“Nothing owing, Nita. That’s what friends are for.”
Lane broke the connection and took a second to gather himself. Just a short trip. He and Daisy would just have to put their issues aside for the morning. He stared out the window of his small kitchen. His sleep had been punctuated by the constant drumming of the rain, but the day had dawned clear and the sun shone right through onto his kitchen table. A perfectly ordinary summer day, on the surface. He wondered about the chances of a perfect storm of sickness, transportation issues, and deadlines. If it wasn’t so improbable, he would accuse someone of plotting.
As it was, he’d just pray that the day went smoothly from this point onward. Lane grabbed his dishes and headed for the sink, trying not to remember the last time they’d been together. Her tears, the warmth of her body against him, and then her expression when he’d mentioned Rocky. It was enough to make a grown man beg for mercy.
He scrubbed off his plate and laid it in the dish rack to dry. Whatever had happened between them, they needed to work together. If she really cared about the library, it wouldn’t be a problem to take a day trip to Denver, even with a guy she couldn’t stand.
After the fastest shower on record, he gave his reflection a quick survey. Shaved, showered, and ready to rumble. Well, not exactly rumble. Ready to run to Denver and buy toys for kids while trying his best not to argue with the pretty new summer librarian. He let out a sigh. What were the chances they could get through the day without a fight? Slim to none, most likely.
Grabbing his keys, he opened the back door to let Sammy into the yard. The golden retriever gave him a look of reproach and set his body solidly in the doorway. “Sorry, boy. No can do. I’ve got a passenger today and she may not appreciate your dog breath along for the trip.”
Sammy hung his head and sloped out of the door, tail motionless. Lane sighed at the sight. They were a team and now he was dumping his best buddy for a girl. If only Sammy could understand, in his loyal dog brain, that it wasn’t that kind of road trip.
***
The space between the moment Lane knocked and the moment Daisy opened the front door of the cabin seemed to last for eons. His heart was beating double time and he could feel heat at the back of his neck. Please, Lord, let her understand.
She swung the door open, taking a few seconds to give him a once-over. Glad to be out of uniform and freshly shaved, but maybe he should have worn something a bit nicer than a button up shirt and jeans. She made a summer dress and a light sweater look perfect.
“Hi?”
He cleared his throat. “Nita’s sick. She called and asked me to take you to Denver. She gave me the list of prizes and the money from the library fund.” Aiming for confident, the words came out clipped, authoritative.
There was a long pause as emotions passed over Daisy’s face. Surprise, irritation, something else he couldn’t define. “You’d think she’d call here first.”
“To tell you she was sick? And then call me, and then call you back? I agree it’s not the smoothest plan but I promise I’m not trying to kidnap you. ”
That brought a deep-down laugh out of her and the sound warmed the frosty area near his heart, the place that wished she would just get in the truck without arguing every step of the way.
“Let me grab my purse.” Daisy went back inside, calling from the living room. “Did you bring Sam?”
“No, left him in the yard. He loves the truck but he’d have to get inside the cab when we parked.”
He could see her through the doorway, wandering from the living room to the kitchen. “Does he shed?”
“I wish that was it. He chews. Pretty much everything, including seats.”
She came back to the living room, scowling. “I can’t find my purse. I put it right there, and then my friend Ana called. I put the phone back in my purse and then I went to the bedroom.” She shook her head. “You better come in, this might take me awhile.”
He stepped inside, inhaling the smell of fresh coffee. “Tell me your number and let me call you.”
“You’re pretty quick for this early in the morning.”
He snorted, pulling out his phone. She dictated the numbers and they stood, waiting, until the faint chords of an incoming call sounded. “Aha.”
Reaching under the end table near the couch, she held up a little black purse.
Lane snapped closed his phone and saluted. “To protect and serve and find lost purses.”
“Glad that’s in your job description.” She grinned and took one last look around. “I think I’m ready, finally.”
