Dragonfly Creek Page 8

  “Baby girl, there’s no need to torture yourself like this.” She stepped inside and gently took the dress from Ainsley, then held it up to inspect it. “I always liked this on you. Thought it was flattering.”

  “It was one of my favorites, too,” Ainsley agreed. “But I don’t feel like I’m the same person who wore that. It feels like that was someone else. Someone I watched from a distance.”

  Byrdie hung up the dress, her hand smoothing the fabric down before she closed the sliding doors and stepped back. “You aren’t that same girl, not really. You’re the woman who you were meant to become, the woman you should have been allowed to be all along. That girl would be proud of you.”

  Ainsley clasped the older woman’s hand. “You think so? She’d certainly never believed she’d ever be thin.” She looked down her body—lean muscle and long lines, honed by years of discipline and exercise. Without her mother’s interference, Ainsley had quickly dropped the extra pounds she’d carried throughout her teenage years.

  “Oh, I think she’d be in awe of you. Come on downstairs. Let’s get you some lunch, and you can tell me what kind of progress you’re making. Have you found her papers yet?”

  “No, and that worries me. I’ve looked all over her office. Do you mind helping me after we eat?” she asked as they went downstairs.

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  Ainsley stopped at the foot of the stairs and hugged Byrdie. “And I thank God for you every day. I love you, Byrdie.”

  Byrdie’s smile was warm. “I love you, too, baby girl. Don’t you ever doubt it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben was at the farm, enjoying spending time with his family, when the world shifted on its axis. He, John, and their father, along with John’s sons, were walking back to the house from the barn when John dropped the bombshell on him.

  “How are you liking the new job so far?” Ben asked his brother.

  “I really like it. The work is different, more of a challenge, but in a different way. Speaking of work, though, I met someone Friday who knows you from way back when. Ainsley Brewer. Well, Ainsley Scott now.”

  For a long moment, Ben couldn’t speak. He didn’t realize he’d stopped walking until he saw the worried look on his father’s face. “She’s in town?”

  “She is. Came to settle her mother’s estate. She had a similar reaction when I told her you were my brother.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m surprised she remembers my name. How long is she in town for?”

  “Probably a couple of months. You should go by and see her. She’s staying at her mother’s house.”

  “Shit. I’ve been doing the landscaping up there since the old woman died. I didn’t think she’d come back, though. I never would have taken the job if I thought I’d have to see her.” He rubbed his mouth. “Is her husband with her? Kids?”

  John grimaced. “Ben, her husband died about a year ago. She’s a widow. They didn’t have any kids.”

  Trying to hold his emotions in check was more than Ben could take. Without a word, he turned and headed back to the barn.

  Ainsley had been on his mind more and more of late, invading his dreams and thoughts. The five-year anniversary of their meeting had come and gone a couple of weeks ago, and going through it in Hazard had been more difficult than he’d anticipated. He’d gone to the local honky-tonk to try to get his mind off her, and even though he’d passed the evening in the company of an eager and sexy woman he’d met there, Ainsley plagued him still. In the end, he’d left the overheated brunette at the bar, unable to dredge up the least bit of physical interest in her.

  If he’d had any sense at all five years ago, he would have run like hell when he’d met Ainsley. But he hadn’t had the good sense to know what the future held, and he’d let her lead him blindly along, like a stupid, lovesick fool.

  Remembering that day now as he entered the cool barn, he laughed bitterly. She’d played him like a pro, and he’d been so gullible he hadn’t seen it coming.

  That day in Whitesburg, after Ainsley and her cousin drove away, Ben had stood there awkwardly, looking after them.

  “You okay?” Emma had asked.

  “Yeah. Just distracted.”

  “Uh, yeah. I noticed.” She’d wanted to drive, and Ben was happy to let her because he wanted to think about the girl he’d just spent the afternoon with.

  She was so sweet, funny, and innocently sensual that he’d been tempted to throw her over his shoulder and run away with her. Ainsley Brewer had set his world on its end. She wasn’t model thin, but she was stunning. With golden hair, blue-green eyes, and creamy skin that glowed with peach undertones, she seemed more real than the girls he’d dated. At the same time, she was ethereal and so far out of his reach he hurt just thinking about it.

  “I asked her out,” he confessed to Emma as they sat in traffic, waiting for a train to cross the highway at the bottom of the hill.

  “What’d she say?” Emma rummaged around in the seat behind them. “Where’s my water?”

  “I don’t know. Back there in that rat’s nest somewhere. How is it you’re messier than me, anyhow?”

  She stuck out her tongue at him and kept looking. Emma had become a bottled-water drinker in Savannah, and she carried it with her everywhere. Ben liked to tease her about being a rich girl, but he’d been known to sneak a drink every now and then, too.

  “Got it.” She snagged it just as the train’s caboose crossed the road. They were too far back for Ben to see clearly, but he thought he saw Ainsley’s snazzy red convertible right behind the first car in line.

  “She said she didn’t know if she could get away. I guess she helps her mother or something.”

