Books 1-3

by B. C. Burgess

  Layla jolted awake, and it took her a moment to remember what she’d been dreaming about. Once the vision reformed, all she could think was, “How weird?”

  Chapter Five

  Layla awoke Tuesday feeling groggy and scatterbrained, but after an apple and two cups of coffee, which she drank while staring at her parents’ wedding photo, she found the energy to wash up and make a few phone calls.

  Every move she’d made since waking up, she’d made while thinking about her mom’s letter. The facts were straight in her head, and her options were clear, but which to choose was not.

  She could disregard what she’d read and continue her life as it was, with a few financial changes, or she could go to Oregon armed with nothing but vague clues. If she was honest with herself, going to Oregon was exactly what she wanted, but she was hesitant to open herself up to more disappointment. What she needed was an outsider’s perspective, so she invited Travis and Phyllis over.

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived, Phyllis with homemade bruschetta and Travis with orange juice and champagne.

  “What’s that for?” Layla asked, pointing out the beverages.

  “Mimosas,” Travis answered, “to celebrate my first official invite to your house.”

  “I’ve invited you before,” Layla countered, pulling dishes from the cabinet. “Haven’t I?”

  “No,” Travis replied. “Unless ya count your birthday, when I pretty much invited myself.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Travis insisted, bracing himself to pop the cork on the champagne. “So what’s the occasion?”

  “I met with my mom’s lawyer yesterday.”

  “Oh yeah. How’d it go?”

  “I’ll show you,” Layla offered, carrying the plates to the table. “Let’s sit.”

  Phyllis passed out bruschetta as Travis mixed mimosas, and Layla fidgeted with Katherine’s letter, bracing herself to let it go.

  “What’s that?” Travis asked.

  “A letter from my mom,” Layla answered. “I want you guys to read it and tell me what you think.”

  Travis and Phyllis froze, raising incredulous eyebrows.

  “Are ya sure?” Phyllis asked. “You’re such a private person.”

  “I’m sure,” Layla answered, handing over the letter, “but I want you both to finish before saying anything.”

  Travis and Phyllis looked at each other. Then Travis shrugged and placed the letter between them.

  Layla sipped her drink as she watched their expressions, guessing where they were in the plethora of information. When they finally met her stare with sympathetic gazes, neither of them spoke, so she broke the silence.

  “Crazy, right?”

  Travis nodded, mouth still hanging open, but Phyllis had more tact. “How are ya, honey, really?”

  If the question had been asked after the first time Layla read the letter, she would have answered with a sob, but now that everything had soaked in, she was coming to terms with it. Sort of. “I’m okay,” she answered, and Phyllis narrowed her eyes. “Really,” Layla pressed, “I am. Yesterday was rough. I kind of had a break down the first time I read it.”

  “Good,” Phyllis approved, patting Layla’s hand. “Sometimes all it takes to deal with somethin’ is a good cry.”

  “Maybe. You okay, Trav?”

  He hadn’t moved an inch. “Uh… yeah,” he replied, shaking his head. “Man, Layla, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it. That must’ve been hell for ya to read.”

  “Yeah, but the seventh time was easier.”

  “Ya did this to yourself seven times?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re a masochist, Layla.”

  “You’re one to talk, Trav.”

  Travis shrugged because he couldn’t argue. “So how do ya feel?”

  “I’ve gone through every emotion in the book,” Layla answered, thumbing the pages of the letter. “I’m sad, confused, amazed, among other things.” She didn’t tell them she was hurt, because she wasn’t sure she had a right to be, and she didn’t tell them she was hopeful, because she was too damn hopeful.

  Travis got to his feet and moved behind her, wrapping skinny arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, sugar. Is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Layla replied, “because I need an outsider’s perspective. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m adopted, but what to do next is what I can’t wrap my mind around.”

  “Do ya know your options?” Travis asked, taking the chair next to her.

  “For the most part.”

  “Are ya leanin’ toward one in particular?” Phyllis asked.

