Magnolia Dawn (18 page)

Travis uttered the threat quietly, but with a wealth of meaning. Rush hadn't a doubt the man meant what he said. Rush met his eyes, unperturbed. “That's a pretty bold statement for a guy in a thousand-dollar suit.”

“I don't give a damn about the suit. It's Anna I care about.” He took a step closer to Rush. “Hurt her, and I'll kill you.”

Rush swept his gaze over Travis Gentry. He had six inches and fifty pounds on the other man. Yet Travis was threatening him.

The truth hit him like a blow. Anna needed a man like Travis Gentry. Solid and dependable. A man who could love her. A man able to make a commitment.

At the thought of Anna with this man, or any other, fury rushed over him. Jealousy with it. Rush flexed his fingers, battling the emotion. “She must mean a great deal to you.”

“More than a man like you could understand.”

Rush narrowed his eyes. He wanted to flatten the guy. He wanted to tell him that Anna's welfare was none of his concern, that he had it well in hand.

He couldn't do that. He'd hurt her already. His relationship to her might make that kind of possessiveness unthinkable.

And when he left, she would be better off with Travis.

The thought took his breath. “I'll consider myself warned, Gentry. Excuse me.”

* * *

Anna sat beside Lowell's bed, battling tears. By the time she'd made it to his side, he'd fallen asleep. So she'd sat quietly beside him, holding his hand and praying.

It hurt to see him this way. It hurt to know she could have prevented this.

He meant more to her than anything. Certainly more than Ashland. He was her brother. She curved her hand around his, laying so still and white against the hospital sheet. He'd been right about her, she realized. She'd used Ashland to hide from life for too long. She'd let Ashland substitute for love. She'd used it to hide her, protect her, comfort her.

No more.

She loved her brother so much. To help him, she would sell Ashland—without a moment's regret. It was, after all, only mortar and brick.

She bent and pressed her cheek to their joined hands. What would he say when he saw her? Would he remind her that she'd turned him away? Would she see blame in his eyes when he looked at her? She didn't know if she could live with it if he did.

“Hey, sis.”

Anna lifted her head. Lowell had awakened and looked at her, his swollen eyes barely slits. Her own eyes filled with tears. She fought back a sob. “Hey, baby brother.”

Lowell smiled weakly, the curving of his mouth almost a grimace. “What's with the tears?”

They welled and slipped down her cheeks. She brushed at them, feeling completely helpless. “What do you think?”

“You don't like my new look?” He coughed, the sound weak and ragged. “It's the latest from Bad Guys `R' Us.”

This time she couldn't catch the sob, and she buried her face in her hands. “I'm so sorry. So sorry, Lowell. Please forgive me.” She met his eyes, brushing at her tears. “You mean a million times more to me than Ashland. I'll sell, Lowell. I don't want it if it means you're going to be hurt again.”

“Anna…you didn't…do this.”

She curved her fingers around his, clinging. “But if I hadn't refused to help you…if I hadn't—”

“You'd have sold Ashland and I'd still be a weak, worthless piece of trash.”

She looked up. His voice had been so faint, she wasn't certain she'd heard correctly. “What…did you say?”

“That you were…right.” He coughed again. “You can't sell our heritage. You can't sell what you…love so much.”

“But, it's only a thing, Lowell. It's only—”

“I've messed up my life. Done my best to mess up yours. I've treated you so badly, you probably don't even know…how much I…love you.”

“Oh, Lowell. I love you, too.”

He grasped her fingers, squeezing weakly. “I'm not…like…Daddy. I'm going…to prove…”

His eyes fluttered shut and his grip on her fingers eased. He'd fallen asleep again. Anna leaned over to kiss his cheek, and found that it was wet.

Her heart turned over; her own eyes filled. She hadn't seen him cry since he'd been a boy.

She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it. “I love you,” she whispered. “You're going to be okay. Finally, you're going to be okay.”

After several minutes, she carefully slipped her hand from his and stood. Her first thought was of Rush. She wanted to tell him what had happened, wanted to share the good news with him.

But he was gone.

Anna moved her gaze over the nearly empty waiting room, the taste of disappointment bitter in her mouth. She looked at Travis. “Where's Rush?”

“He left.”

“Oh.” Tears stung her eyes, and she looked away. “I see.”

“How's Lowell?”

“Sleeping now. But…” A tremulous smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she looked back at her old friend. “But he's okay, Trav. In a way he hasn't been in a long time.” She clasped her hands together. “He's going to try to get his act together.”

Travis
dragged a hand through his hair. “Thank God.”

Exhausted, Anna sank into a chair and leaned her head against its back. She closed her eyes.

“Anna?”

She didn't look at him. “Hmm?”

