Hearts in Hiding

by Patty Smith Hall

  “The window nearest the front door?”

  Edie nodded. “It must have been unlocked.”

  “It was.” Merrilee’s answer came out in a hoarse whisper. She grabbed the ends of the robe’s belt around her and tied them into a tight knot at her waist. “I’ve left it open for him for the past few years.”

  Him who? But before Edie could ask, Merrilee rushed to the stairs, taking them two at a time like a kid excited for Christmas morning. Edie hurried after her, praying neither of them missed a step in their rush. Merrilee had dealt with so much disappointment lately. What if the man tied up in the parlor wasn’t her nephew, but just an intruder bent on robbing her instead?

  Soft light bathed the hallway in a velvety glow as she reached the bottom step. Edie gently touched Merrilee’s shoulder. “Are you sure we shouldn’t call Sheriff Worthington?”

  Pools of moisture glistened in Merrilee’s dark green eyes. “Only one person on this earth knew I kept that window unlocked, and if it’s Beau, it’s an answer to years of prayer.”

  Beau. Her friend Maggie had told her about her arrogant lot of cousins. All males and all bent on making poor Maggie’s childhood a miserable existence. More than likely, this Beau character shared the secret of the unlocked window with someone he knew without a thought to his aunt’s safety.

  Edie followed Merrilee to the wide doorway of the parlor. Merrilee held up the lantern and gasped. “Beau!”

  “Aunt Merri.” Tenderness infused his voice, catching Edie off guard.

  Merrilee flew across the room, dropping to her knees beside him, her arms cradling him like a child. He closed his eyes, his chin nesting into her shoulder as if he’d found home in the curve of his aunt’s neck. A rush of warmth gathered behind her eyes.

  Oh, mercy! The knots she had tied still held him captive. “Here, let me undo those ropes.”

  Beau opened his eyes and stared up at her, but instead of the anger she expected to see, his gaze held an emotion she didn’t expect. Gratitude. “Thank you.”

  Her stomach did a little flip. Nerves, Edie thought as she kneeled down at his feet. Her fingers fumbled with the rope. “I hope you understand. I was just watching out for Merrilee.”

  “I appreciate that, Ms….”

  Merrilee leaned back, laughing. “Oh, where are my manners? Beau, this is Edwina Michaels, but most folks around here call her Edie for short.”

  “Ms. Michaels.” Even with his hands still tied, he tilted his head with the grace she’d come to recognize in the men from this region of the country.

  “Edie, please.” She felt her cheeks go warm, though she wasn’t sure why. “We’re very informal here.”

  His mouth quirked up at the corner as he rubbed his freed wrists. “Okay, Edie.”

  She’d never liked the nickname, not that she would tell Merrilee after all she’d done for her. But the way Beau said it, like a gentle caress, made her midsection take another pleasant tumble. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her robe, her fingers brushing over the thin parchment she’d shoved there when she’d first heard noises from the parlor.

  Mom and Dad.

  Edie swallowed hard, the flutterings in her stomach replaced by the cold hard truth. No one would want anything to do with her once they learned what her parents expected her to do for their homeland.

  “Goodness me, are you all right?” Merrilee placed a hand on Edie’s shoulder. “You’re as pale as a ghost!”

  Edie drew in a shaky breath. “I’m fine.”

  Merrilee pushed away from Beau, swiping at her cheeks before giving him a tender slap. “You scared poor Edie half to death.”

  “I think you underestimate your houseguest, Aunt Merri. She’s pretty handy with a poker and some rope.”

  Edie glanced over at him. Big mistake. His green eyes, a shade lighter than his aunt’s, danced with laughter. And his crooked smile guaranteed heartbreak for any girl, whether she be six or sixty.

  Well, that just wouldn’t do. She schooled her features into what she hoped was an icy stare. “I wouldn’t have to be if someone would use the front door.”

