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  A ringing phone interrupted the wonderment. When she went in to answer it, she closed the door and locked it.

  “Are you in for the night?”

  “I am,” Annie said, happy to hear Jake’s voice.

  “How’s Beulah?”

  “Ready to come home, but the doctors are saying Wednesday or Thursday. We’ll be lucky to keep her in there long enough for the house to get painted.”

  “I’ll help on Saturday if they are still painting.

  “I’m hoping they’ll be finished by then. And won’t you have Camille here?” Annie asked.

  “One of her staff is out sick and she has to help with a convention coming in this weekend. She’ll come in Monday and we’re both taking vacation next week to be here.”

  “Good,” Annie said. “We’ll have time to get to know her.

  “She’s a great girl, Annie. I think you’ll like her.”

  “If you like her, I know I will,” she said.

  “Do you mind staying there by yourself? You know you can stay with Mom.”

  “I’ll be fine here. I know where the shotgun is,” she said, and laughed.

  “But do you know how to use it?” he asked in a serious tone.

  “You mean waving it around won’t be enough?” she said.

  “That’s another thing we’ll do this summer. You need to know how to use a gun,” he said, before wishing her a good night and hanging up.

  After turning out the lights and plodding upstairs, Annie washed her face and put on her pajamas. Under the comfort of a frayed quilt, she dropped into a sound sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was not until the morning, with the stillness of a house holding only one spirit, that Annie realized how much she would miss her grandmother if she never came home. The power of the thought forced her to call the hospital room, early as it was, and check on her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice sounding a little groggy. “Didn’t get much sleep last night what with all the vitals, pills and shift changes. I’ll rest today.”

  “Evelyn said she would be there after lunch. If you think of anything you want her to bring you from here, call me.”

  “I’d love a decent cup of coffee. It’s weak as water up here. If she’s not coming until afternoon, a strong glass of iced tea might be as good.”

  “Huh, sounds like you’ve grown accustomed to my good coffee,” Annie said.

  “I reckon you’ve spoiled me.”

  The quiet morning was soon broken by the arrival of a pickup truck, doors slamming and the screech of metal as a ladder unfolded.

  “Would y’all like some coffee?” Annie leaned out the front door, hearing the painters, but not seeing them.

  “We brought a thermos, but thank you just the same,” a voice said from above.

  After Annie had eaten her breakfast, she went out the front door to see the progress. A man was perched on a ladder, priming the top of the roof gable. The other was painting from the ground, to the right of the porch. The names and faces were familiar, probably from years ago rather than her recent visits, so introductions seemed trivial.

  “The back door is open, so help yourselves. There’s a fresh pot of coffee and some cold water in the refrigerator. We really appreciate this.”

  The man painting in the gable turned slightly, his paintbrush suspended in the air. “We’re only paying back. Beulah brought me soups and casseroles when my wife was sick.”

  From under the wide brim of a tobacco warehouse cap, the other man said, “She tended to my mother up till the day she died. We’ve searched high and low for a way to pay her back. This is the first chance we’ve had.”

  A warm feeling of pride spread over her. “She’ll be so pleased!”

  Once inside the house, Annie set about her work at breakneck speed. There was much to do while her grandmother was gone. She wanted everything to be perfect for her return.

  Annie washed curtains, changed sheets and helped Evelyn with lunch, remembering to tell her about Beulah’s request for tea. They fed Jim and Elbert, stuffing them full of Evelyn’s butter fried chicken and coconut pie.

  That afternoon, Annie was cleaning the glass shades on the dining room chandelier when Woody stopped by.

  “Better water your garden tonight. We’re in a dry spell, and those seeds you planted need some water to grow,” Woody said, his bridge wobbling below his upper lip.

  “Isn’t that a waste of water?”

  “Naw, better go ahead and water tonight when the ground holds the moisture. Now, I know that Jake has got some newfangled ideas on farming, but you’d better listen to somebody that’s got dried mud on their boots. Wanna go for a ride tomorrow afternoon?” Woody asked.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got some projects to finish before I bring Grandma home. Maybe another time?”

