Annie searched her mind but nothing clicked. “No, I’m afraid I don’t, but I haven’t been here long, you know. But then, Carla is new to Stony Point too.”
“Did you say Simmons?” It was Stella Brickson whose clacking needles had stilled. She peered over her narrow glasses in Tara’s direction. “What were those initials again?”
“H.T.,” Tara repeated. “That’s all it said. H.T. Simmons.”
Stella pursed her lips and was quiet for a moment. Her penetrating gaze went beyond the small circle of women, and then returned to focus on Tara. “My cousin on my father’s side was named Simmons. Herbert Thorwald. He only lived here in Stony Point for a few years—had a passion for cars, the faster the better. I believe he headed for the Midwest—Indianapolis to be specific. Why, I haven’t thought of H.T. in years. We weren’t close, you see, but …” She broke off and cocked her head. “Why, imagine that woman saving a clipping about someone in my family.”
The three other women stared at Stella, who’d returned to Stony Point late in life after many successful years showcasing artists in New York City. What could Carla Calloway have in common with Stella’s cousin? Annie turned to Tara. “How old was the clipping, Tara?”
“I don’t know. I looked for a date, but it wasn’t there. It was just a circled paragraph, and around it was some stuff about the weather and upcoming events.” She stared at Stella, still nibbling the inside of her cheek.
“Well, it has to be thirty or forty years ago,” Stella said. “H.T., rest his soul, passed in 1990, but he was a young man when he left Stony Point. He took off for the Midwest well after I went to New York. I don’t think he ever came back.” She paused, searching the halls of her memory, and then returned to her knitting. But the frown etched in her forehead lingered.
“That’s odd,” Annie said. “Perhaps the two knew each other.”
“Did your cousin have curly black hair?” Tara asked. “I mean … really curly, like mine?”
“Certainly not,” Stella said. “He was a towhead. His hair was so blond it was almost white, even as a teenager. Mind you, when he took off for the Speedway he’d lost most of it. The Simmons men were prone to early baldness.”
“Well, then the hair couldn’t be his, but maybe he gave her the ring. Maybe the two of them were …”
When Stella glared over her glasses, and Tara didn’t finish her sentence, Annie said, “You never know. History has an odd way of twisting and turning. Thirty or forty years is a long time. Stony Point must have all kinds of secrets.” She gave Tara an apologetic glance. “Sadly, we haven’t learned much about your mother yet.”
“Well, I’m going to go through some of the Simmons archives,” Stella said, pursing her lips once more and whacking away at her knitting. “I’m sorry that woman’s ill, but I can’t imagine what she has to do with my deceased cousin.”
Annie rolled her eyes at Alice. Stella was a proud woman, as she supposed all New Englanders were, and it was no doubt natural that she wouldn’t appreciate learning about her family from some outsider like the prickly Carla Calloway. But Annie knew Stella’s straightlaced demeanor covered a heart as tender as rose petals. She’d throw in her share when they ordered flowers to be delivered to Carla’s room.
“I—I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tara whispered to Annie when they gathered up their things and prepared to leave the shop. “Carla would probably fire me if she knew I’d told you all about the clipping. It’s just that I feel sorry for her. She’s so—I don’t know—troubled. And she has been good to me.”
And likely it takes one troubled soul to recognize another, Annie thought, regarding Tara’s brooding eyes. Maybe Carla also recognized a fellow sufferer. Maybe that’s why she was gentle with Tara when she was such a bear with everyone else.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “Stella’s bark is much worse than her bite, and Alice and I won’t say anything to hurt Carla. We’d like to help her too. All of us would. That’s why we’re having the benefit for the animals. And speaking of animals, you’d better go collect little Blackie. Mary Beth won’t let you out the door without your charge.”
“You mean?” Tara started with a lift of her eyebrows.
“Yes, Blackie’s for you. You can keep her in your room at Grey Gables, and when you leave you can take her along with you. Boots and I will have a little talk about this temporary arrangement. She’ll behave herself. I won’t let her swallow the poor thing.”