  Emma leveled a look at him that he knew meant she was getting ready to speak her mind. “Look, I’ve been working with her cousin for two weeks now. He’s a snob. They come from pretty much the richest family in Perry County. I know we’re not holler rats, but do you really think her family’s going to let you date her? And do you really want to get involved with someone like that?”

  “You didn’t meet her long enough to know what she’s like,” he protested as they started moving again. “She seemed very down to earth.”

  His sister clearly had her doubts. “Do you know how much her outfit cost? More than what half my entire wardrobe did, I’ll wager. Let’s not even get into the car itself.”

  “Yeah, well, half of your wardrobe consists of ratty old T-shirts you found at a rummage sale.”

  “Smart ass. You know what I mean.”

  “Brat,” he shot back, making a face at her. They both laughed, though Ben’s ended in a sigh. “I liked the look of her, Em. The sound of her. Hell, you should have seen the way she ate her pie. Just that she ate a piece of pie in front of me was shocking, given how weird girls usually are with food.”

  Emma snorted with laughter. “The way she ate her pie? You’ve got the hots for her because of the way she ate her pie? Oh, Benny, that’s rich.”

  His face flushed. “I should have known you’d make it a joke. I’m serious. There’s something about her.”

  His tone must have gotten through to her, because her amusement faded quickly. “I know. I know you’re serious. And that worries me.”

  “Well, it’s probably a moot point. She probably isn’t for me, and I’ll never see her again. When I’m eighty years old, I’ll look around the nursing home and wonder what happened to that pretty girl who liked coconut cream pie. It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

  He was pretty quiet the rest of the way home, answering Emma’s questions without volunteering anything. Lost in thought, he wondered if he would be seeing Ainsley Brewer again. They came from different worlds. He knew that. But they had so much in common and had conversed so naturally. He wanted to believe there was somethi
ng there, that it hadn’t just been a fluke, because he’d never met anyone else with whom he’d had so instant and deep a connection.

  And he’d wanted the chance to see where that connection would go if it was given a chance. He had thought they both deserved that shot.

  “I should have listened to Emma,” he muttered as he sat down behind the barn on the old oak stump his father had been whittling away at for years. Removing the stump shouldn’t have presented any problems for Owen, and Ben thought his dad liked keeping it around so that he had something to pound on if the need struck.

  Drawing his knees up, he pulled loose a stalk of grass that had gone to seed and twirled it idly between his fingers. He let the warm summer wind move over his body, and with an unfocused gaze, he looked out over the gently sloping meadow and the valley far below. He was reeling with the knowledge that Ainsley was back in town.

  A pair of dragonflies, commonly called snake doctors by the older generation, buzzed gently around him. One landed on his hand, and Ben held perfectly still as the insect sunned itself. Its iridescent wings shimmered in the afternoon sun, and watching it, Ben drifted into the quiet place where time seemed to slow down. His heart slowed, and the sound of his breathing resonated deep in his skull as the air flowed in and out of his lungs. His eyesight changed, and the plant life around him took on a new hue.

  He could see the pollen and sweetness wafting across the breeze from the wildflowers his mother had planted on the sloping hill beside the barn. The purple dreaminess of the lupine essence mixed with the sunny black-eyed Susans, creating a haze of warm, sensual air that drifted along a few feet above the ground. The cloud had a luminescent sparkle that soothed Ben. In the woods, along an old fence, honeysuckle grew wildly. The perfumed cloud that lingered there winked at him like fireflies after dark. Its pure, sweet fragrance swept away some of his distress. Closing his eyes, Ben eased out of the shifted reality.

  He’d been eight when he’d first discovered his ability. When he’d asked his mother what the colorful cloud that was drifting across the meadow was, Sarah had been at a loss. Ben had almost cried when he figured out that she couldn’t see things the way he did.

  The ability had stumped his father, which in turn seemed to amuse his mother. Owen prided himself, and rightfully so, on being something of an expert in the area of paranormal abilities. But he hadn’t been able to figure out Ben’s affinity with plants.

  “I think there’s something special in the Browning line,” Owen had told Sarah quietly that night on the porch, after the kids had gone to bed. Ben had come back downstairs for a glass of water, and he’d shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation. “I’m not the only one here who has genes that are not quite normal.”

  His mother had laughed softly, and Ben could easily picture them sitting side-by-side on the porch swing, snuggled into one another. “You think so, huh? You might be right. Oh, I wish you could have seen his face when he was describing it to me, Owen. It sounded so magical, so wonderful.”

  “I can imagine. Think this means he’s a shifter, too?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s special.”

  “All our babies are special.”

  “Yes, they are. I can’t imagine life without them.” The sound of a soft kiss followed. “I have to admit, I’m a little jealous. I’d like to see the world through his eyes, just once or twice. It sounds enchanting.”

  Ben had sneaked back upstairs then, all warm and gooey inside at the realization that his parents didn’t think he was a freak.

  Over the years, he’d honed the ability, which his mother lovingly called his “flower power.” He and Owen still hadn’t been able to figure out where it came from, but Ben had learned to put it to good use. He could tell when a plant needed more or less water or needed to be moved from the sun to the shade. He didn’t have to read the label to determine those needs. He just needed to touch the plant. And plants simply grew better when he was around—not enough that it made people suspicious, but enough that his mother quickly learned to ask for his help with the garden every year.