  “Oh, okay, sure thing,” Woody said. “Maybe a Sunday afternoon trail ride.”

  He seemed disappointed at her response, and Annie wondered if her grandmother was right after all. Maybe Woody had more in mind than friendship. She’d have to set that straight soon and let him know she was done with dating. Period.

  That evening, she attached the water hose to a sprinkler she found in the equipment shed and turned on the water. She left it on while she bathed so it would get a good soaking.

  Evelyn called to report Beulah had sent her home early, saying she was fine. “No sense in both of us eating alone. Why don’t you come over here? Nothing fancy.”

  Over pasta and salad, Evelyn shared her excitement about Jake’s upcoming visit.

  “He’ll be home in time for dinner Friday night and is staying for two weeks. Camille will be here for a few days next week, but has to leave on Thursday for a meeting. He’s hoping she’ll come back for part of the next week as well.”

  “You’ll get to know her much better,” Annie said.

  “I hope she likes me,” Evelyn said in a rare display of vulnerability.

  “Evelyn, you would be the best mother-in-law! She’ll love you,” Annie said. She bit into the pasta and savored the pungent flavors. “Is this pesto sauce?”

  “Homemade from my own basil. I freeze it and use it year-round.” Evelyn glowed at the compliment.

  “I haven’t had anything like it since leaving New York. I should add some basil plants to Grandma’s garden.”

  “Better do it before she gets home.” Evelyn spoke in a comical stage whisper. “If there’s any available space left, she’ll want to plant green beans.”

  Annie laughed. “You’re right. We ran out of seeds on the last row, and she fretted about the wasted space.”

  “I don’t know how Beulah has managed it these last few years. She can’t seem to scale down her garden, even when she knows she should. It’s that Depression-era mentality, feeling the need to store away lots of food and money for hard times. I’ll bet if you go down into the cellar, she’s got canned goods stored there from several summers ago. We should all probably be more like her.”

  After they cleared the supper dishes away, Evelyn filled the coffee maker with water and added grounds to the gold filter.

  While they waited for it to brew, Annie said, “Do you mind if I use your computer? I’d like to look up a few things.”

  “Of course, dear. You know we leave the back door unlocked, so anytime you need to use it, come on over. You don’t have to ask.”

  Evelyn had turned the small maid’s room just off the kitchen into an office, with a large walnut desk, a computer, printer and filing cabinets. A recent framed picture of Jake sat on the desk. Next to it was a picture of Evelyn, Charlie and Jake taken at Jake’s college graduation. Another showed Evelyn with her younger sister, Dixie, a Bohemian opposite of Evelyn.

  After deleting all the junk in her e-mail account, she was left with a few updates from friends but no communication from Beverly Enlo. Chickened out, Annie figured. After all, Janice delivered the news and the voided rent check was returned. What else could she say?r />
  After logging off her e-mail, she typed “Stella Hawkins” into a search engine. Pages of results came up. After ten pages, she stopped looking. She couldn’t find anyone by that name who was an author. Maybe it was a first book, or possibly a pen name. On the other hand, there was no one by that name associated with a criminal record that she could see.

  “Coffee’s ready if you want some,” Evelyn called from the kitchen.

  Annie pushed away from the desk with another glance at Jake’s picture.

  “There’s a nice picture of Jake in here. Where was it taken?”

  “Camille’s father recommended him for a charity board position and they took professional pictures for their annual report. He would never have a picture like that made on his own, so it was nice when he had a copy sent to me.”

  “So, how serious is he with Camille?” Annie asked as Evelyn poured the coffee.

  “Let’s go out on the porch. We can watch the sunset from the back.”

  The screen door squeaked as Evelyn pushed it open. They settled into two comfortable patio chairs with bright floral cushions.

  “Jake has great respect for Camille’s dad. Her brother is one of his good friends and Jake’s been embraced by her family while he was grieving his own father. Sometimes it’s hard to separate those feelings.”

