Her Very Own Family Page 5
Adorable little kids, something else life might not have in store for her. But after the conversation of the past few minutes, did she even want to subject more children to the cruelty of life and the fickleness of relationships?
Enough of this downer stuff. She was making a good life for herself, one filled with hope and beauty and not tainted by the past. Maybe even some new friendships, she thought as she glanced at Brady. That’s all she could hope for now. It had to be enough.
“We should get back. I want to get some of those flowers in the ground,” she said.
They walked back through the interior of the fort and the visitor center. On the way out the front door toward the parking lot, a headline in the USA TODAY box caught her attention.
More Arrests Possible in Evangelist Fraud Case.
Her heart stumbled painfully, as if it’d tripped on a big root and crashed to the packed earth. Pulse pounding in her ears, she leaned forward and read the opening of the article.
Investigators have found new evidence in the fraud case of former evangelist Thomasina York, which may lead to more arrests.
Audrey felt the hated tightness in her chest right before her air passages constricted and her lungs started wheezing. Dizziness swamped her. She grabbed at the newspaper box, but her fingers slipped off the edge. She opened her mouth in an effort to suck in needed air as she felt her arms and legs go weak with tingling.
Just when she thought the nightmare was behind her, it came barreling into her new life.
Chapter Four
Brady turned around at Audrey’s sound of distress to see her gasping and stumbling backward. He sprang to catch her before she fell and hurt herself. With his arm wrapped around her shoulders, he guided her back a few steps to a bench then knelt in front of her.
“Audrey, what’s wrong?” As soon as he asked, he heard the wheezing and saw her struggling to get it under control.
“Asthma,” she said between wheezes. “I’ll be okay…in a minute.”
She didn’t look okay. Totally freaked was more like it.
“Do you have an inhaler?”
“At home.”
Where it would do her no good. But he wasn’t going to scold her now when she couldn’t breathe. He stood and pulled her to her feet, then started to lift her in his arms.
She took a step away. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Taking you to the hospital.” And fast.
She waved away his concern. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. You’re having an asthma attack, and you have no inhaler.”
“Really—”
“You’re going. That’s final.”
She gave up arguing, either feeling it was futile or realizing she needed the help. But she didn’t let him carry her, instead making her way slowly to the car and falling into the passenger seat.
Brady slid the driver’s seat back to accommodate his longer legs and started the ignition in the same motion. He ran one stoplight and nearly creamed a squirrel racing across the street, but he didn’t care.
Audrey’s breathing sounded less labored by the time he braked outside the E.R. doors, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He honked several times, then raced to her side of the car to help her out.
A nurse hurried out the door. “What’s the emergency?”
Brady looked across the top of the Jetta. “She’s having an asthma attack.”
Audrey tried to protest again, but her words were drowned out by the activity of hospital staff guiding her into a wheelchair, hurrying her inside and pumping him for details.
“Is she allergic to anything?” another nurse asked.
“I don’t know,” Brady said, feeling useless.
Once inside the E.R., he was steered in one direction as Audrey was wheeled off in another. He answered the nurse’s questions as best he could, but that wasn’t very well. All he could offer was what had happened in the minutes leading up to the attack.
“I’m sorry. We only met a few days ago. She just moved to the area.”
“Maybe she’s allergic to something here she’s not been exposed to before.” The nurse, a cherub-cheeked woman of about fifty, patted his hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her. Why don’t you have a seat over in the waiting area.”
How in the world was he supposed to sit still when Audrey couldn’t breathe? And when bad memories still lingered in this very hospital? It seemed only yesterday that he’d been here hoping his mother would recover from her stroke, here that he’d heard the doctor say that she had succumbed after lingering for a week. He wouldn’t have guessed he’d be back here so soon.
THE WHEEZING WAS GONE now, replaced by embarrassment. She hadn’t had an attack in months. It hadn’t even occurred to her to bring her albuterol inhaler. She’d thought she was past ever needing it again.
The young doctor listened to Audrey’s lungs. “You seem to be doing much better.”
Audrey nodded.
“Any idea what set off the attack?”
“Anxiety. I was diagnosed with anxiety-induced asthma last year.” Not to mention the occasional panic attack, but she wasn’t going to share that tidbit. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she was still susceptible to them. Today would be the last one. It would.
The doctor glanced toward the door of the examining room. “Anything we can help you with?”
It took Audrey a moment to pick up on the implication. “Oh, it’s not him. It’s a family matter.”
“He’s not family?”
“No, just a…friend. He’s helping me do some work on my place.”
Her response must have rung true with the doctor, because the suspicion faded from her expression.
“You need to always carry your albuterol with you,” she said as she gave Audrey a sample inhaler. “Even if you never need it, it’s there if you do.”
Audrey nodded, hating the idea of carrying around yet another reminder of how her life had changed since her mother’s indictment. As she slid off the examining table, her new, beautiful life felt like a shaky lie.