  The humor in his eyes dulled and he nodded. “You’re right, of course. It was never my intention to scare anyone.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  His apologetic answer rumbled through her. Edie stood and took a step toward the door. “I think I’d better go to bed.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Merrilee eyed her with the concern of a mother hen examining a nest of newly hatched chicks. “I’d hate to think that you might not sleep tonight. You’ve got such a busy schedule right now.”

  “I’m fine.” Edie didn’t have the heart to tell her that others at the plant were just as busy as she was. She cast a quick glance at Beau before turning back to Merrilee. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Merrilee linked her arm through her nephew’s. “We’ll be just fine.”

  “Okay, then,” she answered with a nod. “Good night.”

  Edie turned then, a slight tingle running up her spine as she walked across the room. He was watching her; she could feel his eyes follow her to the wide door frame.

  “Ms. Edie?”

  “Yes?” She turned, but her foot caught beneath the hem of the Oriental rug. She stumbled forward, slamming her eyes shut, her arms stretched out in front of her waiting for the hardwood floor to reach up and meet her.

  Warm hands closed over her waist, sliding around her before pulling her back against a solid wall of muscle.

  Turning, Edie opened her eyelids. The lines of concern bunched around Beau’s mouth and across his forehead, his arms tightening around her, sending a pleasant warmth across her chest and into the pit of her stomach. He really had the most lovely set of eyes, green like his aunt’s but shot with threads of amber that appeared to darken with his mood.

  Pulling out of his grasp, she drew in a shaky breath. “I’m fine, Mr. Daniels.”

  His mouth turned up into a faint smile. “Beau.”

  She nodded, irritation bubbling up inside her. Well, he might be Merrilee’s nephew but that still didn’t explain why a grown man would sneak in through an open window. Beau was probably more like his reprobate father than Merrilee even knew.

  Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

  Edie turned and headed toward the hall, her hand slipping into her pocket and settling over the old letter she kept there. No, she didn’t have any reason to think badly of Beau’s dad, not when her own parents had returned to Germany to do the unthinkable. Would have forced her to use her skills for the Führer, too, if she hadn’t slipped out of her bedroom window in the middle of the night and taken the first train out of Detroit.

  Because there was no power on earth that would make her follow her parents’ wishes and cast her lot with Hitler and his plan for Germany.

  Chapter Two

  Beau watched Edie as she headed for the stairs. He’d been wrong about her hair. It wasn’t black, but a thick veil of darkest brown, the color of ripe pecans, the palest strands capturing the spark of lantern light, falling over her shoulders in silky waves. And her eyes weren’t the light brown he’d envisioned, but a startling shade of blue-green that reminded him of the seas off the coast of Africa.

  So this was Merrilee’s protector.

  “Pretty, isn’t she?” his aunt said, stepping into place beside him. “And smart, too. Do you know that she’s a draftsperson over at the bomber plant?”

  Hadn’t even been home two seconds and Merrilee was trying her hand at matchmaking. Well, she’d have to be disappointed. He had too much to do at the moment. Looping his arm around his aunt’s trim waist, he turned to smile. “Well, I've only got time for one beautiful woman right now.”

  “Yeah, right,” Merrilee scoffed. “The least you could have done was to let me know you were coming.”

  “And ruin the surprise?” Truth was, he wasn’t sure he’d come home to Marietta, but there was nowhere else to g
o, and he’d promised to look out for his aunt.

  Merrilee laughed, her hand at the crook of his arm, her fingers tightening against his elbow as if she thought he might disappear. “I can’t believe you’re home.”

  “I missed my favorite aunt.”

  “You silly boy!” The light swat to his arm reminded him of when they were kids. “I’m your only aunt!”

  Beau chuckled then, startling himself with the sound. When was the last time he’d laughed? Too long, probably sometime before the war. Certainly not once during his time at the prison camp in Moosberg, though he had found reasons to smile at times. After all, the Lord was with him even there.

  “I’ll confess.” Grabbing her hand, Beau pulled her down into the chair opposite his. “My stomach missed you. After all, you are the only one in the family who knows how to cook.”

