Rose McCall, it said in spiky, formal script. Beneath it was added the name Wheeler, with a heart drawn beside it.
So now Maddie knew. Her grandmother's maiden name had been McCall. And she had loved Jack Wheeler, the grandfather who had died too soon. Rose might even have been a romantic, Maddie thought. Drawing the heart was something a younger Maddie might have done.
The thought of her grandmother as a hopeful young bride brought a smile. Then Maddie remembered how it had all turned out, and her heart ached for the woman she'd never met.
Reining in her thoughts, Maddie turned the page. The diary seemed to start when Rose had been twelve, and soon Maddie was lost in a life utterly different than anything she'd known. Rose spoke of hard times, and Maddie found a date that pinpointed this as what came to be called the Great Depression. But Rose spoke of girlish dreams and seemed to take the hardships in stride.
Soon Maddie traveled with Rose through teenage years in a world so innocent it was hard to believe. She marveled at the simplicity of life, the lack of cynicism, the focus on a world close at hand.
Until Maddie's stomach growled, she never even registered that she'd forgotten to eat lunch. A quick glance at the shifted sunlight told her that lunch was hours past. Reluctantly, she closed the book and reached for the table to set it down, but she didn't reach far enough and it slipped off the table's edge. As she grabbed for it, a folded sheet of paper fluttered to the floor.
Maddie righted the book and opened the paper. The sheet bore no date. Maddie read the words on the page with growing disbelief.
I do not know what to do. I have just heard that Jenny is marrying Sam Gallagher. My heart cries out to tell her that Dalton is not dead, but what good would it do? I curse the day I cast all of our lives into hell by fighting back when Buster raged. Now I have no son, and Jenny is marrying another. My son is lost to me. He paid too high a price to save me. If I knew where he was, I would turn myself in so that he could reclaim his life, no matter what Ben says.
I am the last of my line. My blood will not inherit this place.
My mind returns, again and again, to Jenny's visit before she left town months ago. She was pale and trembling; she would start to speak as if to confide, then lapse into silence. It was all I could do to cling to the story that Dalton was dead.
She has been gone for seven months. I think back to cues that were there and wonder. Did Jenny bear my grandchild somewhere far away? Is there a piece of my son lost to us all?
And do I have the right to ask her? I could be wrong. It could be wishful thinking. Jenny was always an upright child, but she did love Dalton deeply, as he loved her. They could have yielded to natural urges. But once he vanished, would she not have told me or asked me for help?
Perhaps not. She was always a thoughtful girl, and she knew I was half out of my mind with grief.
Sam is a good young man, Dalton's best friend. I have known for years that he loved Jenny, too, though she never had eyes for anyone but my son. If she had borne Dalton's child, would Sam have taken it to his heart? And what would it do to their fledgling marriage if I bring my questions to light?
I must think on this longer, and pray for guidance. Jenny has suffered greatly. I do not wish to cause her more pain. I cannot offer her the comfort of hearing that Dalton is alive without torturing her with the knowledge that he is lost to us both. Ben told him he had to vanish and make a new life under a new name. Even Ben doesn't know where he is now.
Ben is a good man who has helped me carry a heavy secret. He is happy for his Sam to be marrying Jenny. After all he has done for Dalton and me, do I have the right to destroy Sam's happiness?
I do not know the answers. Dear Lord, guide me in the right path.
Maddie didn't know what to think, how to feel. She flipped the diary open to the last page. It was dated a year earlier. She had been through the entire trunk. There was nowhere else to look for the answer to Rose's questions.
Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She might have a brother or sister out there somewhere. She might not be alone, after all. Her pulse scrambled.
Where were the answers? What would Boone say when she told him?
Oh, dear. Boone. If there had been a child of Jenny and Dalton's, it would be his half-sibling, too.
