Chapter 5
She woke up at dawn sweating, her heart pounding. Her cheek was also wet with tears. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to steady herself. When she managed a modicum of control, she realized that her throat was parched.
Swinging her legs off the bed took some doing and she had to wait for the dizziness to pass before she could make her way to the bathroom.
Touching the switch, the light flooded the room and she leaned on the counter, her palms pressed against the tiles.
Her face was bathed with a combination of sweat and tears.
The silk bonnet she had put on was askew, a testament to her restless turning and twisting.
And her hands were shaking. She noticed it when she picked up the glass and turned on the tap. It took two glasses filled to the brim to get rid of the dryness in her throat. Putting the glass down, she bent to splash cold water over her face.
Using the towel hanging by the sink, she patted her face dry. Putting it away, she turned out the light and went back inside the bedroom. She would not be able to go back to sleep, not right now. A glance at the bedside clock showed that it was almost five.
She could go for a run, burn some energy and tire herself out with the hope that she would get some sleep, but that was highly unlikely.
Sliding between the covers, she sat back against the headboard and wrapped her hands around her knees. The room was dark, with shadows lurking from the light of the sliver of a moon shining through the curtains. She had made a fire earlier, but that had died down to embers.
The room was not chilly, so there was no need to add more chips.
Besides, the heavy quilt was adequately warding off the slight cold.
It was not the temperature, but something else inside her.
The sick crawling of memories giving her the chills.
The dream had been so real, she had woken up thinking she was back in Boston as a teenager.
The conversation had seemed so real. She was seventeen and about to go off to college and was so excited.
She had received a scholarship, a full one.
And it had been because of hard work. Her parents, her father would be so proud of her.
She was going to do law, become a lawyer like him.
Surely, that would make him love her. That would make him not regret not having a son.
He would be pleased with her and proud. She could not wait to tell them the news.
She had been the first to get home after basketball practice and had seen the letter addressed to her on the entryway table.
Trepidation had hit her first and it had taken her several minutes of deep breathing to finally slit the envelope open.
And she had waited for them to get home. Her mother had been the first to arrive. Aria recalled racing down the stairs even though that kind of behavior was not allowed, but she had been so excited to share the news.
Her mother had been upset of course and reprimanded her. "What if your father had been here?"
But for once, Aria had not cared. She held the letter high and danced a jig before telling her mother the good news.
Her reaction had dampened her excitement.
Her mother had simply stepped into the kitchen to put the pot on for a cup of tea.
Their housekeeper had already left for the day.
The scent of roasted beef was still hovering.
Aria had been puzzled and wondered if her mother knew the significance of the news. So, she had repeated it. And got the same reaction.
That was when she had been set straight.
That was when she had been told the awful truth.
Her father had wanted a son, not a daughter.
Nothing Aria did was going to make up for the fact that she was a girl.
Her mother had calmly selected an herbal pouch from the pristine cupboard to make her tea and continued in that unemotional tone of voice as if she was discussing the weather and not tearing her daughter's life into shreds.
She was told that they tolerated her because she was their daughter, but the disappointment was keen. What was worse was the fact that the pregnancy was so difficult, the doctors had advised them of ever trying for another child. That was something they had to live with constantly.
Aria had stood there staring at the woman as if she was a complete stranger. The words, all of it were like death sentences drilling into her head. She had turned and walked back up the stairs and crawled into bed.
When dinner was announced and she went down to the dining room, her father had casually mentioned that he heard of her acceptance to college.
"The experience will do you some good." That was it, no proud-of-you speech, nothing like that. In fact, they had simply ignored her and started a conversation that centered around his day at the firm. She had forced the delicious meal down her throat and excused herself from the dinner table.
And that had not stopped her from trying to gain his approval even then.
Sliding down on the pillows, she closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.
*****
Eric Saltzer was a typical farmer. The man was bone-dry practical and kept repeating the same question over and over again. It was taking all of his patience for Kenneth to sit at the table and participate in the conversation.
And if he was being honest, he was eager to be on his way. He kept looking at his watch discreetly. He had promised Lydia that he would be at her place for nine and the hands on the watch were slowly creeping towards eight.
And if he had to explain the process of organic planting to the man seated across from him again, he was going to get up and walk out.
It was not as if they needed his business.
They were in fact doing him a damn favor.
But his father and uncle had a soft spot for the guy and wanted to help him out.
Farming was not the only thing they had going for them.
The Tierney business was diversified. Farming was what had started them out more than a hundred years ago, but now they had ventured into real estate, a shipping line, shares in a major airline as well as a pharmaceutical company.
Their corporate office might be in Birchwood, but they had offices in several major cities in the US.
Deciding that it was time to bring the meeting to an end, he signaled for the check.
"It seems I have taken up too much of your time." The man had the grace to look sheepish. "I know I have been going on and on about the same thing, but I needed clarity."
"I know this is new to you." Kenneth signed the check and handed it over before continuing. "We know what we're doing, and we want to take your farm into the twenty-first century. It's what we do." He rose and handed the man the pamphlets he had brought with him.
"Thanks." Eric rose as well. "I really appreciate you taking time this early on a Sunday morning to meet with me."
"It was my pleasure. Dad and Uncle Kevin had a golf tournament, or they would have been here."
"So they explained." Eric smiled, eyes crinkling as he held out a hand. "You've been very patient, and I appreciate that."
"Give us a call when you make a decision."
"I sure will."
With a brief nod, Kenneth hurried out of the hotel lobby.
*****
She should have called and cancelled. Seeing his car, a jeep this time, pulled into the driveway reminded her that she had agreed to breakfast. She wasn't in the mood for company and Kenneth Tierney had a way of making her uncomfortable and edgy.
She was just going to have to get rid of him.
She wanted to be alone. She hadn't gone to sleep, not even after taking an early morning run and was now feeling drained.
She wasn't even dressed for company and was still wearing the jogging suit she had worn for the run.
Pulling the door open, she stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance.
"I hope you're hungry..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the puffy eyes and the spiky lashes.
"I should have called. I'm really not in the mood. I was just going to go back to bed. I'm sorry. What are you doing?" She hadn't expected him to just brush past her.
"I'm going to put the coffee and pastries in the kitchen."
"Didn't you hear me?" She trailed behind him, bristling with anger.
"I did." He put the carton with the coffee down and opened the pastry bag. "I picked up donuts and some croissants."
"Just go."
Turning to face her, he tried his best to tamp down on the anger. "I'm not leaving and right now, I don't think you're in any shape to throw me out. You're either going to sit and have breakfast with me or tell me what's going on. You choose."
She stood there glaring at him for a full two minutes before turning on her heels and walking away.
He took some time to calm down. He figured she did not need him going off on her.
But his heart was taking a beating. He wanted to be there for her, and she was not letting him.
Taking a deep breath, he went after her and found her sitting on the sofa in front of a dying fire.
The weather had changed and become brisk and by all indications they were in for some more rain.
Without a word, he hunkered down in front of the fireplace and started to stack wood chips.
Making sure it was blazing, he rose and went back to the kitchen.
She sat still and did not move when he left the room. So, she was not going to get rid of him. She was just going to ignore him until he took the hint and just leave.
She wanted to throw a full-blown pity party and did not need an audience.
For a moment, silence hung heavily in the room, punctuated only by the soft crackle of the rekindled fire.
She tried to focus on the warmth spreading from the hearth, hoping it would thaw the chill inside her.
But Kenneth's presence lingered, persistent and steady, refusing to be pushed away with a few curt words.