“Good. And I like the quilt in here.” He motioned to where she had hung Marie’s quilt, above the couch. It went perfectly with the oak bookshelves his grandfather had made. The leather and cloth bound covers, paired with Marie’s quilt, gave the living room the feel of a bibliophile’s paradise.
“I would have left it at the library, but the window was leaking.” Daisy paused, her smile sliding from her face.
“Did you get the leak fixed? I can come over this afternoon when we get back to town. Maybe it’s just the seal.”
She shot him a glance. “Thank you, but Chet already took care of it.” Her eyes seemed to soften a bit. “But I’ll be sure to let you know if there are some other leaks you can plug.”
If she was being honest, that was a big step from the girl who determined to never ask him for help. His lips lifted in a smile, wondering if they weren’t so far from being friends as he thought.
“I’m glad I took it down,” she said. Her tone was soft, hesitant.
“It’s a work of art and needs to be protected.”
“She had pinned a letter to the back.”
He didn’t hide his surprise. Mrs. Lindo had been sure there was a secret inheritance. Maybe she was right for once.
“It was a letter from her to me.” The look in her eyes shook him to the core. Pain, happiness, gratitude.
What he wouldn’t give to read a letter from Colt. “What a gift.”
She nodded, gaze down. “She left me a few boxes of books in the supply cabinet, for the festival, but most of it was just… advice.” She didn’t offer more, and he couldn’t ask. The moment stretched long.
“We should go. I need to open the library this afternoon.”
He turned, waiting on the porch for her to lock the door. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to read a letter like that. And it never would have been found unless she’d taken down the quilt. Marie had expected her to take it home with her to Fresno, not stay here in Liberty. His heart squeezed in his chest. Marie knew better than anybody that Daisy didn’t belong here, didn’t want to spend her future in this town.
He shouldn’t be surprised at that, everyone knows it but the way his stomach had dropped into his feet said he was still in denial.
***
The flirty little blue sundress and strappy heels was a really bad idea. Daisy gritted her teeth and shouldered her small purse. With Nita driving, the trip could have been fun. A trip jaunt Denver on a summer mid-morning, with Friday casual the rule of the day. But now all she could think of was how pale she’d turned since leaving Fresno. Her California tan had faded, highlights muted, and her nails were chipped. City girls sure spent a lot more time on their appearances and she’d done the same just to keep up. Here, in Liberty, she’d gone with the minimum. Just her luck she’d be spending the morning with Mr. Effortlessly Handsome.
He held open the door of the old red Ford pickup, dark hair ruffling a bit in the breeze, looking like an advertisement for a country living magazine. She sighed. Nita’s car was low to the ground. This truck was a good two feet from the gravel driveway. There was no graceful way to crawl up in the cab. Daisy grabbed the handle and prepared to heave herself forward, hoping she could keep her little dress at knee level. Or thigh level, at the very least.
“Turn around and back in.”
She shot him a glare. “Funny.”
“I’m serious. You don’t jump
in with an outfit like that. I’ll get an eyeful.” His mouth twitched with laughter.
She let the comment slide and turned around, setting herself on the seat and swinging her legs in after, knees together. It was almost graceful, elegant. She allowed herself a small smile. “You should teach classes on this. Lots of girls would pay for the inside information.”
He snorted. Shutting the door behind her, he crossed to the driver’s side and angled in. “My last girlfriend hardly ever wore pants. I watched her pull that move a hundred times. You can thank her.”
Daisy kept her smile in place but felt a strange contraction near her heart. So she was sitting where the ex had sat a hundred times? Not a happy thought. And then she gave herself a mental kick. It didn’t matter to her who had sat on this seat. One ex or fifty, it didn’t make any difference. Pulling the seatbelt tight, she focused on admiring the pristine interior. A lot of work had gone into this truck. Classic. Small town men and their trucks had legendary friendships.
“You two keep in touch?”
