My dear, Trey and I were close from the diaper stage on. Lydia smiled, but her mind seemed focused elsewhere. Our mothers were best friends. Supposedly Trey kissed me in the sandbox at age two, and I boxed his ears.
You must have been surprised when he married so suddenly.
Lydia considered, her head tilted to one side. Not surprised that he rebelled against his father, no. Just a bit surprised that his rebellion took that form.
Corrie blinked. My aunt said She stopped, not sure she wanted to repeat what Aunt Ella had saidthat Trey had taken one look at Gracie and fallen head over heels in love.
There he is. Lydia nodded to the wall above the staircase, and Corrie realized she meant the portrait that hung there. Trey Manning, painted on his eighteenth birthday.
This wasnt the laughing, jeans-clad figure of her faded photograph. This was a golden boy, someone who had the world in the palm of his hand and the confidence that went with it. He stood erect, hand placed carelessly on the back of a chair, staring at the artist with something she could only call arrogance. She thought she preferred the photo.
She had to say something. Im surprised its here, rather than in Baxters house.
Lydia was turned toward the portrait, so Corrie couldnt see her face. It very nearly wasnt anywhere. Baxter told Mrs. Andrews to burn it.
Burn it! How could any father want to burn his sons portrait? Why?
Anger. Sheer, unadulterated anger at Trey for disappointing him. Luckily Mrs. Andrews had sense enough to tell Eulalie, who came to me. I rescued it. I thought someday hed want it back, but he never has.
She didnt need to ask what the disappointment was. Obviously Baxter hadnt wanted his son to marry an insignificant waitress when all of Savannah society was his for the taking.
She could add up two and two as well as the next person. Lydia had been right. Baxter had sent her here to push his family into doing his bidding with the threat of a new potential heir. Even if he became convinced she was Treys child, hed never welcome her.
Lydia swung back to face her. I hope that doesnt put a bad taste in your mouth. Baxters all rightone just has to know how to handle him. That was something Trey never mastered. He needed a wife who could do it for him.
Meaning my mother couldnt?
Im afraid she was too unhappy during her marriage to handle anyone.
Unhappy? My aunt said that she and Trey were deliriously happy.
Did she? Lydias voice was gentle. Well, perhaps thats what she wanted to believe. I saw them both from the time they came back to this house. Oh, Trey put on a good front. Hed defied his father at last and gotten away with it, I suppose he thought. Grace knew better. She knew their marriage was destined to fail from the moment they got here.
The rest of Lydias tour went over Corries head as she struggled with that careless comment. When she was finally out in the garden again, she walked slowly toward Baxters house, mind preoccupied.
Aunt Ella had emphasized one thing clearly, in spite of her faltering speech after the strokehow happy Gracie had been. That had been the only thing that reconciled her to the sudden marriage that she knew would take Gracie away from her.
Poor Aunt Ella. Shed had no one else. Her parents dead, her only brother killed in Vietnam, leaving his daughter for Ella to raise when his wife drifted off into the hippie subculture. Ella had given all her love to Gracie, and later, to Gracies daughter,
Now Lydia claimed the love Aunt Ella saw between Gracie and Trey wasnt trueor at least, that her mothers happiness had vanished by the time she arrived in Savannah. What would it have taken them to drive from Wyoming to Savannah? Three days, four? How could all that newlywed joy have been gone already?
Ms. Grant? Mrs. Andrews stepped out of the garden door, shading her eyes with one hand. There was a message for you. Mr. Courtlands secretary called, and they need you to come to their office right away.
She didnt answer until shed covered the space between them, having no wish to advertise her business to anyone who happened to be around.
Did he say what he wanted?
No, maam. Just the secretary, saying please stop by this morning. Do you want me to call a taxi for you?
How far away is it?
Not that far. Lucass voice had her spinning around to face him. He stood on the path that led to his house. Ill walk with you and show you the way.
Another tête-à-tête with Lucas was the last thing she wanted, with the memory of the previous nights emotion fresh in her mind. His face showed no discomfort at all. Had he forgotten so quickly?
Thanks anyway. Im sure I can find the office on my own if Mrs. Andrews will give me directions. But Mrs. Andrews had disappeared back into the house, apparently feeling that her duty was done.
You wouldnt want me to think you dont enjoy my company, would you? Lucas touched her arm, gesturing toward the gate in the wall that led onto the street. Ill show you a bit of Savannah while we walk.