“We need to talk.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. She saw what was coming in his expression. She didn't want to face it, not now when she was so emotionally and physically drained. But it wasn't fair to keep Travis hoping.

She straightened. “Yes, Trav?”

“Have you thought anymore about my offer?”

She hesitated at his word choice.
Offer.
As if he'd made her a business proposition. He wasn't in love with her, Anna realized. Not even a smidgen. Knowing that made what she had to do easier. “You mean your marriage proposal?”

“Yes.”

“I have,” she said softly, carefully. “But my answer hasn't changed. I can't marry you, Travis.”

He let out a pent-up breath, disappointment marring his handsome features. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She stood and crossed to him. She gathered his hands in hers. “I'm in love with Rush.”

“And does he love you?”

The question hurt. Because Rush didn't, and because she suspected Travis knew that. But he had asked anyway.

Anna inched her chin up. “Do
you
love me?” she countered.

“You know I do.”

“I know you love me as a sister. As a friend. But that's not the same thing. And you know it.”

He shook his head. “We could have a good marriage, Anna. We have so much in common. We're so much alike.”

She looked him in the eye. “Truthfully, Trav, which do you want more? Me or Ashland?”

“That's not fair.”

“It's very fair.” She reached up and stroked Travis's cheek. “I don't want to be a part of a package deal. I want somebody to love and want me for
me.
And only me. I want romantic love. I want passion.”

“And you have this with Cousins?”

“Yes.”

Travis started to turn away from her. She caught his hand again, lacing their fingers. “Someday you're going to meet a woman who absolutely sets your pants on fire. You won't want to be married to your comfortable old friend, then. If I told you yes, we would both end up hurt. I don't want to lose you, Trav. You're too important to me.”

He smiled and brought her hand to his mouth. “I don't want to lose you, either.”

“Can we still be friends?”

“You haven't given me any other choice.” He squeezed her fingers to take the sting out of the words, then released them. “I hope this guy makes you happy. You deserve it.”

Tears filled her eyes. “He won't. He doesn't love me back.”

“I'm sorry, Anna.”

She smiled sadly. “Me, too, Travis.”

Chapter Thirteen

A
nna spent the next several days at the hospital, only returning to Ashland to shower and sleep. Lowell continued to improve, and as he did his resolve to change didn't waver. He'd even talked to Travis about a job. Anna had never seen him so determined before. She believed that finally he would turn his life around.

But what of her own life? she wondered, gazing out her bedroom window at the brilliant new morning, finding no joy in it. She hadn't seen Rush since that first day at the hospital, although she'd seen lights on at his house and evidence that he'd been working on Ashland during the day.

She'd missed him. She'd ached for him. That wasn't going to change.

Anna turned away from the window. Over the past days, whenever she'd begun to despair over her relationship with Rush, she'd thought of something else, anything else. She'd immersed herself in Lowell's needs, spending long hours at the hospital, pushing herself until she was exhausted. And it had worked.

But she couldn't go on this way. She couldn't ignore or deny her feelings any longer. Anna headed out to the hall and down the stairs. She had to know if Rush was her brother or not. And once she did, she would know the right way to say goodbye.

Tears choked her, and she fought them back. Now wasn't the time to fall apart. She would have plenty of time for that in the days and weeks ahead.

Anna crossed the foyer, stopping at the parlor doorway. Her mother's sketch pads were still spread out over the floor. Taunting her.

Who was that little boy? she wondered, gazing at the tablets. Was he Rush? Her stomach tightened into a knot of denial. She didn't want it to be true, but wishing it wasn't so wouldn't change the truth.
And it wouldn't make the problem go away.

Anna walked into the parlor and sat on the floor. She picked up the sketch pad that contained the drawing of the boy and opened it. For long moments she gazed at the drawing, studying the boy's face.

Who was he?

Macy would have the answers they sought. She'd returned from her sister's the day before and had visited Lowell at the hospital. Anna hadn't mentioned anything about Rush or the drawings; then hadn't been the time or place.

Now was.

After calling Macy to arrange a time to stop by, Anna gathered up the drawing tablet and went in search of Rush.

She found him at the toolshed, getting out the equipment needed for the day's repairs.

He stopped what he was doing and watched her approach. He looked tired and tense. And unbearably sexy in his white T-shirt and blue jeans.

“Hi,” she said softly, wanting to touch him but clasping her hands tighter around the tablet instead.

He looked down at the ground, then back up at her. “How's Lowell?”

“Doing well. He's…doing very well. Thank you.”

Rush smiled. The curving of his lips looked stiff, uncomfortable. “I'm glad for you, Anna.”

Silence stretched between them. Terrible and leaden. Would it always be this way between them? she wondered. No matter the outcome of their meeting with Macy, would it always be so awkward?

She took a deep breath. “I called Macy this morning. She said we could come by.”