  Working with plants soothed him, and deciding to go into horticulture had been an easy decision. He’d known since his early teens that this was what he wanted to do. It took him a little longer to figure out exactly what area of agriculture he wanted to work in. He liked the work he’d been doing in Georgia, but it didn’t challenge him anymore, hence the decision to pursue the degree in landscape architecture.

  When he’d broken up with Ainsley, or rather when she’d broken up with him, he’d lost the finer points of his ability for several months. It simply hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been able to clear his mind enough to get into the deep quiet he needed to be in to see the magic in plants.

  He’d struggled mightily to overcome that blockage, and once he had, he’d locked away a part of himself so that he wouldn’t risk that kind of exposure again. It had been a conscious decision at the time, but he hadn’t been able to undo it. No matter how much he wanted to open his heart, he couldn’t. It was as though he’d let Ainsley steal that trust and innocence necessary for total commitment.

  He’d honestly been surprised she remembered his name. Leaning back so that he could get to his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and thumbed through the dividers to the last one in the folio. He didn’t take out the black-and-white photo, but stared down at it, remembering the night it was taken. They’d gone to a festival in Jackson, where an old photo booth was set up. They’d waited in line for nearly twenty minutes for their turn. Ben had carefully divided the strip of four pictures. He’d kept two pictures, and Ainsley had kept two.

  They’d consummated their relationship that night, in the backseat of her car. It was his first time, and he had truly felt then that Ainsley was the only woman he would ever want to be with. She had also been a virgin, and they’d fumbled through the steps, learning their way around each other’s bodies.

  Not long after that, everything changed. He hadn’t heard from Ainsley in days. She’d missed four of their running dates, which they’d scheduled ahead of time. Because of her mother’s strictness and disapproval, he couldn’t just call to find out where she’d been. Finally, terrified that something had happened to her, Ben had gone to her house on a Tuesday morning, when he knew her mother had a chamber of commerce meeting. He’d taken a chance Ainsley would be there alone.

  She hadn’t been there at all. Her mother was, though, as was a somber black lady in a maid’s uniform. She’d let him in, then seated him in the living room while she went to get Geneva Brewer. Ben hadn’t been able to sit still, though, and he’d sprung up from the couch to pace as he waited.

  He didn’t hear the wheelchair approach, and her words startled him.

  “So you’re the one.”

  He spun around, swallowing nervously. “Ma’am?”

  “Ainsley’s little boyfriend. Oh, you didn’t think I knew about you, did you?” She had correctly interpreted the shock on his face. “Son, I’ve known about you since the day she met you in the library the first time. I know everything that goes on in this town, especially in my own family.” She rolled farther into the room.

  Ben didn’t know what to say. In her eyes, pity mixed with triumph. Given that and what he’d gleaned from Ainsley about her mother, he figured the pity was fake.

  “Ma’am. Where’s Ainsley?”

  She sighed and picked up the small envelope she’d been holding on her lap. She held it out to him. “Take it.”

  Warily, Ben took the thick, heavy, expensive stationary envelope. Its front was blank.

  “I know you think you had some glorious love affair with my daughter this summer, but the fact is, you were one last fling before she settled down. I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Ainsley was married over the weekend. She’s been engaged since April.”

  The
words made no sense. None. Ben shook his head. “You’re lying.”

  She waved a hand. “Open the envelope. Read her note. I told her you wouldn’t believe me.”

  Cheeks flushed, he struggled to open the missive, tearing the paper. The note inside was brief and devastating.

  Ben,

  By the time you read this, I’ll probably be on my honeymoon. I’m terribly sorry I wasn’t honest with you this summer, but I was having such fun, I didn’t know how to confess without ending things.

  Doug is a good man. We had a little spat shortly before you and I met, and I am ashamed to admit, I used you as a weapon to get back at him.

  You’re a very sweet person, but there was never a chance of anything developing between us more than what we had. The last couple of weeks have been a little awkward, if you want the truth.

  I’m sorry for ending things this way. Time snuck up on me, and I had to leave to prepare for the wedding before I had a chance to explain in person. I hope you can forgive me for that.

  I’m sure that you’ll find a girl closer to your own station in life, and you and she will have a life filled with love and happiness.

  Thank you for a memorable summer.

  Ainsley Brewer Scott

  “No. No, this is a lie. You made her write this. It’s a lie,” he shouted, shaking the paper in Geneva’s face. “What did you do to her? Where is she?”

  Geneva just handed him a folded newspaper. It was opened to the society section, dated two days earlier. A picture of a smiling Ainsley in the arms of a handsome man looked up at him. The picture was accompanied by the announcement of their marriage.

  Even still, he didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. He opened the paper, looking it over to make sure it hadn’t been faked. As much as he wanted to doubt the story, it was real. The woman he loved, whom he’d given his heart to without reservation, had married someone else. The paper fell from his hands, drifting to the floor with a whisper of sound. The note had fallen with it, and he bent to pick it up. He smoothed it out, swallowing hard against his grief.