Her Forever Dreams Page 3

  “I’m sorry, Andrew. You know I always feel as if I’m forgetting something when I close this place up.”

  “It’s not that. You just hate leaving here knowing you won’t come back until spring. You love this place; you always have, and I know it’s hard for you to leave it behind.”

  She smiled at her six-foot-two, twenty-three-year-old son. “You’re right, of course. I do hate leaving. It was wonderful being here for Thanksgiving.”

  “Mom, we’re always here for Thanksgiving.” He slid his arms around his mother’s shoulders. “But we both know that holidays can’t last forever. The company needs you, especially now that it’s so close to Christmas. I bet they’re having a whopping Black Friday shopping day at the store and I know you want to get there and check the receipts before closing. And you know I have a gig tonight.”

  “That’s another thing I can’t seem to grasp. My son, the country singer. I’ll never know what made you go into that profession.”

  “You know I always wanted to sing. Even as a kid in church, I wanted to sing the loudest and the longest of everyone.”

  “How well I know.” She followed him on to the front porch and turned to lock the door, checking it twice to be sure the deadbolt caught. “Do you remember the time you were in the Easter pageant? You were about five and you sang a duet with the little neighbor girl. When you finished, you put your hands on your hips and shouted, ‘I out-sung her, like you told me to, Dad,’ and made your dad want to crawl under the pew.”

  He chuckled. “I do remember. I also remember the lecture I got on the way home. You told me to always respect others and if I did better than they did, keep it to myself and be nice and not brag.”

  “Yes, and you told me it was hard to keep it to yourself because it made you happy to do the best. You said your happy had to come out.”

  He opened the car door and ushered his mother inside the passenger side. When he got in the driver’s seat, he said, “I guess I still like to do my best, but now I realize I can’t do it all on my own.” He started the car. “I could’ve never kept Dad’s business going the way you have. What time I’ve spent there shows me how hard it is.”

  “And you’re sure you want to give up the business and run around the country singing those country songs?”

  “I’m sure.” He pulled out of the crushed shell driveway and headed toward the bridge to the mainland. “You know it’s been a dream of mine ever since you took me to that George Strait concert.”

  She laughed. “Your Dad fussed at me and said no matter how much I liked Mr. Strait, it was no good reason to corrupt our boy.”

  “Then he went out and bought me a guitar.”

  “I’m glad you remember the good things about him, Andrew. I wish he’d lived to see you all grown up. He would’ve been as proud of you as I am.”

  “He was always as good to me as if he’d been my birth father, Mom. I’m so glad we had him as long as we did.”

  “I am, too.”

  They rode for a long distance in silence. Andrew flipped the radio to a country station and they listened to the stories the songs told – some happy, some not so happy, and a few that were downright sad.

  After a while, Andrew turned to his mother. “Mom, I want to ask you something that has been on my mind for a long time.”

  “Of course, son. What is it?”

  “I know I was only a little boy when you and Dad got married and you were still young. Why didn’t you have more children?”

  “We would’ve liked to have had more children, honey, but we couldn’t. Your dad told me before we married that he could never be a biological father to a child, but he swore he’d always love you as if you were his own. I believed him, and when we became a family, I realized my belief was well-founded. I don’t think you ever thought you were less than his son.”

  “I questioned him once when I was in my teens. I asked him if he knew who my real father was. He talked freely to me about it and told me he never met the man, but you had cared for him a great deal. Dad said he was grateful to him for giving me life. I remember the most impressive thing he said to me was that he didn’t have to be at the conception to be my father. I never questioned his love after that, and I never asked again who my real father was.”

  “In a way, Woodrow Singleton was your real father, Andrew.”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “I know.”

  There was a long pause after this conversation. Andrew was thinking about how to approach his mother about his birth father. Now that Woodrow Singleton had been dead for six years, he saw no reason not to find out the facts about himself. He knew his dad had never been jealous of the man who’d impregnated his mother. He never held it over her head or belittled her in any way. There must have been a good reason for this. He wondered sometimes if they’d planned the birth so they would have a child.

  No, they couldn’t have. She had me for over two years before they married. Their marriage certificate proves that. My birth certificate lists my birth father as unknown and they changed my last name from her maiden one of Halsey to Singleton after Dad adopted me. I’ve even seen my legal adoption papers.

  He shook his head and looked at the gray sky. “I heard it was snowing in the mountains, Mom. Wonder if it’ll be snowing in the Piedmont when we get home.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He glanced at her. She had dozed off.

  He smiled to himself. You’re quite a woman, Mom. Darn good looking for your age, too. I wonder why you’ve showed no interest in a man since Dad died? I know there have been several after you. I hope it’s not because of me. I’m going to be gone a lot, and I’d feel better if you did have some nice gentleman in your life.

  He chuckled. Of course, I hope you don’t fall for Chet Roberts. I know he’d like to get his hands on Dad’s money and probably on you, too. But I don’t think I have to worry about that. You’re smart enough to see through him, besides you don’t want to end up with the same name as that of the movie star, Julia Roberts.

