Silver River Secrets Page 10

  “That’s the name of the game, buddy. Bring ’er on in.”

  Sam pulled the Mustang into an empty bay. He selected the tools he needed from Rory’s workbench and went to work. Rory returned to his polishing.

  “How’s Lacey doing with your loaner?” Sam asked after a few minutes of silence. “Bet she misses her Camaro.”

  “Don’t know. Haven’t talked to her since she drove off. Told her to call if she had any problems.”

  “She’s probably busy with her assignment for Elton.”

  “No doubt.” Rory stepped back and surveyed his progress. The polished finish shone under the overhead lights.

  “You know any more about what’s going on with her?”

  “No, I haven’t talked to anyone. The person I want to talk to is Remy.”

  “You still want that property.”

  “I want that house gone.” Rory gave the front fender a vigorous swipe with his cloth.

  “Can’t blame you for that. But maybe she’d be more likely to sell if she knew what you were going to do with the property.”

  “If A.J. has his way, it’ll be a subdivision. And since he’s the financial backer, I don’t have much choice. You got any ideas?”

  Sam finished removing the wiper on the driver’s side of the windshield, laid it on the workbench and picked up the new wiper. “Maybe a park, something like that, donated to the city.”

  Rory rubbed his jaw. “Do you think what happened there would put people off?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Just a thought. Hey, can you give me a hand here? I got a question.”

  “Sure.”

  Rory put down his can of polish and went to Sam’s side. A few minutes later both wipers were in place.

  “Okay, what’s next?” Rory asked.

  Sam looked at his watch. “I’ve had my fix for tonight. Len and Jim said they’d be at Erv’s about now. Why don’t we head on over for a game of pool?”

  Rory was about to agree. A night out with the guys at the popular sports bar sounded good. But then his gaze traveled to the Chevy. “Think I’ll pass. I need to give the Chevy a run. She hasn’t been out for a couple of weeks.”

  Sam nodded. “Okay, but on your way home, give Erv’s a look. We might still be there.”

  After Sam left, Rory finished cleaning up and then turned out the lights and locked up the shop. The Chevy stood in the driveway now, waiting for him.

  He drove down the hill and across the bridge to Main Street. The lights of establishments blinked on here and there. Beyond the town, the mountains glowed against a pale blue sky.

  He turned off Main and cruised through the residential area, where cars were parked in the driveways and lights shone from the windows of the homes. He thought about going home himself, having taken the short ride he’d intended. But his house would be dark. No one waited for him there.

  He could go to Erv’s and meet up with the guys, but tonight that held no appeal, either.

  He continued driving aimlessly for a while, and then decided on a destination. Turning back onto Main Street, he headed out of town.

  *

  LACEY SIPPED HER TEA, glancing at Gram over the rim of her cup. Gram gazed into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Neither had said much since they’d come out to the patio to enjoy the evening. Although the heat of the day lingered, a light breeze swept off the foothills and through the cottonwood trees along the riverbank.

  Lacey had brought her tablet, intending to review the notes she’d taken today, but it lay in her lap, yet to be turned on. Instead, she savored the peace of the evening and the comfort of a full stomach. The dining room had served up a wonderful dinner of baked chicken, sweet potatoes and a variety of salads. She’d enjoyed meeting and chatting with some of Gram’s new friends.

  Gram shifted in her chair and patted Lacey’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.” Warmth filled Lacey. Despite their differences, she dearly loved her grandmother. Remy had been a steadying presence in her life, paying attention to her when her mother drifted off into her dream world and her father was working out of town. And of course, Gram was the mainstay in her life after both of Lacey’s parents had died, seeing her through her college years and, even though she hadn’t wanted Lacey to settle permanently in Boise, rooting for her when she was offered a job with the historical society.

  “I really appreciate all the help with the move,” Gram went on.

  “I know.”

  “I wish—” Gram looked away.

  “What? What do you wish?”

  “Ah, that I was more able to help.”

  Gram’s initial hesitation told Lacey that that wasn’t what she really wanted to say. Before she could pursue the matter, her cell phone rang. She picked up the phone and looked at the incoming number. Local, but not one she recognized. She answered the call.

  “Hello, Lacey,” came the responding greeting.

  The number she might not recognize, but no mistaking the deep male voice that rang in her ear. Her breath quickened.

  “Hey, Rory,” she said, striving to sound casual. “I hope you’re calling to tell me the part for my car arrived.”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Then what—”

  “I want to show you something. Come on out front.”

  “You’re here?”

  “Yeah, so come on out. You gotta see this.”

  “Can’t you just tell me what it is?”

  “No. I want you to see it.”

  At least, he wasn’t asking to come in. “All right, just for a few minutes.”

  She punched off the call. “Rory’s out front with something he wants to show me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She slipped her cell phone into her jacket pocket, picked up her tablet and stood.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gram said.

  Lacey shook her head. “No, in a few minutes.”

  “No, no. I feel the past rolling in on us, like the fog sometimes rolls off the river. Don’t you remember? He’d call and off you’d go, and we wouldn’t see you the rest of the evening. I’d hear the stairs creak late at night as you crept up to bed.”

