Leaving Liberty (12 page)

                   
 ***

Nita carried a stack of picture books to
the desk, a little black-haired girl trailing behind her. Her messy ponytail
and scuffed shoes made Daisy smile. She wished she could go back to a time when
she didn’t notice how her hair looked or whether she was wearing nice things.
Back when it was simple, easy. Then again, nothing had ever been really easy.

“Nita, are you our summer teacher? Are
we starting tomorrow? I’ve already got all my points. I just need to write them
down.” Her little voice carried through the library. A young woman dressed in a
halter top and shorts loitered at the bottom of the stairs, pecking at her cell
phone, tan legs shifting restlessly.

“Hurry, Jasmine. We got things to do.”
Her voice was too loud for the space but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Can I help?” Daisy hadn’t been trained
on the computer system yet, but she needed to learn everything as quickly as
possible.

Nita gave Daisy a smile as she came
around the desk, setting the stack of papers on the counter. “Sure, why don’t
you put due date stickers in the back after I scan them.” Nita shoved a stack
of picture books toward her.

“Oh, Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. She’s great.”
Daisy held it up for a better look. Plump Mrs. Piggle Wiggle always had a way
to solve every problem she came across. She needed someone like that in her
life right now.

“She’s not real.” Jasmine’s voice cut
through Daisy’s thoughts. Serious brown eyes stared up over the edge of the
counter.

“No?” Daisy put a sticker in the back of
the book and reached for another.

“Well,” Jasmine paused, big eyes
shifting toward the door, “I thought she was. But my sister says nothing in
books is real.”

“Oh.” Daisy frowned. The book in her
hand was a 3-D picture book on tigers, complete with folding glasses. “Not even
this?”

Jasmine hesitated. “Maybe some books are
a little real.”

 “I think you’re right.” Another
sticker in the back, another book in the plastic bag from under the counter.
Most kids had a library bag, but Daisy had always been the kind who got the
recycled grocery sack, too.

“Like that one!” Her brown eyes went
wide, small hand reaching over the counter and pointing.

“This?” Daisy examined a well-loved copy
of a brown bear in search of his button. “You think so?”

“I had a teddy bear and she was always with
me and then one night she was gone. I think she’s exploring.”

Daisy glanced at Nita who said nothing,
just smiled. Poor kid. The bear was probably thrown out by the teenage sister
that didn’t believe anything in books was real.

“You sure you didn’t leave her
somewhere?”

“Sure.” Jasmine nodded until a long
strand came loose from her ponytail holder and floated around her face. “She’s
out exploring and she’ll come back. Her name is Kayla, Warrior Princess.”

Daisy put a sticker in the back and
tried not to laugh out loud. The bear was a warrior princess and was out
exploring, no doubt about it. She was used to kids, being a grade school
teacher, but by 5
^th
grade they’d all grown past the need for stuffed
animals. They were more concerned with crushes and making the baseball team.

“I had a stuffed bunny once and he rode
in the front basket of my bicycle.”

“Did he like it?”

 “Yeah, I think so. His ears would
flap around like he was happy.”

A little smile creased Jasmine’s face,
like she was picturing it.

The worn, long-limbed rabbit that had
been Daisy’s constant companion until Rocky had thrown him in a bag with some
junk and dropped it off at the thrift store. A brief sobriety gave her a week
of cooked meals and a clean living room, but Bun-bun was never seen again.

“Come on, Jazz, we gotta go.” The teen
stomped up to the counter, still staring at her phone.

“We’re almost done.” Daisy smiled at
her, but there was no response, not even a glance.

“I’ll get all my prizes next week when we
come for reading program. Right, Nita?”

“We’ll talk about it on Tuesday, dear.”
Nita gave a wave and the disappointed girl followed her sister to the door.

“You give all the prizes at once?”

“Never. We log them week by week, level
by level. And they have to start fresh, not counting the books they read before
the program started. She knows that, but telling her now won’t help. It will
probably just get Breezy in more of a snit.”

Daisy figured the tan girl in the short
shorts was Breezy. In Fresno, her own name was a little unusual but here it
just reminded her how hick people named their kids. Jasmine, Daisy, Breezy.
Ugh. She should be glad she wasn’t named after a car, or knowing her dad, a
favorite beer. The thought made her snort.

Nita raised an eyebrow. “Having a good
day?”

“Not really. Just… thinking.” She didn’t
feel like she could really share her thoughts with Nita. Honestly, the woman
was a little intimidating. Marie had been short and soft and round, all smiles
and hugs. Nita was tall and thin and strong, quietly getting the job done
without a lot of chatter.

“Heard you’re renting Lane’s cabin.”

News travels fast. “For the summer.”

Nita focused on straightening the golf
pencils in the plastic caddy on the desk. “It’s a nice place.”

           
“You’ve been out there?”

           
“Sure. Such a shame about Colt. His mother never really recovered. They sold
their house and moved to Denver because they couldn’t stand being here any
longer.”

           
“It was an accident, right?” She didn’t want to pry, didn’t want to be the nosy
newcomer, but she’d wondered. And it seemed a safe time to ask.

           
“Sort of.” Nita shook her head, now stacking the small stack of slips.

           
Daisy blinked. Not many fatal ‘sort of’ accidents she could think of, but
either Nita was going to tell her or she wasn’t.

           
“The bridge was under construction, out by Reeser Road, toward their cabin.
Jason Postlewait was heading the crew over there. He forgot to set up the
warning lights. The whole town knew the bridge was out and to take the long
way. But Colt was away for his freshman year at Fort Collins and came home late
one Friday. Thought he’d run out to his grandparent’s house first and say hi.”