He glanced at her as he started down the driveway, adjusting his seatbelt. “Sort of. Her parents live in Liberty so she comes back pretty often.”
“So, what happened?” Daisy watched his eyebrows shoot up. She had no idea why she was picking at Lane’s past. Maybe she wanted to show she wasn’t afraid of girlfriend talk. Maybe she hated small talk. Deep down, if she was honest, she was mostly dead curious. What kind of woman would walk away from a man like Lane?
“It’s complicated.”
Daisy waved a hand. “I hate that phrase. What does it even mean? Mostly it means that the person doesn’t want to tell you.”
He looked at her, full on, blue eyes assessing. He seemed to be gauging her seriousness. He checked both ways before pulling onto the main road through Liberty. He was silent for a moment, as they passed neatly kept houses. A dark-haired woman looked up from weeding her front walk and waved. A cat stepped off the curb and watched them pass.
“You’re right.”
Well, that was clear enough. At least he admitted he didn’t want to tell her. Daisy looked out the window, watching her childhood neighborhood pass by. This place was full of secrets, but it wouldn’t be full of lies if she could help it.
“I don’t know if the story would be helpful to your stay here.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “What does it have to do with me?”
The muscles in his jaw moved and his hands gripped the steering wheel. “Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.”
“Very cryptic. Now you have to tell me. Did you two bury a body in the old library?”
That startled a laugh out of him. The road leading out of Liberty widened to a four lane rural highway. Half an hour and they’d be entering the Mile High City. He’d have plenty of time to tell her the whole story.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“At the exciting part, obviously.” She crossed her legs and settled in. This should be good.
He threw her one last look. “I got a call about a disorderly drunk on Poplar Street.”
Daisy felt her smile freeze. Disorderly drunk. There was only one of those in Liberty.
“I went down to Jack’s Brewery and got ready to take him down the station, like I had at least twenty times before.”
She turned her head to the window, watching the pine trees fly past. She didn’t care anymore what the ex-girlfriend had done or said. She didn’t want to hear the story now.
“Maybe because I knew he was pretty harmless, or because I’d done it before, I got lazy.”
Daisy closed her eyes, wanting to shut out the words. She could feel the hum of the highway through the floorboards.
“A friend from high school was there in the parking lot and he called me over to talk. I’d already sat Rocky on the back seat, but didn’t close the door. He was calm by then, quiet.” Lane’s voice sounded tired, exhausted with telling the story or remembering the details.
“I walked over for just a second. The keys were in the car. Next thing I knew, he was driving by me, right out of the lot.”
Daisy kept silent, in agony, hoping the story ended well. Unable to ask if it did. Wouldn’t she have heard the gossip if there had been a crash, or even worse, a fatality? But she’d always been out of the loop. People whispered and gossiped behind her back, never to her face. Please, Lord, don’t let this end with someone hurt.
“Once we got him stopped, a lot of people thought it was pretty funny.”
She felt bile rising in her throat. A drunk driving any vehicle was the very opposite of funny.
“The department didn’t think so. I was officially reprimanded and lost a promotion.” She could see the shame heating his cheeks. Daisy knew that shame, had felt it a thousand times in her childhood. All because of that same drunk. Her stomach twisted.
“How can you be friends with him?”
He glanced at her, surprised. Whatever he thought she was going to say, it wasn’t that. He hit the turn signal and switched lanes before he replied. “It was a changing point. He started going to AA, made a commitment to get sober.”
“Glad to hear it made an impression.” She didn’t bother to sound sincere.
“I’m not saying I understand why it made a difference to him, or excusing the years he wasted, but that’s what happened.”
“And the girlfriend?”
“Was counting on the promotion more than I was, I guess.” His face was tight, gaze locked on the road. “So she said.”
“You don’t believe her.” She didn’t, either. How much more money was in a simple promotion for a small-town officer? She’d have to be pretty mercenary to be counting on his salary before they were even engaged.