  “The past is over, Gram, and we can’t go back. Any association Rory Dalton and I have now is strictly business.”

  Gram just shook her head and waved Lacey off.

  *

  IN THE PARKING LOT, Lacey stopped and looked around, expecting to see Rory’s truck, but it was nowhere in sight. Then a voice called, “Over here, Lacey.”

  She followed the voice and found Rory, arms folded, leaning against an older-model, two-toned green Chevrolet.

  He straightened and made a sweeping gesture, as though introducing royalty. “Take a look at this.”

  “Wow. Is this the car you bought when we—”

  “Were back in high school? Yep. You were with me when we found it in the scrap yard. Since then, I’ve bought other cars and restored them, too. But this is a favorite.”

  She ran her hand along the car’s smooth, shiny fender. “It’s beautiful. You did a great job.”

  He opened the passenger door. “Get in. Try ’er out.”

  She took a step back. “No, I—”

  “Come on, Lacey. You know you want to.” His voice teased.

  He was right. She did want to. But was the car the temptation? Or the man? She looked at him standing there, eyes shining, a big grin on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Oh, all right.” Lacey slid onto the seat.

  Rory shut the door and came around to the driver’s side. “New upholstery, new finish on the dash, new carpets, the works,” he said as he climbed behind the wheel.

  He stuck a key in the ignition. The engine hummed to life, and before she realized what was happening, he backed out of the parking space.

  “Wait! What are you doing?”

  “We’re going for a ride.”

  Lacey gripped the door handle. “No, I can’t.”

  “
Come on. You love classic cars as much as I do.”

  “That’s beside the point. Gram’s expecting me to spend the evening with her.”

  “I’ll have you back in thirty minutes, tops.”

  They reached the end of the driveway. Rory stopped to check for traffic and then pulled onto the highway. He talked on about the car, what he’d done under the hood, in the trunk, in the interior. Lacey listened with only half her mind. The other half spun back ten years to when she and Rory took many rides such as this.

  Twilight faded away, and Rory switched on the car’s headlights. Familiar aromas drifted in the open windows: hay from passing farms, sage growing alongside the road. The whistle of a distant train drifted across the landscape.

  Rory glanced at her. “How’s your assignment for Elton going?”

  “Good. Tomorrow, I’m interviewing Del Ford at the museum.”

  “I remember how much you liked history when we were in school. You were so good at remembering all those dates.”

  “So were you—after I coached you.”

  He made a face. “History. Ugh. Especially European History.”

  “Not exactly the most exciting subject,” she agreed, gazing out her window in time to glimpse two people on horseback ambling along a trail. “But we made it through.”

  “Yep, I owe my passing grade in Mrs. Clemson’s history class to you.” His expression brightened. “The car repair class was a different story. That was something we both could get into.”

  “Uh-huh. Remember that old Ford someone towed in that Mr. Callahan said belonged to a movie star who was passing through town? And when the car quit on him he abandoned it?”

  Rory laughed. “Yeah. And you and I fixed it. That was a sweet old car. Wonder what ever happened to it.”

  “Probably in a junkyard somewhere.”

  “I should track it down, add it to my collection.”

  Lacey turned back to him. “You’re really serious about the classic cars, aren’t you?”

  “I am. It’s my calling, like history is yours. My dream is to have a classic car museum, where fans can come to look and to buy, too… Ah, here we are.”

  “Here, where?”

  “The turnoff to Linton Road.”

  “Oh, no, Rory. We don’t want to go there.” Linton Road led to a spot where they often went to be alone.

  “Just enjoy the ride, Lacey, okay?”

  They wound up into the hills, past lighted farmhouses where sensible people had settled in for the night, instead of riding around the countryside with someone…dangerous.

  They rounded a bend, and there stood the tree they’d always parked under: a huge maple silhouetted against the darkening sky, its leaf-laden limbs outstretched like welcoming arms. The property belonged to someone, of course, but no one ever had bothered them when they came here, and she and Rory had considered the spot theirs.

  Rory pulled the car under the tree, leaving the engine idle, a soft hum in the otherwise silent evening.

  She turned to face him. “Rory, why are you doing this?”

  “I wanted you to see the car. Honestly. There’s no one I’d rather share it with than you, Lacey.”

  “Okay, but why come here? We’re not teenagers anymore. The past is the past.”

  “Then we’ll get out.” Rory cut the engine, opened his door and jumped out. He came around, pulled open her door and held out his hand.

  Lacey stared at his hand but didn’t move. Not that she didn’t trust him. She was the one she worried about.

  “Lacey?”

  With a resigned sigh, she grasped his hand and stepped from the car. A path circled the tree and then wandered off into the grassland, with the foothills and mountains in the distance.

  “I come up here often.” Rory drew her forward in a slow, easy walk. “This is a good place to think. But I’ve never brought anyone else up here. This is our place.”

  “Was,” she corrected, as she fell into step beside him.

  “Is,” he said, just as emphatically.

  “We can’t go back, Rory. You know that.”

