A Mother's Secret

by Gabrielle Meyer

A swinging bench hung from a large branch on a nearby oak. Chase ran his hand through his hair and walked over to the swing. He sat, looking out at the river.

  Joy sighed and walked over to join him.

  They sat side by side and pushed the swing back and forth for a little while before he answered. “I don’t know what to tell you, Joy. A few weeks ago, when I arrived, I thought this would be a quiet, easy transition. I knew exactly what I was doing and why I was doing it—but now—” He leaned his head back and let out a frustrated breath. “Now I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  A flock of ducks took flight from the river, squawking and flapping their wings. Water dropped from their bodies like thousands of little sparkling pebbles, dimpling the surface of the Mississippi.

  “I’m sorry about my reaction to the chickens,” she said. “I know you and the boys worked hard to give me that gift—but, Chase, I can’t take gifts like that from you. It’s too personal—too permanent.”

  Her hand lay on the bench between them and Chase looked down at it. “What if I wanted it to be personal?” he asked quietly.

  Joy’s heart raced and her breath caught. He started to move his hand to cover hers, so she stood, making the swing lurch to a halt.

  She faced Chase, anger, sadness, disappointment and grief warring within her. Her heart was softening toward him, but she couldn’t let it. Even if he was a good man—even if he was kind and patient with the kids—even if he was the father of her daughters—she couldn’t risk him making the same choice as before. If something threatened him, or he was forced to choose between his father and her, how could she be certain he’d choose her? He hadn’t last time—why would he now?

  “It can’t be personal,” she said, shaking her head. “And it can’t be permanent. When the sale of Bee Tree Hill is complete, I want you to go back to your life—I need you to go back.” She tried to keep the tears from gathering in her eyes, but it was pointless. “I will never keep the girls from you—you’re welcome to come see them whenever you’d like. I’ll send pictures and we can video chat when you’re away—but that’s all. I don’t have space in my life for anything more than that.”

  He watched her as she spoke, his face betraying his disappointment. “But what if I don’t want to leave? What if video chats and occasional visits aren’t enough for me?” He stood and walked to her. “What if I want to see my girls every day? What if I want to be a part of their lives—help you make decisions—teach them and guide them?”

  “W-what are you saying, Chase?” She wiped at the tears, her pulse thrumming in her wrists. “Are you saying you’ll give up your life in Seattle and move to Timber Falls? What will you do for a living? All you know is the Asher Corporation—it’s your legacy.”

  “It’s the girls’ legacy, too.”

  “Yes—but the Ashers are done here in Timber Falls. Your life is in Seattle, your work is in Seattle—the only thing here is us.”

  He stepped closer to her. “What if that’s enough?”

  She shook her head. “It won’t be enough for you—I know that firsthand.”

  He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.

  “I can’t tell you where to live or how to live,” she said, “but I can tell you that there is no room in my life for us.” She motioned between her and Chase, not even sure if he wanted an “us,” but needing him to know where she stood.

  He didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats. “I know I hurt you, Joy, and I wish you knew how sorry I am.” He paused and looked at the river to compose his emotions. When he met her gaze again, he said, “You’re right. My life and work are in Seattle, but now my heart is here in Timber Falls. I care about you and the kids more than you know. I’m not sure what the future holds for me—but I know I cannot go back to the life I was living. Please be patient with me as I figure out what to do next.”

  It was a simple, yet complicated request. The least she could do was be patient with him.

  “I will.” She nodded. “But, please, as you’re trying to figure things out, know that I cannot be a part of that future.”

  Joy had nothing left to say, so she walked past him toward the house.

  She knew she had done the right thing and made the right decision, so then why did she feel like she’d just made a huge mistake? Hadn’t she dreamed Chase would realize his mistake and come back for her? Today was the first indication that he still cared about her and she had reacted so poorly.

  Forcing her thoughts to quiet, she continued toward the house, praying to find a way to purchase Bee Tree Hill as soon as possible so Chase could go back to Seattle.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chase returned to the swing and sat there for a long time, his head in his hands. How could a few chickens cause so much turmoil?

  If he was honest, he knew this had nothing to do with the chickens, and everything to do with Joy’s hurt and fears. He had found the one gift that would mean the most to her and show her how much he cared. It scared her. He got that—he just hadn’t expected it to make her so upset.

  His phone rang and he pulled it from his back pocket.

  It was his dad.

  Malcolm Asher was the last person Chase wanted to talk to right now, so he turned off the ringer and put his phone back.

  The sun set and the lights in the main house turned on. Mosquitoes started to bite and he swatted at them, irritated by their annoying buzz.

  No doubt Mrs. Thompson had already served supper, but Chase would have to eat alone tonight. He couldn’t walk into that house and face Joy right now.

  When she told him that there was no future for them, something had twisted in his gut. He had left her four years ago, and it had hurt her, but he realized in that moment that he’d always hoped there was a way to fix things, to somehow return to where they had once been.

