Twice in a Lifetime (23 page)

A click of heels resounded faintly from inside, and then the door opened. Beatrice Wilson stared at her for a moment and then swung the door toward her.

Georgia caught it with her hand. She hadn’t rehearsed what she’d say, but the words seemed to spring to her lips. “Please, Ms. Wilson. I know you’re trying to protect your mother. I don’t mean her any harm or embarrassment,

I promise. Just give me five minutes. Then if you’re not willing to talk to me, I’ll never bother you or her again.”

For a moment the woman stood frozen, her face strained, her eyelids red. Then she swung the door open. “You can come in, but it won’t do you any good. My mother died early this morning.”

A cold hand squeezed Georgia’s heart as sorrow swept over her—for Ms. Wilson, for her mother and for Miz Callie, who would never know the truth.

“I’m sorry.” She reached out impulsively to clasp the woman’s hand as she stepped into the cool, tiled hallway. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Ms. Wilson nodded, closing the door. The muscles in her neck worked. “It was expected, but it’s still hard. Harder than I thought.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. There didn’t seem anything else to say. “I should go. I’m sure you have a great deal to do.”

“Tell me first.” Ms. Wilson’s lips trembled, and she pressed them together. “What did you want from my mother?”

She knew something. Georgia was sure of it. She’d

reacted to Ned’s name before she threw them out of the room at the nursing home.

“Ned Bodine was my grandfather’s older brother. He disappeared in 1942—left without telling anyone where he was going.” She hesitated, but what point was there in evasion? “People believed he ran away rather than enlist. They called him a coward.”

“Why are you interested in it now? What difference could it make to anyone?” The woman’s gaze slid away from Georgia’s and focused on an arrangement of pink roses on a marble-topped hall stand.

“My grandmother cares. She’s starting to see her friends pass away, and that’s made her think of things she regrets—like never trying to prove that Ned wasn’t the coward people thought him.”

“Is she so sure of that?”

“Yes,” she said instantly. “She is, and she’s desperate to clear his name.”

Still the woman didn’t look at her. “What does that have to do with my mother?”

She hesitated, wondering whether she dared say what she knew, what she suspected, about Ned and Beatrice’s mother. But again, what good would it do to hold it back? “Your parents rented a house on Sullivan’s Island that summer. People remember that Ned and your mother

were…friends.”

She flared up at that. “My mother was a kind person.

People loved her.”

“I’m sure they did,” Georgia said gently. “My grandmother remembers a night when she found Ned standing in the dunes outside your parents’ cottage. She remembers hearing your father shouting and the sound of a slap.”

Beatrice Wilson stood perfectly still, but her hands twisted together as if they fought for control.

“We have no intention of making any of that public,” Georgia said softly, pity filling her heart. “I just hoped that your mother might have remembered. Might have known why Ned went away the way he did. But I guess it’s too late. Thank you for your time. And again, I’m sorry.” She turned toward the door.

“Wait.” For another instant the woman stood motionless, as if she’d surprised herself by the word. Then she spun and hurried through the archway into the parlor. In a moment she was back, holding something in her hand.

“When Mamma went into the nursing home, I sorted her things. I found these.” She hesitated a moment. “I was going to burn them.” She took a choking breath, and her eyes welled. “You were right about my father. Maybe this…” She thrust the papers toward Georgia. “Here. Take them.” They crackled in her fingers. Three envelopes: old,

yellowed, the writing faded.

“Please go.” The woman looked at the end of her rope. “I hope—I hope they have the answers you’re looking for.” Georgia stepped outside and hurried to the car, forcing herself to wait until she was safely inside. She opened the

first envelope, her fingers fumbling, breath hitching.

A few minutes later she sat back in her seat, wiping tears from her eyes. She understood now why Ned had left, but whether that would be enough to clear his name, she couldn’t guess.

Matt resisted the temptation to put his hands over his ears. It wouldn’t help. Nothing would block out the sound of the Bodine clan in full crisis mode.

Georgia had said something once about her family’s penchant for noisy interference in each other’s business. He saw what she meant. No wonder she was so reluctant to confront them.

Miz Callie sat in her rocking chair while agitated voices swirled, her face set. She wasn’t even attempting to explain.

Maybe she had it right. Maybe it was necessary to let them run out of steam, and then they’d be ready to listen.

But he doubted it.

All three of Miz Callie’s sons and their wives were here, along with Georgia’s brother Adam and her cousin Amanda. He wasn’t quite sure why they’d been dragged along— maybe because the older generation blamed them for helping. Amanda, sitting between her father and Georgia’s father, was trying to play peacemaker, but judging by the spark in her eyes, she’d rather just yell at them. Adam stood behind his grandmother, immovable as a boulder,

letting the torrent of voices roll around him.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Ashton Bodine demanded.

Matt realized that was directed at him. Somewhat to his surprise, the talk died down for his answer.

Not that they’d like it.

“Miz Callie is my client,” he said. “I’m carrying out her wishes, and I’ll continue to do that.”

The clamor fell on his ears again. He’d warned Georgia that the further the paperwork went, the more likely someone would leak the plan. That was exactly what had happened.

Georgia should be here, but he was just as glad she wasn’t. She would hate this.

Pain wrapped around his heart at the thought of her.

He’d hurt her. He hadn’t intended to, but he had.

He longed to see her again, to try and make amends, but how could he? She asked the impossible of him.

The front door opened. Georgia stood there, staring at the scene in front of her. For an instant he saw panic in her eyes, and then her fight to control it.

“Georgia!”

Ignoring her mother’s exclamation, Georgia crossed the room to her grandmother and bent to kiss her cheek. “Are you all right?” she asked, as if there were no one else in the room. “I am.” Miz Callie patted her cheek. “But better for

having you here, sugar.”

