Carrie Weaver - The Road To Echo Point

Vi grunted, noncommital.

Was she even conscious?

She poured herself a hefty cup of coffee and gulped down a good third of it. The woman might have nerves of steel, but her esophagus had to be cast iron. She closed her eyes and sighed with bliss.

“Cream, sugar?”

“Uh-uh.”

He raised an eyebrow. Impressive.

“Sorry about all the noise last night.”

She waved a hand and grunted as she shuffled past him, back the way she had come.

It was at least half an hour before she returned for her second cup. This time there was a little life in her step. And the light of battle in her eyes.

She poured another healthy cup and slurped away.

He waited. He was good at that. A fight was coming, he was sure of it. Couldn’t really blame her—who would voluntarily stay here? It was different for him. This was his promise to keep, not hers.

He’d hoped things would be different. Hoped her arrival would come on a good day. When she’d fall under Daisy’s charm before she realized what she was getting into. And maybe, just maybe, she’d stick with them until Annabelle could get around under her own steam.

Ian shook his head, amazed at his own gullibility. He could dream, couldn’t he?

At best, she’d last a couple weeks. He needed to make sure they got at least that. But how? He couldn’t hold her by force. Maybe appeal to her humanity?

One look at her straight spine and hard gaze and he gave up on empathy. The woman didn’t have much. Nope, he’d have to appeal to her sense of self-preservation.

“Where’s the dog?” a gravelly voice asked. He did a double take and, sure enough, the words seemed to have come from her. Maybe her esophagus wasn’t indestructible after all.

“I carried her out back. There’s a fenced yard, lots of shade. It’s the place where she knows she’s off duty. Fresh air and sunshine’ll do her good.”

“The faster she heals, the better. Where’s…um… Daisy?”

“Senior center. You’ll learn her schedule pretty fast.”

Vi crossed her arms over her chest. “I won’t be here long enough to learn schedules. I’m sorry about your situation, but I’m not the right person for the job. I’ll figure out another way to make this up to you.”

Ian bit back an oath and reminded himself that this woman had no way of knowing just how precarious the situation was. And how few options he had. “Whether you think you’re right for the job or not, you’re all I’ve got. The only way you can ‘make this up to me’ is to commit to being here at least a month.”

She met his gaze. “I’m leaving. Today. I don’t care how much it costs—I’ll hire a nurse or something. Someone who has experience with this kind of thing.”

“The hell you will. You’ve seen what happens when someone new is introduced into Daisy’s environment. We’re over the worst of it, and she’ll adjust to you. Nurses work in shifts. It would be constant upheaval. No way.”

“Come on, be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable.” Ian clenched his jaws and vowed not to wrap his hands around Vi’s throat. “You need to step up to the plate and take responsibility for what you’ve done.”

“I’ve taken responsibility all right. I’m here, aren’t I? I simply think there has to be an alternative to my staying here. One that will be better for everyone.”

“Believe me, there’s no alternative. Even if Daisy would accept several nurses in the house, I doubt you could get them to promise to stay out here for the duration. I have no intention of subjecting my mother to constant change.”

Vi’s eyes flashed with panic, then anger. “There has to be another way. I’ll work something out with the judge. Something we can all live with.”

“Yeah, Ralph seemed real persuaded with your arguments the other day.”

“I’ll hire an attorney.”

He checked out a speck of dirt under his fingernails. Never let ’em see you sweat. Good strategy on the football field, even better in life.

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said? Still need that job of yours? Remember, no Daisy, no driver’s license. No license, no job. That would be a shame.” He made a tsk-tsking sound.

Her chin came up, her full lips compressed into a line. “A good attorney will make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“So you think your lawyer’ll make it all go away? Pull the proper strings?”

“That’s the way the world works.”

“Yeah, unfortunately you’re right,” he conceded. “But, see, Judge Tanner is more than just an old coot playing at law. He’s part of one of the oldest ranching families in Arizona. This is kind of a…retirement job.”

“Retirement job?” She nibbled on her lower lip. Nice teeth. He had her now.

“Sure. He was a Superior Court Judge till his heart attack about ten years ago. Then he decided to come home to Echo Point, where he could make the rules and play the game his way. Eccentric, I think they call it. But he’s got more pull than any lawyer you could hire. And you know what? He’s been Daisy’s…uh, admirer for most of those ten years.”

“Oh.”

She pulled her robe more closely around her. It was almost disappointing to see the light of victory fade from her eyes. A good challenge always revved up his competitive juices. But not this time. The risk was too great.

“Hey, look, truth is, sometimes I don’t want to be here. But Daisy needs me. And she needs you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy. Not you, your job, or anything else is going to get in the way of that. Now it’s time to set a few ground rules. About your vocabulary—”

“She’s your responsibility, not mine.”

It was true, too true. His debt, his responsibility. All the crap he’d put his mom through—the cops dragging him home in the middle of the night, the petty theft, the scum he’d hung out with. That, on top of his dad’s death.

Yeah, he owed her. Big time. And he’d promised to keep her safe, in her own home. And in one split second, this she-devil had almost destroyed the house of cards he’d built. Annabelle was the only thing standing between Daisy and a nursing home. He couldn’t do it alone, much as he wanted to.

No, Vi was the only solution. Otherwise, he’d have to break a string of promises. And he didn’t break promises.

“Lady, you did the crime, you do the time. You can consider her your responsibility, too. For the next month treat her as if she were your own mother.”

VI ABSORBED Ian’s statement, but couldn’t comprehend it. She wasn’t quite sure how normal people treated their mothers. Maria Davis Peralta had kept her sanity, Vi supposed, by cocooning herself in denial. Denial that their life was a nightmare, and half the time, denial that she had any children at all. It was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. That is, until Patrick died. Then she was the grieving mother, so broken-hearted she had to divorce her husband, leave her two daughters, remarry and move to San Diego.

So when Ian instructed her to treat Daisy like her own mother, it exposed a raw nerve she refused to explore. Instead, she propped her fists on her hips and challenged, “Not only am I to keep the lady from wandering off and getting herself killed, but you want me to be all warm and fuzzy and treat her like family? You’ve got the wrong woman, buddy. If she were my mother, I’d put her some place where she could receive appropriate care.”

She watched her statement sink in. Ian’s eyes were shadowed for a moment. Guilt? Uncertainty? It was gone before she could identify it. Replaced by white-hot anger.

Vi backed away until her hips met the kitchen counter. No escape. She lifted her chin and waited. But the raw frustration in his face made her squinch her eyes shut.