Читать книгу Sacred Ground - Adrienne Reeves Ellis - Страница 12

Makima picked up the telephone on its first ring. “Makima Gray speaking.”

“Good morning, Miss Gray.”

She recognized the voice of the woman on the other end of the line. It was friendly but undergirded with the authority of a decision maker.

“This is Harriet Wetherell of Wetherell Associates. I hope you are well.”

“I’m fine, Ms. Wetherell, and you?”

“Couldn’t be better.” With the social amenities out of the way, Harriet got down to business. “Did you receive the packet of material we sent you last week?”

“Yes, thank you. It was very informative.”

“As I mentioned before when we talked, our company has a good reputation for living up to our motto, We Build For You. Whatever you have in mind we will provide in the highest quality and for a competitive price. I hope you read the comments from some of our clients. We urge you to talk to them and hear for yourself what they say about the structures we built for them.”

“I know the little art gallery in Columbia you built. I’ve been there and admired the way the space was handled to give the maximum advantage for the artwork,” Makima said. “Of course a medical clinic is totally different from an art gallery.”

“Not really,” Ms. Wetherell said thoughtfully. “Their functions aren’t the same but each one has to be built to last, to be environmentally friendly, comfortable to inhabit, pleasing to the eye and highly specific for its activity.”

“Those are all good points,” Makima agreed. “I hadn’t thought of it in that way.”

“The last time you were here, you still hadn’t made a decision about the exact location of your clinic, Miss Gray. May I ask how that’s coming along?”

“Slowly, Ms. Wetherell. An obstacle has come up which may take some time to deal with.” Makima had to work at keeping her voice pleasant and noncommittal as she thought of Gabriel Bell.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but these things happen in the real estate and construction business. I’ll keep in touch, and meanwhile, if there’s any matter we can help you with, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Wetherell Associates had been recommended to Makima and the board by a business in Rock Hill, South Carolina. “What they say they’ll do, they do and on time. Not like most of these folk who work for you three days one week and don’t come back until days later. You can’t fire them because they have your money, but you only have a part of your construction.”

That was a good recommendation, but the clinic group had to be thorough when there was so much of their precious money at stake. Was this corporation totally honest? Had there been any problem after the building had been standing a few years? How did they handle weather delays? How many crews did they have working at one time and were they all equally qualified?

Makima admired Harriet. She was CEO of the corporation and seemed to be straightforward and direct. Had always been courteous with the clinic group, but naturally she wanted to sign them to a contract. Makima could appreciate that, but no contract would be signed as far as Makima was concerned until all those questions had been answered to her satisfaction. And until she had figured out a way to negotiate a sale of property with Gabriel Bell.

He might think she’d given up. All that had happened was the first skirmish in the battle.

She knew beyond a doubt that the clinic was supposed to be built on Mr. Zeke’s land. She’d prayed about the matter for years with all of the faith and earnestness she could muster and had never received a negative sign from God. Therefore she was following His will. That being the case, how could she fail?

This was just a test of her faith. Important things never came easily. You had to work hard and sometimes use strategy. She’d pray about it and think of something.

It was too bad troublesome things kept happening between them. First the catastrophe in the restaurant, which she might never live down, followed by the unexpected meeting at the church, and now his total refusal to consider Mr. Zeke’s consent to sell her land for the clinic. He hadn’t even taken the time to discuss it at length with her. A curt statement about the will not permitting it and that was all.

He was so attractive and she wished they could be friendly but obviously that wasn’t going to be in the picture!

Makima straightened the papers on her desk and turned off the lamp. She might be able to head a project like the clinic, but she didn’t seem to have much success with men. Reggie had walked away and now the first man she’d found interesting since him seemed to be nothing but bad news.

“You ready, young Drew?” Sam called at the back door the next morning, as Gabe had predicted.

“Come in for coffee,” Gabe said.

“Already had some, thanks.”

Drew clattered down the steps to join his garden instructor. Gabe watched them for a moment with a bemused expression. Who’d ever have thought Drew would be interested in gardening? As he went up to continue work in the office, it occurred to him that by living all his life in a Manhattan apartment the opportunity for gardening had never come up for Drew. What else might happen for the two of them in this new environment?

As he sifted through the bank statements, Makima came to mind as part of this new environment.

But she wasn’t new. He’d met her kind before. Extremely attractive, intelligent, personable with people. The kind of skin you longed to touch. Hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Lips that were very kissable. And curves. Long legs. Beautiful shoes. And curves.

