Song of Life Read online

  * * * *

  Sunny studied him carefully. He was young and strong and still smiling at her. He made no attempt to move closer to the truck, but stood hipshot, his hands still spread wide, his whole attitude telling her how harmless he was. But looks could be deceiving. He could be a serial killer for all she knew. His jeans were tight and whitened with age. One knee was torn out–she was pretty sure it wasn’t a fashion statement. The blue jean jacket, tied by its arms at his waist, looked to be in much the same shape. A dark green tank left his arms bare. Muscles rippled as he finally lowered his hands, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans.

  “I’m not looking for any trouble, nor to cause any either. I just want to earn enough money to get a room for the night and some food in my belly.”

  “I’m Sunny Douglas, this here’s my place. You got a name?”

  “People call me Cas.”

  “Cas? That’s all? Most folks have at least a couple of names.”

  He hesitated. “Cas’ll do for now.”

  She wasn’t close enough to gauge the expression in his eyes or even to know their color. Dark though, he had dark eyes and dark, fly away hair that curled around his strong neck and fell over his forehead in little ringlets.

  “If I hire someone,” she said briskly, making her decision from gut instinct and nothing of logical thinking, “I need to know more about them than just a nickname.”

  He looked around again. “I could do a lot here.”

  “There’s a lot needs doing. At the Inn too. I can keep you busy for as long as you like. One thing though. If you start a job, I need for you to finish it. And I need to know more about you than that people call you Cas. A last name would be a good start.”

  “Ma’am, may I come closer?”

  She lifted the rifle from its rack and drew it to her through the truck window, checking the safety, resting it on one arm, barrel pointed down. She smiled. “Sure. I hope you won’t take it personal if I’m just a bit careful.”

  “No, ma’am, sure won’t.” He shrugged out of his backpack and set it on the ground. He only moved as far as the bed of the truck, leaning an elbow on it and studying her as she had studied him.

  * * * *

  She held the rifle like she knew how to use it. He didn’t doubt that she did. It did a lot to negate her smallness. It was hard to pin down her age. She was a pretty little thing but there were fine lines around her eyes from laughter and sun, and a subtle softening along her jaw despite her wiriness. Her dark blond hair exploded out of some sort of hair clip that was meant to hold it on top of her head, giving her added height and accentuating her rather angular features. Her pale blue eyes never left his face.

  “You talk our talk,” she said, “but you don’t have the accent. Where you from?”

  Once again he hesitated. How much information was too much?

  “The jobs I’ve worked, they were sort of kept on a casual basis. They paid me in cash and we kept Uncle Sam out of it. I figure I’m saving the government money that way.” He smiled in an attempt to ease her suspicions. “They’d just have to give it all back to me come tax time. I was hoping you could do the same.”

  “You running? You broken the law?”

  “I’ve broken no laws,” Cas replied, ignoring the first part of the question. “I just don’t want to be found, that’s all.”

  She studied him some more, her expression unsure.

  “Look, it’s personal. I swear I’m not in any trouble with the law, not anywhere.”

  “I’ll take your word on that,” Sunny said slowly, “but you need to give me something too. I don’t know you from Adam, do I? I’ll keep what you say in confidence, if that’s what you want, but I got to know for my own peace of mind.”

  There was something about her…instinctively he knew he could trust her word. He broke one of the rules he had set for himself many years ago. He told her his true name.

  “My legal name is Casimiro Martin,” he said reluctantly. “I’ve worked my way from California.”

  “On the run,” she said softly.

  His body stiffened. All he wanted was a way to earn a bit of money. Didn’t matter if it was sweeping floors or washing dishes. She didn’t need to know his whole life story to get her floors swept, did she?

  “Like I said, it’s personal.” He struggled to keep his voice relaxed and easy.

  She was silent, her gaze searching his face.

  “Sounds like you got problems and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

  “Any problems I got are my own. They don’t affect the work I do.”

  “Still, I believe I’d be more comfortable discussing this somewhere else. You come to the Inn tomorrow morning. It’s called the Crossroads, you can’t miss it. We’ll hammer out the terms to your employment. If you still want to work for me, that is.”

  “I’ll find it. I’ll be there. You got any problems with me camping here tonight?”

  She glanced over at the old house, almost hidden in its honeysuckle.

  “Not much to be stolen around here anymore.”

  He was a lot of things, but he’d never stolen anything in his life. “I’m no thief. No need to insult me.”

  “No, you’re just a wandering man, right? No job, no place of residence, nothing to make you acceptable to law abiding citizens but your word on it.”

  “My word’s good.”

  “Fine. We’ll see, won’t we? You just back off now and I’ll be going. You ask for Sunny Douglas at the Inn tomorrow morning and we’ll go from there.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t blame you for being leery of a stranger. And I need money, so we’ll do it your way. But I don’t like being judged badly when all I’ve done is stand here and ask for work. You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “Well, you see Cas, that’s just it. I don’t know a thing about you. We’ll see if we can’t remedy that tomorrow. You have my permission to sleep in the house if you so desire, it can get cold here at night. No fires though. I don’t know when those flues were last cleaned.”

