Нора Робертс - Chasing Fire

“I don’t know if it’s... My father’s?”

“I ran into Lucas and his lady friend at the fireworks, and again a couple days ago at the nursery. She was helping him pick out some plants.”

“Plants? You’re talking about my father? Lucas black-thumb Tripp?”

“One and the same.” As she spoke, Marg cut a huge slice of Black Forest cake. “Ella’s helping him put in a flower bed. A little one to start. He was looking at arbors.”

“Arbors? You mean the...” Rowan drew an arch with her forefingers. “Come on. Dad’s gardening skills start and stop with mowing the lawn.”

“Things change.” She set the cake and a tall glass of milk in front of Rowan. “As they should or we all just stand in the same place. It’s good to see him lit up about something that doesn’t involve a parachute or an engine. You ought to be happy about that, Rowan, especially since there’s a lot of lights dimming around here right now.”

“I just don’t know, that’s all. What’s wrong with standing in the same place if it’s a good place?”

“Even a good place gets to be a rut, especially if you’re standing in it alone. Honey, alone and lonely share the same root. Eat your cake.”

“I don’t see how Dad could be lonely. He’s always got so much going on. He has so many friends.”

“And nobody there when he turns off the lights—until recently. If you can’t see how much happier he is since Ella, then you’re not paying attention.”

Rowan searched around for a response, then noticed Marg’s face when the cook turned away to wash her herbs in the sink. Obviously she hadn’t been paying attention here, Rowan realized, or she’d have seen the sadness.

“What’s wrong, Marg?”

“Oh, just tough times. Tougher for some. I know you’d probably be fine if Leo Brakeman wasn’t seen or heard from again. And I don’t blame you a bit for it. But it’s beating down on Irene.”

“If he comes back, or they find him, he’ll probably go to prison. I don’t know if that’s better for her.”

“Knowing’s always better. In the meanwhile, she had to take on another job as her pay from the school isn’t enough to cover the bills. Especially since she leveraged the house for his bail. And taking on the work, she can’t see to the baby.”

“Can’t her family help her through it?”

“Not enough, I guess. It’s the money, but it’s also the time, the energy, the wherewithal. The last time I saw her, she looked worn to the nub. She’s ready to give up, and I don’t know how much longer she can hold out.”

“I’m sorry, Marg. Really. We could take up a collection. I guess it wouldn’t be more than a finger in the dike for a bit, but the baby’s Jim’s. Everybody’d do what they could.”

“Honestly, Ro, I don’t think she’d accept it. On top of it all, that woman’s shamed down to the root of her soul. What her husband and her daughter did here, that weighs on her. I don’t think she could take money from us. I’ve known Irene since we were girls, and she could hardly look at me. That breaks my heart.”

Rowan rose, cut another, smaller slice of cake, poured another glass of milk. “You sit down. Eat some cake. We’ll fix it,” she added. “There’s always a way to fix something if you keep at it long enough.”

“I like to think so, but I don’t know how much long enough Irene’s got left.”

When Ella came back downstairs, Irene continued to sit on the couch, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Deliberately Ella fixed an easy smile on her face.

“She’s down. I swear that’s the sweetest baby, Irene. Just so sunny and bright.” She didn’t mention the time she’d spent folding and putting away the laundry in the basket by the crib, or the disarray she’d noticed in Irene’s usually tidy home.

“She makes me want more grandbabies,” Ella went on, determinedly cheerful. “I’m going to go make us some tea.”

“The kitchen’s a mess. I don’t know if I even have any tea. I didn’t make it to the store.”

“I’ll go find out.”

Dishes piled in the sink of the little kitchen Ella always found cozy and charming. The near-empty cupboards, the sparsely filled refrigerator, clearly needed restocking.

That, at least, she could do.

She found a box of tea bags, filled the kettle. As she began filling the dishwasher, Irene shuffled in.

“I’m too tired to even be ashamed of the state of my own kitchen, or to see you doing my dishes.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you’d insult our friendship if you were.”

“I used to have pride in my home, but it’s not really my home now. It’s the bank’s. It’s just a place to live now, until it’s not.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to get through this. You’re just worn out. Why don’t you let me take the baby for a day or two, give yourself a chance to catch your breath? You know I’d love it. Then we could sit down, and if you’d let me, we could go over your financial situation, see if there’s anything—”

She broke off when she turned to see tears rolling down Irene’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Abandoning the dishes, she hurried over to wrap Irene in her arms.

“I can’t do it, Ella. I just can’t. I’ve got no fight left. No heart.”

“You’re just so tired.”

“I am. I am tired. The baby’s teething, and when she’s fretful in the night, I lie there wishing she’d just stop. Just be quiet, give me some peace. I’m passing her off to anybody who’ll take her for a few hours while I work, and even with the extra work, I’m not going to make the house payments, unless I let something else go.”

“Let me help you.”

“Help me what? Pay my bills, raise my grandchild, keep my house?” Even the hard words held no life. “For how long, Ella? Until Leo gets back, if he comes back? Until he gets out of prison, if he goes to prison?”

“With whatever you need to get you through this, Irene.”

“I know you mean well, but I don’t see getting through. I wanted to believe him. He’s my husband, and I wanted to believe him when he told me he didn’t do any of it.”

With nothing to say, Ella kept silent while Irene looked around the room.

“Now he’s left me like this, left me alone, and taking money I need out of the ATM on the way gone. What do I believe now?”

“Sit down here at the table. Tea’s a small thing, but it’s something.”

Irene sat, looked out the window at the yard she’d once loved to putter in. The yard her husband had used to escape, to run from her.

“I know what people are saying, even though it doesn’t come out of their mouths in my hearing. Leo killed Reverend Latterly, and if he killed him, he must’ve killed Dolly. His own flesh and blood.”

“People say and think a lot of hard things, Irene.”

The bones in Irene’s face stood out too harshly under skin aged a decade in two short months. “I’m one of them now. I may not be ready to say it, but I think it. I think how he and Dolly used to fight, shouting at each other, saying awful things. Still... he loved her. I know that.”

She stared down at the tea Ella put in front of her. “Maybe loved her too much. Maybe more than I did. So it cut more, the things she’d do and say. It cut him more than me. Love can turn, can’t it? It can turn into something dark in a minute’s time.”

“I don’t know the answers there. But I do know that you can’t find them in despair. I think the best thing for you now is to concentrate on the baby and yourself, to do what you have to do to make the best life you can make for the two of you, until you have those answers.”

“That’s what I’m doing. I called Mrs. Brayner this morning before I went into work. Shiloh’s other grandmother. She and her husband are going to drive out from Nebraska, and they’ll take Shiloh back with them.”