  “Oh, my goodness! I haven’t even asked if you were hungry.” Merrilee gestured to a table laden with covered bowls and plates against the far wall. “And if you can’t find anything there, I’ve got some leftover chicken out in the kitchen.”

  “Maybe later. Thanks.”

  The muted creaks and moans of the house filled the silence. Should he bring up what had really brought him back home, the promise he had made concerning her?

  “I guess you heard about your daddy?” Merrilee asked.

  Beau felt his insides tighten. He didn’t give a hoot what James Daniels was up to. But he couldn’t tell Merrilee that, not without breaking her heart. His aunt probably still loved her brother despite his obvious transgressions. “He’s not dead, is he?”

  “Don’t say such a thing,” she whispered, her cheeks suddenly pale.

  Beau nodded. Of course his father wasn’t dead. A man that mean wouldn’t do everyone a favor and just die. “So what’s going on with Dad?”

  “He’s in jail.”

  The way she said it, barely above a whisper, made Beau sigh. People from good families didn’t go to jail, or at least that’s what most people believed. Well, James might have come from a good family, but he’d never been a good person. “I can’t say I’m not surprised. Dad’s been tiptoeing around the law for as far back as I can remember.”

  “Beau!”

  “Aunt Merri, you know it’s the truth. My old man’s been bootlegging whiskey since I was a kid.”

  “He wasn’t always like that.” She pressed her lips into a quivering line. “When we were little, James was the one who would give you the shirt right off his back.”

  Yeah, he’d heard Dad was once a good man, just hurting deep down in the black of his soul. Beau wouldn’t know. He’d been too busy running from the beatings his dad deemed necessary after Beau’s mother left home. “What did he do?”

  “I don’t even know where to begin.” She hesitated, then the words poured out of her like one of those geysers he’d seen in his time out West. By the time she finished, even Beau was stunned by the magnitude of his father’s supposed crimes. “He would have killed that girl if she hadn’t landed that plane when she did.”

  “Is the woman okay?”

  Merrilee nodded. “Last we heard, she was back home working with a doctor to strengthen her leg, but yes, she’s fine.”

  “Maybe you could get me her address. I’d like to see if there’s anything she needs.”

  Merrilee studied him for a moment, the brittle lines around her eyes and mouth softening. “I’ve been praying you would come back home for years, ever since that day you ran off with the Civil Conservation Corp. You were always so determined to be anywhere else but here.”

  Beau couldn’t deny it. He’d never wanted to come back to Marietta, not as long as his father still lived. He’d been honest with Ms. Michaels. If it hadn’t been for Merrilee, he probably would have headed back out to California. But he had made a promise to John at the shipyard before the older man had sailed off to the Pacific: provide for Merrilee, keep her safe. It was the only thing John Davenport had ever asked of him. “When the army decided to cut me loose, this was the place I wanted to be.”

  “So what are you going to do, now that you’re home?”

  “I don’t know. I was a medic in the army and thought maybe I’d volunteer at the hospital before I made any decisions.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. And you know—” Merrilee smiled at him “—Edie volunteers over there a few days a week. I bet she’d be happy to introduce you around.”

  Beau wasn’t so sure about that. “You’d better ask her first.”

  “Sure, I will.” His aunt eyed him from head to toe. “Didn’t they feed you over there? You’re as skinny as a rail.”

  His gut clenched into a ball. No need to tell her about the prison camp right outside of Moosberg he’d been held at for the last year. The muscles in his cheeks hurt from the smile he gave her. “Folks don’t join the army for the grub.”

  “I know, but…”

  “I’m fine, Aunt Merri. And if there was something wrong, it’s nothing that your home cooking won’t cure.”

  “Then you need to eat.” Merrilee stood and bustled over to the table. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fix you a sandwich?”

  Beau glanced over at her, bustling over plates and bowls of food. This was the Merrilee he remembered, always the mother hen caring for her brood. “Truth is, I’m ready to hit the sack. That is, if you’ve got a place for me.”