  “Yes,” Layla whispered, “but I’m not sure it’s the best idea.”

  “Ya wanna go to Oregon, don’t you?” Phyllis concluded.

  “Yes,” Layla confirmed, “but I’m scared. What if I drag my butt all the way there, turn my world upside down, and there’s nothing there to find?”

  “But what if there is?” Phyllis countered. “Life’s nothin’ if ya don't take chances.”

  “What’s the last chance you took?”

  “I let Travis drive me over here.”

  Layla smirked at Travis’ guilty grin. Then she sobered and looked down. “I keep telling myself I should go, just to see the place, that I don’t necessarily have to search for anything, but I’m worried a dead end will crush my hopes no matter what I claim my motivations are. Oregon’s a long way to go to be crushed. I could manage it much closer to home.”

  “Do ya still consider this home?” Phyllis asked.

  Layla wasn’t sure anymore. Home wasn’t the house or town. It was her mom. “I guess I don’t,” she answered, “now that I think about it.”

  “Instead of thinkin’ of reasons to go,” Travis offered, “ask yourself if there’s a reason to stay. If not, go. If not to Oregon, somewhere else. Unless you wanna live the rest of your life in Gander.”

  Layla wrinkled her nose. “Eww. Not so much.”

  “Did your mom leave ya enough money to make a move to the coast?” Travis asked.

  Layla was uncomfortable telling them exactly how much money was in her bank account; she felt guilty having so much. “There’s enough to go pretty much anywhere.”

  “There ya go,” Travis said. “If ya don’t wanna mess with Oregon, there’s always California.”

  Phyllis shook her head. “Look, Layla, if ya wanna know the family you’ve lost, ya shouldn’t let fear get in the way.”

  “So you think I should go?”

  “I think you got less to lose and more to gain by goin’. Do like ya said, just go see the place. Ya can’t lose somethin’ ya don’t have to begin with. If there’s nothin’ to find, you’ll be in the same position ya are now. If ya don’t try, it’ll eat at ya forever. You’ll always wonder what might’ve been.”

  “You’re probably right,” Layla mumbled. “But say I do find them. Then what? What if they’re horrible people who didn’t give a damn about me and fed my mom those lies to make her feel better?” An awful thought struck her, sucking the breath from her lungs. “What if they hate me for killing my birth mother?”

  Travis quickly took her hand. “If that happens, I’ll personally kick their asses all the way to New York.”

  Layla knew Travis wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was the jester, not the knight. Nevertheless, she appreciated the sentiment. “Thanks, Trav.”

  “I don’t think that’s somethin’ to worry about,” Phyllis offered. “If that were the case, the clues wouldn’t hold any truth at all. If they didn’t want ya, they wouldn’t give ya a way to find ’em.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Layla agreed, her fear of rejection subsiding, but the fear of loneliness remained, along with the supposed danger. “I don’t know what to make of all this danger stuff. It’s weird.”

  Phyllis’ eyebrows drew together. “It doesn’t explain much about that, does it?”

  “No,” Lay
la huffed.

  “But it does seem to imply the danger’s pretty much passed,” Phyllis assumed. “Now that you’re grown and all, the risk is minimal. Isn’t that the impression you got?”

  “Yeah,” Layla answered, staring at her untouched bruschetta.

  “I’m not sure ya should let a small risk stand in the way of findin’ your family,” Phyllis added. “I hate to think of ya in danger, but no one’s messed with ya in eighteen years. Why would they start now? And what’s the chances you’ll cross their paths in your search? Don’t seem likely to me.”

  The raw truth—Layla feared being alone far more intensely than she feared the unexplained danger. “I won’t know anybody there,” she whispered. “At least I have you two and my job here, and I know my way around. I would be completely alone in Oregon. I’d be lost.” She was embarrassed to admit her fear, and her face showed it.

  Phyllis smiled and patted her hand. “You’re an amazin’ person, Layla. You’ve overcome so many obstacles in your short life already. If anyone can do this with grace and dignity, it’s you. It’ll be scary in a strange place with no one to turn to, but you’ve faced scarier things before, and you’re still kickin’ to tell the tale.”

