Emilie Richards - One Mountain Away

Right now all she wanted was to put the bags in the refrigerator without even bothering to unpack them and fall asleep in her bedroom, fully clothed. She was so tired every cell in her body had shriveled from fatigue.

She didn’t bother with the garage. She pulled into the stone-paved parking area hidden behind a bower of English ivy and turned off the engine.

“Okay, now you’re getting out,” she said out loud, then forced herself to follow her own orders.

Inside, she put away the groceries and told herself it was good to be home. But once she’d made herself a cup of hot tea and a slice of toast, she lay exhausted on the living room sofa, staring at the ceiling. In the end, as the grandfather clock tolled ten, she rose, smoothed wrinkles from her clothes, closed the front door behind her and headed back to Cuppa.

After being forced to park several blocks away on a side street, she stood outside the restaurant once more. She doubted Harmony Stoddard would appreciate reacquainting herself with a witness to her unfortunate dinner-shift encounter, but Charlotte wanted to be certain that the bad-tempered man hadn’t complained. And if someone else had spoken to the manager, the mother at the next table, perhaps, or another server, Charlotte wanted to be sure Harmony wasn’t blamed for something that was certainly not her fault.

Inside, the hostess stand was empty. Farther in a few people sipped coffee, but one of them was packing up her computer. A muscular middle-age man in one of Cuppa’s signature shirts stopped Charlotte as she continued toward the back.

“We’re closing,” he said. “Did you need something?”

“By any chance are you the manager?”

“She went home early. I’m in charge.”

“I was here earlier. I was sitting in the back, and a child at the next table slammed into my server and sent salad flying all over a man at another table. I just wanted to be sure the server didn’t get into trouble. I was right there, and it was absolutely not her fault.”

He looked surprised. “You came all the way back to tell us that?”

“And to make sure she’s okay.” She decided to level. “The man behaved badly. He didn’t apologize. I thought somebody ought to.”

“You know how rare that would be?” He ran his hand through short-cropped hair. “Who was it? Harmony?”

“Uh-huh.” She wondered how he knew.

His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “She had a bad night. I didn’t know why.”

“Is she here? Maybe I could make it a better one.”

“She left about half an hour ago, after she finished her shift.”

Charlotte felt a pang of regret. “Maybe I could write her a note?”

“Sure. Just leave it on the coffee bar. I’ll make sure she gets it.”

Charlotte wandered over and sat on a stool. She penned a few lines on a sheet of notebook paper and signed it. Then, on a whim, she added her business card and circled her cell phone number, although she doubted the young woman would call.

With nothing else to do she left the note and trudged to her car. The air was cool, and while the street wasn’t deserted, she felt utterly alone. On the street, in the city, on good old Mother Earth. She thought of the memorial service where she had not been welcome. She thought of the wary expression in her own minister’s eyes.

She thought of her granddaughter climbing to the top of a jungle gym, unaware that her grandmother was sitting just yards away watching her.

She slowed her pace. She had nowhere to go except home, and nothing to do there but think.

If she hadn’t slowed she wouldn’t have glanced into the car parked in front of her. Under the light of a streetlamp the sedan looked like something General Motors had long since discontinued. Rust etched wheel hubs. The rear door had been badly dented and someone—clearly not a professional—had tried to hammer it back into shape. Most important, as Charlotte drew even with the car, what she saw inside made her stop and stare.

The woman in the backseat, head pillowed on a blanket and another blanket drawn up around her, was all too familiar.

Charlotte debated what to do. She’d come to find Harmony Stoddard, but not like this. Before she could make herself continue along the sidewalk, Harmony’s eyes opened, and the two women stared at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said, since only a pane of glass separated them. She started forward, then she stopped and went back. “Are you okay?”

Harmony was sitting up now, and she wiped her eyes before she moved over to the door and opened it, swinging her long legs over the side to face Charlotte.

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t sound angry.

“Well, right now I’m on my way to my car, but I was just at Cuppa to find you. I wanted to apologize. That man behaved so badly, and I wanted to be sure you weren’t in trouble for anything he did or said.”

Tears glistened on Harmony’s cheeks, and she rubbed them away with her fist before she spoke. Charlotte was reminded of her daughter as a toddler. Taylor had always done exactly that. Taylor, the daughter she hadn’t spoken to for almost eleven years.

“You didn’t have to come back. It was okay.” Harmony got out of the car and stood with her back to it.

“It wasn’t okay.” Charlotte debated what to do or say next. Part of her thought she ought to continue to her car. But suddenly the conversation wasn’t about a stranger’s bad manners anymore. It was about so many other things.

“You’re not okay,” she said. “Are you sleeping in your car tonight?”

“No…” Harmony bit her lip. “Not for the whole night, anyway.”

“Just part of it?”

“I’m…I’m staying with a friend.”

“You can’t get in? You don’t have a key?”

“That’s not it.” The young woman seemed to debate with herself. “She’s got a date. I don’t want to be there when…”

Charlotte understood. “Oh, right, I see.” She hesitated. “It’s a small place, I guess?”

“Like a closet, and I’m crashing on her sofa until I can find something better. I—” She shook her head.

“You’ve been there awhile?”

“You don’t want to hear all this.” Harmony smiled a watery smile. “This isn’t your problem, right?”

“Absolutely not. Not one bit.” Charlotte smiled, too. “So tell me, anyway.”

Harmony started to cry. Charlotte wasn’t sure what to do, but before she could decide, she’d put her arms around the girl and pulled her close.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked, as Harmony, bending at the waist, sobbed against her neck. She felt the girl’s shoulders hunch in answer.

“Will your car be okay here tonight?” Charlotte asked, making a decision.

“I…I guess. But I don’t—”

“You’re coming home with me, and don’t worry, you can call your friend and tell her where you are. You’ll be safe. I’m not a serial killer.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

Charlotte was afraid she did. She was afraid no one needed to do it more.

Chapter Six

LIVING IN ASHEVILLE was a trade-off for Taylor Martin. At first, after Maddie’s problematic birth, the city of Taylor’s own birth was the only place she could live. Without her father’s help, both financial and emotional, she would never have been able to support herself and care for her daughter.

Jeremy’s parents, who also lived in town, had helped, as well, and despite Taylor’s disdain for her daughter’s father, she couldn’t dislike the senior Larsens. From the beginning they had stepped up to the plate, insisting that Jeremy acknowledge the baby, then offering financial support. After Maddie’s birth they had put their son through college, or tried to, but they had also made certain Jeremy understood that once he was earning a living, they expected him to take over the child support payments.