The next installment of The Davies is here. If you need to catch up with previous chapters, you can hit the link to the blog.

The next day Kennedy rode her bike out to Elm Street and hiked back through the woods to the rickety bridge. She held her breath while crossing and said a prayer of thanks while hiking up to the building. Mrs. Hughes had given her the key and this time she was in capris and shoes with closed toes which made navigating the trail a lot easier. Climbing to the second story she began taking pictures of the valley below. She wished the window would open so she could get a clear view, but even through the glass it was amazing. It looked like a perfect woodland setting out of a storybook, only this was real.

She had already taken the ground level photos. They had the advantage of being perfectly clear, but not as dramatic. She was lining up a last shot through the windowpane she had cleaned when into the frame stepped Owen Caldwell. “Oh, for the love of…” Her voice was loud in the otherwise silent room. She watched as he approached the building like he was going to come in. A confrontation with Owen was never a good thing but standing on the property that was his, despite what Mrs. Hughes said, was going to make it worse. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, she scrambled down the stairs.

It would be close, but if she hurried, she could be out the door and around the side of the building before he saw her. She put her shoulder to the heavy door and shoved it with all her might expecting it to swing wide, but it collided with something hard. A man’s voice swore loudly. Her heart dropped to her stomach. Peeking around the edge she saw that the door had smacked him right in the face. “Oh, no! I am so sorry, I didn’t know you’d be there or I wouldn’t have shoved it so hard…” she trailed off. He had stepped back with his hand over his face, blood seeping through his fingers.

His free hand was fishing through his pocket like he was looking for something.

Her brain started functioning again. “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe I did that; I am so sorry.” Kennedy rambled, fishing through her purse for a tissue or napkin. Pulling out a packet of tissues, she handed him a stack. His upper lip had taken the worst of it, but both his lip and nose were bleeding. He was trying to bunch up the tissues to prevent any more blood from running down his chin onto his shirt. He wasn’t wearing a coat or tie at least, but he was looking a bit ghastly now with blood staining the impeccably white shirt he was wearing a deep red.

Time seemed to stop and she stared at the blood running down his chin and onto his shirt. Her face was hot and prickles danced over her skin. Dread pooled in her stomach. Something was wrong. The blood…

 “Sit down,” Owen’s voice was muffled.

Kennedy didn’t move. Her heart was racing. What was wrong?

“Honey, you look like you’re gonna pass out. Please sit down.”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “I’m okay, you’re the one that’s…bleeding.”

“No, it’s already stopping. Let’s go back inside; we can sit on the stairs. There’s nothing else in there but dust and spiders.”

He took hold of her arm and steered her inside to the stairs. She sat on the lowest stair while Owen sat above. She looked up and asked “Are you okay?”

“I’m great. How are you?”

“It was the heat. I’m fine.” She waved a hand in the air like it was all no big deal. “I am so sorry for smacking you with the door. I didn’t know you were there.”

“Where were you rushing off to anyway?”

She sighed. It would be so much easier to lie, but she didn’t like lying and was generally pretty crappy at it. “To avoid you actually. I was taking pictures for Mrs. Hughes of the view from upstairs and saw you coming. I didn’t want any big confrontation so I bolted.”

“Yes, bolting appears to be your default.”

It wasn’t said unkindly, but she winced anyway.

“Mrs. Hughes shouldn’t have made you come out here for pictures anyway. She has dozens. What more is she looking for?”

            “She said she wanted pictures to go along with the surveyors report for the meeting.”

“Surveyor’s report? We’ve already done that. What the hell is she up to now?”

Somehow his anger made her feel better. The guilty, sick feeling was fading replaced with annoyance. “Mrs. Hughes is right to try and preserve a place like this, you’d probably be happy to bulldoze the whole forest. Anyway, I don’t need to be telling you anything.” She stood, but he moved to stand in her way.

“I’m sorry,” he said plaintively. “I’m just frustrated and my face hurts. Please don’t run off. That it was out of line. Mrs. Hughes is on my last nerve. She’s determined to take…It doesn’t matter.” He sighed as he gingerly touched his upper lip, taking stock of the damage. “Mrs. Hughes can do whatever she likes. I’ve already given her the key here, you’re not trespassing and if she got a hundred surveyors up here none of them are going to tell her anything she doesn’t already know. I’m just tired of having to deal with it to tell you the truth.”

Kennedy could hear the resignation in his voice and remarkably began to feel sorry for him, not only for smacking him in the head with a door.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He looked like he meant it. His face was softer, more expressive.

            “You didn’t really, it’s the…” she didn’t bother to finish, she gestured to the red stains on his shirt.  

“Got it.” Owen nodded and she was grateful that he seemed to understand and she could skip the details. “Did you get all the pictures you needed?”

There he was, being nice again. “Mostly. I was going to take a few more just from the top of the hill to get that valley.” She looked him in the eyes as best she could while avoiding his battered lip. “Can you honestly say you see no value in preserving it?”

“I’m not bulldozing it; it’ll still be there.”  

            “But it’s going to have some giant road and bridge running through it and that’s not exactly leaving it intact!”