  Andrew’s mind continued to run in this vein for some time and probably would have continued if a deer hadn’t leaped from the pine forest and crossed the hood of the car. He slammed on the brakes, and his mother jumped awake.

  “What’s wrong?” She was excited.

  “Almost had a collision with a deer. Beautiful thing, but dangerous.” He looked at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I must have gone to sleep.”

  “You did.”

  “Why didn’t you awaken me?”

  “I knew you needed the rest, Mom. You cooked for almost the whole island yesterday. I know it took days of planning and look at the time it took to clean up and distribute food afterward. I knew you were tired.”

  “Pooh. You wanted to keep me asleep so I wouldn’t nag you about going on the road with your guitar.”

  “I know you better than you think I do. You’re not going to nag me. You’re not the type.”

  “Just because I don’t do it, doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” She stretched and yawned. “I see we’re about a third of the way home. How about stopping for something to drink? I think I’d like an iced tea. Sleeping makes me thirsty.”

  “Your wish is my command, as the saying goes, besides, that deer made me a little jumpy. I need something to drink, too. Watch for a fast food place and we’ll make a pit stop.”

  CHAPTER 4

  At 8:30 that morning Virgie left her room in Bed, Breakfast and More, went down the hall and tapped on Doreen’s door. When there was no answer, she shrugged because she figured her friend had gone ahead to breakfast. She knew Doreen liked to get up early and get her day started. Virgie, on the other hand, wasn’t an early riser. She didn’t want to get out of bed this morning and had to push herself to do it. Why she got up so early today, she didn’t know. No matter what Doreen said, she had no intention of leaving this place. Not today, anyway. The TV weather forecaster said the snow would continue throughout the day
and she wasn’t about to take a chance on wrecking her new Lexus.

  She turned toward the dining room and was surprised to see it empty. I know good and well Doreen isn’t still in bed. Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Lord, I wish that woman wasn’t so hard to keep up with.

  She headed for a table by the window. The snow was falling in big fluffy flakes. She didn’t think it was pretty. It was just one more thing that would make her joints hurt and keep her in the mountains longer than she wanted to stay. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from watching it.

  “Coffee, ma’am?”

  Virgie looked around at the smiling man. “Yes, and I want cream and sugar, too.” She didn’t smile back. She always figured these people were getting paid to wait on patrons, so she didn’t think it was worth wasting her time to be overly friendly.

  The waiter soon returned from the kitchen and served her a bowl of fresh fruit, which made her wonder where he got such a nice variety this time of year in this cold, dreary place. She didn’t comment on it though. Shortly, he followed it with an artistically arranged plate of French toast and crisp bacon. She almost told him to take it back and scramble her an egg, but she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. This was free, and he might charge her if she ordered an egg.

  As Virgie ate, she expected Doreen to come into the room at any moment, but her friend never appeared. Pushing back her plate, she got up and decided to look around the inn for her wandering companion.

  Doreen wasn’t in the public bathroom and the strange little desk clerk said she hadn’t seen her, either. Virgie wondered if the woman was lying or was just not smart enough to keep an eye on her guests. Not sure what to do next, she went to the large sitting room on the front of the house and looked out the window. Be just like her to be out in the yard building a snowman. She does so many crazy things, nothing surprises me. I wish I’d listened to her when she said she ought to come on this trip alone. She caught her breath and her eyes got big when she realized her car was not in the parking place where she’d left it.

  “Lord, have mercy,” she muttered. “Doreen has my keys, and I bet she has slipped off in this weather. She sure better not wreck my car.”

  Knowing there was nothing she could do but get mad about her friend’s absence, she turned back into the hall and went to her room. She sat on the lone chair beside the window and picked up the book she’d started. Every so often the thought, I knew I shouldn’t have given that crazy woman my car keys, interrupted her reading.

  •♥ •

  Snow continued to fall throughout the morning. By noon, there was almost four inches on the ground. The reports continued to predict more for the afternoon. Virgie continued to worry a little about Doreen, and a lot about her car. She also wondered if she should call anyone. But who could she call? If there had been an accident she knew the police would see her registration in the glove compartment. But if Doreen wasn’t able to tell them where she was, would they have any way to contact her at the inn?

  Feeling almost desperate, Virgie walked back to the desk in the entry of the large house. The badge on the desk clerk’s jacket announced her name as Carolyn Foley.

  Virgie didn’t believe in calling people in the service industry Mr. or Ms., so she said, “Carolyn, are you sure the lady who was with me didn’t leave a note or anything?”

  Carolyn smiled. “No, ma’am. I’ve been in here since seven this morning, and you’re the only guest I’ve seen because, in fact, you and your friend are the only guests we have today, because we don’t get many…”

  Virgie interrupted. “Did you notice if there was a car out front when you arrived this morning?”

  “I didn’t see one because I don’t drive here, because I come in the back, because that’s where I live and I look out when I get to the desk and I would’ve noticed if one had been there because I always check to see if we have a guest, and I didn’t think we did until you came by earlier because we don’t get many guests in this kind of weather because people don’t like to come to the mountains when it’s so cold unless they like to ski.”

