Where She Belongs (7 page)

Gran's rasping breaths came in shallow gasps that raked his heart. Her waning strength pulled at him, but he clenched his stomach muscles into an iron fist that controlled his grief. He would not fall apart. Not here.

His cousin Amy perched on the edge of a chair, her crystal blue eyes narrowed by worry. Her features, usually so composed, were pale and drawn. She rested her hand gently on Gran's arm, as if her touch could keep their grandmother's life from flying away.

The bedroom door slowly opened, and Brett slipped in. “Any change?”

AJ shook his head.

“Sorry I'm late. I had a business matter to take care of.”

“What's her name?” AJ regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth, but it was like some kind of strange Pavlovian response. An automatic retort to his cousin's excuse. “I'm sorry,” he said hurriedly. “I shouldn't have said that.”

Brett scowled. “For your information, my expertise was needed on a multimillion-dollar deal. Believe me, if I could have postponed it, I would have.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“What you are is jealous.”

“Jealous?” AJ shook his head. “Of you? I don't think so.”

“Admit it. You can't stand my success. With business and with women.”

“Stop it!” Amy's harsh whisper cut through the animosity. She choked back a sob. “Just please stop it.”

Gran's gnarled fingers pulled at the quilt, and her mouth opened and closed.

AJ and Brett hurried to opposite sides of the bed, each clasping one of Gran's arthritic hands.

“It's all right, Gran.” AJ swallowed against the stone pressing against his throat. “Everything's going to be all right.”

“She should be in a hospital.” Brett's voice shook, and Amy gripped his arm.

“That's not what she wanted,” AJ said.

“AJ's right.” Amy gently caressed Gran's fragile arm. “This is where she wants to be. With us.”

“Yesss.” The word was barely a breath. Gran inhaled, and her three grandchildren leaned closer. “Love. You.” Her eyes blinked open, and a slight smile parted her lips. She seemed to garner all her strength before speaking again. “Be good. To each other.”

Her eyes closed, her head relaxed against the pillow, and the hand clasped in AJ's went limp. He squeezed her fingers, willing life to return as his chest tightened. He gulped air, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.

Amy's heartrending sobs broke through the muffling fog. He opened his eyes and, through a mist of tears, endured another squeezing pang. Brett, fighting back tears of his own, embraced his sister. Amy clung to her brother as grief wracked her thin body.

They had each other to hold on to through this storm. Just as they had when all their parents died. When Sully died.

While AJ stood alone.

Without Gran, he was all alone.

As if she read his thoughts, Amy raised her eyes to his and stretched her hand across the bed. AJ hesitated the briefest of
seconds before clasping one hand in hers while still holding on to Gran with his other.

The goodwill born of shared sorrow probably wouldn't last beyond the funeral, but for now he accepted Amy's comforting gesture. For a few minutes, Joyanna Sullivan's beloved grandchildren stood beside her, united in their reluctance to let her go.

After Brett and Amy left the room, AJ tenderly kissed Gran's cheek. Her skin crinkled like thin paper beneath his dry lips.

“What am I going to do without you?” he whispered. “No one loved me like you.”

Except for Me
. The words breathed into his heart.
My steadfast love is with you
always
.

S
helby dragged the red wagon to the sweeping branches of the treasured willow that overhung Glade Creek, then lifted Tabby over the wagon's wooden railing.

“Everybody out. We're here.”

“Is this the 'gagement tree?” Elizabeth's eyes, more green than blue today, shone with wonder. Her long dark hair, so like Gary's, was pulled back in a single braid and tied with purple ribbon. Standing in the wagon bed, she grasped a long slender branch of the weeping willow and pressed it against her cheek.

“It sure is. Come see.” Shelby took both girls by the hand and swung their arms as she counted. “One. Two. Three.” She ducked beneath the branches, and the girls giggled as they slipped between the feathery fronds.

