by Jo Grafford
Fortunately, Hope and her mother were a similar size, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to fit into a borrowed outfit. Since Kellan was in the house, she locked herself in her mother’s bedroom and made use of the master bedroom shower. That way, she wouldn’t have to traipse back and forth across the hallway, between the guest room and her mother’s closet, in nothing but a robe or towel.
Her mother’s master bedroom suite was as feminine and ladylike as she was. Her walls were a soft lavender, and her bed linens were edged in endless amounts of white eyelet lace. The bathroom was no different. Plush lavender towels were draped neatly on a silver bar next to the tile shower. Even her shampoo and body soap were lavender.
It felt like heaven to step beneath the warm spray of water and rinse off the stress of the week. I’m going to smell like a freaking flower shop when I leave this room. Grinning, she toweled off and returned to her mother’s bedroom to start yanking open dresser drawers. From past experience, she knew to rummage all the way to the back of the drawer, where her mother kept her new, unopened packages of lingerie.
Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll replace anything I take. She quickly found what she was looking for. As she withdrew the filmy garments from the drawer, however, her fingers brushed something papery. Frowning in puzzlement, she unearthed a bundle of envelopes. They were tied together with a pale purple ribbon. The most shocking thing of all was that they were addressed to none other than Josh Hawling!
Normally, Hope would’ve respected her mother’s privacy, but this was simply too juicy of a discovery to ignore. What reason could her mother possibly have to write the man that Hope had broken things off with? Even more puzzling, why was she still in possession of the letters, since they were addressed to Josh?
Hope untied the ribbon with trembling fingers and removed the first letter from its envelope. And then she knew.
It was because her mother had never sent them. There were six of them in all, each dated shortly after Hope’s exit from town to attend college. In fact, the first letter was written the day after she’d left.
Dear Josh:
I just found out what my husband did, and I couldn’t be more distraught. Though he’s never considered you good enough for our daughter, I know you have a good heart…
As she read on, Hope’s knees slowly gave out. “No,” she breathed, stricken to the core. “Oh, father! How could you?”
Her mother’s sentences were a bit disjointed, but Hope was able to piece together enough of it to create a picture of why the tone of letters was so upset. It was because Hope’s father had somehow discovered that Josh planned to leave town with her, and he’d intercepted Josh on the covered bridge that morning before her arrival.
It was unclear exactly what her father had said or done to Josh, only that Josh had been convinced to walk away and let her leave for college. Alone.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door, making Hope jolt.
“Are you in there, sweetie?” The doorknob rattled. “Why did you lock the door?”
Feeling old and exhausted, Hope dragged herself to her feet and made her way across the room to let her mother in.
“What are you—? Oh, Hope!” her mother sighed as her gaze settled on the envelopes in her daughter’s hand. She shut the door. “You weren’t supposed to ever see those.”
Clearly! A burst of anger made Hope crumple the pile of letters in one hand. “I loved him,” she rasped. “I loved him so much!”
“I know, baby,” her mother crooned, reaching for the letters.
Hope yanked them out of her reach. “You had no right,” she seethed.
“It was your father’s doing, honey,” her mother protested.
“But you knew,” Hope cried brokenly. “You knew, and you never said anything.”
“I know, baby. I—”
“It broke my heart.” Hope shook her head in disbelief. “It broke…me.”
“I’m so sorry,” her mother breathed. “If I had it to do again, I…” She spread her hands helplessly. “I honestly don’t know what I would do.” She smoothed back a nonexistent stray hair and spoke in a faraway voice. “You know how badly your father wanted you to go to college, to be the first person in our family to ever attend college. It was his dying wish, in fact. That’s why he didn’t tell you about the cancer before you left, and that’s why he stopped Josh that morning. That sweet boy would’ve been nothing but a distraction to your studies.”
With a piteous moan, Hope sank to the bed. “A distraction? Mother, he was the man I was in love with. He was irreplaceable. Heaven knows I’ve tried.”
“There, there. It’ll all turn out in the end. You’ll see.” Making a few soft clucking sounds, Clara Remington glided across the room to throw open her closet door. She disappeared inside and emerged with a set of hangers over one arm. There was a black cocktail dress and a royal blue one, plus a stunning red halter dress.
She held them up one by one, peeking around them at Hope in consideration. “The red one, I think. You always did look amazing in red, my dear.” She tossed the other two dresses across her bed beside Hope. “You’re going to knock the socks off the friend you have waiting in the living room. I really like him, baby. He’s a perfect gentleman. So nice and so handsome. I have a sneaking suspicion he may be rich, too.” She made a happy sound. “I think even your father would’ve approved of this one.”
Hope gave a dry chuckle that came out sounding more like a whimper. “Kellan is a billionaire, actually.” She bitterly pushed herself to her feet.
“Oh, my!” Her mother stared at her, wide-eyed with shock. “That’s pretty um… Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Hope whisked the red dress from her mother’s grasp and tossed it on the bed beside the others. Then she snatched up the black one. “I think I’ll go with black this evening. It suits my mood better.” Without looking back, she stepped inside her mother’s bathroom and shut the door.
