TEXAS ROADS (A Miller's Creek Novel Book 1) (26 page)

Less than half an hour later, she placed the assorted papers and knick-knacks from the dresser in a stray box, one furniture piece now ready to go. Groaning as she rose to her feet, her fatigued muscles voiced their complaint, and she stumbled against the trunk behind her. With a large humped lid and leather straps, it reminded her of what an immigrant from Europe would use on a ship voyage to the new country. A grin snaked across her face. What if it contained buried treasure? Chiding herself for an overactive imagination, she lifted the lid and peered inside, the scent of cedar and mothballs overpowering her nostrils.

Baby clothes? And not just any baby clothes, but beautiful, hand-sewn garments embroidered with dainty stitches. Dani fingered the delicate fabric. What baby? She removed the clothing carefully, uncovering old photographs atop two crocheted baby blankets, the picture on top of a handsome young man. She gasped at the likeness. Steve? No, the photograph looked too old. Dusting her hands against her jeans, she picked up the photo and flipped it over.
“Dearest Beth, All my love forever, Bo.”

Had there once been some kind of relationship between Bo Miller and Mama Beth? She puzzled over the question for a minute then dug further. There had to be a clue about the baby clothes somewhere. A few minutes later, ready to abandon search, her fingers landed on a book at the bottom right-hand side of the trunk and she carefully removed it. Made of leather, with ragged and well-worn pages, the old journal looked ancient. Dani cracked open the cover and glimpsed the hand-penned words written within. Mama Beth’s writing, but it would have to wait. Tucking the journal beneath her arm, she slammed the trunk lid and hurried to her room, already dreading what lay ahead.

After washing the gray dust from her fingertips, she moved to her laptop to deal with urgent e-mails, but instead the old book once again captured her attention. She glanced at the clock. Time to leave for downtown, but something about the journal cried out to her. Oh well, a few more minutes wouldn’t matter.

Within two pages, a knot lodged in her throat and refused to budge.

* * *

Steve lounged on the sofa with an opened Bible on his lap in the quiet hush of a new day.
Bear with. Be patient. Forgive as Christ forgave you.
He knew what he needed to do. The words were clear and unrelenting.

Laying aside his Bible, he shifted to the window, the pink blush of dawn barely visible. A subtle change had come over Dani. The recent times he’d seen her at church or downtown, she’d been lost in thought, her light blue eyes troubled, tired and restless.

He rubbed a hand over his head. Trying to think through everything was pointless, like swimming in a haze of feelings and events which made no sense. He wanted to trust her, but there were so many unanswered questions. Andy had moved back to Dallas two weeks ago, their business dealings now transacted by phone and fax. Was his absence the reason for her distant look?

His chest collapsed as a heavy sigh escaped. Dani wasn’t the only one who had changed. Mama Beth seemed bothered by something, and that worried him. In her condition the last thing she needed was stress, and if he had to venture a guess, her worried look most likely had something to do with Cecille.

Steve returned to the couch and picked up the Bible, the word forgive leaping from the page.

Forgive her.

There was no mistaking the message or the messenger.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T
ears streamed down Dani’s cheeks and plopped onto the journal’s time-worn page. With a thumb and the corner of her shirt she blotted it dry. She couldn’t read more. She wished she hadn’t read any.

Did Mama Beth still love Bo? According to the journal, her aunt had once believed they would marry someday. Instead he’d returned from college with a wife and child. Evelyn and Steve. She used the palms of her hands to wipe her dampened face, overwhelmed by her aunt’s heartbreak. To see the Miller family around town must have been so painful for Mama Beth. How could she live in Miller’s Creek with such unrequited feelings for a man who belonged to someone else?

The last question landed with a thud in her stomach. Her affection for Steve could have headed that same direction. She cared more than she wanted to admit, more than he or anyone else would ever know. The heart-rending distance between them was for the best, but that knowledge provided no comfort against the pain, the same sort of pain her aunt had endured for decades.

Dani’s shoulders slumped as unbidden images rose to the surface, a younger version of her aunt in love with a childhood sweetheart, and him married to another woman. To ease her broken heart, she’d resolved to go on with life by dating other men, and had ended up in the clutches of a monster. The journal didn’t name the man who had stolen what never belonged to him—what hadn’t been offered—leaving in his wake more pain and destruction.

She laid the old book on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest. Mama Beth had been too embarrassed to speak up, unwilling to bring disgrace on her family. Instead she’d moved to Dallas to live with Dani’s parents until the baby was born. Her gaze flitted to the next entry in the opened journal. Each word echoed with Mama Beth’s sweet voice.

I love this new life stirring inside. How I wish I could keep this baby to love and mother. But I can’t. I’ve prayed for God to make a way for this child, and I believe He has. My brother-in-law Daniel is a good man and doing well in his business. This morning he suggested I give the baby up for adoption. Oh, God, give me strength!