Maddie leapt to her feet, ready to race downstairs to tell him—
She froze. Tell him what? Boone thought his mother an angel. Boone had had so much uproar in his life lately. Did she have the right to destroy his image of her, too, the one thing left pure and shining from his childhood?
Maddie knew only too well how it felt to suddenly find out that your parent wasn't the person you thought. She couldn't put Boone through that with so little evidence. She couldn't tell Boone until she was sure. What she'd read was pure speculation on Rose's part, guessing that her son had—
Maddie sat down heavily. Had fathered a child he'd never even known he had. With the woman he had loved first and best. Her eyes filled with tears. So much loss, so much pain. Even if he'd never known it, Maddie ached at one more example of all her father had sacrificed.
Then excitement stirred again. She might have a brother or sister—she couldn't wait to find him or her. She leapt to her feet and prepared to race down to the telephone to call—
Whom? She had no one who would understand but Boone.
Then she remembered. Dev would be back. Dev would help her.
She had to keep this from Boone until she knew whether or not this child even existed. Then she would figure out a way to break the news.
Maybe he would be happy. It would be a piece of his mother, lost for years.
But even as Maddie voiced the thought in her mind, she knew she might be very wrong. She was alone. She had reason to welcome a sibling. Boone already had a brother and a clear, untarnished image of his mother in his mind.
Maddie would not disturb that fragile memory. Not yet, not until there was no choice. It was the least she could do for a man whose life had already been thrown into chaos by other people's mistakes.
* * *
Boone was out in the north pasture digging postholes when Jim found him.
"You plannin' to dig your way down to China?"
Boone kept working, needing the exertion. The handles of the posthole diggers held tight in his fists, he struck another harsh blow into the soil, until the clang of metal against limestone sent a shock singing up his arms.
"It's getting late. You about ready to wrap up?"
Boone shot Jim a glance. Without speaking, he shook his head.
"Not easy, diggin' postholes in the dark," Jim observed casually.
Boone jammed the posthole diggers down in the hole and jerked around. "What the hell do you want, Jim?"
"It won't help, you know."
"We already agreed that this fence needs moving."
"This fall. Not today. And you know that's not what I'm talking about."
Boone subsided then, staring off into the distance.
"Three weeks left, right?"
Boone nodded.
"You gonna waste them digging postholes or you gonna see if that little gal might change her mind?"
"She won't." Boone's jaw tightened.
Jim cursed, long and low. "You asked her, flat out?"
"No. But she's said it often enough."
"You might could change her mind. I've seen her look at you."
He shot Jim a glance. "What do you mean by that?"
"After the dance, she stared at you like you were some kind of hero."
A thousand years had passed between him and Maddie since the dance. A thousand miles they'd traveled on a path leading nowhere.
"Leave it alone, Jim. There's no future for Maddie and me."
"So you're just going to leave it at that? There's nothing left of the boy inside the man?"
Boone's head jerked up. "What does that mean?"
"I knew a fourteen-year-old boy who kept this ranch from going under through s
heer will, when everything else in his life had fallen to pieces."
"I had you to help me. And I left as soon as I could."
"Four years later. Four years of hell. And anyone would have left. You came back when Sam needed you, even though he'd treated you like something he scraped off his boot."
"And I managed to kill my wife and—" Boone swore at what he'd almost revealed.
But Jim didn't notice. "You are going to beat yourself into the ground about that worthless woman until the day you die, aren't you? And in the meantime, you're going to let pure gold slip through your fingers."
"You don't understand."
"I understand that you're doing something I never thought I'd see from you. You're giving up without a fight."
"I'm trying to do right by her, damn it. There's nothing for her here." His already-strained temper exploded. "You tell me why a woman who could take New York by storm would want to settle for a piece of dirt in Texas, Jim. I sure as hell can't figure it out. But you go ahead—figure out why in the hell Maddie would want to stay here, and I'll be glad to fight to keep her."
Jim looked only slightly chastened. "Maddie feels something for this place, more every day."