He had the feeling she could be snobbish at times if she found herself in circumstances where she was uncomfortable. Use it as a defense mechanism. She had the presence and the style to carry it off.

He knew the type well. In fact, he had been seriously involved with one called Olivia several years back. They’d dated for a year or so and he’d never been so in love. He’d been saving to get her a ring before popping the question. Then by pure accident he discovered that she’d been seeing a guy who lived in New Jersey, which explained why she’d been unavailable to go out with him sometimes, especially on weekends. He’d felt like a fool and a dupe and had promised himself to never get in such a situation again.

The few dates he’d had after that were casual and harmless. His social life had been curtailed anyway after his parents died. Leaving Drew alone in the apartment while he partied wasn’t an option.

His boys would come over and sometimes bring girls along and that was it. This year Drew had complained that he didn’t need Gabe babysitting him. He was going on sixteen and big enough to take care of himself. Gabe was touched, and just to stop Drew’s bellyaching he went out a couple of Saturdays with Webster and Calvin.

Drew was always anxious to know the next day all about his evening out. Gabe obliged with an account of where they went and what music they heard. It had been a welcome change, but Gabe discovered that this was not how he wanted to spend his evenings. There’d been a time when he did but that time had passed.

He wondered if there were any clubs here in Grayson. What did Alana and her crowd do for entertainment other than go to the movies? As for Makima, she might not go out at all just for entertainment.

Getting the clinic up and working probably took all her time. Something like that could make you obsessive and she seemed the type. Immediately he had the image of her trying to get the salad off his jacket even when it was clear that the mayonnaise had already soaked into the fabric. He’d been so angry then but now when he thought of it, he was amused. One thing about the incident, she’d made an indelible impression on him. And on his jacket.

He was still smiling when the phone ran. It was the attorney, Jasper Moultrie.

“How are you and Drew settling in?” he asked.

Gabe filled him in on the trip, the church experience and Sam Williams.

“We’ve been learning about Great-Grandfather. Did you know he’s looked upon as an expert on Africa and even spoke to schools on the subject?”

“I believe he did mention that at one time,” Moultrie said. “He never lost interest in the subject.”

“You’ve seen this house, Mr. Moultrie?”

“Yes, I have.”

“We were overwhelmed. Had no idea it was this grand. You know it’s mostly his own work.” Gabe heard the pride in his own voice and was surprised.

“Your great-grandfather was a man of many parts as they used to say of outstanding men.”

“I see that. I’ve been going through his papers. Found his property tax assessment and my heart nearly stopped.”

“I hope it gave you some motivation to observe the dictates of the will,” Moultrie said calmly.

“Don’t worry. I’m observing them. I’ve already searched his bedroom and now I’m working through his office. By the way, Mr. Moultrie, what did my great-grandfather look like? I haven’t found any photographs of him yet.”

“I’ll do my best to describe him as I saw him. He stood about five-eight, had a powerful body and strong features. Deep-set eyes, broad nose and mouth. Wore his hair thick. Had a fine forehead. He was dark-skinned. Does that give you a picture?”

“Yes, it does.”

“One more thing, he had a presence about him. He wasn’t a loud-speaking man but he had your attention when he spoke.”

“That I can imagine. I’m curious about another thing. Did you come to the funeral?”

“Yes, as quietly as possible. Someone had to lock up the house and see that all was in order.”

“I wondered about that and how the rumor was started about an heir from New York. That was your doing?” Gabe asked. He didn’t see how it could have been anyone else.

“I did it because the community had to have some idea about what was going to happen. I hoped it would prevent the kind of idle curiosity that occurs when houses are left unoccupied too long. You found everything was all right?”

“Yes. I expect Sam Williams across the street was watching it anyway.”

“No doubt. Good man, Sam. Call me if you have any questions, Mr. Bell, and my regards to Drew.”

Gabe went back to work with the image of his great-grandfather in his mind. He wished he had a photograph. It was strange that there weren’t any in the house, but maybe they’d been put away in one of the numerous dressers. He’d keep an eye out for them. Meanwhile he was through with the desk so he started on the books.

They were organized by subject matter and since it was clear from the first glimpse that Africa was the predominant theme, he paid close attention to those books. Most of them showed signs of heavy usage but Gabe could find no clue in them. He did make a mental note that there were several on the small nation called the Gambia.

Downstairs he made tuna sandwiches with lettuce and tomato for lunch. He had to start getting more vegetables on Drew’s plate any way he could.

