“Crawford, you are trying.” She wanted to encourage him but he’d always want his way. The bully was never far from the surface.
“And I’ll keep trying. I’ve learned from my mistakes. I want to make amends.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I want to marry you all over again.”
A long pause followed until Martha leaned over the fragrant chocolate-covered strawberries and gently kissed him. “Let me think about it. You know I love you. I never stopped loving you but I’m afraid.”
“I promise I will never do anything like that again. Only you.”
“Give me some time.” She kissed him again.
“I’ll do anything, Martha. Anything.” He kissed her passionately.
“Well, I have a task for you if that’s true. What I learned when we divorced was that no one wanted to hire me. The work we did together didn’t count on a résumé. I could have starved. And you know, Crawford, you’re very tough in business and I thought I was old business.” She kissed him again, then continued. “I was burned. Not just by you but by people I thought were my friends. I found out exactly how I was regarded socially. So I was not high on anyone’s employment list nor on the dinner-party circuit. Devastating as it was, it was valuable to me. If I should go back to you I want to work. Even if I don’t make what you consider money, it will mean the world to me and I think it will make me more interesting to you.”
“You’re fascinating even in your sleep.”
She lowered her eyes. “Thank you, but do you understand? If you got tired of me—”
“I won’t,” he interrupted, his eyes intense.
She held up her hand. “Okay, but for my peace of mind. Do you agree to my working?”
“Yes, as long as you can take vacations when I do.”
“Then I need my own business.” She sounded much calmer than she felt.
“That’s not unreasonable.”
“I’d like to buy this company. I can make it work and I’ve learned how to bid jobs.”
He exhaled through his nostrils. “Will she sell?”
“I think she will. She’ll need the money. You know how he was.”
“Yes,” Crawford replied simply.
Another pause ensued while he thoughtfully ate a strawberry. “I never really thought about what you must have gone through. I thought about it in emotional terms but not—I’ve been the captain of the ship. I can’t imagine what it was like to look for work and I wish you had told me.”
“You were occupied.” She said it without rancor.
“What I was was a fool.” He put down the stem end of the strawberry. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I agree to your terms but it might be prudent if you approached Sorrel.”
She threw her arms around him. “You’ve made me so happy. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
“Does this mean you’ll marry me?”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 58
“We could realize an annual income of $24,000 minimum. If we spent what needs to be done to rehabilitate the place, probably $40,000, then we could realize an annual income of close to $48,000, since we could charge $4,000 a month.” Georgia Vann, treasurer, spoke. She had taken the precaution of handing out these figures along with the bids for repairs at the beginning of the ad hoc meeting to announce Peter Wheeler’s generosity.
“Why can’t we hire someone to clear trails and build jumps year-round and house them there? They could make the repairs and it would save some money.” Betty Franklin was trying to be helpful.
“When would they have time? I mean, if they were properly doing their job for the hunt club? It’s better to hire professional roofers and painters. Look at what we’ve been through at the shop, hon,” Bobby, seated at a long table facing the membership, reminded his wife.
“You’re right.”
“Is she always that agreeable?” a male member called out.
“My Princess, sure.” Bobby laughed and the others laughed with him.
Peter’s gift, an antidote to Fontaine’s murder, had raised everyone’s spirits.
“Would the renter have to be a hunt club member?” Cody asked, wishing she had the money to rent it.
“We never thought of that,” Bobby responded, “but unless someone raises an objection I don’t see why membership would be a requirement so long as the renter accepts this is a long-standing fixture and will be hunted regularly.”
Walter stood up. “I would be willing to rent the place right now. I would also be willing to coordinate all repairs if the hunt club will pay for them. Naturally, I’ll keep up the grounds. And I’d pay $3,000 a month so long as I have full use of the barns and all outbuildings.”
A brief silence followed; then everyone talked at once.
Bobby banged down the gavel. “Does anyone wish to match Walter’s offer?”
Crawford stood up. “It’s a good solution for both parties. I move that we accept Dr. Lungrun’s proposal. The rent to stay at $3,000 per month for a five-year period, at which time the lease can be renegotiated.”
“I second the motion.” Martha beamed at Crawford.
“Discussion?” Bobby asked. When none was forthcoming he continued: “All in favor, say aye.”
“Aye,” came the chorus.
“All opposed say nay.”
One lone nay came from Cody.
“What’s that about?” her father asked.
“Just that I wish I had the money to rent it. I’m not really opposed.”
“All right, then.” Bobby smiled at her. “Motion carries. Is there other business to be discussed?”
Sister, who sat in the corner during business meetings, called out, “New doors for the kennel.”
Bobby scanned his list. “Forgot that. We need new interior doors. As you know, wooden ones last two years, if that. The tin-covered ones last about five years and our five years are up. If you’ll flip over your sheet you’ll see Georgia has itemized expenses and bids.”
As the discussion about replacing doors droned on, Jennifer slipped into the meeting. Still carrying her schoolbooks, she sat next to her mother.
“How was practice?” Betty strongly supported Jennifer’s field hockey efforts.
“Okay.” Jennifer whispered, “Mom, Dean Offendahl got busted at school for drugs. He says I’ve been buying from him but I haven’t.” Betty shot her a dark look and Jennifer hurriedly added, “He’s pissed that I don’t hang with him anymore. Honest.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Betty whispered back. Inside she wondered if there’d ever be an end to this. If she’d ever trust Jennifer again.
Finally all the loose ends were tied up, the meeting was adjourned, and the members headed for the bar. Jefferson Hunt had no clubhouse. Meetings and events rotated among member’s homes and large meetings such as this one were held at a new country club, Dueling Grounds, built on the old dueling grounds. Since the club was competing with older, more prestigious clubs it offered better facilities and encouraged people to come in and see what was available.
The bar, paneled with wormy chestnut, old hunt prints on the wall, was inviting.
As was the custom in Virginia, paid staff did not attend membership meetings. Shaker and Doug didn’t mind, as neither man had much tolerance for the windiness that accompanies such gatherings.
“Sister.” Walter leaned over to speak to her. “I’ll take good care of Peter’s home.”
She smiled up at him. “You’ll fill up that barn in no time. Have you ever noticed people start with one horse and wind up with a herd? I think it’s some kind of progressive disease. You might want to do research on it.”
He laughed. “All right.”
She lowered her voice, which, considering the noise, wasn’t necessary. “Thank you again for dropping by the other day. Peter was a dear friend. I appreciated your sympathy.”
“He saved me after Dad . . . died. I wish I’d known him as long as you did. He used to call you his movie star.”
“He did?”