  “One of my jobs, I suppose,” he said ruefully, and backed away to his pack.

  “You’re a mite big for flue climbing, I’d think, but we’ll see. I’ll make up a list tonight. If you show tomorrow, we’ll go from there.”

  “I’ll show.” He looked unfocused into the distance, to the mountains breathing smoky mist and the eggshell blue of the sky above them. “I like it here, I like these mountains. I’d like to stay awhile.”

  Sunny walked around the front of the truck, keeping her eye on him. She didn’t put the rifle down until she was settled behind the wheel, with the doors locked and the truck turned on. She made a neat three point turn then brought the truck to a halt beside Cas, speaking to him out the half raised window.

  “Eight o’clock. Check with Martha at the front desk, she’ll know where I’m at.”

  He gave her a little salute and stood watching as the truck made its way slowly down the rutted drive, its tail lights flashing.

  * * * *

  Sunny winced as the truck bounced into and out of another pothole. She didn’t completely relax until she made the turn onto the paved road that would take her into Nevis. It had its own complement of potholes, but at least they were visible and therefore avoidable.

  She thought she’d handled herself pretty well. It wasn’t often down on their luck strangers came through Nevis. There were plenty of folk on foot hiking the Blue Ridge, but Nevis was a bit out of their way.

  It amused her how some people looked at the Blue Ridge almost like a carnival ride. They’d start out all perky and happy, with their brand new back packs and hiking boots that weren’t broken in. If they stuck to the designated footpaths, they’d arrive at the other end of their journey sweaty, tired and looking like they’d wrestled one of the indigenous black bears. Others were old timers, more experienced, wiser in the ways of the wild. None of them found their way to Nevis unless they were lost.

  Thi
s man was different. He was a loner and somehow he seemed vulnerable. Perhaps it was his youth, although he had a maturity that many an older man she knew lacked. Perhaps it was this mysterious something he was running from. Whatever it was, it affected his whole life. He didn’t seem like a shy or cowardly man so it must be something pretty bad.

  Her whole instinct was to help. She told herself it was her thwarted mothering instinct, but even as she had the thought she knew she was lying. Something about this Cas just appealed to her.

  Maybe he could fix that broken rail in the back garden. Hell, maybe he could rejuvenate the garden itself. That rail would be a good test of his abilities.

  She began to list the infinite number of fixes the old inn needed. Old inn, old homeplace. Yes indeed, she could keep him busy for years. And probably would, if he turned out to be legit.

  * * * *

  Cas stretched and took a deep breath of the cool mountain air. The sun was westering, the slight breeze felt good on his bronzed skin, even a little chilly, as it dried the sweat from his long walk. He propped his backpack against a pine and began to explore.

  The house first. He wrestled his way through a curtain of honeysuckle. Pretty as it smelled, it would have to be the first thing to go. He stepped onto a wide porch that ran the entire length of the front of the house. Amongst the bird and animal droppings and the dead leaves, he could see small pieces of mortar, fallen from the wall beside them.

  He ran a hand over the old gray stones. Some of them felt loose, and he dislodged a shower of mortar dust. These definitely needed repointing, but he wasn’t sure he had the skill. Still, it would be something he’d recommend to this Sunny.

  He’d felt an affinity for her, despite being on the wrong end of her rifle. It was as he’d told her, he couldn’t blame her for being careful.

  Lately he’d been feeling so alone. It had never bothered him before, he enjoyed his solitude. Solitude meant he didn’t get hurt again. Something was different now. Maybe he was growing up. After all, what could his father do to him? He stood taller and heavier than Jose Aguilar. There would be no more beatings.

  His father was a powerful man in other ways though, and he didn’t know how far that power extended. His father was also a man who detested being defeated. Any resistance to his wants and needs brought out the bully in him and he would use his power to destroy whoever he considered his enemy.

  Cas was pretty sure he was now on that list.

  Still, his father had probably never heard of this little town deep in the Appalachian mountains. As long as he kept his head low and his social security number private, he and those around him should be safe. His father’s wrath wouldn’t just light on him. Jose would strike out indiscriminately at everyone he considered to have helped hide his son from him. It was the reason Cas had left Nebraska–a curious stranger who he feared might have been a private detective.

  Cas would put nothing past his father. He didn’t know if it was the fear of the boy he’d been, or a true, legitimate fear of the adult man. He considered it too dangerous to find out so he would continue as he had begun.

  He struggled with the heavy front door and managed to push it open enough to let him through. He stood in a huge room darkened by the vines covering the small windows. If it were his, he’d enlarge those windows, bring in the outdoors, but he supposed safety had been the first concern back in the days this house had been built.

  One long wall was built of the same rough cut stones used on the outside of the house. They surrounded a huge fireplace, complete with andirons. Those andirons would never fit a modern fireplace, probably why they’d never been stolen. Dead leaves littered the plank floor along with more animal droppings. Even as he wondered what kind of animal, a squirrel scampered almost across his feet and out a broken pane in a back window.

  The state of everything ought to have depressed him. Instead it invigorated him. It was obvious he was needed here, and he’d do a damn good job with it too.

