Buried Passions Read online

Chet looked like I’d just told him he stepped in a pile of horseshit. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “You can stay here if you’d like. The television is upstairs, and you can watch whatever you want.” I knew Chet hated television. We never got the chance to watch anything because we were always working when things were on, and it was too much hassle to record everything and try to find time to watch it.

  “What else is there to do?”

  “You could go for a walk downtown,” I offered.

  Chet put his hands on his hips, glaring at me. “There has to be something fun to do here. Why in the heck did you let me come if it was so boring? Interesting food?”

  I laughed until I couldn’t see straight. “No way. Nothing here you can’t find anywhere else. People here work for a living, and believe it or not, they cook. This isn’t like New York. Just get dressed and we’ll be productive for a while. Besides, I can introduce you to Luka. He’ll be mowing the grass today because of all the rain we’ve had.”

  Chet grumbled as he left the kitchen, and I heard him mumbling still when I went up to dress. He didn’t stop as we got in the car and I drove him to the cemetery and parked in my usual spot. The hum of a lawn mower cut the morning air, tinged with the scent of freshly mowed grass. I closed the car door and inhaled deeply. Chet rolled his eyes and followed me across the berm and into the cemetery. I stopped when I saw Luka, and Chet bumped into me, staring off to the side. I followed his gaze.

  “Is that him?” Chet pointed, his eyes bugging and his tongue hanging out.

  “Yes. That’s Luka.” I smiled as I watched him.

  Chet turned to me, slapping my back. “Why in the hell would you come back to New York or anywhere if you have him waiting for you here? Oh my God, I think I just came in my pants.” He grabbed my shoulder. “He’s really been coming to see you?”

  Luka turned, saw me, and raised his hand in greeting, his smile rivaling the sun. I waved back, and Luka turned off the mower, then walked over, his T-shirt hugging his torso.

  “Holy shit,” Chet whispered.

  “Get a grip,” I whispered under my breath as Luka got closer. “Luka, this is my friend Chet. He came in from New York yesterday. He’s going to help us for a while.”

  Chet extended his hand, and Luka accepted it.

  “Chet,” I said when he didn’t release Luka’s hand right away.

  “You and him?” Chet asked. Luka shrugged, and I rolled my eyes. “No way. He’s way too hot for you.”

  I wanted to smack him, especially at the way he spoke about Luka as though he wasn’t there. “Don’t be rude,” I sniped.

  Chet seemed to blink himself out of the hole of idiocy he’d fallen into. “Sorry.” He at least had the decency to blush. “It’s nice to meet you.” Chet rocked back on his heels. “So, this is the cemetery. Nice place.”

  I waited for the joke.

  “Great ambiance. No wonder people are dying to get in.”

  “That’s bad even for you,” I retorted. “You desperately need to get some new material.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Chet stepped away, and I let him go, turning my attention to Luka. “I missed you last night.”

  Luka moved closer. “I did not know if I should come, with your friend….” He spoke haltingly, as if thinking about each word.

  “I wish you had, but I understand if you’re not comfortable.” I glanced at Chet, who was pretending to look around the grounds but found us more interesting, judging by the way he kept coming back to us.

  Luka shifted from foot to foot and then walked back to the lawn mower, started it up, and went back to work.

  I rolled my eyes at Chet and led him to the toolshed. “You can be a real ass sometimes,” I chastised as we walked. “You don’t need to stare at him. He doesn’t speak English very well and is trying to improve.” Chet opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him a chance. “You know, people overlook him all the time because his English isn’t good, but he’s working hard on it and he got a new job in the evenings.” I yanked open the shed door and trudged in, still building a head of steam. “So you don’t need to talk past him like he’s not there.”

  Chet took a step back, raising his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was….” He paused. “Man, you got it bad for him.”

  I shook my head slowly. “There’s just no need to be rude.” I grabbed a rake and shoved it into Chet’s hands. “We may as well get started.” I picked up a shovel and a second rake, closed the shed door, and led Chet to where we’d be working to level out the ground as best we could.

  “What about the stumps?”

  “I’m having someone come in to grind them out. We need to level the rest of the ground and make it safe for people so there aren’t any hidden hazards.” I got Chet started, and he went at it with all the enthusiasm of one about to clean out a septic tank with a toothbrush. Not that I had expected very much. This definitely wasn’t Chet’s kind of thing. I should have found something else for us to do, but this needed to get done to make sure the area was free of obstacles.

  “If I wanted to do hard labor, at least I could have done something fun to deserve it,” Chet grumbled as he slowly raked the ground.

  “Okay. You don’t have to help if you don’t want to. I’m not going to force you. But I have work to do, and if we get this done, then we’ll have more of the day to do something interesting.” I tried to put a positive spin on it, and Chet nodded and actually put his mind to work.

  “You’re right, I shouldn’t act prissy. It’s not you. I keep wondering what I did to blow that audition.” He continued raking as I tossed dirt from the high patches into depressions in the soil.

  “You know it might have been nothing other than the director wanting a different look.” I kept shoveling, relieved I hadn’t gone through that again. “And there are a lot of other things you can do besides theater. You’re talented and you have a gift for visualization. Go into set design or something like that.”