Boone fought the urge to rub his chest where it ached. "But it's not enough."
The older man studied him. "Maybe she's waiting for you to give her more reasons."
He couldn't let himself think about how much he wished that were true. And his pride kept him from telling Jim that he couldn't stand not being enough for Maddie, watching that bright light dim as she got past the sentimental attachment to her grandmother's place and realized that all he had to offer wasn't enough.
"Luanne Mason has been talking about selling The Dinner Bell."
Boone snorted. "Maddie's got job offers in Manhattan. Why would she want a greasy spoon in Morning Star?"
"Maybe there's more to Maddie than you realize. She's been wandering for a long time. I think she's hungry for someplace to belong."
So far-fetched. Jim hadn't seen her with Marlowe, hadn't watched her eyes sparkle, discussing New York. But for one treacherous instant, Boone let himself think about Maddie staying. Even if The Dinner Bell only kept her here for a while, it would buy him time to bind her to him, to think of something else.
No, it was crazy. He was crazy for grasping at straws.
"I can tell you're already talking yourself out of it. I know it's a long shot, but when did that ever stop you before?"
It was more than a long shot. It was a trip to Mars. But there was nothing to be lost by mentioning it to Maddie, he guessed. But was it right for Maddie?
Boone looked at the lowering sun and grabbed the posthole diggers in one hand. "I'll mention it, even though it won't do any good."
Satisfaction lit up Jim's grin. "It's a start, son."
"It's a dead end, and you know it."
"It wouldn’t be the first time Maddie surprised you." Jim walked away, whistling.
Jim had no idea how much Boone wished, for once, that the older man was right and Boone was wrong.
He loaded up his gear and headed for the house.
* * *
Boone walked in the back door, both eager and nervous as he hadn't been since his first date.Then he heard a man's voice, along with Maddie's.
Oh, hell. He'd forgotten about Marlowe.
He decided to head for the shower and hope Marlowe would be gone before he got out, but as he passed Sam's office, Maddie appeared in the doorway.
"Oh—hi, Boone." Her eyes were huge and dark, her face pale. "I didn't realize—" She held the edge of the door like she was hiding something.
Then Marlowe opened the door wide behind her, and a furtive glance passed between them.
Boone's hopes died with that glance.
A damn fool, he was, to have courted hope, even for the last few minutes. Marlowe was her type, lived in her world.
You could live in that world, Boone.
No, he couldn't. Not anymore. And Maddie couldn't live in his.
"Marlowe," he nodded. "Maddie."
"I haven't fixed dinner yet," she said. "I can—"
He cut her off ruthlessly. "I'm going out." Not that he knew where. Just away from here.
"Oh." Relief skipped across her features. She and Marlowe traded another glance.
Then it hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, the memory of what it had felt like to be the man deceived. To know that the woman in your life wanted to be with someone else.
Thank God he hadn't yet told Maddie what he'd come up here thinking tonight. He hadn't laid his heart on the ground to be trampled. His pride was intact.
Funny how it didn't feel that great.
"Find everything you need, Marlowe?"
Marlowe's gaze met his with slight hesitation. "Yeah. Maddie's been helping me."
Within Boone rose a howling beast that wanted to punch the man's lights out. Wanted to smash him into a pulp, just for being right for Maddie when Boone was all wrong.
Ruthlessly, he crushed that beast down. "Good." He nodded. Then his voice turned rougher than he intended. "Find my brother, Marlowe."
He thought he saw sympathy in the man's eyes, and the beast roared out again.
Marlowe nodded. "I'm doing everything I can."
Oh, I can see what you're doing. Before he did something he would regret, Boone turned away and climbed the stairs.
* * *
Boone had been gone for four days, and Jim said he might make one more livestock auction before he returned. Maddie was glad. Waiting for updates from Dev was hard enough without sneaking around Boone. More than once in the two days before Boone had left, Maddie had driven into Morning Star to call Dev, afraid of accidentally revealing the quest to Boone before she had any concrete answers.