  He turned to get his backpack. There was still some jerky left and if he wasn’t mistaken he heard the sound of a rushing creek through that broken window pane. Then it would be up early in the morning for a quick–very quick–bath in that same creek, and the walk into town before the sun got hot.

  He had good feelings about this job, almost like he’d come home. Contentment filled him as he went about his chores.

  Chapter 3

  Cas studied the old inn carefully as he approached. He knew nothing of its history, but he liked the look of it, solid and welcoming. It reminded him of pictures he’d seen of old English coaching inns. He could almost see a stagecoach with horses at full gallop sweeping under the arches, the coach horn echoing over the valley, the coachman and passengers eager for relief from the rough, jouncing ride. Built of the same granite gray stone prevalent in the buildings of the area, it had an air of permanency that he welcomed. There had been so little of it in his own life. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with the desire to put down roots here in this pretty little mountain town, to live a simple life free of fear and uncertainty.

  He’d done his best to ready himself for what was becoming a very important interview. He desperately wanted this job, wanted it enough that he’d braved Mother Nature. She was one fickle lady or one with a sly sense of humor. Flowers might be blooming, trees might be blossoming, it made no difference to her. She’d near about frozen his balls off and probably had a big grin on her face as she’d watched him floundering around. The temperature had fallen to near freezing the night before. He’d huddled in his sleeping bag, and had to force himself to brave the cold water of the creek in the morning. Finally he’d given up dabbing his body with the frigid water, stripped naked and with a loud splash allowed himself to fall full length into the shallow creek, breaking his fall with his hands. His howl shocked the early morning birds into quiet. He completed his business as quickly as he could, drying himself with the shirt he’d worn the day before.

  The tank top today was white, an almost shocking contrast to his bronzed skin. He’d brushed his jeans and boots as best he could and wrestled with his hair which insisted on drying into tight ringlets. Finally in exasperation, he’d tied it back with a piece of rawhide he’d found in his pack. He had no idea why he’d saved it, except that a piece of rawhide was a handy thing to have. He’d shrugged into his jacket and between it and the walk to town had soon warmed up. Now if he could only fill his belly, he’d be a contented man.

  He passed under the arch, his footsteps echoing, staring up at the stones still mortared tightly together, and walked into the brightness of the courtyard where his boot heels struck sparks from cobblestones overfull of iron pyrite. The main entrance announced itself with Grecian pillars and a small portico. They should have looked ridiculous attached to all that gray mountain stone, but they didn’t. They were perfect for what they were. They fit. Like he hoped he’d fit somewhere one day.

  Taking in a deep breath, he hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders and walked between the Grecian pillars into what he hoped would be his new life.

  The lobby area was a blend of old and new, comfortable modern sofas sharing space with antique arm chairs and a mahogany card table. Somehow it all worked. The woman behind the reception desk, pretty in a matronly way, looked up as Cas approached and seemed to settle herself more comfortably as she took him in.

  “Well now, honey, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes! You hiking the Trail? Got yourself a tad lost, didn’t you?”

  Cas gave her what he hoped was a friendly smile. She beamed back at him, her hand fluttering up to pat her tightly permed hair.

  “No ma’am, I hope I’m found. You must be Martha. I have an appointment with a Sunny Douglas at eight o’clock.” He glanced at the grandmother clock ticking softly on the wall beside him. “I was afraid I’d be late, but looks like I made it in time.”

  “Sunny’s expecting you, darlin’? Well then, you just go right in. It’s back that way, down that hall. What’s
your name, honey? I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “Cas. She’s expecting me. Thanks.”

  He felt Martha’s gaze on him as he sauntered across the room to the hallway and suppressed a smile when he heard her mutter, “Lord, they didn’t make them like that in my day. Look at that butt.” Evidently Martha didn’t have a low volume.

  “Third door on the left, darlin’,” she called after him. He waved a hand but didn’t turn around all his concentration focused on the impending interview. A small, blond woman suddenly had the power to change his life. It was up to him to see she made the right decision.

  * * * *

  Sunny looked up as Cas filled her doorway. She’d forgotten how very large he was. Not bulky large, but tall, with the hint that one day his lanky body would more than match his big bones. His hands were calloused and scarred from manual labor, but the fingers were long and aristocratic, the nails clean. He seemed to take up all the air in the room. Certainly she was finding it difficult to catch her breath. She rose from her chair, but stayed behind her desk. It felt a little safer there.

  “You came,” she said inconsequentially, as he moved toward her.

  A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’m hungry,” he said simply. “I need to earn some money.”

  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to an old straight backed cane chair and settled back behind the desk. She felt a momentary discomfort at the state of her work area. It wasn’t modern and it wasn’t neat. No one was usually back here but her. Now she saw it through Cas’s eyes, although he said not a word.

  The desk was littered with a ledger and a stack of receipts that had fallen over, decorating the desk top with a kaleidoscope of pink and blue and white paper. A huge computer monitor, an antique itself, perched at one corner, a speaker phone at the other. Sandwiched in between was a calculator, a blue cup with a chipped rim full of pens and pencils, a rolodex and stacking plastic file holders that looked much the worse for wear.