  “So you think what he feels for Camille is more of a corporate feeling?” Annie took a sip of the rich coffee.

  “I guess that’s one way to put it. Time will tell. I think bringing her down here will be good for him. He needs to see her in his own environment, especially if he is thinking of moving back.”

  Evelyn held her cup close to her face and stared at the landscape before her. The sun peaked behind the rolling hills, casting pinks, purples and silver against the horizon.

  “I must say, I would love for him to come back,” she continued, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Charlie would have loved it too. But I don’t want to say too much. It has to be his decision.”

  “My sense is that is what he wants, but he is trying to fairly weigh all the options. Either way, I think he wants to spend more time down here even if he stays in Cincinnati,” Annie said. “So you’ll likely see more of him one way or the other.”

  Evelyn smiled. “And I hope more of you too.”

  Annie went to bed early, so when the phone rang at eleven, she thought it was the middle of the night.

  “Annie Taylor?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  “This is Dr. Wylie. Your grandmother had a small setback this evening. We think everything is fine now, but we’ve moved her to ICU to keep a close watch.”

  Annie was wide awake. “ICU? What happened?”

  “There was a slight change in the rhythm of her heart. It’s likely caused by one of her medications, but as a precaution we want to keep a closer watch for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Annie said, jumping out of bed and looking for her clothes.

  “Why don’t you wait until morning? She’s resting well now but I’m sure she’ll want to see you then.”

  Annie’s mind raced. “Are you sure. I can be there in just a few minutes. You’re sure she’s okay?”

  “I think she’ll be fine. I wanted to call so that when you do come in the morning, you would understand why we moved her.”

  Annie couldn’t sleep after the phone call, so she got up to make a pot of chamomile tea. After putting on the kettle, she turned on the faucet and washed a dirty glass while her mind worked through the information. She had taken for granted that once Beulah made it through the surgery, all would be fine. But there were no guarantees in life. Her grandmother had said it herself a hundred times.

  After turning off the faucet, she still heard water running. In the past few weeks, she had grown used to the sounds of the house, but she didn’t remember this one. She turned on the back porch light and went outside to see if the sound was louder. There was a pitter-pattering, as if it were raining. The heavens were clear. The sky was full of stars.

  The sprinkler! Annie ran to turn off the spigot, not giving a thought to her bare feet and what might be in the tall grass. With a heavy heart, she surveyed the damage illuminated by the stock barn’s security light. Puddles of water stood in every low place in the garden.

  I’ve ruined her garden, she thought. Of all the things she could mess up, it had to be this.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beulah pushed herself up in the bed and tried to get more comfortable without moving her leg. The growling coming from the bed on the other side of the room was near deafening. She was surprised a small, elderly woman could snore loud enough to vibrate the water glass on her tray.

  What did hospital people think, calling this type of room “semi-private” when there was no privacy to it? A mere piece of shiny polyester fabric hung between her and this roaring bear with whom she was doomed to share the night.

  At least all that ICU rigmarole was behind her. It ended up being a little reaction to her medication, that was all. Just another excuse for the hospital to make a little more money out of the whole deal, is what she thought, or avoid some kind of liability. Anyway, it had all been fine. The worst part was she couldn’t get any sleep.

  A snort from her roommate’s bed caused Beulah to jump nearly out of her skin. There ought to be a noise ordinance in the hospital. It seemed to her there was a competition on who could make the most noise, what with the nurses chattering like magpies at their station, the public address system blaring a lullaby every time a baby was delivered, and equipment rolling in and out of the rooms, banging into beds and carts as they went. They had put her on the old people’s floor, that was obvious, and Beulah resented that not a little, what with all the yelping and hollering that went on in the other patient rooms. Beulah couldn’t wait to get home.

