few people beat you to it, though. Looks like you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Nicole clipped her name tag to her dress and looked across the banquet hall. The tight cluster of people was a giveaway that Quinn would be at its core. A broad smile rose from deep within Nicole as her heels clicked against the dated gray-and-green tile in a quickening rhythm. Her eyes were on the man in the tux. Every few seconds the position of someone in the group shifted and Nicole got a glimpse of Quinn.

Gesturing.

Smiling.

Clapping people on the back.

Eyes widening in surprise as he recognized one long-ago face after another.

The people were a mix of generations—from people who might have been in Quinn’s classes two or three years ago to those who must have known him in his first year in Hidden Falls.

Nicole’s pace slowed abruptly, and the smile on her face faded. Ethan Jordan had his head tilted toward Quinn, listening intently. Nicole drew a deep breath and resumed her pace. Several people drifted away from Quinn as the crowd started to fill in around tables. If Nicole walked away now, she might not get another chance before the evening’s program began. Ethan Jordan wasn’t going to take this moment from her—or rather, she wasn’t going to give it to him. She approached from behind Quinn.

“Promise me we’ll finish this conversation,” Quinn said to Ethan. “It’s important. I’m so glad you came.”

“I promise,” Ethan said.

“Are you staying with your parents?”

Ethan shook his head. “The motel out by the lake.”

The answer didn’t surprise Nicole, both that Ethan would choose not to go to the family home and that he would choose the lake.

“I’d love to have you stay with me,” Quinn said. “It would give us the time we need. I don’t want to rush our conversation.”

Nicole’s curiosity piqued.

“Can you manage a couple of days?” Quinn asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ethan said. “I was planning to drive back tomorrow.”

“Please,” Quinn said. “I think we need more than one night.”

Nicole watched Ethan’s face. She knew the moment he spotted her and closed his mouth around his reply to Quinn. She stepped into Quinn’s line of sight.

“Nicole!”

His arms surrounded her. She breathed in the same aftershave first embedded in her memory the day her mother died and reinforced at every significant moment through her adolescence.

Quinn. How could she have waited so long? Nicole stepped back. She wanted to see his face.

“What’s this I hear about you being a rising star in the world of journalism?” Quinn said.

Nicole laughed. “I have a byline. That’s what matters right now.” She exhaled relief when Ethan shuffled away.

“I think I might just have to subscribe to a certain St. Louis publication, then. What’s your most interesting story?”

“That’s easy,” Nicole answered quickly. “About three months ago I was working on a story about a doctor with multiple malpractice suits against him because he claimed he could completely remove any kind of birthmark. The truth was, most of the time he turned an innocent birthmark into disfigurement. The lawyer bringing suit found a middle-aged man with a port-wine birthmark on his lower back that looked like a peeling red onion. He was willing to go undercover into the doctor’s practice—even let the doctor use a laser on him if that’s what it took to prove the doctor didn’t know what he was doing. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. We were able to prove the doctor didn’t have the proper credentials for what he claimed to be qualified to do.”

“All this happened in St. Louis?” Quinn’s brow creased. “Just two hours from here?”

“Sounds like more of a New York kind of story, doesn’t it?” Nicole grinned. “I’m so glad to see you! You deserve this night so much.”

Quinn grimaced. “The whole thing makes me a bit nervous, I have to admit.”

Nicole responded to a touch on her elbow. “Mr. Devon. Hi. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“Of course I remember you. Nicole Sandquist, star editor of the Hidden Falls High School
Gazette.
You wanted to change the name of the school paper to
The Splash
.”

Nicole laughed. “Are you still the principal?”

“When you have a good gig, why make trouble?” Miles Devon said. “But I’m afraid I must interrupt your reunion with Quinn and steal him away. The mayor is nearly ready to begin.”

“Uh-oh,” Quinn said.

“Just relax,” Miles said. “The mayor will make a few welcoming remarks. You’ll come out long enough for her to escort you to your table. Then dinner will be served. The main recognition ceremony will follow the meal.”

Quinn took a deep breath and kissed Nicole’s cheek. “Thank you for catching me ahead of time. You don’t know how glad I am to hear your news.”

Nicole watched him stride with the principal to the front of the room and go through a door leading behind the stage curtains.

7:37 p.m.

“There you are.” Sylvia’s skirt swished as she pivoted toward Principal Miles Devon and Quinn.