trouble she and Beth’s mother were having. Colleen most likely persuaded her one and only son to come to her rescue. Not that Beth could blame her, especially considering she’d had that minor heart attack. And since she had no other children, who else would she call? Still, Zach’s visit sure put a cramp in Beth’s style. It was selfish of her to feel that way, but she did.
No matter how hard she tried not to, everything she did and said during his stay would be weighed against what he thought and whether or not she might run into him whenever she set foot outside her door.
Just like fourteen years ago all over again. Why else would she be standing in front of this mirror now? She rarely spent more than a few seconds checking her appearance. She wasn’t a makeup, big hairdo kind of girl. Never had been. No hair spray or curling irons could be found in her bathroom, and few cosmetics. That realization had her peering even closer at her face and hair. She’d had the same cut for years. Was it time for a change?
Beth squared her shoulders and glowered sternly at the suddenly insecure woman staring back at her. “You are an adult,” she scolded. “Act like one.”
With that reprimand ringing in her ears, she went in search of her mother. They needed some one-on-one time in neutral territory—away from the Ashton environment.
Beth had to know what was going on with Colleen and Helen. All she had to do was find a way to get them back together and she would be saved. Helen would insist on taking charge of the party planning and Beth would be off the hook with Zach. Avoiding him wouldn’t be that difficult then.
Helen McCormick was busily peeling potatoes when Beth entered the kitchen. Lingering near the door, she watched her mother for a bit before speaking. At sixty-five, Helen was still an attractive woman. She’d stayed fit and kept a good attitude about growing older. Her hair was more gray now than blond, and she kept the long mane braided and coiled around the crown of her head just like she had since Beth was a child. She smiled. Her mother was a good woman, a hardworking one who enjoyed life and never took anything for granted.
That was the main draw between Helen and Colleen. Both had such a zest for life. Though their backgrounds differed greatly, from education to financial status, the two were so much alike it was astounding and yet, each woman was entirely different—unique in her own right. Beth had seen the two squabble from time to time, but never had she known them to stop speaking to each other.
It just wasn’t natural.
Zacharius Ashton, Senior, had been very generous to Helen in his will, for no other reason than to show his appreciation for her years of companionship to his wife. Not that the McCormicks had ever wanted for anything anyway. The cottage was Helen’s until the day she died. Her salary had always been well above average for the services she rendered, as had been Beth’s father’s. No one could accuse the Ashtons of anything less than complete fairness.
The arrangement had worked like a charm for nearly half a century. What on earth could have changed a relationship that long-standing?
“Let’s have dinner out tonight, Mom,” Beth suggested hopefully, announcing her presence as she crossed the kitchen to stand beside her mother. “You’ve worked hard today, you need a break.”
Helen didn’t look up from her efficient paring. “Thanks, honey, but I’ve got my heart set on that potato soup your grandmother used to make.”
Beth shrugged. All dressed up and no place to go. “What can I do then?” She reached for the drawer that held the aprons while mentally reviewing the ingredients they would need.
“You just run along,” Helen said, still not looking up. “I need some more thinking time.”
Beth closed the drawer and leaned one hip against the cabinet. “Mom, look at me.” She folded her arms over her chest and waited. When her mother at last relented and turned her way, Beth continued, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I wish you’d let me in on it. This whole situation’s just too disturbing. I can see what an effect it’s having on you, not to mention Mrs. Ashton.”
Helen dropped the knife and the nearly naked potato into the sink and dried her hands on a towel. “I can’t tell you,” she said finally. She folded the towel neatly and put it on the counter, her gaze focused intently upon the ivy embellished terry cloth. “This is between Colleen and me.”
Beth wasn’t going to give up that easily. “You said there was something that needed to be said.”
Helen’s deep brown gaze, the one Beth had inherited, connected with hers. “There is, but it’s not so simple.”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t understand. What could possibly be so earthshaking that you’re afraid to say it out loud?”
Helen looked away, but not before Beth saw the truth of her own words. Her breath trapped in her chest. It was earthshaking. Whatever it was, it was big. The fear and pain she saw in her mother’s eyes in that millisecond before she turned away made Beth’s heart skip a beat.
“Okay.” Beth swallowed at the lump of worry forming in her throat. This was definitely not good. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You and Colleen have been friends forever, you’ll work it out in your own time.”
Her hands braced against the counter, Helen merely stared into the bowl of potatoes she’d been peeling.
Beth started to apologize again but the ringing of the telephone interrupted her. She sighed, walked to the back door and snagged up the receiver from the old beige rotary base hanging on the wall. She managed a pleasant hello.
“Miss Beth?”
“Yes.” She frowned. The male voice sounded like—
“Mayor Chadwick here,” he said in that aristocratic, take-charge air that was more than a few decibels too loud.
“How are you this evening, Mayor?” God, Beth hoped he wanted to speak to her mother. The man could talk for hours without saying anything at all.
“I’m fine, darlin’, and you?”
“Couldn’t be better,” Beth lied through her teeth.
“The council and I are meeting at the diner tonight to organize our part of Ms. Colleen’s celebration. Seeing as you’re in charge of the planning now, we thought you might want to join us.”
Beth tamped down the groan that welled in her chest. “What time?” She glanced at her watch. It was six now.
“Six-thirty all right with you? Josie’s got chicken-fried steak on the blue plate special tonight.” He chuckled. “The best chicken-fried steak in the whole county, you know.”
Just what she needed, a plateful of cholesterol and an earful of bull. “Sure,” Beth agreed, wincing inwardly at what lay before her. “I’ll be there.”
“I’ve already called Zach. He’s coming, too.”
Beth’s jaw fell slack. The mayor said his goodbye and hung up before she could rally a verbal response. This couldn’t be happening already. She needed a little more time to prepare. To brace herself against Zach’s vast and varied charms.
Replacing the receiver, she turned back to her mother. Maybe she could
