Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Magnolia
I was grateful for my tiny apartment, but some nights—okay, a lot of nights—it was so quiet and lonely I could barely stand it.
This Saturday evening was one of those nights.
A glance at the clock on my stove told me it was just after eleven. Still early for a girl who never seemed able to sleep until two or three a.m. if I was lucky.
Often on nights like this, I took a walk, not so much for exercise but to get out of my head.
This evening I was too exhausted to walk after pulling off an eightieth birthday party for Harriet Limberger, but I put on a worn, oversized sweatshirt over my leggings, stuffed my feet into my fuzzy slippers, and picked up my favorite throw blanket, then headed outside.
The late October air was chilly but refreshing.
I went down the exterior stairs to the cushioned bench swing Dotty had hung in the cozy alcove beneath the stairs.
A string of fairy lights wound around the railing, and more twinkling lights were draped in the evergreen trees that lined both sides of the compact yard-like space behind her store.
She’d created a cute, private conversation area out here where we sometimes sat with her friends for tea or a glass of wine. Besides the swing, there was a bistro table and chairs, plus some additional patio chairs and end tables. Pots of mums in burgundy, pumpkin, and gold livened up every corner.
I sat sideways on the swing, with my back facing The Lily Pad’s rear door, an outdoor pillow behind my back and my feet stretching toward the alley. As I tucked my blanket around me, the swing rocked gently, soothingly.
The party had been a success, with Harriet suitably stunned by her daughter’s ability to pull off a surprise bash for her.
I’d gotten several compliments on the way I’d transformed the new community center’s beige-walled rental room into a fall-themed haven.
I might’ve even gotten a new client out of it, as one of Harriet’s neighbors had gone out of her way to get my business card for a possible family reunion next summer.
I’d had a busy week, between preparations for Harriet’s party, two new bookings, and meeting with Presley to get serious about her wedding. Regardless of being occupied with work, I’d spent plenty of time thinking about the sordid past my mother had revealed to me last week.
My emotions were all over the board, between relief at not being Felix James’s daughter, sadness and resentment that I’d been a pawn between him and my mother since before I was born, and a very mixed bag when it came to my mother herself.
I might dislike her, but I felt a commonality with her due to the environment she’d grown up in, because I’d grown up much the same, with a father figure who valued his business and career far above his daughter.
I knew how much my own situation had screwed up my psyche, my self-esteem, my self-worth.
I’d done a lot of hard, painful work over the past year and a half, and I still had a long way to go.
I suspected my mother had never done anything for her mental health.
There was a small part of me that sympathized deeply.
As much as it irritated me that she’d gone from depending on one man to another, I hoped she’d found genuine love with Franklin.
Maybe love could begin healing someone, but something my therapist had taught me was that you had to love yourself first, before you could truly love and be loved by another.
I wasn’t sure Bianca Lansford James could claim that.
I’d been pissed that she’d taken my ring, but now that I’d had time to think, I could admit that the disappearance of the ring had actually done me a favor. If something like that could drive an eighteen-year wedge between Luke and me, we’d never stood a chance anyway.
I hadn’t heard from my mom since she’d left my office last week, and I hadn’t heard talk around town of any blowup with Felix.
I still hadn’t figured out what to do about him.
I could just let it go and move on with my life.
That would probably be the best option. But thirty-some years of resentment was a lot to bottle up.
Though I’d only told Luke and Presley the truth about my paternity, I wasn’t concerned about maintaining Felix’s privacy.
He could suck an egg. I wanted the world to know I was not related to that sad excuse for a man, but I also didn’t plan to cause a scene about it.
Presley had suggested changing my last name, and while I liked that idea, I had no clue what I would change it to.
I wasn’t a James, thank God, but I sure didn’t want to be a Lansford either.
Picking a random surname seemed generic and meaningless.
Movement in the darkness of the alley, maybe ten feet away, caught my attention, and my pulse raced. My eyes widened as I realized…it was the llama. Esmerelda. The frequent runaway.
I froze where I was, thinking she’d meander on past. She was coming from the direction of the bakery, which was less than a block down the street and had been closed for hours, so I wasn’t sure what her goal was if she’d walked away from her temple of cookies. Did llamas have goals?
For the first time, I regretted that there wasn’t a fence or a wall around this little backyard, only bushy evergreens on two sides that normally offered plenty of privacy. Just…not when there was a stray llama bearing down on you.
She angled in toward the bistro table, pausing to sniff a pot of mums. Apparently they didn’t do anything for her, because she walked on by them.
Straight for me.
I tensed, watching every step she took and trying to figure out what to do. I hadn’t heard of a llama attacking a human before. Rumor was Esmerelda was spoiled and soft and only wanted cookies, but if that was true, why was she closing in on me? I sadly had no cookies.
She was between me and the foot of the stairs. The back door of The Lily Pad was locked. You couldn’t pass from the back to the front without going through the shop. Those big, dark eyes were locked on me.
“Hey, Esmerelda,” I said in the gentlest voice I could muster as my heart pounded in fear. “What are you doing here?”