“Okay, so you’d suggest that we slip it all under glass? Let it rot until it’s of no use to anyone?”

            “No, but why here? Why such a large development? It’s greedy.” Kennedy stood, folding her arms in front of her as she stared Owen down.

He stood as well, his spine straight. “Because it’s perfect. It’s right off the main drag. Once you’re over the river and up this hill the land is almost totally flat, perfect for the mere five houses we’re building. That’s it, just five. We’re not going to even touch this.” He gestured around them at the storehouse.

            “But you’re building a bunch of McMansions with huge lawns.”

“That’s what people want!” He shouted, then stopped and took a breath, as if trying to calm himself. “The market is what it is.”

            “But, that’s no reason to choose this spot. There are plenty of other places to give the market what it wants.” She countered.

“This is picturesque Kennedy; that sells. Some little parcel carved out of the natural beauty of this quaint old town. Now they can have their acre out back and their long, private driveway and exclusive neighborhood and still soak up the small-town flavor… from a safe distance.”

            “I get it, but it’s stupid. There’s value in living in an actual community.”

“They will be living in an actual community, a community of fellow cul-de-sac dwellers…” He laughed a little. “No one else can afford it in this market. I have to build for who’s buying.” He paused again and she heard him sigh quietly. “To be honest, it’s the only property I can afford to develop right now. My company needs this project.”

Kennedy didn’t respond. What he said made sense. She knew it was a tough time to be in real estate of any sort, and she could sympathize with his need to make a living even if she didn’t like how he went about it. At least arguing with Owen helped her blood pressure. She didn’t feel like fainting anymore.

He was watching her again. “Let’s go. I looked at the view like I promised.  You got your pictures. I’ll give you a lift back into town.”

            “Wait, you promised someone you’d come out here today?”

“Mrs. Hughes, she didn’t tell you?” He asked with one eyebrow raised.

            “No.” She reminded herself to ask Mrs. Hughes if she was playing games with her, setting her up to run into Owen. “But you didn’t even look. You need to go upstairs and see it from there.”

Owen looked annoyed, but he climbed the stairs anyway and went to the window. She stood with him and watched his face. Slowly something about his expression changed as he viewed the valley below. She tried to see it through his eyes. He owned it after all and if it meant work for his employees and money for his business, she could see how he would rationalize destroying it. But the look on his face wasn’t a greedy one. He looked pensive, like he might be considering all she’d said.

“You do see how beautiful this is, as it is, don’t you?”

Owen turned to her and took a long moment before responding. “Yes.” He was looking at her with interest again, and she involuntarily took a step back. “But one little road cut through… What if I get renderings done, like have an actual artist sketch it out, then you can see what it will look like when it’s finished, not just the plans. I’ll have to do it anyway for the buyers, but I can do it now. For you.”

            “It’s Mrs. Hughes you need to convince.” Kennedy said quickly. “Not me.”

“That’s what I meant.” He replied. “I’ll make you a deal and you can take it to her. The planning board meets soon. I’ll agree to let that meeting be the final word. She can bring her concerns and present them. The board decides. I already have my promise of a building permit from the town, but I’m willing to have them hear her out, hear us both out. But that’s it, no more challenges after that, she’d have to agree to walk away.”

            “But you’re saying you’d walk away too? Are you sure that’s something you can do?”

“I’m sure I’m not going to lose.”

Kennedy was astonished at the quick answer “Confident, aren’t you. But don’t waste your time telling me, this is something you’d have to explain to Mrs. Hughes, in person.”

“Fine, let’s go now.” He turned away and swore softly. His nose had started bleeding again. He pulled the tissues back out of his pocket, but the blood had already ran down his chin again and that image burned right through whatever calm she had gained in the last few minutes.

It was more than she could handle. She looked away and found more tissues left in the pack and handed them to him without looking. He grabbed them out of her hand and said muffled, “Let’s go. Don’t worry. It’ll stop.”

Kennedy climbed back down the stairs and out of the building. She waited for him to leave then locked the door and picked up the bag she had left on the ground. Owen meanwhile had walked back down the hill and close to the river. He leaned over and washed the blood off his hands. When he stood up he took his shirt off as well, as if trying to remove all traces of blood.

She walked down the hill towards him as he was balling up his shirt. Owen with his shirt off was… distracting. It was like when he was nice to her; she wanted to hate him, but he made it hard to do. Kennedy might not like the man, but she’d have to be blind not to appreciate the sheer beauty of him. She ignored the fluttery feelings that were trying to fight past her wobbliness.

Owen walked back to where she waited.  “I’ll drive you back to Mrs. Hughes.” He said like a command, not an offer.

            “I’m fine on the bike.” She snapped at him. “I can’t just leave it here.”

Owen ignored this taking the bag out of her hand and carrying it for her. “I’ve got a roof rack; we’ll take it with us.” He held her arm as if she needed him to lean on while walking.

She grabbed her bag back and shook off his arm. “Are you this overbearing with everyone? I’m fine. I don’t need your help so you can just… go away.” She waved him away, taking a step back.