“Look here.” Shelby picked up Tabby and balanced her on her hip, then pointed to a set of initials surrounded by a heart. “C. Z. and A. L. That stands for Adam Lassiter and Catherine Zema. Your grandma and grandpa.”

“Your mommy and daddy,” Elizabeth said. “In Africa.”

“That's right.” She moved around the tree and pointed to another heart. “This one belongs to
my
grandma and grandpa.”

Tabitha slowly recited the letters as she traced them. “A. G. What's this?” She touched the plus sign.

“That means ‘and.' What are these letters?”

“T. L.” Tabby gleamed.

“That's right.”

Elizabeth touched the heart. “What are their names, Mommy?”

“Aubrey Grayson and Thad Lassiter.” She let Tabby slide to the ground. “My grandma Aubrey is Uncle Richard's sister.” Richard had been at Misty Willow when Shelby and the girls drove in from Chicago. He had welcomed them to their new home with American Girl dolls and accessories. Too extravagant of a gift, but kindly meant.

That was almost a week ago. After a few days unpacking, Shelby couldn't wait any longer to explore the land that belonged to her again.

“Who belongs to these letters?” Elizabeth pointed to a heart, lower than all the others, on the other side of the tree. “S. L. and J. O.”

The initials that shouldn't be.

“The S. L. means me.
S
for Shelby and
L
for Lassiter.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. “Your name is different?”

“My name was Lassiter. When I was a little girl like you. Then when I married Daddy, I changed my name to Kincaid.”

“Daddy's initials are J. O.?”

Shelby stifled her laughter at Elizabeth's skeptical expression. She could almost see her daughter's mind working, trying to puzzle out this mystery.

“No, Daddy's initials are G. K. For Gary Kincaid.”

“Then why does it say J. O.?”

Elizabeth had met Jason and Cassie a few days ago when they brought over lasagna and salad. How to explain to a six-year-old why Jason's initials were paired with hers on the 'gagement tree?

“I think that's enough family history. Who's hungry?”

Both girls responded with shouts and jumps as Shelby retrieved
the insulated tote from the wagon and spread a blanket in the shade near the bend in the creek.

“We came a long way, didn't we, Mommy?” Elizabeth plopped on the blanket.

“We sure did.” Not that far really as the crow flies. But because of the wagon, she had to skirt the woods and follow a fencerow through a pasture. The house was hidden by distance. “But worth it, don't you think? Isn't it nice out here?”

Elizabeth gazed at the sun-dappled water of the broad creek as if in deep thought. “I like it.”

“I like it too.” Tabby dropped next to Shelby and folded her hands. “I pray.”

Shelby and Elizabeth echoed Tabby's amen. After they ate their sandwiches and sliced apples, Shelby washed their juice-stained lips and sticky fingers.

“Time for wading.” She helped Tabby take off the top and shorts she wore over her bathing suit while Elizabeth undressed herself. “Leave your tennis shoes on,” she instructed. “No walking barefoot in the creek.”

As they splashed in the cold water, their laughter and squeals warmed Shelby's heart. She sighed as a contentment she hadn't felt in years soothed her spirit. This was why she had pleaded with AJ to sell her the land, why she had uprooted her children from the only home they had known.

To create memories in this place where their ancestors had created memories. To add their laughter to the merriment of those who had been here before them.

Perhaps even to find romance. Brett had sent a huge basket of fruit, snacks, and candy as a housewarming gift. Though she hadn't seen him since their arrival, he called or texted almost every day. Nothing would probably come of it—and she definitely wasn't in a rush to marry anyone—but the flirtatious attentions from such a handsome and successful man made her pleasantly lighthearted. Flattered by his interest in her opinions, she appreciated
their grown-up conversations. Even when they disagreed, he didn't make her feel naive or uninformed.

A turtle about the size of Shelby's fist crawled onto a rock jutting from the creek bed. Tabby clapped her hands in delight as it waggled its head, apparently curious about its visitors.