  Chet stopped raking, leaning against the handle. “I love being onstage. It’s what really gets me up in the morning, and being out of work like this always makes me antsy. I always wonder if my last show was the last show. You know what I mean?” He looked up, and the fear in his eyes nearly knocked me down.

  In that instant I saw the difference between us. Yes, I was concerned about not having a part, but I wasn’t terrified. I had a good reputation and knew a part would come my way eventually. I might have to pound the pavement a little, but I wasn’t worried about it, not the way Chet was.

  “Just relax and let it go if you can. It’s a slow time, but in a month or two, there will be activity. There always is. A few shows will close, others will start production, and everything will work out. Payton is working on it for both of us.” I wasn’t sure how successful my comforting was.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out. “Hi, Charles. What’s happening?”

  “Where are you right now? Can we talk?”

  “I’m at Ashford. Why?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Charles said in a rush.

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” I hung up and slid the phone back into my pocket, wondering what could have gotten him so worked up and what was so urgent that he had to come to me.

  The area grew quiet, and I realized the lawn mower engine had gone silent. Luka had finished mowing and put the equipment away. He must have started early to have it done by now.

  “You need help?” Luka asked as he joined us.

  “Thanks, yes.”

  He smiled, and I forced one, which made Luka come closer.

  “What wrong?” he asked. “I can tell. You usually happy.”

  “I am when I’m around you, yes,” I agreed. “Charles is coming over. He said he’d be here in a few minutes. He’s a lawyer, everyone usually comes to him, so something is wrong.” I could tell in my bones. Not that it was a huge stretch.

  “I go to work,” Luka said, and I shook my
head.

  “Stay with me while I talk to him.” I took Luka’s hand as Chet approached the two of us.

  “What’s with the gabfest? Some of us are actually working.” Thankfully he was teasing, or I’d have had to smack the grin off his face.

  “Something wrong,” Luka told him. “Lawyer is coming here.”

  Just like that, Chet stood on the other side of me as a blue sedan parked behind Uncle Samuel’s car and Charles strode over to us.

  “I see you have a contingent with you,” Charles said as he walked up the path, and I made introductions. “We need to talk, and I need to know how to proceed with something that’s come up, regarding this.” He motioned around him dramatically.

  “Then go ahead. I’ll tell them anyway.” I held Luka’s hand more tightly.

  “It seems that word has spread about what you’ve done here and what was found. That there were interesting burials here. I got a call from Martin Weston, the head of the borough council, and they’re interested in taking over the cemetery. They could put it under the umbrella of the Old Town Cemetery and the borough would take over management and upkeep. They wouldn’t pay you anything for it, but they would take over any future obligations.”

  “Hey, that’s great for you,” Chet said, and I glared at him to keep quiet before turning back to Charles.

  “They’d take over management… or mismanagement, more likely. Have you seen that place?” I asked Charles. Of course he had. Duh. “It’s near the house, and I’ve driven around it. The outer wall is falling down, and the grass is only mowed when it gets knee-high. The gates are rusted, and no one seems to take care of anything.” I turned to Luka, the steam building up. “They only want it now because of all the hard work we’ve done, and the first thing they’d do is put Luka out of work. And it’s due to him that they’re interested in it in the first place. I can’t do that. We can do things to make this viable into the future, and we’ll move ahead with that. But I told you before and I mean it, I’m going to keep it.”

  Just like that, what I wanted for the future, at least in part, solidified in my mind.

  “Whoa, whoa, slow down. You called me a week ago, unable to figure out what you were going to do with a graveyard, and now you want to keep it for life? Are you sure? This sounds like the perfect solution: the borough takes over the management of the cemetery, you’re out of the dead people business, and you can move on with your life. That’s all there is to it.” He stood in front of me, hands on his hips. “Come on, Jonah, think this through.”

  “Chet!” I was about to yell at him, but the wisdom of what he was saying sank in. How was I supposed to run this place from New York? Charles had good ideas that could be looked into, but they all required capital to get started and a long-term commitment, and this would take care of everything. It was what I wanted… or had wanted.

  I turned to Luka, who looked for a second as though I’d killed his puppy, and then his expression cleared. His fingers left mine, and he took a step away. I felt the distance like a blow.

  “Charles, at this point I’m not interested in doing anything,” I said quietly. “We have a lot of work yet to do, and I know the borough, or anyone who might take this over after me, isn’t going to do it. So it’s up to me.” I pointed to the back. “That’s my family, a part of my history, and over there is a part of the nation’s history. All of that was hidden, and I think there’s more. No one will look for it but Luka and me. He cares about this place, and I’ve developed a connection to it.” God, I wished I could explain why I wanted to hold on to a cemetery of all things, but I did. “And I won’t hurt Luka. He works too hard and is too good a person.” I turned, holding Luka’s gaze, silently begging him to come closer to me once again. “Please tell the borough that the cemetery is going to remain as it is. If they want to be supportive, that wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I’m going to keep it.”

  Charles nodded. “You know there will be a tax bill in a few months….”