Feeling like she was going to be sick, she hung the cocktail dress on the shower bar and leaned over the sink, drawing in deep heaving breaths.
Josh kept his word to me. He came to the bridge, just like he said he would. A sob ripped through her chest and tore its way up her throat. For years she’d wondered what had gone wrong that day, and now she knew. Well, technically, it wasn’t a “what” that had gotten in the way of her happiness, but a “who.” Someone else whom she’d loved too much to see his faults back then. Her own father, no less.
Hope dressed in numb silence, broken only by an occasional breathy sob. In the time it took to blow-dry her hair, however, she finally managed to regain control of her emotions. Sort of. She was still feeling painfully raw and brittle as she dabbed on face powder and mascara and applied a layer of lip gloss.
To save time, she left her hair down, feeling dazed as she exited the bathroom and moved toward the bedroom door. Since her mother’s dainty feet had always been a half size smaller than hers, she dipped her toes back into the red heels she’d arrived in. Then she dazedly left the room and made her way up the short hallway to the living room.
Kellan took one look at her and stood. Striding up to her, he gripped her elbows and peered into her face. “What’s wrong?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Hope watched her mother finish setting out dinner on the round walnut dining table in the adjoining room. “This,” she muttered, hastily stuffing the first letter in his hand.
With one last searching look at her, he unfolded it and scanned its contents. “Interesting,” he noted under his breath.
“Among other things,” she muttered.
He handed the letter back. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because I didn’t consider it to be my business, but…” He cupped her upper arm and leaned closer to speak directly in her ear. “Your mother sold the family farm to Josh Hawling for a steep discount. All but gave it away.”
Hope sniffed. “To assuage her guilt, apparently.”
“Looks like.” He squeezed her arm. “I guess
it all depends on the shape the property was in. According to my sources, she’d already sold everything that could be moved. All the cattle, horses, farming equipment, even the automated security gates. He took ownership of the bare bones house, barns, and land.”
“Dinner’s ready,” her mother announced merrily from the other room.
Hope bit her lip. “I don’t know if I can face her right now,” she whispered. “I think my mother may be losing it.”
“You can.” Kellan gently squeezed her arm one last time before letting go. “It may not be easy, but you’ve got me, remember?”
Clara Remington kept drenching Hope with adoring smiles and seemed to be making every effort to pretend like their disastrous encounter in her master bedroom had never occurred.
“Have you heard about the new K9 unit they’re developing down at the Heart Lake Police Department?” she trilled as she passed a platter of baked salmon around the table.
“Yes. Josh Hawling mentioned it to me at work.” Hope lifted her chin defiantly, daring her mother to complain about the mention of his name as she forked two bites of salmon into her plate. The events leading up to dinner had destroyed her appetite, so there was no point in loading up her plate. “He said the sheriff would like to bring the scent dogs to our high school for periodic patrols.”
“Good grief!” Her mother’s eyes widened. “That sounds a little extreme, don’t you think?”
Hope shrugged. “If Josh authorizes the dog patrols, I won’t be standing in his way.” Josh was in favor of them being used for drug searches.
“Authorizes?” Her mother looked confused. “Why would Josh Hawling involve himself in your affairs at the high school?”
“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Hope tasted a surge of unholy delight to be the one to tell her. “He’s our head of security.”
“You’re kidding!” Clara Remington gasped. She was silent a moment before adding, “I reckon that means he’ll be the one taking responsibility if anyone gets bitten during these patrols.”
Hope couldn’t help wondering why her mother was so interested in something that clearly didn’t concern her. “It’s not likely. Josh tells me that police dogs are very well trained, by and large. Each of them will be on a leash and in the care of a dog handler. Plus, the patrols will take place while class is in session, when there are a minimal number of students roaming the hallways.”
Her mother pursed her lips as she passed around a bowl of steamed vegetables. “All the same, it might not hurt to bring the matter to the attention of a few of my friends. They’ll set me straight if they think I’m overacting. They’ll also know who to elevate my concerns to, if it comes to that.”
Hope ground her fork so hard against her plate that it made a scratching sound. She wanted to ask if her mother’s precious friends were the ones who’d advised her to support her husband’s decision to carve Josh Hawling out of their only daughter’s life all those years ago.
Her mother eyed the gold rimmed dinner plate resting in front of her daughter, but said nothing. The three of them ate in silence for a few minutes.
Kellan finally cleared his throat and glanced up from his plate. “I have some good news.”
“We would love to hear it!” Clara Remington gushed, laying down her fork and folding her hands on the edge of the table. “I, for one, am deathly tired of all the bad news lately.” Her blue gaze flickered briefly to her daughter before returning to him.
Kellan waggled his brows teasingly at Hope. “We just this afternoon finished getting all the final permits signed off on rebuilding the Heart Lake Bridge.” The bridge spanned the narrowest section of the lake, connecting the north side of town with the south side. Ever since the cluster of tornadoes had rendered it impassable, folks had been forced to drive the outer belt around the lake.