“Don't get too close,” Shelby warned. “We don't want to frighten him.”

“Can we take him home?” Elizabeth asked.

“This is his home, honey. He wouldn't be happy anywhere else.”

Hearing a soft whistle behind her, Shelby twisted around. AJ Sullivan, a fishing pole slung across his shoulder, approached the bend. Tan cargo shorts and a high school T-shirt revealed muscular arms and legs. He had tanned since she last saw him that evening at the Dixie Diner. Such a fun evening it had been with their juicy cheeseburgers and thick milkshakes.

At least she had thought so. But without meaning to, she'd upset him. It bothered her more than she cared to admit.

Ever since she and the girls moved in, she had expected him to pop in. But there'd been no sign of him. Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, he was still a Sullivan. Probably more like his grandfather than she knew.

The less contact with him the better.

He halted when he saw them, as if uncertain what to do. She gave a hesitant wave and self-consciously pushed loose strands from her face as Elizabeth stepped behind her. Slender damp arms encircled her neck.

“Nice day for wading,” AJ said, coming toward them. “Looks like you're having fun.”

“We found a turtle,” Tabby spoke up before Shelby could answer.

“That so?” He waded to the rock and bent down by Tabby. “I know this turtle. He always comes out here on a good hot day to get a suntan. And then when the moon comes up, he slides back into the water and swims home to his family, and he tells them about the people he met.”

“What's his name?” Tabby's baby blue eyes sparkled.

“His name is”—AJ paused, grimacing at Shelby over Tabby's head—“his name is Tommy. Tommy Turtle.”

“Very original,” Shelby said in a stage whisper.

He shrugged sheepishly.

“Can I touch him?” Tabby asked.

Shelby nodded permission. As AJ reached for the turtle, it receded into its shell. Tabby stretched out one small finger, barely touched the shell, and pulled her hand back with a shriek.

“It's hard,” she said, reaching out to touch it again.

“Can I touch it too?” Elizabeth asked, peering out from behind Shelby.

“Of course, honey.”

Elizabeth tapped the turtle's hard shell and smiled at Shelby.

“Turtles are pretty lucky, I think,” said AJ. “They carry their houses with them on their back. When they get tired, they just go right into their doors and windows.”

“We have a big house,” said Elizabeth. “It's too big to carry around.”

“I could carry it,” Tabby boasted.

“I bet you could.” AJ placed the turtle back on the rock, but it stayed inside its shell. “I guess this means you're all moved in.”

“Moved in, yes,” Shelby said. “Completely unpacked, no.”

He grinned at the girls, squatting to their level. “Will you tell me your names? Or should I guess?”

“I'm Tabby.” She poked her chest with her thumb.

“So glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Tabby. And who's this lovely lady?”

“Elizabeth.” She smiled shyly.

“My grandmother's middle name was Elizabeth. It's one of my favorite names.”

Was
. Shelby stared at AJ. His jaw clenched, but he talked to the girls as if he didn't have a care in the world.

“Is Tabby one of your fav'rite names too?”

AJ poked her tummy, and she giggled. “It sure is.”

“You haven't told us your name,” Elizabeth said.

“My name is, are you ready for this? Anderson John Sullivan the Fourth.”

Elizabeth's eyes grew round. Even Shelby had to admit it sounded impressive when he said it like that.

“What's this for?” Tabby grabbed the fishing pole.

“Fishing.” AJ casually extricated her grip.

“You won't catch anything with us splashing around,” Shelby said. “It's time we headed home anyway.”

“I can fish another day. I don't want to spoil your fun.”

“Will you wade with us, Mr. Fourth?”

Shelby and AJ glanced at Elizabeth, then at each other, and stifled their laughter.

“His name isn't Mr. Fourth, sweetheart.” Shelby squeezed Elizabeth's shoulder. “That just means he's the fourth person in his family with the same name.”