Owen didn’t move and his eyes held hers for an uncomfortably long time. “I think we both know you’re not up to biking back and I swear I won’t talk to you if you’d rather be ignored. And if you want to stumble your way out of here, that’s okay too. I can respect your right to cut off your nose to spite your face. But I’d rather just give you a lift home.” He held out his hand to her again. She looked down at it and back up to his face.  He was stony again, not a flicker of emotion there.

“Fine.” She let him take her arm again and help her back down the hill. In all honesty she didn’t feel up to biking back. More like a hot shower and a good cry. Arguing with him made her tired, and the blood had made her sick. As the adrenalin in her system slowly seeped away she felt even weaker and a good cry felt more likely. She wished she was the master of her emotions.

Kennedy had come a long way from where she was last spring, holed up in her apartment alone, but still she had these weepy moments and she could feel this one stalking her. It was almost time for lunch. She’d just go back to the house, regroup, and head back to Mrs. Hughes. Maybe Owen could make an appointment and they didn’t have to do this today. She’d have to get him to drop her at Parker House and she’d be in the clear.

They emerged from the heavy cover of the woods into the warm July sun. Owen walked ahead to where she had parked her bike and carried it (like it was nothing) to his car. He didn’t have the sporty-looking one, but an old SUV of some sort. He lifted her bike and tied it to the roof rack with some bungee cords. He also put away his ruined shirt and pulled on a t-shirt instead. It had some faded band logo on it that looked a little incongruous with his suit trousers. She got in the car as he hopped in on the other side. “Owen,” she began as he pulled out of the lot and headed back to town. “I’m not feeling up to meeting with Mrs. Hughes right now. Maybe you could make an appointment with her this week? Could you drop me off at my house instead?” Her voice cracked. Oh crap…

He looked at her quickly with a mix of alarm and empathy on his face and it was that look more than anything else that started her off. Completely disgusted with herself she dropped her face in her hands and balled. “Kennedy.” He crooned as he pulled the car over despite her trying to object. Once they had stopped he leaned out of his seat and put his arms around her and held her. Kennedy wanted to tell him off, push him away, but being held felt too good. All those weeks and weeks of no human contact had left her craving this sensation, this feeling that she was not alone, that someone cared for her. Owen’s arms felt protective, like she might have someone she could lean on, but she knew it was only an illusion.

He said nothing, but held her until she had a grip on herself. “I’m sorry.” She pushed him away. Owen immediately dropped his arms and leaned back into his seat “How many times today am I going to say that to you?” she asked laughing through her tears.

He shook his head. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I didn’t want to bring it up, but I’d guessed that you have trouble with blood.” The way he said it made it sound as if he was going to make light of it and that pissed her off again and she started defending herself.

            “No, or at least I didn’t used to.  I guess that’s going to be one more new quirk I get to have.” She said sarcastically.

He looked at her like he didn’t understand.

She sighed. “Did Will tell you about my mom…” But she stopped when the tears started up again.

Owen’s eyes widened and he leaned towards her, but stopped short. “I am so stupid. I should have caught on – Yes, I know how your mom died. I know the whole story. I didn’t realize–” He started but she cut him off.

“I did it to myself.” She didn’t really want to talk about it, but she wanted to explain so he didn’t think she was some weak loser. “I watched the videotape; the one from the store’s surveillance camera. The victim’s advocate guy from the police said I could watch it if I felt I needed to and stupidly I did.” She tried to hold in a sob. “I thought that imagining how she died was somehow worse and I was so wrong. Nothing could be worse than watching her die was.”

“I can’t believe they did that.” He sounded horrified. “You would think they would know better, warn you how bad it was.”

“He must have thought that somehow seeing her step in for that girl would help, but it was…” she shook her head. “Even though it wasn’t like a movie or anything and it was grainy, it was still enough. Having to identify her was enough. Nobody should have to do that.”

He looked away quickly and opened the center console like he was searching for something. A second later he pulled out a paper napkin for her. She took it and wiped her eyes and nose as well as she could. “We can go now, I’m fine… I’m… Thank you.” But she wasn’t really.

Owen put the car into drive and pulled away. “Would you still like me to drive you home first?”

            “Yes. I was planning on stopping home for lunch before today anyway.” What she did next surprised her. “It’s probably going to be chicken salad and my great aunt Kate will have made plenty, do you want to stay for lunch and then go with me to Mrs. Hughes’?”

Owen looked surprised as well. “I’d love to. Do me a favor though will you?” he turned to her with a slight smile. “Can you accept my apology for being such an ass last weekend?”

            “I think you’ve probably paid for that in full by now.” She pointed up to his face.

“Great!” and sounded he genuinely pleased. “Then one more favor as well? Could you call Will and let him know that you forgive him too?”

 “I didn’t mean to stay mad at Will so long.” She admitted. “I think I was angrier that he didn’t warn me what that party was going to be like than anything else. It was a bit embarrassing to show up there in jeans.”

Owen laughed out loud at this. “I thought you looked great. Will wouldn’t have given that a single thought. He ignores all that stuff. He’d probably show up to his own wedding in jeans and a t shirt.”

            “That would not surprise me.” She replied.

Image credit: Maureen Eijpe via unsplash