           
Nita’s voice trailed off. She stacked and restacked the little papers, her mind
far away.

           
With a sickening clarity, Daisy could envision the little bridge. A few signs
in front would have seemed to be enough if everyone knew there was work going
on. Enough for most everybody but a young kid cruising home in the dark. No
flashing lights to give him any warning, probably hit the wooden road signs and
went right through before he could stop. Her head started to swim, she sucked
in air, blinking back the dark spots in her vision.

           
“Sit down, you don’t look so good.” Nita was pressing her into a chair.

           
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the cobwebs, get a grip. But her heart
was thudding and the ringing in her ears got louder and louder.

           
“Take a deep breath.” She was pushing Daisy’s head between her knees now,
rubbing her shoulder. “You’ll be okay.”

           
After a few more seconds the ringing faded away and her vision cleared. “I’m
all right.” She sat up slowly, taking deep breaths. “Sorry, not sure what
happened.”

           
“You have any breakfast?”

           
“Yes.” Hours ago. A cereal bar while packing. She’d been so worried about
getting started on the applications.

           
“Did you know Colt?”

           
Daisy searched her memory and only came up with a few scenes, just the normal
interactions in a small town. Tall kid, good at football, easy laugh. “Not
really. So, is Jason in jail now?”

           
“Oh, no.” Nita waved a hand, as if the idea was a pesky fly.

           
“Wasn’t he guilty of manslaughter? Extreme negligence?”

           
“He admitted guilt. I think there was a fine and three years of probation. It
was an accident. Lane convinced his family to request the lightest sentence
possible.”

           
If Daisy hadn’t been sitting down, she would have had to find a chair. “Lane
didn’t want him to go to jail? His brother died!”

           
Nita gave her a sharp glance, black eyes flashing. “Yes, dear, I’m sure he
realizes that. But Jason was a newlywed with a baby on the way. He didn’t
murder Colt. He made a terrible mistake. He’ll live with that mistake the rest
of his life.”

           
She sat back, reeling. If anyone had been to blame for Marie’s death she would
have had them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But Lane had asked
for leniency. She couldn’t wrap her mind- or her heart- around the idea.

           
There was a pause, then Nita gathered up some large craft books from the shelf
under the counter. “I’m going to get the lessons planned for next week’s
program. What do you think of Tuesdays? Toddlers during the morning, elementary
kids in the afternoon.”

Daisy struggled to catch up, mind back
with a broken bridge and a grieving family. “Any day is fine. Just let me know
what you want me to do. While you plan, I’ll man the desk. I have some papers
to work on.”

“And we don’t have any budget for
reading level prizes but I was thinking I could go to the dollar store in
Denver and pick up a few things.”

           
 “I can help with that. I have the numbers for each class and we can
calculate how much we can spend. Do you want me to come along?”

           
The older woman tilted her head, as if searching for the right words. “That
would be nice. Next Friday? The library doesn’t open until two. I could pick
you up.”

           
“Sounds good.” Daisy smiled. Well, it would be nice to get out of Liberty for
the morning, even if it was just to hit the bargain stores. At least the woman
wasn’t a nosy gossip. She had a feeling Nita didn’t think too much of her.

           
Daisy eased out of her chair and stood up, checking to see if the edges of her
vision stayed clear. The pain of the accident had stabbed her with a shocking
ferocity that made her heart ache and her throat constrict.

           
Gathering the papers, Daisy sifted through them for the easiest place to start.
Her mind kept flashing back to Lane’s face in the driveway, his lips whispering
prayers. What kind of man could forgive his brother’s killer? The word
‘accident’ didn’t cover what had happened, that was for fender benders and
broken windows. Someone was to blame and someone should have paid the price for
a life cut short but Lane had chosen mercy.

           
She didn’t want to like him, and really didn’t want to admire him. He had an
irritating way of pointing out all the flaws in her plans and there was the
problem of that smile, the one that made her forget her angry retorts. Without
her permission, she could feel her heart opening bit by bit, unable to keep
guarded against him the way she wanted to be. Even with Rocky as his friend,
she couldn’t write Lane off. Not completely. There was much more to the man
than someone determined to close the old library for safety reasons.

           
Heaving a deep sigh, she started to fill out the forms for federal grants.
Saving the library was one of the scariest tasks she’d ever undertaken. But she
couldn’t let it go. She was meant to be here, fighting for what Marie had
built, her legacy. If Lane wasn’t on the opposite side of the battle, she might
have to worry about her heart. But as it was, there was less than the slimmest
chance of zero possibility. And that was being generous.

                                                                       
Chapter Eleven

           
Lane
paused on his morning walk back toward the station and gazed thirty feet into
the air. Sam let out a sharp bark and stood at attention. A middle aged man was
crouched on the slanted roof of the old Liberty Library, hands splayed against
the glass of the tiny attic window, looking exactly like an early morning
peeping Tom.

           
“Hey, Chet, what are you doing up there?” Lane called.

           
“Morning to you, Lane. Hey, Sam.” His voice was slow, easy. Nothing much got
under Chet Adams’s skin.

           
“Are you tied down?” Lane crossed the lawn, eyes fixed on the man’s heels. One
slip and he’d take a serious, possibly fatal, fall.

           
“I’m not afraid of heights. Just walkin’ around up here, checking the roof.”

           
Lane gritted his teeth. Obviously Chet wasn’t afraid of falling. But he should
be. His old work boots looked worn smooth on the bottom, and there wasn’t even
a branch nearby to catch hold of if he lost his footing. Sam wagged his golden
retriever body against Lane’s leg, as if to tell him it would be fine. But the
dog wasn’t psychic as far as he could tell.