Elizabeth's mouth formed a small
O
, and she hung her head. Shelby stroked her hair, brushing stray wisps from her pale cheeks.

“You can call me AJ, if you want. All my friends do.” He glanced at Shelby. “If that's okay with your mom.”

Elizabeth gazed up at Shelby, her green-flecked eyes pleading. “Is it okay, Mommy?”

Shelby wavered. Normally she didn't let the girls call adults by their first names, but Elizabeth had been mortified by her mistake. She didn't suppose they'd see much of AJ anyway, so it didn't really matter.

“How about you call him Mr. AJ?”

Elizabeth's thankful smile told her she'd made the right decision.

Tabby tugged at the hem of AJ's shorts. “Fish now.”

“Tabitha Jean,” Shelby said in her you-don't-talk-like-that-to-grown-ups voice.

“I wanna know how.”

“You don't know how to fish? That's terrible.” AJ's brown eyes
were wide with exaggerated horror. “If you're going to be a farm girl, you gotta know how to fish.”

“I wanna be a farm girl.” Tabby jumped up and down. “Farm girl. Farm girl.”

“You started this.” Shelby pretended to glare at AJ as she crossed her arms. “What are you going to do now?”

“Teach her to fish. Unless you'd like to.”

“You go ahead. I need to clean things up a bit.” She knelt on the blanket, then placed the picnic leftovers back in the insulated tote.

AJ gathered his fishing equipment and led the girls a few feet up the creek to a deeper bend. Bored after about five minutes, Tabby wandered back to Shelby and was soon asleep in her lap.

Elizabeth and AJ were too far away for Shelby to hear their conversation, but once in a while, her little girl's laughter or AJ's chuckle floated on the light summer breeze. The sound warmed Shelby's spirit. AJ's quiet patience obviously filled a hole in Elizabeth's grieving heart. Shelby couldn't dislike him for that.

Her eyelids grew heavy in the summer heat, but she startled, immediately alert, when Elizabeth squealed. Wind bent the long grasses near the bank, and the creek reflected graying clouds.

“I got one!” Elizabeth shouted. “I got one!”

Shelby gingerly moved Tabby from her lap and walked to the bend. With AJ's help, Elizabeth reeled in the line. A silvery fish, no more than five or six inches long, struggled on the hook.

AJ held it up. “I told you we'd get one. Just takes patience.”

“I caught it, Mommy.” Elizabeth grabbed Shelby's hand, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “All by myself.”

“You did great, honey.”

“She sure did. Just like a pro.” AJ knelt in front of Elizabeth. “What do you say we throw him back in the creek? Give him a chance to get a little bigger.”

Elizabeth stared at the little fish wiggling in AJ's palms. “Can I do it?”

AJ carefully unhooked the fish and slipped it into her upturned
palms, cupping them with his own. Together they knelt at the edge of the creek and placed their hands in the water. The fish quickly swam away.

A stronger gust stirred up ripples in the creek, and the sky darkened. Black clouds melded together, racing toward them.

“Storm's coming,” AJ said.

“I need to get the girls home.”

“You'll never make it. My place is closer.”

“I couldn't—”

“I suppose you've found something else to be mad about.” He glanced at Elizabeth still kneeling at the creek bank, and lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “What is it this time?”

“You're the one who's mad,” Shelby whispered back.

“What are you talking about?”

A lightning bolt flashed in the sky, and Elizabeth rushed to Shelby's side. Embracing her daughter, Shelby gazed at the gathering clouds. AJ was right. She'd never make it home before the storm hit. “Where do you live?”

“That way.” He gestured southwest. Gusts of wind swept across the pasture, bending the long grasses and stirring up dust eddies. The willow's branches danced wildly.

AJ closed his tackle box and picked up his pole. “Are you coming with me?”

Staring toward her unseen house, Shelby considered her options. It'd taken them almost an hour to get here. The storm wouldn't wait for them to reach home.

“We're going with you.”