Flight of Fancie Page 9

  Her imagination drifted to cool, crisp mornings, walking through fallen leaves, the scent of wood smoke and earth, and a chance to be anyone she wanted to be—even her old self. A smile pulled across her face and she settled back in the seat, letting out a breath. All she needed now was the actual job offer.

  Chapter Ten

  “I still don’t understand why you have to run off to New Hampshire when you have a perfectly good job offer right here.” Her father stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

  “Because it’s time for me to leave home, Daddy.”

  “What’s so terrible about being at home with a family who loves you? If anybody should be run out of town, it’s that jerk, Wellington.”

  Fancie zipped her soft-side bag shut and dropped it onto the floor, then sat on the bed. “This isn’t about Graham. I know it might seem that way. And there’s nothing wrong with home. Why do you think I’ve never felt the need to move out sooner? But, Daddy….” She patted the comforter beside her and her father sat down. Fancie took hold of his hand. “I love you and Mama and Tripp—my whole family—more than anything. I am who I am because of all of you. Quail Hill will always be my home. And I’ll be back at Christmas.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I know, but I’m gonna miss my little girl.”

  She grinned. “I haven’t been a little girl for a very long time.”

  Her father leaned over and kissed her temple. “You’ll always be my little girl.”

  Despite her efforts to stave them off, tears stung her eyes. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the familiar spice and oak scent of his aftershave. She wanted to carry that with her.

  Tripp appeared in the doorway. “Hey, Fancie. I’ll take your bags down to the car.”

  “Thanks.” She paused. “Daddy, can I talk with Tripp for a minute alone?”

  “Sure.” Her father gave her another hug. “I’ll be downstairs with your Mama, trying to explain why I couldn’t talk you out of this.”

  When she was alone with her brother, Fancie stood and faced him. “Tripp, you’ve got to step up to the plate. It’s time to grow up.”

  “Jeez, am I going to hear about New Orleans for the rest of my life?”

  “Yes, if that’s what it takes. You’re downplaying how serious that could have been. The last place you want to get into a bar fight is in New Orleans. You could have done jail time. That would kill Mama and Daddy. What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothin’. Just sowin’ wild oats, as Bitsy would say.” He picked up her duffle and large suitcase.

  “I’m worried about you. Every time you’re with Pike Webber, you get into trouble.”

  He grimaced. “Now you sound like Mama. Pike and I have been friends since grade school.”

  “And the two of you have been getting into trouble since grade school.” She stepped forward and pressed her palms atop his broad shoulders. “You’re not kids any more. Don’t do something stupid that lands you in jail. Or worse.”

  He grinned and kissed her forehead. “Heard and noted. Now, you leavin’ or what? You wait long enough, it’ll be too late to start out today.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  At the door, he stopped and looked back. “Be careful. And if anybody gives you grief, call me. I’ll kick their butt for you.”

  “Didn’t we just discuss…?”

  “Yeah, yeah. But you know what I’m sayin’.”

  “I know. I love you, too, baby brother.”

  She turned and gave her bedroom one more sweep with her eyes. She picked up her purse and the several pages of notes and directions Luke had sent. The stained glass butterfly ornament in the window caught the sun, sending shards of light across the walls. Fancie reached up and removed the chain from the nail and held the leaded glass in her hand. It was warm to her touch. She gently slipped the sun catcher into the last small box and headed down the stairs.

  Even though all of her friends and family had gathered the evening before for a going away party in her honor, the driveway was crowded with vehicles and people mingled on the lawn. Her mother stood on the porch and pulled her into a tight embrace. “You be careful and call me every time you stop along the way.”

  “I’ll call, Mama. And I’ll be fine. You and Daddy really didn’t have to buy me a new car, you know.” She nodded toward the brand new Ford Edge SUV. “My car was fine.”

  “We researched and found this one has all-wheel drive. They get a lot of snow in New Hampshire. And this is bigger than your Honda.”

  “Plus it’s American made,” her father added.