  “I know. But who says we can’t go forward? When you came into the shop the other day and we were working together on your car, something inside me snapped, and I thought later, look at all you’ve lost in the past ten years.”

  “What happened wasn’t our fault.”

  “That’s just it. Not our fault. Why should we be punished for what our parents did?”

  Or did not do. But she kept that thought to herself. “We were young…”

  “And we did what we were told. But I don’t want to go there.”

  “What do you want, then?” Her heart beat faster as she waited for his answer.

  They’d reached the tree. Rory clasped her shoulders and turned her around. “What I want right now is this.”

  His eyes focused on her mouth, and then he leaned nearer. His body heat, his scent, surrounded her, filling her with memories—and desire. She closed her eyes just as his lips touched hers in a gentle kiss. After a few moments, he pulled her close and deepened the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair.

  He trailed kisses across her cheek. “Oh, Lacey. Oh, honey, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, but—” she gently pushed against his chest, carving some distance between them “—but this is too much, after—”

  “After ten years? We have a lot of time to make up for.” He laughed softly and leaned toward her again.

  She kept her hands firm against his chest. “No, Rory.”

  He sobered and drew back. “What’s wrong? Oh, I get it. You’re involved with someone in Boise.”

  “No, I’m not. But what about you?”

  “There’ve been others. But none to take your place.”

  “Oh, Rory, don’t talk that way. There’s no future for us.” Breaking away, she started walking back to the car.

  He caught up with her. “There can be. Look. Once we get rid of that house, everything will change. You’ll see. ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”

  She whirled. “So, we’re back to that. When will you understand that the fate of the house is not mine to decide?”

  “Your grandmother would listen to you if you said you wanted it gone.”

  Lacey propped her hands on her hips. “Oh, really? Well, then, you don’t know my grandmother. She has a mind of her own. Can we please go? I told Gram I’d be back in thirty minutes, and we’re way over that now.” She turned and marched toward the car.

  “Sure, sure.” He raced ahead of her and opened the passenger door.

  Without meeting his eyes, she plopped down on the seat.

  All the way back to Riverview she sat with her arms folded. He didn’t try to make conversation and neither did she. But when they pulled into the driveway, she turned to him. “I’m sorry for the way things turned out.”

  He stopped at the front door and shifted the gearshift. “This evening or ten years ago?”

  She lowered her gaze. “Both.”

  “Me, too. But tonight—well, I got to show you my car, anyway.”

  She had to smile. “You did. And a beautiful car it is.”

  *

  LACEY HEADED UP the walk to the entrance of the Silver River Historical Museum at exactly ten o’clock, ready for her appointment with Del Ford, the museum’s director. Of all her interviews, she looked forward to this one the most.

  As far as her personal quest was concerned, she had no idea whether or not Del Ford could offer any help, but she’d be on the alert for any pertinent information.

  Once inside the museum, she felt immediately at home. In school, when the other kids groaned about a field trip to a museum, Lacey cheered. Her interest led to being a history major in college and then to the position with the Boise Historical Society.

  Del, a fiftyish man with white hair and matching mustache, stood behind the counter talking to a couple with two teenagers. While t
he kids played with their phones, the parents watched Del trace a route on a map spread on the counter.

  Del gave Lacey a smile and a nod, and then went back to his guests.

  Lacey wandered around, noting new exhibits since she’d been there last. A display of old fountain pens caught her eye, and one of World War II memorabilia. She took out her camera and snapped a few pictures.

  The front doorbell tinkled, signaling the family’s departure. Del put away the map and ambled over to Lacey.

  “So you’re working on Silver River Days,” he said, hitching up his slacks and smoothing his Hawaiian print shirt over his stomach. “Does that mean you’re moving back to town?”

  “No, just helping Elton Watts while I’m getting Gram settled at Riverview.”

  “Heard about her accident. I thought she’d move to Boise to live near you. My son wants me to come to Milton, now Sybil’s gone, but I don’t want to give up my job here.”

  “You really like the museum, don’t you?”

  “I like old stuff.”

  “I do, too.”

  “I figured. You work for a museum in Boise, right?”

  “Ah, right.” She told him a little about her work. She didn’t mention she had given up her job to take the one Elton had offered.

  “Sounds interesting,” he said. “Well, let me show you around our place.” He led her through the exhibits in the main room, which included artifacts from the area’s early pioneers and the tools used for silver and gold mining.

  “Gotta show you our new wing,” Del said. “Not exactly new, but renovated.” He stopped at a wide doorway and gestured to the pile of lumber and empty display cases lined against one wall. “This is now known as the Trenton Wing. You know the family? ’Course you do. Everyone knows the Trentons, even though Cora’s the only one left.”

  Lacey made a note on her tablet. “I remember when George Trenton was mayor. I was in high school and our history class took a field trip to his office. They had a son named Calvin, right?”

  Del nodded, and led her into the room. “George and Cal are both gone now. George died of a heart attack, and Cal had a brain tumor.” He grimaced. “Bad enough for Cora when George died, but then to lose her only child, too. She had such high hopes that Cal would follow in his father’s footsteps and carry on the Trenton name.”