The Year of Chasing Dreams (22 page)

“Roy?”

Ciana nodded. “He got out here somehow. Somehow knew she’d be alone. He stayed for three days. And he ‘comforted’ her. That’s how she wrote it in the diary—comforted. There were no other details. I think I know what she meant. What about you?”

Sunlight spilled across Ciana’s bed in buttery yellow pools as Eden took a minute to formulate what she wanted to say. What had happened during those days between Olivia and Roy was speculation, and yet knowing how Olivia had been drawn to Roy, Eden could not come to any other conclusions. She took Ciana’s hand, which felt cold in spite of the warm sun. “From all we’ve read, the two of them were on a collision course. We know she was fascinated with him. They were hung up on each other—love-hate, fatal attraction—call it what you will, but maybe this encounter, and how it turned out, was inevitable.”

“Why didn’t she make him go away when he showed up?
She was married! And from other things she wrote, Roy was married too. Had a child too.”

“I know how you worshipped her, but I also know what it’s like to be in someone’s snare … in their
thrall
. I felt that way about Tony in the beginning. He was … addictive. I wanted him so bad, I was physically ill over it. And I sure lived to regret it.” Eden’s admission came with physical pain, yet she couldn’t stand seeing Ciana’s disillusionment with the grandmother she had idolized.

“You were a
kid
. My grandmother was a grown woman.” Tears of anger and frustration brimmed in Ciana’s eyes. “She loved my grandfather. She told me so many times.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But Roy wanted her. And she was vulnerable. Alone, grieving, scared. He took advantage.” Yet Eden knew there was more to the story by the look on Ciana’s face. She waited.

“She—she wrote about it again, but not until months later.” Ciana reached into her bedside table’s drawer, pulled out an old water-damaged book, opened to a bookmarked page, and read, “ ‘This is my punishment. This is divine retribution. Oh God, what have I done?’ ” Ciana closed the book.

“Okay. See? Whatever happened with Roy, she regretted it.”

Ciana offered a tired, indulgent smile. She had to help Eden understand the awful importance of what Olivia had written fifty-four years before. “She wrote these words in April, three months after the ice storm. And right after she’d found out she was three months pregnant with my mother.”

Ciana’s words hit Eden like a splash of stone-cold water.

“Don’t you get it?” Ciana asked.

Eden racked her brain for a kinder spin on Olivia’s assessment of her pregnancy. Eden leaned forward, took Ciana by the shoulders, forced Ciana to look into her eyes. “Olivia was married. And as you said, she loved her husband. There’s no reason for you to think Alice Faye isn’t Charles’s child.”

“Olivia thought so.”

“No. Guilt and shame drove her, not certainty.”

“So? It built a wall around her heart, and Mom paid the price.” Ciana hugged her knees, chewed her bottom lip. “Should I tell Mom? It might help her understand Olivia’s rejection, which as it turns out was absolutely real.” She buried her face against her knees. “I—I don’t know what to do.”

Eden wanted to ease Ciana’s hurt, but she didn’t want Alice Faye, who’d been so kind to her, to suffer either. “What’s that oath that doctors say? ‘First, do no harm.’ I mean, what purpose would it serve to tell her? She’s a recovering alcoholic.
She’s happy. Why drag this up? How can knowing this help? It isn’t like she can go to Olivia and hash things out, you know.”

Eden’s logic made sense, but still Ciana felt guilty withholding information that might bring her mother insight into Olivia’s motives and feelings.

Seeing Ciana’s hesitation, Eden pressed her advantage. “And now that you know, my advice to you, my dear friend, is to forget it. Don’t let it color your feelings toward your grandmother. I never had a grandmother I knew. I’ve always envied that you loved yours so very much.”

Ciana saw the wisdom of Eden’s words, but still her anger simmered. She’d slavishly clung to her image of Olivia, unwavering, defended her religiously to her mother. And now, seeing her in a different light, Ciana felt sorry for being so blind to the woman’s flaws. Sure, the knowledge might vindicate Alice Faye’s feelings, but what good would it do? Wasn’t it bad enough that her image of Olivia was tarnished? She remembered the old woman’s last days, her dementia and confusion. In spite of everything, Ciana still missed her. “I guess you’re right.”

“Exactly,” Eden said with a smile. She stretched her legs, felt the needles-and-pins sensation of blood flowing into cramped muscles. She leaned back on her hands. “So now tell me something happy.”

Ciana brushed aside her troubled feelings, offered a sly smile. “Well, you and Garret can’t go rushing off on your tour of America anytime soon.”

“We can’t?”