I know I can’t give this baby the life he or she deserves. I belong in Miller’s Creek, and without a father this child would be an outcast there. I’ll never be able to provide the advantages this precious baby deserves.

This is the best thing I can do for my baby, but it breaks my heart.

Fresh tears overflowed and Dani grieved. Grieved for her lost childhood, the children she’d never bear, and for the sacrifice her aunt had made on behalf of her nameless child. The baby clothes in the trunk, never worn, made for a baby she’d never know. No wonder she often seemed far away, in another time and place.

She released a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. Teardrops squeezed out and slipped down her face. This new information made the decision to move back to Dallas even more difficult, but leaving Miller’s Creek was the right call. With her tumor gone, Mama Beth could resume a normal life, perhaps with the man she’d loved her entire life. The last thing her aunt needed right now was an unwelcomed guest or an unwanted burden.

Closing the book, she padded to the attic to return the journal to its rightful place, then hurried downstairs, an hour late for one last task.

* * *

From atop an aluminum ladder, Dani rolled paint onto the walls of the last building scheduled for renovation. She had hoped the physical labor would provide a welcome respite from her tortured thoughts, but staying focused proved impossible. Thanks to the old journal, her insides tangled in tight knots.

To make matters worse, Steve was here, bringing with him the familiar turmoil. Why did relationships have to be impossibly complicated? She tightened her lips. Not that it mattered. She’d soon be gone.

J. C. stood back to survey their work. “Lookin’ good, fellas. I’m glad the last old lady is getting fixed up.”

“Yeah, and the building, too.” Coot blared the comment then dissolved into wheezing laughter.

Dani smiled in spite of the dark cloud hovering over her spirit. The old geezers and Steve continued to jabber like a bunch of crows. Their jokes and laughter bounced off the cream-colored walls and into her heart. Already she missed their camaraderie.

She scanned the room, her arm at rest on the top rung, the smell of fresh paint saturating the air. They’d done a good job of repairing and cleaning the building. A new tin ceiling gleamed above her head. Once they finished painting, the oak floors would be stripped and refinished like the other buildings in downtown Miller’s Creek. Only a handful of unoccupied stores remained, the others now filled with various new businesses, including a florist, boutique and an old-time general store. With Granny’s Kitchen and Creekside Park rebuilt, the last vestiges of the fire had been erased.

In spite of the ache in her heart, she had no regrets. She hoped the improvements would make a difference for the town’s people. Advertising and promotional work still loomed ahead, and had she stayed, she would’ve gladly taken on the task. But someone else would have the responsibility and honor now, her time in Miller’s Creek finished.

Her ladder jostled and rattled, sending her heart into panic mode. She grabbed hold with both hands, glancing toward the floor. Steve grinned back, a shock of his dark hair belligerently refusing its normal confines. She returned a weak smile and resumed painting, her thoughts confused. He’d ignored her for weeks, and today—of all days—he wanted to play?

Steve positioned his ladder next to hers and scaled it until he stood beside her, his expression and words friendlier than they’d been in a long time. “Looks like you’re having trouble reaching the high spots.”

She kept painting, her gaze trained on the wall. “Yeah, even with the roller extension, my arms aren’t quite long enough for these high ceilings.”

“Tell you what. I’ll take care of the places you can’t reach, okay?”

Dani nodded, but no, it wasn’t okay. She didn’t want him that close. Didn’t want his stare fixed on her. Under the ruse of getting more paint on the roller, she descended the ladder then stayed on the floor, away from his probing gaze.

An hour later, Steve sauntered toward her, his once-white T-shirt speckled with flecks of beige paint. “I’m going to Granny’s for burgers. You want one?”

“Yes, please. Thanks.”

“Let’s see if I remember. You like mustard, all the fixings, and no cheese, right?”

Her throat burned. “Very good.” She tried to keep her voice light.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He hesitated, his brows knit together in the middle. “You okay?”

“Just tired.”

His cinnamon eyes sparked hope. “It’s almost over.”

“Yep.” As if she needed a reminder.

Steve touched her arm gently, drawing her eyes to his face once more. “Thanks for all you’ve done to make this possible, Dani. You’ve worked hard on this project and I appreciate it.” His words were soft and sincere.

Tears threatened and she turned away, pretending she had a speck of dust in her eye. “No big deal. Now would you go after those burgers before I starve to death?” Pent-up emotion wobbled her words.

He laughed, loud and hearty, the sound and his dimpled grin slashing through her. “Okay, grouchy. I’ll sure be glad when this is over so you can catch up on your sleep.”

Without further comment, he ambled out the door with a cheery whistle, taking her heart with him.

Not two minutes after he left, overwhelming nausea descended and she pressed a hand to her abdomen. Her head hammered furiously, and her mouth watered, but not in a good way. A short time before she’d felt fine, but now feared losing the meager contents of her stomach, probably a combination of no breakfast and paint fumes. She snatched her purse from the work table and pulled out a ten dollar bill. That should cover lunch. With a quick word of explanation to J. C. she left for home.

