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“Not terrible.” His tight grin told her she wasn’t going to get more than that.
“Are you ready to go?” she asked, trying to decipher his mood.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He wouldn’t let her help him get into the car. It was painful to watch. Clearly, bending the knee was dreadfully uncomfortable.
When he had his seat belt fastened, she started the engine. “Do you want me to put the address in my phone, or are you going to give me directions?”
“I’ll tell you how to get there,” he said. “For now, head out of town on the old highway.”
Cate wondered if Harry was one of those men who hated not being behind the wheel. Last night it hadn’t mattered. He’d been battered and bruised and literally bleeding.
Now he stared out the side window as if he was deeply interested in the fields of corn they passed.
There were peach orchards, too. Plenty of them.
At an intersection, Harry pointed. “Take a left here. In about five miles you’ll see the driveway on the right. I’ll show you.”
It was crazy, but she felt the back of her neck and her shoulders tightening. This visit had nothing at all to do with her, but Harry’s mood was rubbing off on her.
At exactly 5.2 miles, Harry directed her onto a narrow, paved road. As they left the state highway, two large stone lions atop matching concrete posts flanked the turn.
Once Cate steered the car and paused, she saw they were on private property—a driveway that led up a series of low rises all the way to a hilltop peak in the distance. The perfectly manicured pavement had to be at least a mile long.
“Wow,” she said. “This is your home?”
“This is mymother’shome,” he clarified, his voice stiff. “I haven’t lived here since I turned eighteen.”
Cate began to understand there was far more to this story than she understood.
At the top, the driveway curved into a circle. The house was enormous, redbrick with a wide front porch and white columns She parked right at the base of the steps. Twelve or fifteen of them as far as she could tell. “Is there another entrance we could use that would be easier for crutches?”
Harry adjusted his dark sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. “Nope. Company comes in the front. Always.”
Curiouser and curiouser. Cate hovered at Harry’s elbow, ready to help if needed, but she was aware of his body language. He was determined to do this on his own. If he had been able to drive, Cate wouldn’t be here at all.
A woman in a navy and teal uniform answered the door. “Hello, Mr. Harry,” she said, beaming. “Oh, my. What did you do to yourself?”
“Hello, Justine. A running mishap. Nothing serious.” He gave the older woman a kiss on the cheek. “How’s the family?”
“All good,” she said. “My oldest grandbaby is off to college at the end of the summer.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He tucked his sunglasses in his shirt pocket. “That’s not possible. I remember when she was born.”
Justine chuckled. “Time waits for no man. Or woman.” She greeted Cate as well with a warm smile. “Would you like a glass of something cold, ma’am? Iced tea? A mint julep?”
A mint julep?What was this? A scene from a 1950s Southern-set movie?“Um, no thanks. I’m fine for now.”
Justine gave Harry an odd glance. The two of them appeared to exchange some unspoken message. “Your mother is waiting in the drawing room,” Justine said. “We’ll have lunch in thirty minutes.”
“Thanks,” Harry said. He straightened his shoulders, despite the crutches. “Showtime,” he muttered under his breath.
Cate wasn’t at all sure he meant for her to hear.
The house was laid out neatly on either side of a wide, marble-tiled hallway. Thedrawing roomon the right was easily twenty-four feet in length. Large windows framed the pastoral view. The elaborate furnishings were over-the-top, reminiscent of the Palace of Versailles, if Versailles happened to be found in Georgia and had fewer mirrors.
Harry’s mother held court on a red, velvet-covered settee halfway down the expanse of Oriental carpet. She didn’t stand as they approached. At first, she smiled, but then she wrinkled her nose. “Mustyou use those ugly crutches, Prescott?”