“I’m planting extra fields this year. Corn. I’ve already had the soil samples tested and analyzed for pH levels. That way I know how to best amend the soil—”

“Yikes! My eyes are glassing over,” Eden yelped.

Ciana grinned impishly. “Okay, if you don’t care about hanging around watching corn grow, how about hanging around for my wedding?”

Eden startled, then launched forward, grabbing Ciana. “How could you have not told me this the second I came in the door?”

“I’m a drama queen.”

“Have you picked a date?”

“This summer, before the corn harvest.” Eden rolled her eyes. Ciana continued, “Of course, I also need to line up a maid of honor.”

“Me?” Eden pointed to herself. “I’d be honored,” she added smugly. “Found a dress yet?”

“Haven’t had time to look for one.”

All at once, Eden’s eyes went wide. “Then you haven’t looked for my dress either.” Her expression turned panicky. “Oh, Ciana, please,
please
put me in a dress, not coveralls!”

Ciana burst out laughing.

Around lunchtime, Ciana and Eden took a picnic basket to Jon and Garret at the new corral and track. The men had ridden Caramel and Sonata, and Soldier rested beside the water trough. Both men were seated on the ground, and Garret was drawing on a pad of paper in his lap as Jon looked over his shoulder. Ciana asked, “What’s up?”

“We’re designing stables,” Jon said. “If I’m bringing in horses to train, they’ll need a place to stay. Turns out Garret has a background in construction.”

Garret looked up, grinned. “Growing up I spent every
summer with my uncle, who owns his own building business. I learned how to handle every job. Just need to research your building codes. Jon and I will get a stable up in no time.”

Eden settled on the ground beside him. “Guess that means we’ll be staying awhile.”

“Looks like it.”

“Soon as the plans are finished, we’ll go into town and order the lumber,” Jon added.

“Maybe I should buy me a cowboy hat,” Garret mused, attempting a western twang. “And a pair of boots. I like the boots.”

More laughter. Garret’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Ciana’s heart swelled. She shoved memories of Olivia’s diary to the back of her mind and decided that happiness was right in front of her in the form of friends, family, spring sunshine, fresh earth, and horses. What had happened years before she was even born was history. And no one could change history.

Once the threat of frost was over, Eden helped Alice Faye plant the backyard garden. The dirt had been tilled and turned, the tiny seedlings spaced and planted on raised mounds, away from drowning rain. She had seen the results of these early days of hard labor the summer before, the lush and abundant growth, the almost daily harvest of food that, when blanched and put into glass jars and stored properly, guaranteed that no one on a farm would go hungry. And with Garret living at Bellmeade too, she felt totally content. In the cool of the morning, she heard the echo of his hammer and the buzz of his handsaw. At the end of the day, she made the long trek from the back of the garden through the stand of trees to
the newly rising stables, where Garret would shout, “Come to give me a kiss and a cold beer for a hard day’s work?”

On occasion they would steal away and find a private place to be alone, to make love, to plan for the trip they’d take once Ciana and Jon were married. If it rained and no one could work, they’d meet in the barn up in the loft and while away the afternoon.

Eden gave Ciana money even though Ciana at first refused it. “Take it! Until the garden comes in,” Eden insisted. “I know this place doesn’t run on fresh air.” Late at night, after being with Garret in the camper, Eden saw the lamp glowing from the room she knew was Ciana’s office, and knew Ciana was poring over ledgers and working with cost containment. Bellmeade was a fearsome burden, and Eden swore to do whatever she could to help her friend carry it.

One evening while the night air was still cool, Eden and Ciana sat on the veranda, sharing a bottle of Enzo’s wine. Jon had built them a small fire in a brazier for warmth, and Alice Faye had sliced fresh bread and cheese for a snack.

Eden propped her feet on the porch railing, held up the glass, watched the fire gleam through the ruby-colored liquid. “The man sure knows how to make good wine.”

“Let’s toast us,” Ciana said.

Eden’s glass clinked against hers. “To all of us,” she said.

“And to our futures,” Ciana added.

“And to finding a great wedding dress for you. A pretty maid of honor dress for me.”

“And to—”

“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Eden said. “Let’s just drink our wine before the fire goes out!”

They both laughed. Ciana again clinked her glass with
Eden’s. The new fields were planted. The fence cutting and vandalism had evaporated, thanks to Cecil’s diligence, and now, with the new stables nearing completion, Jon was eager to get married, go west, and buy mustangs. Combining Jon’s horse business with her agribusiness would give Bellmeade a real future. All it would take was hard work, patience, money, good weather, and a whole lot of luck. But Olivia had always said, “Just because something’s hard, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.” On that point, Ciana agreed with her grandmother wholeheartedly. She could do this! With a little help from her friends.