  But now that he knew there wasn’t, he wanted it more than ever. He loved Joy, had never stopped, and seeing her as a strong, independent and patient mom had only strengthened those feelings.

  No matter how she felt about him, though, it didn’t change his desire to help her and the kids.

  He stood and walked toward the carriage house. His stomach growled, but he’d have to settle for cereal. Mrs. Thompson would go out of her way to reheat some leftovers if he went to the main house right now, but he wouldn’t do that to Joy. She probably wanted him to stay away tonight.

  The carriage house was dark, so he switched on the light when he entered. Everything was as he left it—empty and cold. His thoughts wandered up the hill to the main house where the kids were probably playing a game or watching a movie. Joy would be getting the girls ready for bed. Harper would want a story read to her and Kinsley would be talking about all the things they had done that day. No doubt she would be asking all sorts of questions about the chickens, reminding Joy of the awkward moment when he had suggested they were meant as a personal gift.

  He closed the door and went to the cupboard to get out the cereal and a bowl, but he just stood there for a minute, berating himself for being so clumsy with Joy.

  A ping sounded from his phone, so he pulled it out to look at the text.

  Listen to my message. His dad again.

  Chase pulled a chair out from the table and sat. He tapped the voice mail icon and put the phone to his ear.

  I just spoke to Tidwell and he told me you won’t show him the property until August. Dad’s voice was deep and painfully steady. You’re trying my patience, Chase. You have exactly two hours to call Tidwell and schedule an appointment to show him Bee Tree Hill at his earliest convenience. This is your last warning.

  The message ended.

  Chase set the phone on the top of the table and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. It was only the first of July. They still had almost four weeks until the festival, and Mr. Taylor was only halfway through his work. He had
just told Chase yesterday that he needed at least two more weeks to finish his inventory and make a final assessment. Mr. Taylor had also recommended a historical property specialist from Saint Paul who would be arriving in the morning. He and Mr. Taylor would discuss Bee Tree Hill and the specialist would give Chase a property value.

  He’d finally know exactly what the property was worth and how much he and Joy would need to scrape together to buy the place from the Asher Corporation.

  “Lord,” Chase said into the quiet house, closing his eyes and dipping his head, “all this feels impossible to me right now, but Your word says that nothing is impossible for You. I know my father and I know what happens when he gets his mind set. I pray You would make a way for me to give this home to Joy and the kids. Help me to make the right decisions, say the right things and do what I need to do to save the property from an investor.” He let out a low, steady breath, feeling a little more peaceful leaving this problem in God’s hands. “And if it’s not Your will, please show me what You want me to do. Help me be the dad I need to be, and help me heal the hurt I caused Joy. In Your name, I pray. Amen.”

  It wasn’t an eloquent prayer, but it was heartfelt and it was all Chase could think to do.

  When he opened his eyes, he picked up his phone and found Conrad Tidwell’s number in his contacts. He pressed Call and waited as the phone rang.

  “Hello, Chase,” Mr. Tidwell said. “I was hoping you’d call me back.”

  “Hello, Mr. Tidwell.” Chase stood and paced over to the window, which looked out at the pond. The sky was already dark, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what the pond looked like in his mind’s eye. He braced himself, knowing he had little choice. “When would you like to see the property?”

  “I am planning to fly into Minneapolis on the morning of July twenty-eighth. I can be in Timber Falls by noon.”

  It would be the day after the festival. At least they could still hold that as planned.

  “I can make the twenty-eighth work.” Chase shoved his free hand into his pocket. “I should have all the property assessments ready by that time.”

  “Good. I’m eager to see the estate.” Mr. Tidwell sounded pleased. “I will be there on the twenty-eighth.”

  “If you have any questions before then, don’t hesitate to call or text.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “We’ll see you on the twenty-eighth at noon.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Chase tapped the red phone icon and stared at the home screen for a minute. He hated that he didn’t have more time—but he was thankful for the time he’d been given.

  At least there were four more weeks until Tidwell showed up. Chase would use those four weeks to fight for more than the house. He was ready to fight for Joy and the kids, too.

  * * *

  “Thank you,” Joy said to Mr. Johnson at the movie theater the next afternoon as she stood near the ticket counter. The smell of fresh popcorn wafted through the air, making her stomach growl. She’d been out collecting donations all morning and hadn’t stopped to eat lunch. “I appreciate the donation and I hope to see you at the festival.”

  “You can count on it, Joy.” Mr. Johnson was a tall man with gray hair and thick glasses. “Mary and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  She picked up the basket he’d put together for the silent auction they would hold during the Bee Tree Hill Festival. The basket held a ten-pack of tickets, a popcorn bucket full of coupons for free popcorn and half a dozen boxes of theater candy.

  Pushing open the door, she stepped onto the sidewalk running along Main Street and paused when she saw Chase’s red Jeep parked near her minivan.

  He leaned against the front fender wearing a navy blue polo shirt, a pair of khaki shorts and brown flip-flops. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but they did not hide the dazzling smile he gave her.