She was four feet away.
Llamas don’t eat people, I repeated in my mind.
I knew now I should’ve dashed to the stairs and up to my apartment the second I’d spotted her.
As she closed the distance, I felt for my phone even as I knew I’d left it upstairs on purpose. One of the things Jolene wanted me to work on was simply being with myself, no device, no way to block out my thoughts, so that’s what I’d intended.
I hadn’t planned on a llama assault.
Did llamas eat people? She looked hungry.
I curled into myself as she came right up to the swing. When she slowly eased her head toward mine, I buried my face in my arms like a little kid pulling the blankets over their head when they were scared. If you couldn’t see it, you’d be okay, right?
Except that didn’t hold true when you caught the faint animal smell and heard her snuffing and breathing. Up close.
Would a llama bite hurt?
Not as badly as a snake bite, I would bet, trying to find comfort in…anything as I felt her snout right next to my head.
Then at my neck.
I let out a whimpery sound without opening my mouth as she nuzzled me. Gently.
Was she luring me in for the kill, or was she in fact a mild-mannered beast with no evil intentions?
I wasn’t willing to show my face and find out.
And then she let out a creepy low hum that made me wonder if she was offering up a llama prayer before she sacrificed me for her people.
“Help!” I called weakly, still not lifting my head.
“There she is!” A hushed male voice reached me from the alley, shooting my alarm level up for different reasons.
Since some men were known to be even more dangerous than llamas, I forced my head up so I could see what new danger was heading my way.
“Magnolia?” a second male voice said in a loud whisper.
A familiar voice.
“Luke? What are you—”
Before I could say more, Ben Holloway was on the other side of the llama and had a harness on her. Luke wasn’t far behind.
Esmerelda let out an irritated grunt.
“Got you, girl,” Ben said to the animal.
I expelled a shaky breath.
“Come here, Esmerelda,” Ben said. “Give Magnolia room to breathe.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked me, stepping up next to Ben.
I was still trying to breathe regularly as I took inventory and tried not to be affected by Luke’s concerned expression. “She didn’t bite me.”
“I don’t think llamas bite people,” Luke said, grinning, probably loving that I looked like a big idiot.
“I’m not sure what she was doing,” Ben said. “Did you give her a cookie or something?”
Sitting up and turning so my feet hit the ground, I shook my head. “I don’t have any cookies. I was just sitting here minding my business when she appeared out of nowhere. I sat super still, hoping she’d keep on going, but she came straight for me. It was freaky.”
“Both times I’ve helped you wrangle her before, she ran away and made us chase her,” Luke said to Ben.
“This rebel always runs,” Ben confirmed, patting the beast’s neck. “Except for tonight.”
Luke held out his hand as if to help me up.
I was shaken enough I took it without thought.
As his big palm closed around mine, his rough, calloused skin shot me back in time.
His hands had been working hands even in high school, though he was bigger, stronger now.
I remembered how I’d been so fascinated by the contrast of our hands—mine so much smaller and softer, and his tanned, coarse, and powerful, even then.
Our eyes met for a weighted moment, as if he was remembering too. Then he released me.
I caught my throw blanket before it fell to the ground.
Holding Esmerelda’s lead with one hand, Ben pulled me into his side for a half hug with the other. “You’re really okay?” he asked. “I’ve never known her to be aggressive before.”
I leaned into Ben but kept all my parts on this side of him, not wanting to tangle with Esmerelda on accident. “She just…nuzzled me, I think. I had my eyes closed. She was aggressive in a…an interested way, but I guess not a threatening way.” I could see that now that I’d lived through her ambush.
“What were you after, girl?” Ben asked his funny-looking, giraffe-necked pet.
Esmerelda swiveled her head to look up at Ben, who stood mere inches taller than her, then those big, intent eyes found me again.
I straightened and stepped away from the vet before his llama craned her neck any closer. “I’m good. Just…it’s not every day I’m accosted by a llama in my own yard.”
Ben frowned and shook his head. “I’d say we need to have a talk, Esmerelda, but I know very well you don’t listen.”
I avoided looking at Luke, whose gaze I could feel on me.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Magnolia,” Ben said. “She’s harmless, but I’m sure that was disconcerting.”
Disconcerting. Yeah.
I forced a carefree smile and waved him off. “I’m okay. No harm done.”
I’d definitely be checking up and down the alley before I relaxed on the swing again.
“Let’s get you loaded up and locked in the barn, miss,” Ben said to the llama.
“Hand me your keys,” Luke said. “I’ll go pull the van closer.”
As soon as Ben handed him the keys, Luke jogged off without saying goodbye. Which shouldn’t have surprised me. He hadn’t apologized for shutting me down years ago either.
Obviously that moment when he’d grasped my hand had not made an impact on him after all. I must have imagined we’d shared even a split second of memories or connection. He still wanted nothing to do with me.
I said good night to Ben, my eyes locked on his pet, who stared back at me, and went up the stairs, reminding myself the past was the past. That spark of “connection” was my mind playing tricks on me. I did not want anything to do with Luke Durham either.