As she approached the waiting area, though, she forced all those memories of the past away and put on her best “I’m totally fine” face.
Brady pushed away from the wall he was leaning against when he saw her. “You okay?”
“Good as new.” She held up the inhaler and wiggled it. “And prepared for the next time high pollen counts stage a sneak attack.”
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him more closely, scrunching her forehead. “What for?”
“You must have been allergic to something at the park.”
Again, she waved away his concern. “Who could know? I should have had my inhaler with me.” She headed for the E.R. doors, noticing that Brady had moved her car into one of the nearby parking spaces. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for an ice-cream cone before I head back to work.”
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off,” he said as he strode out beside her.
“Nah. Really, I’m fine.” She took a long, deep breath. “See, no wheezing.”
He didn’t look comfortable about it, but he didn’t protest further. Instead, he slid into the passenger side of the car without trying to baby her more by insisting on driving.
After taking a detour through the Dairy Queen drive-through, they headed back to Willow Glen. Thankfully, she was able to keep the conversation focused on the work at the mill and her plans for the future. She wanted to keep looking forward and ignore what was behind her.
If the investigators mentioned in that article would let her.
As they approached Willow Glen, Audrey looked to her left and saw a large sign set back off the road that said Witt Construction. Beyond it was a drive leading back to several buildings and a lot filled with construction machinery.
She glanced over at Brady, her eyes widening in surprise. “Is that your company?” That was a bit more than a little cons
truction business.
“Yep. Dad started the company forty years ago.”
“Looks like it must be successful.” Her tone made that sound like an understatement.
“It pays the bills,” he said simply. “No one’s really rich in this area.”
“Just good, honest, hardworking folks,” she said. “That’s why I like it.”
After dropping Brady off at his father’s house, Audrey backtracked to Willow Glen to buy a copy of the newspaper that had sent her into that horrible gasping fit. She refused to look at it, though, until she reached the mill, unloaded the supplies, poured herself a glass of lemonade and seated herself on the front porch.
With a deep breath, she opened the paper and read the article by the light of the fading day. This time, she managed not to wheeze her way through the lead, though her chest felt tight by the time she was done. Not due to asthma this time, but from pure worry. Further interviews with unnamed sources had put investigators back on the trail.
Who could they be after? Carol, her mom’s personal accountant? Adam, her longtime assistant? Someone else in the ministry? Audrey had a hard time picturing any of them dipping their hands in the cash-filled cookie jar, but then her mom had shocked her, hadn’t she? And if the investigators had invaded all of their lives like they had hers, how could any rock be left unturned? How could the investigators have missed anything?
Her stomach churned at the idea that those investigators might show up here asking those same horrible questions all over again. What if they showed up when Nelson was here? Or Brady? She couldn’t stand the thought of having his initial suspicion of her vindicated, even if it had nothing to do with his dad.
Willow Glen was a small town, and it wouldn’t take any time for word to spread. Her dream would be destroyed before she even finished the renovations. She glanced at her mother’s name, and not for the first time wondered why she hadn’t changed her own last name. It would put one more barrier between her and the life she wanted to leave behind. But every time she considered it, the change seemed too drastic. Not to mention it’d be a slap against the father she’d loved dearly but lost so young.
She folded the paper and stared out toward the forest surrounding the mill, watched as butterflies flitted amongst the last rays of sun slanting through the trees. She’d never sat anywhere so peaceful, and she wished she could lock the rest of the world out of her little utopia. Well, except for Nelson and Brady.
She closed her eyes and listened to the trickle of the creek to her left. It reminded her of that afternoon’s picnic on the banks of the Watauga River. She’d had a really nice time with Brady.
If only things were different, she’d be more than interested in getting to know Brady Witt better. If only things were different.
AFTER YET ANOTHER bad night of sleep, Audrey dragged herself out of bed as daylight was creeping into the clearing around the mill. It was one of those mornings when she wished she was a coffee drinker, when she couldn’t sleep but didn’t feel fully awake, either. After eating a banana and drinking a bottle of water, she pulled on a pair of her new gardening gloves and got to work putting the flowers she’d bought the day before in the ground. She alternated colors along the edges of the porch and down the side of the mill that would be most visible to guests. They looked wilted after a day spent in the backseat of her car, but some water, fresh soil and mountain air should revive them.
She finished planting the last pot right as Nelson and Brady pulled up the lane. Even though she’d known it was likely them, she’d tensed when the sound of tires on gravel had first reached her. Visions of police cruisers or an FBI agent in an unmarked government sedan had tormented her during sleep, and it didn’t appear that those same images were going to leave her alone during her waking hours.
Maybe she should call her attorney just to see if he’d heard anything, but that seemed like inviting in the bogeyman, so she scrapped the idea and decided to live with the uncertainty.
“Girl, do you ever sleep?” Nelson asked as he walked toward the mill.
“Sleep? Who needs sleep?”
Nelson snorted and headed inside to get to work on the window next to the waterwheel. Audrey glanced over at Brady and found him watching her, concern etching his features.
