'For God's sake, Rachel, Owen is scarcely dead in his grave and you're taking up with a… a hellion like Gentry?'
'Tell me,' she said, narrowing her eyes. 'Exactly what do you think made him that way?'
'That's not the point!'
'Oh, and what is?' 241
'The point is, I will not have you spoiling your reputation by being seen with the most notorious skirt chaser this county's ever seen!'
She was every inch her father's daughter as she returned coolly, 'And if I choose to see him?'
'So you are seeing him!'
She studied him levelly for some time before asking quietly, 'What are you so scared of, Daddy?'
He let his shoulders wilt, blew out an exasperated breath, and gestured appealingly. 'Rachel, for heaven's sake, he's been married three times, he drinks like a fish, and he-was
'No, Daddy,' she interrupted, shaking her head slowly. 'That's not it at all and we both know it. You're afraid that if I start seeing Tommy Lee again you may be forced to come face to face with your own guilt.'
'My guilt!' He was enraged now, gesturing angrily. 'You disgraced us with him once. Wasn't that enough?'
Again she shook her head, saddened by his inability to bend, to recognize his own fault in creating some of the wounds that had gone unhealed all
these years.
'No, Daddy, we didn't disgrace you. You disgraced us. By sending me away and treating me as if what we'd done was unforgivable. To us it wasn't. To us it wasn't sordid or… or immoral. We loved each other!'
Again he gestured with an upturned palm. 'Rachel, we did what we thought was best for all.'
'Did you?' she asked softly, sadly. 'Then tell me why you and the Gentrys never talked to each other again.'
The room grew hushed and neither of them moved a muscle. Everett's face slowly grayed while Rachel stood firm, facing him squarely. Then suddenly he lurched around her, heading for the door. She grabbed his arm, begging, 'Daddy, could we talk about it? Please?'
But Everett jerked free and proclaimed angrily, 'There is nothing to talk about!' then slammed out the door leaving her feeling hopeless and sad and wondering if it would ever be possible to untangle the webs of the past.
Why did I goad him? Why didn't I just come right out and say that there really is nothing between
Tommy Lee and me? 243
The answer was simple. There would always be something between them, no matter how hard she fought it. And it seemed only a matter of time before it would all come to a head.
Rachel was still blue later that day when Marshall stopped by after his usual Sunday afternoon visit to his daughter's. She answered the bell to find him standing on her step with slumped shoulders and a dejected face.
'Why, Marshall, what's wrong?'
'Carolyn and I had a fight.'
'A fight!'
Rachel might have chuckled; in a way it was amusing to think of the mild-mannered Marshall fighting with anybody. But she could see he was truly down in the dumps even before he added, 'And furthermore, I hate the idea of facing the empty house. Want to take a ride?'
It was so rare to find Marshall in low spirits that Rachel wouldn't have dreamed of refusing. Especially not after all the times he'd cheered her up.
'Why not? I haven't been exactly on top
of the world myself today.'
He drove as if he didn't care where he was going, and they ended up near the small town of Phil Campbell about ten miles south of Russellville. When he turned in at the entrance of the Dismal Gardens, Rachel teased, 'The Dismals? On an evening when I'm supposed to be cheering you up?'
Marshall smiled distractedly. 'Apropos, isn't it?' Then he glanced out the window. 'I haven't been out here in years. Have you?'
'No, not since I was a child.'
'Care to take a walk through?'
'Why not?'
They parked, and Marshall paid their admission as they entered the gardens through a little country museum house, then stepped down into a rocky depression surrounded by house-size boulders that created the gateway to the park. They wandered through the waning afternoon, companionably silent, letting the surroundings ease their troubles.
Unlike their name, the Dismal Gardens were stunningly beautiful, a refreshing breath of untainted nature in a setting left untouched by man since the canyon and its surrounding woods
and caves had been inhabited by the 245 Paleo Indians 10,000 years before. The gardens took their name from the dismalites, tiny incandescent worms that lived in the moss on the rock cliffs and shone like stars at night.
As Rachel and Marshall entered the park, the sun was still above the cliffs, and they followed a clear tumbling river into shaded coolness where the air was thick with the fecund smell of moss and leaf mold. They explored stunning rock formations with such names as Pulpit Rock, the Grotto, and Fat Man's Misery.
It was peaceful here, restorative. A pileated woodpecker flashed through the forest in a wink of red. Wild hydrangea vines clung to the high walls where trailing arbutus sprouted magically from the face of sheer rock. Farther along they came to Phantom Falls, a tiny opening no more than ten feet in diameter. Inside, they stopped and lifted their faces toward the small circle of sky overhead, listening to the roar of water echoing mysteriously through the depression, though the falls themselves were some 250 feet downstream.
When Rachel dropped her eyes, she found
Marshall studying her with an odd look on his face. She laughed nervously and moved along the trail, calling back, 'Well, come on, slowpoke, get a move on!'
The expression changed to a sheepish grin as he followed at her heels. But when they reached Rainbow Falls, she again sensed his gaze on her as if he was puzzling something out. She lifted her eyes to the twin rainbows high overhead, which were caught by the sunlight that couldn't reach into the shady depths where they stood. She feared he hadn't invited her here for anything as simple as a breath of fresh air. In a moment her suspicions were verified as he spoke in a serious tone.
'Rachel, I heard something today that's rather disturbing.'
'Oh?' She dropped her eyes to find he'd been studying her intently, but immediately he glanced at his feet.
'It… well, it could be a rumor. You know how small towns are.'
'Gossip, you mean?'
His eyes met hers again. 'I hope so.' He suddenly captured her hand and tugged her toward a large boulder. 'Let's sit down.' When they were
seated side by side he dropped her 247 hand, seemed to struggle for the right words, and finally lifted his gaze to hers, asking, 'Rachel, have you been seeing Tommy Lee Gentry?'
With unexpected swiftness her blood came to life and her heart started banging. 'What do you mean, have I been seeing him?'
'His car has been seen at your house.'
Frantically she searched for an answer. 'Tommy Lee and I are old friends,' she answered vaguely.
'That doesn't answer my question.' He swallowed and continued. 'Friends or no friends, you know what kind of man he is.'
She suddenly grew incensed with people pointing their fingers at Tommy Lee when they knew so little about what drove him. 'Oh? And what kind of man is he, Marshall?' Rachel surprised even herself with her brusque tone.
He jumped off the rock, presenting his back to her while jamming his hands into his pockets. 'Oh, come on,