  Fancie hugged him, whispering in his ear, “I didn’t need a new car.”

  He whispered back, “No, but your mother needed for you to have this one. Just go with it.”

  After hugs and kisses were exchanged and tears wiped away, Fancie slid into the driver’s seat and took a deep breath. She had programmed the GPS the evening before. With one last smile and wave, she pulled from the driveway and headed into the next phase of her life. She envisioned a butterfly shrugging off its chrysalis and spreading its wings.

  ~

  Her plan was to push through to Roanoke, Virginia—about a ten hour drive—and stop for the night. She had almost eleven hours to drive the next day. Rain began to fall as she crossed into Tennessee and lasted until she hit Knoxville. She had called her mother twice when she stopped for gas and food. At 9:00 p.m., her phone trilled from the seat beside her. She fumbled for it, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. “Hello?”

  “Are you all right?” her mother asked.

  “Fine. I’m about half an hour out of Roanoke. Rain slowed me down for a while.”

  “It’s getting late and it must be dark. You should stop somewhere now.”

  “I’m fine, Mama. But I can’t talk while I’m driving. There’s traffic. I’ll call as soon as I get to a motel.”

  “You should have let one of your cousins drive with you and fly back.”

  “Mama, I’m okay. I’ll call you soon.”

  “Stay safe.”

  “I will.” She dropped the phone back onto the seat, watching for her exit to Roanoke. Relief drew the tension from her shoulders when she saw the exit and the lights of several motels. She settled on a Holiday Inn Express right off the interstate. She had packed the small duffle so she wouldn’t have to open the trunk and unload the car completely for her overnight stop. Grabbing the bag, her purse and laptop, she headed into the lobby. Before going up to her room, she purchased snacks and bottled water from the vending machines, grateful she’d stopped for dinner a few hours earlier.

  After a quick call back to her mother and another to her cousins, she showered, dressed in a pair of cotton boxer shorts and a tee shirt, and fired up her laptop. The last email she had received from Luke had stated he would be leaving again by August fourth to visit his family and then to return south for his research. She had introduced him by phone to her parents who offered him hospitality, should he want to visit eastern Mississippi. Though she’d told him she planned to arrive on the fifth, she was sure he’d be gone by the time she got to Henniker tomorrow night.

  She shut down the laptop and crawled in between the soft, cool sheets. When she stretched, her muscles tensed, then relaxed. Butterflies filled her dreams.

  The bedside alarm jangled her awake at seven-thirty. After a quick continental breakfast in the café off the hotel lobby, she checked out and got back on the highway. “Henniker, New Hampshire, here I come.”

  She was exhausted but making good time until she got off the highway at Hartford to get gas and something to drink and got all turned around. Next thing she knew, she was headed south toward Waterbury again. The GPS admonished her. She sneered at the condescending voice—“Recalculating.” Trying to remain calm, she did another turn around and, this time, drove past the Hartford exits. A longer than anticipated rest stop to stretch her legs at an outlet shopping mall set her behind schedule. But she was enjoyi
ng this trip on her own.

  The last vestige of daylight disappeared as she got back onto the highway. The GPS instructed her to turn onto 9 East toward Keene. The road was narrow, dark and lonely. She was glad she’d filled the gas tank and used the restroom not that long ago. Forty-five minutes later, she saw the sign: Welcome to Henniker, and she nearly cried with relief.

  It was close to midnight when she found Luke’s address and pulled into the empty driveway. A cool breeze greeted her as she climbed out of the car and stretched. A motion-sensitive light flashed on in welcome. Her mother had told her earlier that the temperature hit ninety-nine in Mississippi that afternoon. August in New Hampshire was much more pleasant. Fishing the key from her purse, she grabbed her duffle and laptop bag and climbed the steps to the wraparound porch and front door. The key slid easily into the lock and the door swung open. A small lamp on a table inside the door cast a pale gold beam across the polished hardwood floor.