But she missed him, more than she'd ever imagined. Never mind that he'd been only a polite stranger before he left—the house felt huge and empty without him.
She'd taken to cooking for Jim and Sonny and sending meals home. Both men's wives had sent their thanks for the break. Velda had even told Jim that Maddie should buy The Dinner Bell and make everyone in Morning Star happy.
Maddie tried to imagine owning a place called The Dinner Bell. Tried to imagine what she would serve.
Her city friends would split their sides laughing.
But Maddie wasn't. For a few moments of insanity, she had actually considered it seriously.
Then last night, Régine had called from Sancerre and upped the ante. She'd dangled a potential ownership interest before Maddie, a very tempting prospect.
But Régine was getting impatient. She wanted a commitment, wanted Maddie there now. Maddie had tried to explain her responsibility to Boone, but Régine couldn't seem to understand why throwing money at the problem wouldn't work. Surely the Caswells would take money to go away and let Boone have the place early.
Maddie wasn't prepared to discuss a past fraught with tragedy to a woman who couldn't care less. Nor could she truly explain why her promise to Boone was so important.
Régine had accused Maddie of falling in love with a cowboy, had teased Maddie about succumbing to a pair of tight jeans.
How could she explain Boone's haunted eyes, his nobility, the way he made her feel inside? Régine made him into a cliché, and Maddie had had to bite her tongue to avoid offending the woman who dangled a tantalizing future before her.
She wasn't in love with Boone. She couldn't afford to be. It was the road to heartache.
The phone rang and Maddie dove for it, grateful for the interruption.
"Hello?"
"Maddie, I'm in Morning Star," Dev said. "Is Boone still gone?"
"Yes, but Jim doesn't know if he'll get home today or not."
"Can you meet me in town, then?"
"Why? Have you found something?"
"I need to see you, Maddie. Meet me in the park, under the trees past the basketball court."
"Dev, what have you found?"
"Not on the phone. How soon can you be here?"
"Give me thirty—no, twenty minutes."
"See you then."
Maddie hung up the phone, heart racing, and ran up the stairs to get ready.
* * *
Boone was headed north toward Morning Star, almost to the turnoff for the ranch, when he saw Maddie's car tear onto the highway without even stopping at the intersection.
Something was wrong. She was driving like a bat out of hell. Was someone hurt? Where was she going?
He was dog tired after long days of examining stock and trying to plan out a future. After long nights when he imagined what Maddie and Marlowe were doing at the ranch while he was gone.
A part of him protested that Maddie was not like Helen, that even Helen had never flaunted her affair. Another part of him dug in claws, reminding him that he had no claim on Maddie, that she and Marlowe were two of a kind. That he had no right to care what she did or didn't do in his absence.
He could have hit one more auction, but he'd done well at the ones he'd attended, buying stock to build a future, one whose emptiness he didn't want to consider.
Boone wasn't sure what was harder, being with Maddie or being without her. He missed her smile, her easy laughter. He missed the bright sparkle. He even missed her sass, damn it.
Seventeen days left before he'd have to miss her forever.
But memories reminded Boone of the furtive glances between her and Marlowe, the calls she'd hung up abruptly before he'd left. The unexplained absences, not that Maddie owed him any accounting for her whereabouts.
He had been an easy man to deceive once before. He knew that his desire for Maddie would make him an easy mark, once again.
Part of him said that Maddie was a big girl, that whatever reason she had for speeding north into town this afternoon was her own business. He was pulling a full trailer of stock behind his truck. He should turn off to the ranch.
But that wasn't the part to which Boone was listening. Maybe she was in trouble. He had to find out. He pressed down on the accelerator, knowing there wasn't a chance in hell that he could catch her, but if he was lucky, maybe he could keep her in sight. If not, Morning Star was plenty small. He would find her.
Texas Secrets (Texas Heroes) Page 13