“You are so wonderful!” Knowing how hard Kellan had worked to help make it happen, she leaned closer to throw her arms around him.
“I know,” he teased, hugging her back, “but it’s nice to hear it, anyway.”
She leaned back against her seat in relief at the fact that he still seemed enthused about helping to rebuild Heart Lake. At her refusal to date him, he could’ve packed up and left town. As the CEO of the Black Ties philanthropic organization that happened to be funding a good amount of their town’s rebuilding projects, he had the full authority to allocate the funds however he saw fit. She was both humbled and thrilled that he continued to use them to benefit her hometown.
“I have some good news, too.” Clara Remington gave them a secret smile as she rose from her chair and hurried into the kitchen. She returned with a homemade cheesecake and all the trimmings — strawberry sauce, whipped cream, and chocolate shavings. “Dessert is always good news in my book.”
She served generous slices to both Hope and Kellan, despite the fact that Hope had hardly eaten anything else up to this point. As Kellan dove into his piece, Clara Remington launched into various tidbits of local gossip. “I hear the fellow that the sheriff brought in to head up his new K9 unit is about to marry Enid Remington’s great-granddaughter. And get this. She’s some fancy home decorator who fixed up the house that her fiancé bought and is currently living in.” She paused dramatically. “So when they marry, they’ll essentially be merging the old homestead back to its original size. That’s really something, isn’t it?”
A wicked thought popped into Hope’s mind. “Now there’s an idea,” she cooed. “Marrying a man to regain control of one’s family estate, so to speak. A very, very interesting idea.”
Her mother’s gaze darkened as she studied her daughter, knowing full well that Hope was referring to the fact she’d sold their home to the man Hope had once hoped to marry. “Here’s another bit of news,” she snapped after a pause. “I just found out from Jen’s mother down at the florist that our local bull-riding legend is dating her oldest daughter, Laurel. There’s a bit of an age difference between them, but everyone deserves to be happy, don’t they? Especially him, after being single and lonely for so many years.”
Hope’s fork clattered to her plate, while her mother daintily dabbed her lips with her napkin.
Josh Hawling is dating Laurel Williams? Hope suddenly felt like the few bites she’d eaten over dinner were stuck in her throat. Fearing they were about to come back up, she stood. “Thank you for dinner, mother. Everything was lovely as usual. The salmon, the cheesecake, and the gossip.”
“Oh, are you leaving so soon?” Clara Remington looked genuinely distressed at the notion. “But you just got here, hon!”
Hope walked around the table to kiss her mother on the cheek. “I love you, Mother,” she said softly. Even though you’ve spent the last however many years trying to destroy every last ounce of my happiness. She hoped her college education had been worth the cost. Was it truly enough for her mother to brag to her friends about Hope’s PhD and her job as head principal of Heart Lake High?
She wouldn’t be surprised if her mother added her daughter’s billionaire “boyfriend” to her lists of brags in the near future.
Instead of driving home, Hope drove out to the covered bridge for what she expected would be the last time. She was finally ready to lay her last skeletons to rest, and this was the only way she knew how.
The last purple smudges of sunset were fading into the darkness of night by the time she arrived at the bridge. She turned off her motor but remained sitting in her car for several moments. This was it. After years of wondering and grieving, she finally knew the truth.
Her father had talked Josh Hawling out of leaving town with her. Which meant both of the men who were dearest to her had a hand in breaking her heart. She could see only one clear path through this kind of heartache, and that was by letting go. She was going to forgive both of them this evening, and then she was going to walk away from all the hurt. For good.
Leaning forward to rest her forehead on her steering wheel, she fingered the stack of letters in her lap. I can do this. Josh
had already moved on and was dating again. She could do the same.
Just thinking about him and Laurel together infused her with enough energy to open her car door and step outside. She winced as the toe of her shoe pinched a little. Ugh! She’d clearly had her high heels on too long today. Kicking them off, she left them lying beside her open car door and made her way barefoot to the bridge.
She walked to the very center of it and leaned over the railing. Then she slowly started to tear up her mother’s letters. A brisk wind was swirling off the mountains, so all she had to do was let go of the pieces of paper, and they flitted away. She watched as they drifted like fat white snowflakes into the water below, briefly clung to the surface, and became waterlogged enough to sink below the waves.
As she shredded each letter, Hope pondered that day on the bridge ten years ago and how drastically it had changed the course of her existence.
“I never thought I would catch you littering.” Josh Hawling’s amused voice carried across the bridge. “What’s going on? Did you commit a crime and come out here to destroy the evidence?”
“No.” She let the last handful of paper shreds go and turned to face him. “Those were a stack of letters I found this evening that my mother wrote to you ten years ago.”
His dark gaze grew shuttered in the moonlight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know.” Hope clasped her hands in front of her. “She never sent them. I found them by accident.”
“I see. Is it something you care to talk about?” As he took a step closer, the moon overhead cast its white rays in stripes through the roof slats, sending altering lines of dark, light, dark, light across Josh’s features.
“Not really.” Hope gripped her hands more tightly. “I don’t mind telling you that I finally learned the truth, though.”