  Fancie smiled at Luke’s thoughtfulness, but then realized the lamp was plugged into a timer and probably came on every night at the same time. She closed the door and bolted it behind her. She glanced at the staircase against the wall to her right and peered into the large living room to her left. At the end of the hallway ahead lay the kitchen where another light over the sink casting a warm glow.

  The soles of her sneakers squeaked on the polished wood floors. She stood in the kitchen for a moment, trying to get her bearings. Opening cabinets, she finally located the glasses and filled one with tap water. She drank and refilled the glass to carry it upstairs.

  As she turned, she noticed another door that led into a formal dining room. And that opened into the living room. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light as she tiptoed through one room to the next. When she emerged back into the front hall, a man shouted and loomed over her, wielding a baseball bat.

  Fancie screamed and dropped the glass, sending shards in every direction. The man also screamed and then dropped the bat and hopped backwards, holding up one foot. He hit a light switch on the wall.

  “Jesus, I could have killed you.”

  Luke stood clad in only a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts, cradling his foot and removing a splinter of glass. Yapping and scratching sounded from beyond the top of the stairs. Barney was not happy to be confined and unable to protect his master.

  Fancie pressed fingertips over her racing heart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were leaving today.”

  “I thought you were arriving tomorrow.” He dropped down onto the stairs and pulled his foot up onto his other knee. “Could you get some paper towels from the kitchen?”

  “Of course.” She backed away from the puddle on the floor and returned with an entire roll of towels. “Let me help.”

  “I’ve got it. Maybe you can mop up the water so it doesn’t mark the floor? Be careful of the glass, though.”

  She dropped a large wad of paper towels onto the puddle and watched it absorb the spill. “Do you have a broom and dust pan?”

  Luke applied pressure to his wound. “Inside the pantry, through the kitchen.”

  Once paper towels had sopped up the water and she’d swept up the glass, she stood over Luke. “I really am sorry.”

  He stood on his heel with his right foot elevated. “No, it’s my fault. I should have told you I was running late. I do that a lot. Run late, that is. I’m terrible at keeping to a schedule.”

  “Do you need a Band-Aid?” she asked.

  “I think the bleeding stopped. It wasn’t much of a cut.” He pressed down on his foot and then lifted it to check. “See. No more blood.”

  “I should vacuum the floor to make sure I got everything. Don’t want Barney walking through bits of glass.”

  “Not tonight. It’s late. I’ll be extra careful. And Barney won’t be back down here before morning.” He picked up the baseball bat and leaned it in the corner next to the door. “I keep this here for security, though I’ve never had reason to use it. Until now.”

  Despite her efforts, Fancie could not stem the tears that threatened. She was tired, scared, already missing her family, and embarrassed by her entrance.

  Luke frowned. “Oh, hey. No, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m fine. Look.” He did a little dance to demonstrate his feet were both in working order.

  Fancie smiled through the tears. He looked like an oversized leprechaun. A nicely-built leprechaun dancing in only his underwear.

  Luke seemed to arrive at the same conclusion at the same time. He straightened and picked up her bag. “I should show you to your room and let you get some sleep.” He stepped back and waited for her to go ahead of him.

  “This is my room on the left. I thought you might be more comfortable with the larger room down the hall that has a private bath.”

  From behind the closed door, Barney let out a couple of soft ruffs. “It’s okay, Barney. No burglars. Go to sleep.” He opened the door to her room and turned on the light. “I’ll be right back.”

  The room was much larger than she had anticipated. A queen sized sleigh bed covered with a plush floral patterned comforter sat against the wall to her left. The room also held two chests of drawers, a small desk, and an overstuffed chair by a fireplace. A fireplace!

  Luke returned, cinching a bathrobe at his waist. “I hope this is okay. The bathroom is through there.” He nodded toward a door in the wall opposite the bed.

  “Are you kidding me? It’s gorgeous. And so spacious. Are you sure about this? I would think you would get more rent from a room like this.”