A few minutes later Dani pulled under the carport, her head feeling like someone had buried a hatchet in her skull. As she entered the back door, raised voices spewed from the living room and stopped her cold.

“Cecille, you have to believe me. I haven’t told Dani anything—” Mama Beth’s words sounded strained. What was she talking about?

“Don’t give me more lies, Beth.” The hostility in Mother’s tone produced chills throughout her body. “You must have told her something or she wouldn’t have stayed in Miller’s Creek this long. I want the truth and I want it now!”

Mama Beth spoke again, and behind the words Dani heard tears. “I made you a promise thirty-five years ago and I’ve kept it. I kept it even when I wanted to tell her the truth. She deserves to know—”

What promise?

“Oh, please. I’m sick of your Little Miss Innocent act. If people only knew the truth about you.”

Dani’s anguish built and pounded against her already throbbing temples. Her stomach lurched, and the room began spinning. Mama Beth needed her help. She gripped the cool stone counter, bent at the waist, and prayed for the dizziness to end.

Mother’s harsh tirade continued. “I never believed your story. Not for one minute. It was all just an act to protect your precious reputation, wasn’t it?”

“That’s not true. How could you say something so cruel?”

Dani pressed a hand to her spinning head, her vision blurring as Mama Beth sobbed.

“If I find out that Dani knows you’re her mother—”

A roar rumbled in her ears and drowned out the rest of the words. Mama Beth? Her mother? Stormy waves of pain surged, threatening to drown her in their undertow. More betrayal at the hands of those she loved. Why hadn’t they told her the truth?

The bitter contents of her stomach rose to her mouth and she raised shaky fingers to halt its progress. She needed to escape, and time to think. A voiceless word exploded in her head.
Run.

Shivering uncontrollably, she attempted to leave the rotating confines of the kitchen, but as she pivoted a glass on the counter toppled, crashed to the floor, and shattered into a million tiny shards. The room spun out of control again, and Dani grabbed one of the pine stools at the island to steady herself.

Mama Beth and Mother scurried into the room.

“Dani.” Mother’s ashen face registered shock and fear.

“Are you okay?” Mama Beth came toward her, cheeks wet, eyes full of sorrow and concern. She laid a hand on her arm. “Let me help you.”

Dani yanked her arm away and lifted a trembling hand. “Stop, I...” Body-racking sobs tore from somewhere deep inside, a keening wail. “I—I’ve heard all I want to hear.”

Wild panic swirled through her. She needed out.
Now.
She backed toward the door, twisted the knob, and stumbled down the back steps. Five minutes later she left the Miller’s Creek city limit sign in her rear-view mirror.

* * *

Steve leaned against a wall in the newly renovated Granny’s Kitchen, waiting for the burgers, when his cell phone rang. He flipped it open and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”

“This is Mike Brady.”

“Hey, Mike, glad you called. I’ve been meaning to let you know. I decided to call off the investigation.” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Just let me know how much I owe you.”

“That’s actually why I called. I uncovered some information you might be interested in. Want to discuss it sometime this afternoon?”

Steve pursed his lips. What information? It wouldn’t hurt to at least listen to what the man had to say. “Okay. Twelve-thirty work for you?”

A minute later he hung up the phone, uneasiness hanging over him like a buzzard. He’d finally get some answers, but at what cost? The sizzle and smell of fresh burgers on the grill momentarily distracted him, and then his thoughts turned to Dani. Maybe over lunch they could find a quiet spot near the creek to talk.

She’d kept a healthy distance between them all day, quiet and withdrawn. Gray shadows of fatigue parked beneath her eyes and her mouth tilted down at the corners. When was the last time he’d seen her smile? He clenched his jaw. This was his fault. If he lost her he had no one to blame but himself. He had to find a way to mend fences, and better yet, a way to tear them down. A smirk landed on his face. Knowing Dani, that wouldn’t be easy.

Above the normal restaurant babble, he heard her name mentioned at a nearby table. “Otis thinks Dani is the one behind the vandalism. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Mama Beth didn’t throw her out.”

Otis and his thoughtless words. Sudden remorse rained down on him, seeping into his spirit. He’d questioned her behavior too, declaring her guilty until proven innocent. Steve rubbed a hand across his face, his mouth dry. No wonder she seemed withdrawn and sad. She’d worked as hard as any of them, maybe harder, and people treated her worse than an outsider. The thought soured his stomach.

One of the Grannies plunked four white sacks on the counter and rang up the total. He paid, grabbed the sacks, and headed to the door, his mind racing. On one hand, Dani’s behavior had been suspicious. But he and the rest of the town had made the situation worse by their judgmental attitudes. Why hadn’t he just gone to her and asked instead of harboring doubt?