  That was true. Layla couldn’t think of anything more terrifying than finding her mom on the floor after the stroke. It had been hell, the worst hours of her life, but she’d made it through to sit and ponder the mysteries of her past over mimosas.

  “If fear is the only thing holdin’ ya back,” Phyllis asserted, “there’s nothin’ to discuss. I’m not gonna let ya give up somethin’ important just ’cause you’re scared.”

  “She’s right,” Travis agreed. “If this is what ya wanna do, we’re gonna make sure ya do it. So, is goin’ to Oregon what ya want?”

  “What about California?” Layla replied, trying to stall.

  “California’s a helluva lot closer to Oregon than it is to Oklahoma. And you’re stallin’.” He knew her too well. “I’m not gonna let ya make excuses, Layla. If Oregon is what ya want, come hell or high water, I’m gonna get ya there.”

  Layla wasn’t sure if she was ready to commit, to leave the only life she knew in search of one she’d missed, a life she could still know, or may never know. The odds of finding that distant life were not on her side, and the probable failure still scared her.

  Travis scooted closer and leaned forward, taking both of her hands. “I know this is a big decision, Layla, but puttin’ it off ain’t gonna make it easier. It’ll only make it harder. If ya wanna find your family, ya hafta grab this opportunity by the balls, ’cause everyday things change, places change, and people die. If what your birth family told your mom is true, they’ve been waitin’ on ya. Are ya really gonna make ’em wait longer?”

  Tears welled up in Layla’s eyes as her throat and hands tightened. For Travis to be so heartfelt and serious was a testament to how much he cared about her. He liked to keep things light. “What about work?” she asked.

  “We’ll pick up the slack ’til Joe finds a replacement,” Phyllis offered.

  “But the house would be a hassle to clean out and sell,” Layla murmured.

  “We’ll help,” Travis countered, “and if ya list it with an agent, ya won’t hafta deal with the sale.”

  Layla gnawed on her bottom lip. Was she really going to do this? “I would need a place to stay.”

  “We’ll have one by tomorrow,” Travis replied, eyes victoriously flashing. “Come on, Layla, if it wasn’t scary, it wouldn’t be as excitin’. If all ya do is go and see some new things and places, that’s okay. It’s still an adventure. And maybe you’ll get more than ya bargained for. Maybe you’ll get a family.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “I would miss you.”

  “I’d miss ya, too, sugar, but I got my own plans for gettin’ the hell outta Dodge. They’re just on hold right now. In the meantime, I need ya to do this for me, so I can live vicariously through you.”

  “Me, too,” Phyllis added. “I can think of nothin’ better than seein’ Oregon through your eyes.”

  They were good, Layla thought, mildly amused. “You guys aren’t playing fair,” she observed, and Travis winked.

  “Do we ever? So whatchya think? To Oregon?”

  They made it sound so easy and natural, like it was destiny calling her home. Once her decision was made, adrenaline flooded her veins, inciting goose bumps and jitters.

  She gave Travis a nervous and excited smile, finally taking the leap. “To Oregon.”

  Within a week, Layla was out of excuses to stay in Gander Creek. The house was empty and on the market, and almost everything in it had been donated to charity. Packed in Layla’s car were her clothes, a few sentimental tokens of her mom, small kitchen appliances, and a huge box of photo albums, framed pictures, and home movies.

  Layla had enlisted Gerald Greene’s help to sell the house, requesting he take his fee out of the profit before donating the rest to charity. And she’d hired him to pay her bills and collect her mail until she could provide the post office with a proper address.

  Her car had new traction tires and fresh oil, the gas tank was full, and the console overflowed with tollbooth change. She’d gotten rid of the old manila envelope, but the letter and photo were tucked inside her glove compartment.

  Travis and Phyllis huddled in their jackets, hiding their ears from dawn’s chilly bite as they stood in Layla’s driveway, waiting to see her off.