  She answered with a smile. “I’ve already got a bed made up, as long as you don’t mind sleeping in the attic.”

  It beat the slatted planks he’d been forced to use as a bed this past year. “Sounds perfect. I’m going to grab a glass of milk, then head on up.”

  “If you need anything, just let me know.” Merrilee cupped his face in her hands and brushed a soft kiss across his brow.

  “Thanks, Merrilee. And good night.” Beau stood, watching her go, the lamplight flickering down the hall before fading into darkness.

  Pouring himself a large cup of milk, Beau walked across the room and slid down into the high-backed chair. He was home, but now what? He made a short list in his head of things he needed to check into around town before his thoughts turned back to his father.

  Wrapping his hands around the cool porcelain, Beau took a long draw of milk. Surely, Merrilee didn’t expect him to find his father a lawyer. Last thing he wanted to do was put any effort into helping his dad, but how could he not? Merrilee had been so upset, worried James wouldn’t have anyone to defend him. Maybe she hadn’t considered that James had used up all his second chances.

  If that’s the truth, then there’s not much hope for me.

  Edie’s words came back to him. She seemed like a good sort, but what had she meant by that? Had someone in her life let her down so much that she didn’t think she deserved a break?

  It didn’t matter. Beau had bigger problems to take care of and a promise to keep. He swallowed the last of the milk then stood. He needed sleep right now, or he wouldn’t be able to function tomorrow.

  As he walked toward the table to deposit his glass, he noticed a scrap of paper, torn around the edges, peeking out from under the table. Reaching down, he picked it up and unfolded it. It looked like the first page of a letter.

  Scanning the text, Beau’s heart went into overdrive, the air in his lungs trapped in a vise. No wonder Edie Daniels thought she was doomed. He’d escaped one enemy only to be met by another, more beautiful one. Well, he wouldn’t be suckered in by a pretty face, not when he had a promise to keep. His eyes slipped over the scribblings once more. Though it was written years ago, the language and the person to whom it was addressed was undeniable.

  Meine tochtor, Edwina.

  * * *

  Blast, Beau Daniels!

  Edie leaned her cheek into the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on her dressing table as she stared into the beveled mirror, the pressed powder she’d applied doing little to mask the dark smudges under her eyes. The sheets on her bed lay in a tangled heap from her constant tossing and
turning in the hours after she had gone to bed last night.

  Why couldn’t the man use the front door like a normal person rather than climb in through the window like a thief in the night? Granted, it had been left unlocked for him, but she couldn’t help feeling he was up to something, sneaking around like that.

  I don’t have anywhere else to go.

  Edie frowned at the memory. The words had sounded so sincere, as if Beau had just grasped the truth in his statement as he said it. An odd sort of tenderness welled up inside her. It must have been hard, living under the same roof as James Daniels, horrible man that he was.

  And Beau probably picked up some of his father’s meanness, too.

  A quick glance at the clock on the hearth sent her rushing to put the last touches on her hair before she stood up. Grabbing her purse, hat and gloves, she was barely across the room when the door slid open.

  Claire Davenport, Merrilee’s ten-year-old daughter, poked her head inside. “Momma wanted me to see if you were still in bed. She thought you might have overslept.”

  “No, just running late this morning, that’s all.” She grabbed her sweater from the hook off the back of the door.

  “I doubt you'll need a sweater. It’s going to be another scorcher today.”

  Edie bit back a grin. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Claire’s biggest wish was to be older, or at least old enough to matter. But this time, the young girl was right. Spring had arrived with a vengeance, bringing with it sweltering heat. Throwing her sweater on a chair, Edie followed Claire out into the hall, shutting the door behind them.

  “I heard you met my cousin last night,” Claire said as they reached the staircase. “What’s he like?”

  Edie stared down at the girl. “Don’t you know him?”

  “No.” Claire slid her hand along the smooth surface of the oak banister. “But Momma told me stories about him.”

  The slight curiosity she felt annoyed Edie. “What kind of stories?”