“You feeling okay today?” he asked.
She couldn’t have him tiptoeing around her, thinking her frail, so she went the teasing route. “Yes, are you?”
Her response made him lift his eyebrows. “Yeah, why?”
“Because you have this look on your face like you’re trying to figure out advanced calculus.”
Brady loosened his stance. “That can’t be a pleasant look considering I never took calculus.”
“I did. Trust me, it sucked.” Before she gave in to the temptation to engage him in further conversation, she walked toward the back of the mill with the intent of pulling weeds.
While Audrey felt Brady watching her every now and then as the morning went on, he was less chatty today. For the most part, they stuck to their own tasks—him helping his dad with the large window, and her working with first the electrician and then the plumber.
The only break she took was when she drove into town to buy them the pizza she’d ordered for lunch. When she walked into the Glen Grocery, Meg of the magenta hair was at the register again looking bored out of her mind. Audrey gave her a wave as she headed toward the deli in the back corner of the store where you could get everything from sliced meats to fried chicken to humongous pizzas.
The pretty, twentysomething woman working in the deli slid the pizza onto the counter for Audrey before she asked for it. She guessed word had gotten around about her and the mill project. She suspected her and Brady’s encounter with Miss Brenda at Lowe’s had something to do with that.
“One extra-large supreme,” the woman said
Audrey glanced at her name tag. Like the rest of the name tags at the Glen Grocery, it was topped by a yellow smiley face. Below that was the name Tewanda Hardy. “Thanks, Tewanda.”
“You need somebody to come out and help you serve it? I hear Brady Witt is working for you, and I bet he looks even hotter all sweaty and dirty,” Tewanda said as she fanned herself dramatically.
The statement shocked Audrey into speechlessness for a moment, until she realized that the expression on Tewanda’s face was pure teasing instead of that of a woman on a mission to capture Brady. Audrey pushed down the crazy possessiveness Tewanda’s words had caused to rise up in her. “No, I’m pretty sure the guys will just inhale this before I even set the box down.”
Tewanda laughed. “Isn’t that the truth? Men, no table manners. It’s like serving wild dogs.”
Audrey laughed, too, and realized she liked Tewanda despite her obvious appreciation for Brady’s male form.
Tewanda placed a ticket on the pizza box and said goodbye before Audrey headed toward the checkout.
Meg perked up as Audrey approached. “Say, when are you going to open the café?”
“I’m not sure, hopefully by midsummer. Depends on how the renovations go.”
“So, have you hired any waitresses yet?”
“No. You interested?” Audrey tried picturing that magenta hair inside her café, and oddly it seemed to fit.
“Yes,” the girl breathed as she rang up the pizza and accepted Audrey’s money. “If I stay here much longer, I may go lock myself in the freezer in the back.”
Audrey glanced around at the scattering of customers in the aisles. “Boring?”
“To the nth degree.”
Audrey smiled. “I tell you what. Write down your full name and phone number, and I’ll be sure to call you when I’m ready to hire.”
“You, Miss York, are a godsend.” Meg quickly wrote her information on the back of a discarded cash register receipt and handed it over.
Audrey glanced at the paper. “I think godsend is stretching it. And call me Audrey.”
When she got back to the mill, Audrey couldn�
�t help but giggle when the guys dived at the pizza like those wild dogs Tewanda had mentioned. With a shake of her head, she grabbed a piece of the pizza before it was all gone. She ate it with one hand while she measured out the pathway to the still-nonexistent gazebo and calculated how many stepping-stones she’d eventually need.
When Nelson and Brady finished the window project, they moved on to enclosing what would be the café’s kitchen in the back corner of the mill. She got on her cell and started making calls with the aim of getting the waterwheel operational again.
With that checked off her list, she carried the day’s debris to the burning barrel then lit it. The more she kept busy, the less she could think about how all this work might be for nothing.
After depositing a handful of lumber scraps in the fire, she turned to get another load and almost ran into Brady. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, as if to steady her. The moment his hand touched her bare skin, she’d swear she felt and heard a sizzle. In danger of staring into his eyes way too long, she lowered her gaze.
“Sorry, didn’t hear you.” She was surprised she could hear now past the hammering of her pulse.
He lowered his arm to his side, and Audrey fought the crazy feeling of being abandoned.
“Maybe that’s because you’ve been going ninety miles an hour all day.”
She looked past him, wishing her heart would stop thumping so hard against her ribs. “Lots to do.”
“None of which will get done if you land back in the hospital with heatstroke. You need to slow down.”
“I’m fine.” She started to walk around him, but he caught her wrist, not painfully, but firm nonetheless.
“What’s wrong?”
She swallowed and tried to ignore the feel of those strong fingers against her skin, how long it’d been since anyone had touched her. “Nothing. I’m just busy. I want to open this place as soon as possible.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been twitchy all day.”
“Twitchy?”
“You jump every time someone drives up the road.”