  “Yes….” I grinned. “Get the borough’s offer in writing. Make them put the details of exactly what they’re offering down on paper and give it to you. Until then, we aren’t going to worry about it. They can talk all they like, but until an actual offer is made, it’s just talk.” I turned to Chet, who nodded, but Luka seemed concerned and stayed where he was.

  “That’s prudent,” Charles agreed and checked his watch before sighing. “But I….”

  “What is it?” I pressed.

  “I think the borough isn’t going to give you much choice. They’ve decided they want it now that maybe they can build some history on it. They have signs all over town about buildings that no longer exist, and a sign because George Washington worshipped at a church in town during the Whiskey Rebellion. They are going to make as big a deal as they can about having a signer of the Declaration of Independence buried in town, and they are going to want to control it. I don’t know what tactic they’re going to take yet, but it could mean a fight.”

  I turned to Chet, who clearly thought I should just give up and let them have it. Hell, from the longing expression in his eyes, all he wanted was to get the hell out of here and never see this place again. Luka looked as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I was torn. I was being given what I’d thought I wanted, and now I was hesitating. And I knew exactly why. Because I could help Luka. Damn it all, Chet was right: I’d fallen in love with him. Seeing Luka nervous and unsure ripped at my guts, and I hated every second of it. At the moment that was what mattered.

  “Tell them to put their offer in writing and that we’ll consider it. They aren’t going to offer any money, of course.” I leaned closer. “But just so you know, I have every intention of fighting them. This may be a cemetery, and I may have never meant to own one, but I do now. It’s mine and I’ll decide what happens with it. Not them.” I met both Chet’s and Luka’s gaze. One made me long for the inside of that equipment shed. The other seemed shocked, but even Chet nodded slowly.

  “Then why the offer in writing?” Charles asked.

  “One of their powers is the ability to tax, right? And I bet they’d reclassify the land so it requires more in taxes.”

  Charles smiled. “Property taxes in PA are based on market value. If they aren’t willing to pay anything for the cemetery, then it has no value and they can’t tax it. They have to have a basis for it.” He nodded as though the idea were fully forming in his head. Charles stared at me for two seconds and then threw his head back in a deep belly laugh. “Dang, this is really good. They can’t have it both ways.”

  “Nope.” I grinned. “So let’s make them do things the way they should and see if we can’t hang them with their own rope. In the meantime, we have work to do. Have you been able to find all of the cemetery records?”

  “Yes. I was able to have an assistant go through everything and put together a comprehensive map of each plot. Some of the names were difficult to read on the old documents, but we have a picture of what is still available, and it should be enough to build what we talked about.”

  “Excellent. Then we’ll develop a plan. That will be something else we can use to fight the borough if we have to. They’ll claim the cemetery is played out and that they’re taking it to preserve it. But if we have plans, that kills their argument.”

  Charles chuckled. “You should have been a lawyer instead of a performer. You’d have been damn good at it.”

  “Thanks.”

  We shook hands, and Charles went back to his car. I returned to the others but wasn’t as gung ho as I had been about working. Still, we were here, and with Luka helping, we got a lot of the area smoothed out before Luka started hauling the chips from the pile to create pathways. It was a great idea, and with him hauling and Chet and I leveling and spreading, we had a nice path into the section that wound through to the back. Now people could enter and see the graves and stones without getting muddy. All that was really missing was some grass.

  “What a
difference,” I said as I stood at the head of the path, surveying the newly cleared area. “You did great work,” I told Luka. “Thank you.” We still needed to repair the stones that we could and replace others that had broken, but it was coming together.

  “What we do now?” Luka asked. “I plant grass and it done. You leave now?”

  The way he said it, imbued with fear and loneliness, made me stop. He was right. I didn’t have any particular reason to stay. I could defend my property rights from New York, but I wasn’t ready to leave. I didn’t want to say goodbye.

  “No. There is nothing for me to go back to right now.” At least not yet, and I was content here. “I’m happy.” I moved closer to Luka and caught a glimpse of Chet in my peripheral vision, rolling his eyes and wandering away. “You make me happy.”

  “I do? Then you stay?” Luka wrapped his arms around me and hauled me off my feet as he spun me around. “I want you to stay forever.”

  I held him too. I wasn’t sure about forever, but I could definitely stay for a while yet. There were still things I needed to do. Now I simply needed to get my head together long enough to figure it out.

  Of course, the moment Luka kissed me, the ability to think flew out the window. I held him, sighing as he kissed me deeper.

  “You stay,” Luka whispered, nearly squeezing the life out of me.

  A throat clearing brought me back to reality. “You two should get a room,” Chet quipped as he approached.

  “I get to work,” Luka said. “Billy want me to work afternoon so I can train. Then I go to the Grill to work late.”

  “So I’m not going to see you?” I asked.

  “You want me to come?”

  I nodded. “I’ll be up until you get to the house. Call me if you need me to pick you up. I don’t want you walking downtown late.” I hated the fact that he walked everywhere. This was a small town, but the Carlisle papers reported the same problems as everywhere else. Hell, I was from New York, and the thought of walking alone at night down quiet or empty streets made my hair stand on end.

  “I will be fine. I walk all the time.”