Her impulse was to prolong the argument, but that would make his presence into too big a deal. Instead she stepped through the gate and onto the sidewalk, determined to ignore him as much as possible.
Then she paused. Maybe I should change clothes. I keep forgetting that you people dress a lot more formally than Im used to.
Lucass amber gaze slid from her violet challis top to her white slacks. You look fine, he said, closing the gate behind them. What do you think of Savannah so far? Or have you been here before?
Ive never been east until this trip. All I know comes from the guidebook I read on the plane. They crossed the street to the square. I did read about the squares, of course.
The citys founder had laid it out around a series of squares, with houses, public buildings and churches grouped around themquiet oases in the midst of a busy city, the guidebook had said. Now she understood what the book had meant. Tree branches met overhead, and the traffic suddenly seemed faraway. She and Lucas might have been alone in the country.
Lucas gestured toward a row of white brick town houses, each with an intricate wrought-iron railing leading up to a glossy black door. The wrought iron is characteristic. Kind of reminds you of New Orleans, doesnt it?
I wouldnt know. Corrie smiled, realizing theyd embarked on yet another fencing match. Ive never been farther south than St. Louis. As I think I mentioned.
His eyes acknowledged the point. Savannah is one of the most livable cities in the country and one of the most historic. We aim to keep it that way.
We?
We, as in native Savannahians. You wont find people more devoted to their heritage. It takes quite a few generations to really belong.
A point to him. Obviously she would never belong, any more than her mother had. She thought again of what Lydia had said, realizing she was beginning to feel protective of that young Gracie, as if she were a younger sister instead of her mother.
You cant walk a step in Savannah without tripping over history and legend, so mixed up together you cant tell which is which. Lucas had continued his own train of thought. He stopped in front of the monument in the center of the square. A case in point.
Corrie looked up at the citys founder, James Oglethorpe, sword in hand, cast in bronze.
Facing the enemy. Lucass voice was soft in her ear.
What? For an instant she thought he meant her, as if the founder of Savannah himself would take a sword to this interloper.
Oglethorpe. Hes facing south, because his enemies were the Spaniards in Florida. What did you think I meant?
Nothing. She shouldnt let this get to her. Thanks for the history lesson.
Any time, sugar. Theres nothing a native enjoys more than talking about his city.
She looked at him, curious at the feeling in his voice. You sound as if youre in love with it.
Not it. Her. Savannah is always a female. A faded, genteel Southern lady with just enough eccentricity to make her charming.
Not the place for a forthright Westerner, obviously. Maybe that was why her mother had been unhappy. Shed known from the beginning shed never belong.
Corrie turned away, and a flight of pigeons took off from the square with a rustle of wings. If she let Lucas make her uncomfortable with every other word, she was in for a very long visit.
How much farther is it? Maybe she should have argued a bit more about coming alone. She could have walked along and indulged her own thoughts, instead of being constantly on her guard.
Its this way. Lucas took her hand as if she were a child who needed guiding. No, not a child, she corrected. There was nothing parental about the way his fingers interlaced with hers. She pulled her hand free.
Lucas smiled. The office is on Broughton Street. That was the main shopping street of town before the malls wiped it out. Its starting to come back now.
When theyd walked another block to the corner, she saw what he meant. The busy commercial street had a few empty storefronts, but it also boasted the sort of shops usually found in upscale malls. People thronged the sidewalks.
Is Saturday a big shopping day? She dodged a large man with a camera who walked backward, focusing.
Tourists. Its June, and theyre out in force. A bus must have just unloaded. He nodded to the crosswalk. We cross here, and then we should be clear of them. Courtlands office is just down the street.
However, the mob of tourists had apparently decided to go in the same direction, gathering ready to cross as soon as the light changed.
Corrie balanced on the edge of the curb. Even the busy shopping area had its Southern charm, with the gold-embossed plate glass windows of what had probably been old-fashioned department stores now displaying the latest in sportswear.
A bus whizzed by, close enough to the curb to send a blast of hot air in her face. She tried to step back, but people formed a solid mass around her, as if they were afraid theyd never get across the street unless they were first in line.
Annoyed, she turned to look for Lucas. The crowd pushed forward, catching her off balance. She threw out her arms, trying to right herself, just as a shiny sports car accelerated, the driver obviously intent on making it through on the yellow light.
One instant she was safe, her foot hugging the curb. The next a strong shove in her back sent her plunging helplessly into the street, directly into the path of the oncoming car.