Radclyffe - Homestead

Her father’s goal had always been power and money, and fuel was both. She couldn’t pretend her work wasn’t part of that quest for dominance in the industrial realm, but her company created hundreds if not thousands of jobs and revitalized local economies in areas of the country where poverty had been a way of life for decades. The men and women who poured in to maintain a drilling operation needed housing, food, entertainment, and medical services. Villages that had been little more than ghost towns were suddenly booming. She was proud of that.

The wheels touched down with barely a whisper and the jet slowed to a stop. Clay unbuckled, rose, and stretched. The cockpit door opened and the first officer, Gloria, a tight-bodied short-haired redhead in a well-tailored navy-blue uniform, stepped through. Gloria smiled at Clay. “Enjoy the flight?”

“I did, yes.”

“Plans for dinner?”

Across the aisle Ella closed her iPad, stood, and took her briefcase out of an overhead compartment. She murmured, “Seven a.m. site review.”

“Uh-huh,” Clay said, contemplating inviting Gloria for dinner and perhaps some after-dinner recreation, when Ron exited the cockpit and pushed open the cabin door. A sultry breeze blew in, carrying a wave of nostalgia that catapulted Clay back in time. The pine scent of the forest mixed with the crystalline clarity of the wind off the lake flooded over her, filling her with a longing so intense she reached out to grip the seat beside her to steady herself.

“Everything all right?” Gloria asked with a quizzical look.

“Fine,” Clay said abruptly. The question in Gloria’s eyes changed to surprise and a little bit of hurt, and Clay added quickly, “Sorry. Long day—short night. I’m a little tired. Rain check?”

“Of course.” Gloria’s expression softened. “We’ll be at the Airport Marriott overnight if you change your mind.”

“Thanks.” Gloria and Ron disappeared back into the cockpit to complete their post-flight check, and Clay turned to Ella, who had her cell to her ear. “What’s the plan?”

“The car is coming around now. We’ll get your luggage loaded and—”

“You know what?” Clay said, suddenly unable to face one more hour scheduled by someone else. “You take my things to—where are we going?”

Ella flipped open her iPad, although Clay doubted she actually needed to refer to it. “It looks like Millie has us in a B and B somewhere near the job—the Rice Mansion in…Cambridge? That’s about forty—”

“I know where Cambridge is,” Clay said. What was Millie thinking? “I’ll be there later.”

“Do you want me to arrange for another car—”

“Yes. Wait, no.” Clay grabbed her briefcase and handed it to Ella. “Put this with my luggage, will you.” She took off her suit jacket and handed that over also. “Take this too.”

“All right, but—”

“Don’t worry,” Clay muttered. “I’ll make the meeting.”

“Keep your phone on,” Ella called as Clay brushed by her and took the steps two at a time down the airstairs that had been pushed up against the body of the jet. Ignoring the black company SUV, she hurried the other way into the terminal and over to the information counter.

A matronly woman in her sixties looked up with an open smile and twinkling blue eyes. “Welcome to Albany. Can I help you?”

“You can,” Clay said, leaning on the counter. “Where’s the closest motorcycle dealer?”

Tess listened to the phone ring, unsurprised when the answering machine clicked on. Finding someone home seemed to be a rare occasion these days. She listened to the message, on the verge of hanging up, when the beep to record came on and she suddenly felt like a coward—like history was repeating itself—something she swore she’d never let happen. She took a breath, willed her voice to be steady. “Leslie, I know this is going to seem like a strange request, and you probably don’t even remember me, but this is Tess Rogers and I—”

“Tess!” Leslie sounded out of breath. “Sorry, I was down at the dock when I heard the phone ring. That hill seems to be getting bigger and bigger all the time.” She laughed, sounding the way she had when she was seventeen—full of energy and joy.

Tess’s chest tightened, remembering the last time she’d seen Leslie Harris.

“Hey, Les!” Tess set down the square blue plastic cleaning caddy filled with solutions and paraphernalia and waited while Leslie climbed the narrow dirt path up the hill from the boathouse at the edge of the lake.

“Oh my God, it’s so hot! You want to go swimming?” Leslie pushed blond hair out of her eyes, her smooth, even complexion tanned from a summer spent on the water, or in it. She wore a navy-blue halter top that showed off her lean belly above denim shorts and long tanned legs. She wasn’t even conscious of how attractive she was, and Tess liked her for that. It seemed that all the girls, or most of them, who came to the lake for the summer were beautiful, or wealthy, or, most often, both. Sometimes, Tess felt like the ugly duckling surrounded by swans, even though she knew there was nothing wrong with her. It was just hard not to feel less when she was so different. Leslie never made her feel that way, even though Leslie was the boss’s daughter.

“Sure,” Tess said. “Anything I can do to help you get ready for the party?”

“I think just about everything is all set.” Leslie looked around, probably checking for her parents, and said in a stage whisper, “Except the beer. Mike is taking care of that.”

Leslie reached for one of the mop buckets Tess was about to carry up to the shed in back of the main lodge, and Tess protested. “You don’t have to—”

“I’ve got it.” Leslie grinned at her. “Come on. You’re done for the day, right? I have to get in the water.”

“Just a sec.” Tess took her work list out of the back pocket of her khaki shorts and double-checked her room assignments. She’d done all the single rooms in the lodge first thing in the morning, and the lakeside cabins in the afternoon. Once she’d changed the sheets and towels, washed whatever dishes had been left in the sink, vacuumed, dusted, and cleaned the bathrooms, she’d checked off each room as having been completed. After two months, she was fast and efficient and hardly thought of her job as work.

Being a chambermaid was a piece of cake compared to farm chores. She shared a little apartment in the basement of the main lodge with another girl, got cheap board and minimum wage. Best of all, she got to live at the lake, away from home, away from the farm and the farm kids, and she got to meet exciting girls like Clay. She blushed and put her head down. She knew all the other girls talked together all the time about their boyfriends—who was the best kisser, who tried to go too far, and who was worth going too far with—but she never joined in. She didn’t mind being on the outside for once because her secret was so special. Just like Clay.

“Earth to Tess…”

“Tess?”

Tess blinked, and the sun-kissed memory disappeared behind familiar clouds.

“I’m so sorry,” Tess said. “For a second there, just hearing you, I was back at the lake.”

“Well, I am back at the lake.” Leslie laughed, the sound so much a part of her past Tess’s heart ached. “Would you believe it?” Leslie paused. “Where are you?”

“At the farm—where I’ve always been.”

The line went silent for a moment, and Tess realized that more than just a span of years separated them. Remembered how she’d left, and what she’d left unsaid. “I’m sorry I disappeared—I wanted to call, wanted to tell you, but I—”