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She had done exactly as he’d said: She’d cast stones without knowing all the facts. There were a thousand extenuating circumstances that could put a different complexion on what appeared a shabby affair. She realized that circumstances were not always what they seemed. Unknown factors often made the difference between right and wrong, good and evil, innocence and guilt. Shouldn’t she know that better than anyone?
Her thoughts made her claustrophobic, so she left the car. An open meadow extended as far as she could see on either side of the road. In the near distance, beneath a sprawling pecan tree, a small herd of cattle was settled for the night. Several oil wells, pumping rhythmically, were eerily silhouetted as dark, moving shadows against the night. Rhythmically, they dipped their horse-shaped heads toward the earth, paying it homage like faithful disciples at prayer.
She supposed they were Tackett wells.
It hadn’t rained in over a week, so the ditch was dry. She crossed it easily and moved to the wire fence that surrounded the pasture. Being careful of the sharp barbs, she leaned against a rough cedar post and, tilting her head back, gazed at the panoply of stars and a bright half-moon.
“What are you doing here, Lara?”
It was a question she frequently asked herself. Even before Clark’s death, she had grappled with the idea of coming here and confronting him with her terms for settling their account. She’d planned to present him with a bill for repayment for all that she’d lost.
He died before she had implemented her plan. Although, tragic as his death was, it had little bearing on her achieving her goal. Clark wasn’t essential to her plan. Key was.
Key. He despised her. Because of that, her task wasn’t going to be easy. However, the difficulty didn’t dampen her determination. Medical training had taught her that in order for things to get better, they often had to get worse. Before wounds could heal, they had to be lanced and the poison excised. She was willing to endure anything, no matter how painful, in order to lay to rest the ghosts that haunted her.
Only then would she finally have the peace that had escaped her since her daughter’s death. Only then would she be able to put the tragedies of the past behind her and get on with the remainder of her life, either in Eden Pass or somewhere else.
The years following her return from Montesangre after the deaths of Randall and Ashley had been a wasteland of time. She hadn’t lived; she’d existed. Full of despair and heartache and loneliness, she had moved through the days without connecting with anything around her. Work might have salved her heartache, but she’d been denied the opportunity. She was a pariah, an object of curiosity and ridicule, Clark Tackett’s whore.
That’s what Key had called her. A whore. Jody thought of her that way, too. Lara had seen the unmitigated contempt in her eyes. She’d expected nothing else, really.
Even her own parents had condemned her. They never had shared a warm relationship with their only child, but it had been especially strained since the scandal. They certainly couldn’t understand why she would want to set up her medical practice in an out-of-the-way place like Eden Pass, Texas, particularly since that was Tackett territory.
“They need a doctor there,” Lara had told them when they voiced their incredulity over her decision.
“Doctors are needed everywhere,” her father had argued. “Why go there?”
“Because she always places herself in the worst possible situation, dear.” Her mother spoke softly but coldly. “It’s a habit she’s acquired strictly to annoy us.”
Her father added, “Taking the path of least resistance isn’t a crime, Lara. After all that’s happened, I would think you’d have learned that.”
They would have been aghast if she’d told them the real purpose behind her move to Texas, so she didn’t confide it. Making a futile attempt at self-defense, she’d said, “I know it won’t be easy to establish a practice there, but it’s the best opportunity I’ve been offered.”
“And you have only yourself to blame for that, and for all your other misfortunes. If you had listened to your mother and me in the first place, your life wouldn’t be in shambles now.”
She could have reminded them that they had encouraged her to marry Randall Porter. Even before meeting him, they’d been impressed by his credentials. He was charming and urbane and cosmopolitan. He was fluent in three languages and held a promising position in the State Department, an attribute they liked to throw up to their society friends.
They still regarded Randall as a saint for remaining married to her after the spectacle she’d made of herself with Senator Tackett. Would it make any difference to them, she wondered, if they knew how unhappy she’d been with Randall long before he introduced her to Clark?
Uncomfortable with her memories, Lara retraced her steps to her car and was about to get in when she became aware of a sound coming from overhead. Looking up, she spotted an airplane. It was nothing but a blinking dot of light on the horizon, but it came closer, flying low. In fact, it was cruising at a dangerously low altitude, barely clearing the treetops of the forest bordering the pasture. The aircraft was small—a single-engine plane, she guessed, with her limited knowledge of aviation.
It swooped in low over the pasture and crossed the road about a hundred yards from Lara’s parked car. She sucked in her breath as the plane approached the far woods. Only seconds before it reached the tree line, the plane’s nose reared back at a drastic angle as it went i
nto a steep climb, then banked to the left and gradually ascended to a safer altitude. Lara watched it until she could no longer see the lights.
Would someone be crop dusting at this time of night? Would chemicals be dusted over pastures where cattle were grazing? No, this had to be a stunt flyer.
“Fool,” she muttered as she got into her car and turned on the ignition.
Of course, most considered her a fool for coming to Eden Pass and effectively waving a red flag at the Tacketts. But when one has absolutely nothing to lose, one isn’t so shy of taking tremendous risks. What could the Tacketts say or do to her that hadn’t already been said and done?
Once they had met her demand, she would gladly leave them to their town. In the meantime, she didn’t care what they thought of her. She must, however, get them past their aversion even to talk to her. But how?
Jody was unapproachable.
Key was snide and abusive, and she didn’t welcome subjecting herself to more of him until absolutely necessary.
Janellen? She had sensed in Clark’s sister a spark of curiosity before Jody interceded. Could that curiosity be a chink she could use to pierce the Tackett armor?