“In a week or two I’m going with Mr. Williams to get stuff to put in the garden. He says we have to wait because it’s too early now. You can’t plant just any time,” he proclaimed.

“That’s good to know,” Gabe replied. “What will you be planting?”

“Don’t know yet. Some are already started in little pots and you have to look them over for the healthiest ones.” He took another sandwich. “This is good. I never thought of putting tomato with tuna.”

“Now that we’re going to have our own vegetables we can experiment with our cooking instead of eating the same old things day after day.” Gabe was serious but he was also giving Drew a new idea.

“Yeah, and you know what? The first time something comes up in the garden we can invite Mr. Williams over for dinner,” he said with enthusiasm as he swallowed a large bite.

“Good idea,” Gabe agreed. “By the way, Mr. Moultrie called to see how we’re getting along.”

“Did you tell him we haven’t found anything yet?”

“He didn’t even ask. He knows we just got here Saturday. I asked him how Great-Grandfather looked because I hadn’t seen any pictures around here. Have you?”

“No. I was going to tell you the same thing because it’s weird not to have a single picture of your family.” Drew looked puzzled. “Don’t you think so?”

“I guess they’re all packed away.”

“What’d he say Great-Grandfather looked like?”

Gabe repeated the description faithfully.

Drew listened, not eating. “Wish I could have seen him,” he said.

“Me, too,” Gabe echoed.

After lunch Gabe had great hopes of finding a clue when he returned to the office and opened the two-drawer file that stood beside the desk. What he found was that his great-grandfather had been a clipper. Folders labeled with many subjects were filled with clippings from newspapers and magazines.

He literally groaned. How in the world could he read all that stuff? But if he neglected to, would he be missing what he was supposed to discover? No wonder he was to be here three months.

He flipped through the folders: world history, U.S. history, black history, philosophy, religion, travel, South Carolina, North Carolina, weather, the environment, health, gardening, mechanics, carpentry, people in the news, the arts, food, and education.

Hadn’t Moultrie said this man had to teach himself to read? Obviously he’d carried the love of it all through his life.

When he, Gabe, died, what would he leave behind that people could go through and be impressed by? If only Moultrie could have brought him here while Great-Grandfather was still in this house so he could have absorbed some of the richness of his life!

There were also folders containing the plans for this house. Some of them had been drawn by an architect and others by Ezekiel Bell Jr. To Gabe’s untrained eye they looked equally professional.

He found statements and receipts for all of the lumber, the wiring, the nails and the hardware, everything that went into the building of the house. It was as if it had all been meticulously collected and saved for an accounting.

He scanned the folders again and made the decision that they would have to wait. If after he’d gone through the whole house and hadn’t found the clues, then he’d come back and read every item in every folder.

He sighed with relief as he closed the folder drawer. He was halfway down the stairs when the phone rang. He hurried back to the office and picked it up with a breathless “Hello.”

“Hello, Gabe, this is Makima. Were you running? You sound out of breath.”

Gabe collapsed in a chair. “I was halfway downstairs and had to come back up. I guess Great-Grandfather never got around to cordless phones.” Now, this call was a surprise. What did Miss Gray want this time? He noticed she’d called him Gabe instead of that haughty Mr. Bell she’d used before she stomped out the door yesterday.

“I want to apologize for the way I left your house. I lost my temper and said the wrong things to you. I’m sorry.”

In his surprise Gabe didn’t respond immediately, which seemed to make her hurry on.

“I was just so disappointed and I let that emotion take over. I hope you can forgive me,” she said.

“It’s all right, Makima. We all lose our tempers sometimes.” Her apology sounded sincere and he was glad.

“How are the two of you settling in?”

“Pretty well.”

“Have you met Sam Williams yet?”

“He came over and had breakfast with us. He’s a very interesting man.”

“He and Mr. Zeke were good buddies.”

“So I understand. He didn’t want the garden to die and today he showed Drew how to care for it and Drew seems to be interested.”

She laughed. “That sounds just like him. It was good talking with you, Gabe, and I hope to see you around.”

“Thanks for the call, Makima. I appreciate it.”

She’d been wrong and had seen it after she’d calmed down. Not everyone, however, would have called to apologize. Especially a pretty woman. So he truly did appreciate it.

It was a big plus mark for her.

Even so, he wasn’t going to let himself be drawn in by her good points or her physical attractiveness.

Been there, done that, and had been badly hurt.

Drew was his family now and that was all he needed.