She heard his quick intake of breath, and she knew she'd surprised him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” She looked away, her throat closing over the words. “We have to know, Rush. I realize that now. A part of me, a big part, wants to stick my head in the sand and hide from the truth.”

She shook her head. “But I can't do that. I've done it for too long. I've used Ashland to hide from life, to hide from the real world. Lowell was right about that.”

She drew in a deep breath. “It's scary, though. I'm not going to lie about that. The emotional ramifications of this are so…far-reaching. My feelings for you are involved, what we've been to each other.
My feelings for my father…maybe even my mother. Who knows?”

“I'm sorry I came here, Anna. I'm sorry I hurt you.”

The pain in his eyes tore at her. She took a step toward him, her own eyes swimming. “You changed my life. You've given me so much.” She shook her head. “Please…don't regret having come here. Don't regret our having become lovers. Before you, I was lonely. And afraid. Of being touched. Of being hurt.”

She stroked his cheek with her fingertip, then dropped her hand. “Before you, I thought I'd never be able to love a man.”

“Anna—”

She stopped him. “I
do
love you. The way I feel isn't about sex.” She brushed at a tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. “Considering what we suspect may be possible about our relationship to each other, it sounds almost obscene to tell you how I feel. But I wanted to tell you now, before we meet with Macy, because after…I might not be able to. I love you, Rush.”

He folded her into his arms and held her. Quietly. Without touching her in any other way. And she clung to him, knowing that this could be the last time she held him as her lover.

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to memorize this moment, its sensations. His rich, male scent, the thrum of his heart against hers, the whisper of his breath against her hair. Soon, memories would be all she had.

She drew away from him, searching his features. “Ready?”

He smiled and nodded. There was a youthful eagerness in his expression that tore at her heartstrings. He'd waited a long time for this. She prayed he found his answers today.

They walked to the truck in silence, and save for Anna giving Rush directions, they didn't speak again until they'd reached Macy's house.

Macy opened the door, her big face wreathed in smiles. When she saw Rush, she didn't try to hide her surprise. “Why, Annabelle, I didn't know you were bringin' a friend.”

Anna smiled. “You remember Rush?”

“'Course I do.” Macy beamed at him. “The Yankee. Come on in.”

She led them to the parlor, then went in search of another teacup and cookie plate, despite Rush's assurance that he didn't care for anything.

It seemed an eternity, but finally they were all seated, facing one another. Beside her, Anna heard Rush suck in a deep breath. She glanced at him and saw the impatience that pushed at him. Felt his excitement. She could understand. This could be the day he finally caught up with his past.

Or it could be nothing.

Her stomach twisted into a dozen different knots. As if sensing her unease the way she'd sensed his, he reached across and squeezed her cold hand.

Macy watched them, a perplexed expression on her face. She shifted her gaze to the sketch pad in Anna's hands. “Why, Annabelle, that looks like one of Miz Constance's sketch pads.”

“It is,” Anna said breathlessly. “It's why we've come today.”

Macy nodded. “I knew somethin' was up. Tell old Macy what it is.”

Anna opened the tablet to the drawing of the boy and handed it to Macy. “Rush and I found this and we were wondering…hoping, you would know who this boy is.”

The older woman gazed at the drawing, tears filling her eyes. She lifted them to Anna. “Where did you find this?”

“On the third floor with the rest of Mama's tablets.”

Macy shook her head. “I don't believe it. I thought Mr. Joshua had done away with all of these.”

Rush reached for her hand again, this time clinging to it. Anna choked back a sound of despair. “Why would Daddy do that? Who was this child?”

“This was my boy,” Macy said softly, her dark eyes filling with tears. “And your mama's.” The tears slipped down her cheeks and she brushed at them. “Lord knows, I haven't been able to gaze at this sweet face in so long.” She stroked the edges of the paper lovingly. “My little Robby.”

“Robby who?” Anna pressed. “Why don't I know him?”

For several moments, Macy remained silent, studying the image before her. Then, as if preparing herself for an ordeal, she drew herself up and looked straight at Anna. “You know your daddy was married before?”

Anna nodded.

“Miz Cecelia was one pretty woman. Dainty as a flower, an' sweet as one, too. Full of life. But she wasn't strong like your mama. No, sir, she wasn't strong at all.”

Macy sighed and looked at the drawing once more. “As you know, Mr. Joshua wasn't the easiest man to live with. He was terrible moody an' given to wild, reckless behavior. He was downright mean many a time. Those two should never have married. I knew it all along but no one bothered to ask Macy.”

The old housekeeper's eyes glazed over as she remembered. “They weren't married but a couple of months before Miz Cecelia knew she'd made a terrible mistake. She was cryin' all the time. Sick from bein'
so sad. Mr. Joshua started takin' off for long stretches, months at a time. It was during one of those stretches that Cecelia turned to his best friend, Robby, for comfort.”