“I think it was the fact I was suddenly Liberty’s funniest cop, the butt of every joke, the story everyone embellished over dinner.”
“Oh.” Now that she could understand. Her entire life in Liberty had been one long gossip fest for the locals. She would never forget the whispers, the sly looks, the giggles. The ex-girlfriend seemed a lot more reasonable now. She watched the trees pass for a while, the summer sky bright with sunshine.
“So, how did you and Rocky become friends? You must have been pretty angry with him.”
A smile played over his lips. “Not really. I was mad at myself for being stupid. When he reached the AA step about making amends, I accepted his apology.”
Daisy felt the sentence hang in the air, humming with unspoken words. She hadn’t accepted Rocky’s apology. She sent all his letters back unopened. Lately, avoiding him and every chance of seeing him, had been her second part time job.
Lane continued, speaking softly. “As a Christian it was the right thing to do. As a man who carried some fault in the whole disaster, it was the just thing to apologize in return.”
She felt the conviction heavy against her heart. Of course God would always forgive her, that was His promise. And she was refusing to give that gift to someone else. Forcing away the familiar guilt at the situation, Daisy tried to get the conversation back on track.
“Do you think Tara will ever change her mind?” A few moments after speaking, she felt her face go hot. He hadn’t said what his ex’s name was.
He shrugged, not seeming to notice the slip. “Maybe. I don’t think I’d be open to another round. She was a nice girl, great family, sweet personality.”
She flinched inwardly. Lane’s list of perfect attributes for a woman and two out of three weren’t anything she could claim. Nice girl, sure. But sweet wasn’t her strong point and her family was a joke.
“But not everything that is broken can be mended.” He looked over at her, gaze serious. “Marie told me that once.”
“True.” Daisy looked up at the sky, thoughts far away. “Trust is one.”
“Right, faith in someone isn’t a thing that can be patched together.”
“Or broken hearts.” She wasn’t sure what had made her say it, not having had her heart broken before.
He frowned out at the highway. “I felt pretty broken-hearted when I got dumped. Not sure if all heartbreak is the same, but mine is healed.” He paused. “Mostly.”
She felt her stomach drop a little. The handsome, faithful man beside her just admitted her was still in love with his ex. It shouldn’t matter at all, but it did and she hated herself for it.
Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle. “That sounds like a plea for sympathy. What I meant is that I’m over it, but I’m not the same person I was.” He glanced over. “If that makes sense.”
She nodded, feeling the ache in her chest ease. “It does, actually. It’s mended but scarred.”
“Hm. Sounds dramatic.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “How about patched?”
“Like a pair of pants?” The conversation was getting weirder by the moment but Daisy didn’t want to let go.
He snorted. “My heart is a pair of old pants? That’s a visual for you.” His tone turned thoughtful. “How about like a quilt. Marie had to cut all sorts of scraps to make her masterpiece. God is making his own work of art, here. Patch by patch.” He tapped his chest.
“Nice.” It was all she could say past the lump in her throat. His analogy would have been over-the-top corny if not for the grin he wore. He meant what he said, but the fact they were discussing the state of his heart wasn’t lost on him. It was silly and awkward and touched Daisy in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He spoke of forgiveness and grace like a man who refused to let someone else’s actions determine his life course.
“Marie had a lot to say about the whole situation. It kept me from wallowing in my sorrow.” That same self-deprecating smile punctuated his words.
“She never gave me much love life advice.” Now that she thought about it, that was one thing Marie didn’t hold forth on in their long conversations.
“Maybe it was because her husband left her. She knew what I was feeling.”
Daisy felt the air shift around her, as if the universe had tilted. She stared at Lane, looking for some sign he was joking. “She wasn’t married.”
He nodded. “She was, once. They were both really young. It sounded like it was arranged by their families and after a year, he decided he didn’t want to be married anymore. Divorce was a huge scandal back then. Maybe she moved west to get away from the talk.”
Leaving Liberty Page 10