  “Ready?” Travis asked with a grin.

  Layla tried to return his smile, but knew it was weak. “Yeah. I think.”

  “Are ya excited?”

  “That’s definitely one of the things I’m feeling.”

  “It’s gonna be great,” he assured, “and if ya don’t like it, Gander Creek will still be here.”

  “I guess it will,” she conceded. “That’s a little reassuring.”

  Phyllis moved in, giving Layla a big hug. “Call us when ya get a chance, or if ya need anything. We wanna hear how things are goin’. Remember, we’re livin’ vicariously through you.”

  “I will,” Layla agreed. Then her throat clogged as she looked at Travis. “You’ll come visit me, won’t you?”

  “Well yeah,” he answered. “That’s the deal.”

  Tears swarmed Layla’s lids, blurring his face. “I love you, Travis. I know that sounds silly, because we’ve never said that before, but… well, you’re my best friend.” The tears spilled over as she choked back a sob. She’d never realized how much she counted on seeing him at work, or contemplated how much he soothed her when she needed it most. He’d become an infinitely important person in her life without her noticing or acknowledging the fact.

  He wrapped his long arms around her, and she buried her sad and ashamed face in his chest. “I love you, too, Layla,” he whispered. “I don’t know anyone else like ya, and I’m gonna miss ya somethin’ fierce.”

  “Good. Then you’ll come see me sooner.”

  “As soon as I get the chance.”

  He squeezed before letting go, and Layla wiped her face. “I want both of you to visit. If money’s the only thing holding you back, I’ll buy the plane tickets.”

  They nodded their agreement. Then the three of them stood silent and still, sadly watching one another.

  “Well,” Layla finally breathed, trying to look brave as she opened the car door, “I guess I’m going to Oregon.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Travis soothed.

  “She’ll be more than fine,” Phyllis encouraged. “She’ll be great. Call us when ya stop so we know you’re safe.”

  “I will,” Layla agreed. “Bye, Phyllis.”

  “Bye, honey.”

  Layla fought more tears as she looked at Travis. “See ya, Trav.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “See ya, sugar. Drive safe.”

  She nodded then quickly got in the car, afraid she might change her mind any second. S
he stared at her house for a moment, absorbing its details and the memories made within. Then she gave Travis and Phyllis a sad wave as she backed out of the driveway, indefinitely leaving the only home she’d ever known.

  Chapter Six

  After two long days on the road, Layla left Twin Falls, Idaho for her third and final stretch. Anxious to get the tiresome journey over with, she was gone by eight in the morning, entering Oregon by ten. Then she gained an hour when she entered western time.

  The beginning of her trip through the Wallowa Mountains was uneventful—a divided four-lane highway winding through rocky, snow-patched hills, bypassing the occasional town and dipping into canyons. Then her ears started hurting as she ascended Cabbage Hill into the Blue Mountains, ominously nicknamed Deadman Pass. The moniker made her nervous enough to pull over at a rest stop on the summit, determined to learn more about the descent she faced. Plus, she needed gum. Her ears were about to explode.

  As she filled her travel mug with coffee, luck would have a man in uniform doing the same, so she told him she was from Oklahoma and asked if her traction tires would get her down the mountain. He assured her the west side of the pass was clear of ice, took the time to check her tires, and even offered to follow her down the mountain, insisting his patrol took him that direction anyway.

  Icy or not, Layla was relieved to have a lawman following her down the steep and dangerous road, especially when she took the two hairpin curves on a six percent downgrade. It was a terrifying experience, worsened by the signs reading Runaway Truck Lane—1 mile.

  The cliffs eventually opened to safer roads, the friendly officer exited the interstate, and Layla’s anxiety quieted. Surely the most perilous part of the trip was over. The thought was further reinforced when the interstate flattened and straightened, eventually meeting the Columbia River and following it west.

  For a while the lands to the south were flat and Layla could see for miles, but the further west she traveled, the more uneven the earth became, rising to her left and occasionally her right, trapping her in earthen corridors.