  She never had liked spending a night away from home, even on the few vacations she had taken in her life. How Annie flitted from one hotel to the other in her years of flying, Beulah could never understand. She reckoned you had to get used to it when you were young. Beulah had always been a homebody, and that was a fact. She liked knowing what her bed was going to feel like when she got into it at night, and she liked waking up in her own house.

  “Mrs. Campbell, how are you?”

  Beulah looked up to see a pretty nurse with a blond ponytail and a belly protruding from under her blue uniform. There was something familiar about the face, the small, upturned nose, and the blue eyes.

  “All right, and you?”

  “You don’t recognize me, do you?” The ponytail swung as the nurse reached over the bed for the blood pressure cuff, attached by a black coil cord to the wall.

  “You do look familiar, but I can’t place you,” Beulah said, studying the girl’s face.

  “I’m Sandy Sallee, except now I’m a Turner. I cheered with Annie at Somerville High.” She wrapped Beulah’s arm in the cuff. “I saw your name on the chart up front, and when I saw you were from Somerville, I knew you had to be Annie’s grandmother.”

  “Now I remember. Your daddy is Everett Sallee from over on Cedar Hill.” Beulah remembered Sandy. She was one of the pack of girls Annie ran around with after she got her driver’s license.

  “How’s Annie doing? She got any kids yet?” Sandy hit a button and waited.

  “No, she’s not married.” Beulah watched the cuff slowly expand and squeeze her arm.

  “You’re kidding! I thought she’d have a litter by now. I’m on my third and due any day!” Sandy rubbed her stomach and turned sideways, giving Beulah the full view of the last days in her third trimester.

  “I see,” Beulah said, not caring one bit for the younger generation’s urge to show their swollen bellies in every conceivable way.

  Sandy stuck a thermometer in her mouth. “I thought Annie would marry Brett, as crazy as they were about each other. I guess you never know.” The thermometer beeped and Sandy pulled it out. “Norm
al, and so was your blood pressure.” She threw away the sanitary wrap and put the thermometer back in her pocket. “Give her my best, Mrs. Campbell, and if you need anything, just ask for me. I’m on shift until seven tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you, Sandy,” Beulah called as the young woman left the room. Well, it helped to know someone. It might get her a quicker trip to the bathroom if necessary.

  Of all the things to ponder in the hospital, why did she have to be reminded of Annie’s high school boyfriend, Brett Bradshaw. Those Bradshaws were good-looking as Hollywood actors, but a bad lot, heavy into drinking, and some said, drugs. She tried to warn Annie away from him, but Beulah saw right quick Annie wasn’t hearing any of it.

  When the warnings didn’t take, she and Fred talked about it and decided not to say anything else for fear of pushing her in his direction. Looking back on Jo Anne’s situation, their dislike for Ed might have made Jo Anne more set on seeing him, but who knew? All they could do was the best they knew how at the time.

  Instead, she bit her tongue when Annie talked about Brett and brought him around. She had been pleasant to the boy, fed him meals, soda pop and chips. Annie had dated him until they went to college. He finally broke it off with her in college, and Beulah was never so relieved. Better heartbreak now than later, when she was saddled with little children.

  Beulah fiddled with the plastic bracelet on her left hand. Come to think of it, that was about when Annie and Jake quit being so close. When Brett Bradshaw entered the picture, everything between Annie and Jake changed. Jake found a girlfriend after that, and even though the families still got together for special occasions, it wasn’t like before when the kids were younger.

  It was a disappointment for both her and Fred and the Wilders because Jake’s personality suited Annie. It reminded Beulah of how Fred had balanced her out. Annie tended to be high-strung, a little like the thoroughbreds Fred used to trade for from time to time, but Jake was easygoing and cool as a cucumber. Once when the kids were eleven or twelve, Annie flew into the house all in a dither. “Jake’s arm, it’s broken,” she had said, barely able to get the words out. Jake trailed behind, holding his arm and studying the strange angle as if he were looking at it under a microscope. Of course, he might have been in a bit of shock, but that incident had impressed Beulah. He didn’t cry or complain one bit, at least as long as he was in her care.