  “Not really. The rent’s the same no matter which room. I figured you could use the privacy, especially if you plan to write. There are two other rooms on this floor and one upstairs. I only have two renters so far, so one room can be used for guests. The key on the desk will lock the bedroom door from the outside. There’s a deadbolt lock on the inside. Assures privacy from other renters.”

  “Thank you so much. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome. I had planned to leave today, but had a last minute matter to tend to. I’m not leaving until about nine tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can talk for a bit over breakfast and I can fill you in on anything you’ll need to know about the house and the students who are moving in next week?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Good. Well, I’ll let you get settled. There are fresh linens already on the bed and towels in the bathroom. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  She had just slipped into her pajamas and turned down the bed when Luke knocked on the door. Fancie opened it to find him standing with a glass of water. “I thought you might need a refill.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try not to shatter this one.”

  “I promise not to scare you again. At least not tonight. Sleep well.”

  She stood there smiling for a moment as he walked gingerly down the hall still favoring his right foot. He was so kind and considerate. How had this man remained single?

  She sipped the water before setting the glass on a coaster on the nightstand. When she opened the window, a soft breeze carrying the scent of pine wafted in around her. She lay on the bed, stretched and took in a few deep breaths, letting her body relax. “You sure know how to make an entrance, Francine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Fancie followed the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon to the kitchen. Luke stood at the stove cooking omelets. He turned and smiled. “Good morning. I trust you slept well. No dreams of madmen trying to pummel you to death?”

  “Good morning.” Barney rushed over, sniffing at her ankles and looking up at her. She crouched and ruffled his ears. “Hi there, Barney. Good to see you again.” The little dog put his front paws on her knees and stretched to lick her cheek. She laughed. “No dreams at all. I slept better than I have in a long time. The cool breeze helped. Is it always like this up here in August?”

  He shook his head. “Not always. But we don’t usually get the heat and humidity you have in Mississippi.”
He flipped the omelets. “If you look in that file on the table, you can review the profiles of the two students who will be living here.”

  “You had them fill out a profile?”

  “An application, a profile, and a background check.”

  “And, yet, you allowed five strange women open access to your cottage on Tybee Island. You are a conundrum, Luke Campbell.”

  He laughed. “They weren’t all strange.”

  “Oh, yeah? And which ones were?”

  Setting a plate of toast on the table, he said, “I’m not naming names. You want orange juice?”

  “Sure. I can help.”

  “Great. The juice is in the fridge. Glasses are in the cabinet to the right above the sink.”

  By the time she’d poured their juice, he had set the table with plates of thick omelets, bacon, and fruit.

  “This looks delicious.”

  He went to the back door. “Come on, Barney. Outside for a bit. We don’t need your help with breakfast.” The dog ran to the door, eager to get out. “The back yard is fenced. He can’t go anywhere. And this way, we can eat in peace.”

  While they ate, Luke reviewed the profiles with her. “Maura Lowry rented here last term. She’s a returning renter. She’ll be in the room across the hall from you. Justin Bridgeforth is new. He recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. He’ll be in the third floor room. The attic. I offered him the other second floor room, but he insisted he preferred the attic. Said the stairs were good for him.”

  “Do you plan to rent the last room?”

  “Probably not at this point. If you have family or friends who want to visit, feel free to use it. My room, too, if you need it.”

  “Thank you. How long will you be traveling?”

  “I have to be back here by January when my sabbatical ends. I’m taking your parents up on their offer and staying there from mid-October through December as a home base for my research. You have no idea how helpful that is. So, please don’t worry about rent. If you keep an eye on things here and collect from the other renters, we’ll call it even.” He pulled a sheet of paper from the back of the folder. “You can post this where you’ll be able to find it. It’s a list of people to call in case of emergency—plumber….” He grinned. “…electrician, and the utility company numbers. I left a stack of bank deposit slips on the desk in the den next to my computer for rent deposits. I’ll handle all the bills online.”