  Nerves bubbled in her chest and she had to catch her breath. Despite her best efforts, he still made her heart pound.

  “Mrs. Thompson told me where I could find you.” He pushed away from the Jeep and walked over to her. Without asking, he took the basket out of her hands and went to the minivan.

  Joy clicked the unlock button on her key fob. Chase opened the back gate and set the basket next to the others.

  “What are you doing downtown?” she finally managed to ask.

  They hadn’t spoken since the night before when she’d overreacted about the chickens. That morning, she’d left before he came to the house for breakfast and she thought he’d be busy with the property assessor for the rest of the day.

  “I wanted to help you,” he said while closing the back gate.

  “I think I’m done for the day.” She had spent all morning downtown going from shop to shop asking for donations. It was a humbling experience, but she was doing it for the kids—and not one single person had said no. They knew Joy, whether from church, from her work at the elementary school or from just growing up in the community. They also loved Bee Tree Hill and wanted it to be owned by a local family. News traveled fast and everyone knew the Asher Corporation planned to sell the property.

  “That’s even better,” Chase said. “I was hoping to take you out to lunch. I have a feeling you didn’t stop to eat.”

  “Am I that predictable?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled, but then her smile faded and she said, “I don’t know, Chase.”

  His eyes were shaded by his sunglasses as he regarded her. “I’m sorry about last night—”

  “I’m the one who should apologize.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I haven’t been handling any of this well.”

  “You’ve been amazing. You’re so good with the kids.”

  “But I want to be good with you, too.” He took off his sunglasses and his blue eyes were bright with apology. “I want to be friends, Joy—if for no other reason than because of Harper and Kinsley.”

  He was right. They would forever share their daughters. No matter how much she wanted distance to protect her heart, he would always be a part of her life. Friendship would make that a lot easier.

  “I want to take you out to eat as a friend and nothing more.” His eyes softened and he smiled. “I like you and I want you to like me again, too.”

  She did like him—more than she should. “I don’t think it’ll be hard to become friends.”

  His smile was warm, but a shadow passed over his eyes. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

  “Did you speak to the assessor?”

  He put his glasses back on and tilted his head. “Let me buy you lunch and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  She locked the minivan doors and walked to the end of the street with him. They waited at the stoplight and then took the crosswalk to the other side of Main Street. The ash trees lining the street were in full bloom, their green leaves shading the historic streetlights and lush planters. Pink-and-white impatiens overgrew their containers, dripping around the edges, intermixing with the trailing ivy.

  A gentle breeze ruffled Joy’s hair as Chase led her into Ruby’s Bistro. The owner, Ruby Farrow, had moved to Timber Falls from the Twin Cities a dozen years before and renovated an old hardware store into an upscale restaurant. She was a Le Cordon Bleu chef and offered an array of culinary items not seen anywhere else in Timber Falls. It was Joy’s favorite place to eat—other than Mrs. Thompson’s kitchen.

  They were shown to a small table near one of the large plateglass windows near the front of the building and given menus.

  After their orders were placed, Joy leaned back in her chair and studied Chase. “What happened at the house today?”

  He took a sip of his water and set down his glass. His sunglasses were on the table and he began to fiddle with them. “I took Mr. O’Conner through the property, answered all his questions and then gave him and Mr.
Taylor some time to confer.” He looked up from his sunglasses and met her gaze. “He valued the property at slightly higher than I had hoped.”

  In most other situations, an owner would be happy to hear their property was worth more than they had thought—but not this time. Joy nibbled her bottom lip and tried not to let her disappointment show.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “With the last two grants you were awarded, the loan I qualified for and all the donations you’ve been given, we’re almost halfway to our goal.”

  She tried to feel hopeful, but they only had a few more weeks.

  “Mr. Asher?” An older woman approached their table.

  Joy recognized her as Marcy Hanover. She didn’t know her personally, but Marcy had written for the Timber Falls weekly newspaper years ago. She was probably seventy now, but she was still healthy and active. Even though she didn’t write anymore, she still volunteered for several service organizations and at the county historical society.

  “Are you Chase Asher?” Marcy asked.

  Chase stood and extended his hand. “I am.”

  Marcy shook his hand, her eyes wide. “I’m Marcy Hanover. Your uncle Morgan and I used to be very close.”

  Joy frowned. Uncle Morgan had never mentioned a relationship with Marcy—but now that she thought about it, Morgan always attended the yearly historical society members meeting, regularly attended the monthly Exchange Club meetings that Marcy presided over, gave generously to the downtown-beautification organization that Marcy spearheaded and was responsible for the beautiful flower planters outside.

  Maybe Morgan and Marcy were sweethearts once upon a time—but if they had been, what happened?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Chase said.

  Marcy turned to wave over a table full of elderly ladies who had been sitting in the corner. They stood and came toward Chase and Joy with schoolgirl giggles and bright eyes. Each one was older than Mrs. Thompson, and some were more bent than others, but they looked at Chase like he was a celebrity.

  “I told you this was Chase Asher,” Marcy said to her retinue.