“Robby?” Rush asked, leaning forward.

“Robert Lee Truesdale. He was Joshua's first cousin by marriage. Sweet boy. Gentle. Big and good-lookin', too. Like you are.”

The photo.
Anna looked at Rush; she saw by his expression that he remembered, too. That's why the man in it had seemed familiar, she realized, her heart pounding. He'd reminded her of Rush.

“One thing led to another,” Macy continued. “Your daddy found out about the affair when Cecelia was almost at term with Robby's
baby. We all known it wasn't Mr. Joshua's child, that it couldn't be. He would have too, if he'd counted back.”

The old woman folded her big hands tightly in her lap. Anna knew how difficult this must be for her; she could see the pain in her eyes. “Even with all his moods, I'd never seen Mr. Joshua like that before.
He went crazy. Insane with jealousy and rage. Couldn't blame him his feelings none. He'd been betrayed by both his wife and best friend. And all along preparin' for the baby, and thinkin' it was his.
But still, the good Lord didn't create us in His likeness to act that way. No, sir.

“He and Miz Cecelia fought. In all my days I'd never heard such a terrible row. Nor have I since.” Macy shuddered. “Me an' the other house girl, there wasn't nothin' we could do `cept listen in horror.
After all, we were servants. An' black ones at that. He hit her at least once. I know, `cause I heard her hit the wall.”

Macy shook her head sadly. “An' her with child, too. I knew it would cost me my job, but I couldn't stand it no more and was runnin' to call the sheriff, when Mr. Joshua, he yelled for me.

“Miz Cecelia had gone into labor. Your daddy, he stormed off, leavin' me and the other girl to tend her. In those days the closest hospital was Greenville, and I knew she didn't have time to make it there.
Doc Garner took care of us all, but he was over in Riverview seein' to another woman. So I sent Brady to fetch him an' called the midwife. Many a baby had been born by midwife, and I thought…”

Macy lowered her eyes to her hands, folded as if in prayer. After several moments of silence, she began again. “I believe Miz Cecelia would have made it had Doc Garner been there. But the midwife, she couldn't stop the bleedin'. An' by the time the doc did get there, she was too far gone. Like I said, Miz Cecelia wasn't a strong woman.”

“Oh, Macy…” Anna reached across and covered her old friend's hand. “How horrible for you.”

“I wished I could've done more…”

“What about the baby?” Rush asked quietly.

“A fine, healthy boy,” Macy murmured, lowering her eyes to the tablet. “This boy.”

“But, Macy,” Anna said, drawing her eyebrows together in confusion, “what happened to him? He didn't grow up at Ashland, yet in these drawings he's at least two.”

“I'd just lost my own little baby, and I still had milk. It was decided that the baby would live with me and Brady until he was weaned. Then he would be given up for adoption.”

Her voice thickened with tears. “Then along came Miz Constance. She fell in love with that little boy. We all did. `Cept Mr. Joshua. He hated him.”

Macy met Anna's eyes. “After the thing with Miz Cecelia, your daddy was never the same again. His moods became blacker, he drank and gambled all the time. He insisted the child be named after his real daddy, although I never knew why. It was almost as if he wanted to be reminded of…what had happened.

“Your mama, she didn't want to let her little Robby go. But she came to realize she had to. She had another baby to consider—you, Annabelle—and she knew Robby wouldn't grow up right at Ashland. Because of Joshua's hate. And she hoped that Mr. Joshua would begin to forget.” She shook her head sadly. “Me and Brady wanted to keep him. But it wouldn't have been proper, us being black.”

Tears stung Anna's eyes. Macy had always wanted to be a mother. But because of the color of her skin, she hadn't been able to keep a child who had loved and needed her. Senseless and sad.

“Mr. Joshua had assured your mama that he'd found a good family up north for Robby, and he took him away. For a while he was better. Then along came Lowell and it started all over again. His black, bitter moods. His binges.” She lifted her shoulders. “It was as if his own son reminded him of the one that hadn't been his.

“Miz Constance mourned her little Robby for the rest of her days, finding comfort only in the fact that he was in a good home with parents who loved him.

“I mourned him, too,” Macy said, turning her gaze to Rush, tears slipping down her cheeks. “You that little boy?” she asked. “You my little Robby?”

Rush gazed at her, his eyes bright. Anna saw his fight for control. “Yes,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I believe I am.”

She held out her arms. “Then come here, child. I been waitin' a long time to hold you in my arms again.”

Rush hesitated a moment, then stood and went to her. The big woman folded her arms around him, and after a moment, Rush wrapped his around her, too. Anna watched, choked with emotion, tears running down her face.