  Seeing how Carolyn ran her sentences together, Virgie decided the young woman was slow in the head. She didn’t bother to wait until Carolyn finished saying whatever she wanted to say. Virgie turned her back and walked away, more concerned and confused than ever.

  “Ma’am,” Carolyn called after her. Virgie turned with a frown, and Carolyn went on. “Will you be staying tonight?”

  Virgie wondered why the woman would ask such a stupid question even if she was slow. She couldn’t hide her irritation when she said, “I have no car and there’s a foot of snow on the ground. Nobody would be stupid enough to get out in this weather, so it looks as if I have no choice, doesn’t it?”

  Carolyn seemed to ignore the sarcasm. “The maid didn’t come in because we didn’t know we’d have a guest today, and the sheets haven’t been changed in your room, so do you want me to change your sheets and bring fresh towels so you will have them if…”

  Virgie shook her head and interrupted again. “You don’t need to change the sheets, but bring me some fresh towels later. I only use hotel towels once.”

  Carolyn gave her an enthusiastic nod. “What about your friend who is in the room next to yours? Do you want me to change her sheets and bring her fresh towels because she might like to have clean towels, too and I don’t mind getting them for her because the maid didn’t come in because of the snow?”

  Virgie started to cut her off and tell her not to bother, but an idea floated across her mind. She had already figured out that Carolyn was the type to agree to anything to please a guest. She wondered why businesses hired the likes of her anyway. There were too many bleeding hearts in the world to suit her. “Since my friend isn’t here, let me go into her room and I’ll check to see if she needs towels or the sheets need changing.”

  “Sure.” Carolyn opened a box on a shelf under the counter. She took out a key and handed it to Virgie. “I’m going to give you this key, but you have to bring it back when you’re through checking because Mr. Winslow knows I can be trusted to keep up with all the keys and I want to do it right because he knows Mr. Hargrove always trusted me when he owned the place and when Mr. Winslow….”

  Virgie walked away, wondering who Mr. Winslow was and trying not to show surprise that the woman wasn’t going to the room with her.

  As soon as she stepped into the room, Virgie knew Doreen’s bed hadn’t been slept in. That means she left last night. Probably right after I gave her the car keys. Boy, that was a dumb thing to do.

  She went into the bathroom. The towels hadn’t been used and there were no personal items on the counter. No makeup. No curling-iron, which Virgie knew Doreen used every morning because she hated it when her bleached hair was flat. Neither was there. Not a hair brush or tooth brush or any personal item. “What are you up to, Doreen and what have you done with my car?” She went back into the bedroom.

  She opened the closet. There were two pairs of pants and a couple of sweaters hanging there. On the floor were two suitcases. Virgie recognized the one which contained Doreen’s folded clothes. She hadn’t noticed her friend having the other one before. It must be the little one she wanted to get out of the car last night. She picked it up and put in on the luggage rack, hoping it would give her a clue as to what was going on. She opened it and shock crossed her face. The suitcase contained a black notebook, several sticks of dynamite, a large hunting knife, two boxes of shells and a revolver.

  Before Virgie could react, there was a knock on the door. Her heart was beating fast as she closed the suitcase and opened the door.

  “Ma’am,” Carolyn said. “I was on the way to your room with your towels when your friend pulled into the parking lot and came in and I told her you were anxious to see her and I’d given you a key to her room to see if she left a note or anything and she didn’t say it was okay or anything, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  Virgie knew that wasn’t the rea
son she’d been given the key, but she didn’t correct the woman. “Where is my friend now?”

  “She went back out to the car and told me to tell you to get your coat and come help her get something out of the car because it was heavy and she couldn’t carry it by herself.”

  Virgie nodded. She handed Carolyn the key to Doreen’s room and picked up the small suitcase, intending to ask Doreen about its contents as soon as she got to the car. She hurried to her room and grabbed her coat, wondering all the time what in the world was going on. What could she have that was so heavy? Surely, Doreen would explain things to her now. If she doesn’t do it voluntarily, she’s going to have a fight on her hands, especially if she doesn’t explain about these weapons. As soon as I find out about them, I’ll ask her why the hell she took my car without my permission.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was seven o’clock that evening, and the dining room at Bed, Breakfast and More was almost full. Seth was sitting at a table with his friends, Alex and Heather Hargrove, another of the larger cattle ranchers in the area.

  “What did the police do, Seth?” Alex asked when Seth told them about the dynamite in Powder’s stall.

  “Wasn’t much they could do. They took the dynamite and said they’d see if they could get prints, but Theo handled it with his bare hands and I touched it before I thought. They weren’t hopeful they could get anything from it.” He had no intention of telling them about the threats. It wasn’t their problem. “Now that we’ve discussed the strange incident at my place this morning, we need to sit back and enjoy this night. Kay and Jude sure know how to put on a party, don’t they?”

  “They sure do. Makes me almost sorry I sold this place to Jude.” Alex chuckled.

  “Honey, you know we don’t have Kay’s housekeeper, Gilbert Fisher to teach the cooks and I don’t think Irma is up to pulling off something as fancy as this.” Heather took her husband’s hand.