“Georgia Lee, I think you’d better explain your part in this.” Her father’s voice held a note of command.

Other voices lifted as her aunts and uncles chimed in, demanding answers.

Matt saw Georgia exchange glances with her brother and her cousin. But not with him, and the omission nicked his heart. She straightened, holding her grandmother’s hand.

“As soon as y’all can get quiet, I do have something to say.” The sudden silence was as weighty as a breaker crashing. Her father blinked. “All right, Georgia Lee. We’re

listening.”

“First of all, Miz Callie asked me to do something for her. She asked me to find out what really happened to Ned Bodine.”

There was a strangled noise from one of the uncles, and she shot him a look so stern that he shut up probably from sheer amazement.

“The truth, not just what everyone says. The truth that Miz Callie believes—that Ned Bodine wasn’t a coward.” Her father cleared his throat. “Mamma…” His voice gentled. “I’m touched you believe that, but after all this

time, no one can possibly find out—”

“But they can,” Georgia said, her voice firmer than he’d ever heard it. “I did.”

Now he was gaping like the rest of them.

Georgia looked down at her grandmother, patting her hand. “It was just as you thought. Ned was in love with the

woman who rented the next cottage that summer. He wanted desperately to protect her from her abusive husband.”

“If they ran away,” Miz Callie began, voice trembling. Georgia stroked her hand. “It wasn’t that. When Ned realized that she wouldn’t let him help her, he decided he

had to go away. To join up, as his friends did.”

“We didn’t find any records,” Matt reminded her. “No.” Her gaze finally met his, cautious, guarded, as if

just looking at him might hurt her. “Because he didn’t enlist under his own name.”

Her father was shaking his head. “Georgia, I appreciate your trying to help your grandmother, but you can’t know this.”

She held up several yellowed sheets of paper. “I have proof—the letters Ned wrote to her that summer. The last one says it all.” Carefully, she unfolded the brittle paper. “He tells her that he’s leaving, and why. And he says that since his father has spent so much time telling him that he’s a disgrace to the Bodine name, he won’t be using it.” A single tear dropped on the paper, and she carefully blotted it away. “As far as we know, no one ever heard of Ned Bodine again.”

“Georgia…” Miz Callie breathed her name, eyes sparkling with tears.

Georgia pressed the letters into her hand. “For you.”

She’d done it. She’d obviously gone to the Wilson woman again, and she’d pulled off something he’d thought impossible. Not only that, but she’d stood up to her entire family. His heart swelled with pride. Pride, and regret that in the end, he hadn’t helped her.

Her parents and aunts and uncles stared at her in amazement. Her brother reached over to envelop her in a huge congratulatory hug, and she turned her face into his shirt. A pang shot through Matt, headed straight for his heart.

He wanted it to be him comforting her, celebrating with her. But he’d forfeited any possibility of that.

“Astonishing,” murmured Brett, Amanda’s father. “But y’all know people are still going to talk. We can’t very well put his letter in the newspaper as proof.”

There was a murmur, maybe of agreement. Georgia turned toward them again. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Silence for a moment, and then Georgia’s mother rose. “Let them talk.” She held out her hand to her daughter. “We’re Bodines. If people talk, we’ll hold our heads a little higher, won’t we, honey?” The smile she gave

Georgia held love and pride.

Georgia took her hand, stepped into her embrace. The others, following Delia’s lead, clustered around. The Bodines were a single unit again, surrounding Georgia.

Excluding him. That was the way it should be. Georgia deserved the best. She deserved a man who could offer her a whole heart. He couldn’t.

He turned and slipped quietly out.

Chapter Seventeen

F
inally the family had gone. Georgia was alone on the beach. The sun slipped toward the horizon, and the last of the day’s beachgoers had left. She really was alone.

She should feel lost. Whatever might have been with Matt was gone. She’d finished the job Miz Callie had set for her. But instead of feeling lost, she felt a sense of release. Of freedom. She no longer had to make decisions based on her sense of failure.

She could stay here. The idea took hold, strong as the incoming tide. She didn’t have to worry about putting space between herself and her family’s expectations. She could stay where her roots ran deep. Even though the love she’d hoped for with Matt could never be, she could build a satisfying life. Surely someone in Charleston needed an employee with her experience.

Her steps grew lighter, quicker, and her mind raced with the decision made. She’d go back to Atlanta and give up the apartment—that was the first thing. She’d spend a couple of days winding up things there, then come back and launch into a serious job hunt. Maybe Amanda would know of something.

She should tell Miz Callie. But first—her steps had taken her as far as Matt’s house. Standing on the beach, the incoming tide sending ripples chasing her feet, she looked at the house.

Lights were on, glowing behind the drapes. He was there. Maybe, before she moved on, there was something still to be said between them, no matter how much it might hurt to be with him again.

By the time she’d disentangled herself from her family earlier, he’d gone. She hadn’t thanked him yet. If he hadn’t tracked down Grace Malloy, she’d never have gotten her hands on the letters, and Miz Callie would still be wondering. She owed him for that, at least.

Her feet felt rooted in the sand. Giving herself a shake, she started walking toward the house.
No more hiding, Georgia Lee.You’re finished with that. God has set you free.
She reached the steps and went steadily up them, then knocked on the glass door. In a moment Matt pushed it back, looking surprised to see her and a bit guarded as well. “Georgia. I wasn’t expecting you.” He stepped back,

gesturing her inside.

She nodded. A quick glance showed her Lindsay was nowhere in sight. They were alone.

She sucked in a breath. Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, and something seemed to grip her throat.