“We don’t know that. She could have been a foster mother or something.” Britney fingered the envelope, contemplating what this new revelation meant. She flipped the envelope over. The return address was listed as Lullaby, Missouri. Britney’s heart fluttered as she realized the woman’s last name matched Brit’s own. Ethel Hart. Maybe the woman was a relative.
Yet the name was different than any she remembered their mother using. That didn’t mean much. Out of the six of them, only the twins shared a common last name.
Allie bounced on the bed. “She shares your last name, Brit. We have to find her. Maybe she’ll take us in.”
Britney wasn’t so sure. “From what Momma said, she never had anyone there for her. If she didn’t help Momma out, why would she help us?”
“Maybe she’s changed. Maybe Momma misunderstood. The note sounds—I don’t know—wistful? Maybe they had a falling out, and Momma ran off before it could be resolved.”
“That would certainly be a shock.” Brit’s sarcasm made Allie smile.
Allie hadn’t smiled in a long time. Brit made the decision then and there to make the trip to meet the woman who wrote the note. It might be a long shot, but if it put a spark back in Allie’s eyes, it was well worth the journey.
“Better get to sleep. Missouri will be a long day’s drive.”
“Seriously?” Allie’s eyes lit up. “We’re going after her? Oh Brit! Thank you!”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Al. It’s been a long time. I’m not sure what we’ll find on the other end.”
“That’s okay. We’re going on an adventure. As you always used to say, the treasure’s in the hunt.” She threw her arms around Britney and drew her into a breathtaking hug.
Britney hugged back and put on a good front for Allie, but in her heart she questioned God’s plan in all this. Her summer filled with sunny days at the beach had just slipped through her fingers, and the full weight of responsibility cloaked her spirit. The realization of what lay before her was heavy, but Brit had to have faith that God had a plan in all this.
God, when am I going to catch a break?
Britney knew they all needed an adventure. She only hoped the journey laid out before them would bring with it a happy ending.
Four
Matt stepped into the welcoming coolness of the Kut and Kurl hairdressing salon and watched as Ethel Hart leaned forward to peer at something in the mirror. So intent was she on whatever had drawn her attention that she didn’t seem to hear him enter. Her usual routine was to welcome him with a warm smile and arms outstretched for a quick hug, even if he’d just been in the previous day.
He leaned in close beside her and stared over her shoulder. “You’re looking mighty fine to me, Aunt Ethel. Every bit as beautiful as ever. Even if you are working on the Lord’s day.”
Ethel yelped and jumped a foot in the air before clutching her chest with a flattened hand. “Matthew Maxwell, you just about gave me a heart attack. I don’t care if you are an officer of the law. . . . What are you thinking sneaking up on a person like that?”
Matt smiled. “I didn’t sneak. I opened the door and walked straight through like I always do. The bells jangled and everything. Seems you were pretty intent on studying whatever was in that mirror, but whatever it is that has you so distracted, I want you to know that you look as pretty as ever to me.”
“Oh you!” She waved a hand at him. “Stop the flattery. If you must know, I had something in my eye. And as for my ‘working’ on a Sunday, I’m just meeting Ginny here so we can walk over to the diner together for lunch. ”
Matt frowned with concern. Ethel wasn’t really his aunt, but she’d watched out for him since he was a young motherless boy, and he felt it his duty to return the favor. She lived alone in a big house that overlooked the lake, and he worried about her. “Let me take a look at your eye. If I need to, I can run you over to see Doc. I’ll have him meet us at his office.”
She slapped his hand away. “Stop fussing, Matthew. I’m fine. I’m sure it was something in the air.”
“I don’t mind walking you over. Or you could hop on my bike, and I could give you a ride.” He grinned. He always offered to give her a ride, and she always found a way to change the subject. She didn’t like him riding a motorcycle and had made it clear many times. She wasn’t about to step foot on one unless she absolutely had to. And there’d only been a couple of times. Mostly the drive consisted of trips from his father’s home to hers. Secretly, for all her bellyaching and denial, he thought she enjoyed the rides.
“Oh yes, another ride on that death trap of a bike you own would certainly help my irritated eye.” Ethel stared him down. Her eyes grew calculating like she was seeing him for the first time in a while.
Matt figured he might have overstepped. Ethel didn’t like to be fussed over any more than he did. “Oh come on, you know you love my bike.”
“Matthew, I do believe it’s time for you to have a trim.” She picked up a pair of shears. She snapped them open and closed a few times and peered at him over her glasses. She studied him with the same intensity she’d given the offensive object that had landed in her eye. She waggled the scissors in his direction. “You sit yourself down in my chair, young man. Why, look at you. Your hair is long enough to brush against your collar! It adds to your bad-boy image, and that isn’t healthy. You’ve worked too hard to convince the old fogies around town that you’ve changed your ways since your wild teen years. And whatever will your father think if I let you walk around with that head full of hair?”
“Oh no you don’t.” Matt’s hands flew to his hair as he backed toward the door. He liked his hair just as it was. “You aren’t touching my hair.”
“Do you want people to make judgment calls on your image?”
“According to Pastor Gary’s sermon, people shouldn’t make judgment calls on my image or anyone else’s.”
Ethel sighed as he used their pastor against her. “True enough. But would it really hurt for you to let me tidy that mop up a bit?”
“Yes. It would.” Last time Ethel took the scissors to his hair, he’d come out looking like a fresh military recruit. It’d taken him the better part of a year to grow the dark locks back out to their present length.
“C’mon, Matthew, let me take off a few inches.”
“Huh-uh.” Matt knew he sounded more like an insolent child than he did an officer of the law. He reached behind him and sighed with relief as his hand made contact with the doorknob. “No way.”
Ethel sat the shears on the tabletop and rolled her eyes at his refusal. “One of these days a strand of that long hair is gonna blow into your eyes and cause you to ride that bike straight into a pole.”
“I’ll try my best to prove you wrong on that.”
“Make sure that you do.” She glanced past him, and her face lit up at something she saw out the window.
He twisted the knob. “You still cooking dinner for me tonight?”
“I am. Are you still bringing dessert?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m bringing something special.”
“Then I’ll see you at seven. Call if you get off work early.”
The door jingled as Aunt Ethel’s best friend Ginny entered the shop, practically bowling Matt down with her arrival.
“Oops, sorry, Matthew. I didn’t see you there. You should know better than to stand behind closed doors like that.”
Matthew cringed. It seemed he’d always be Matthew to his neighbor and her friends. The downside of being sheriff in the town where he grew up was that everyone knew him from before the position.
Ethel laughed and waved Ginny in.
Matt stepped outside to finish his shift. “I’ll call if something changes, but I’m sure I’ll get off at the usual time.”
“Can’t you stop by and eat while you’re on duty? Someone can call if you’re needed in town. It’s not like anything ever happens around here.”
“I know, but I need to be out and about, keepi
ng my presence known and the streets safe. Remember how I was as a teen? If I’d known my dad was anywhere but out and about on the job, I’d have had a heyday.”
“You had a heyday as it was most of the time, if my memory serves correct.”
“Unfortunately, your memory does serve correct.” Matt grinned at the women and closed the door behind him. They were already deep in conversation as he moved away from the door.
Matt stood on the sidewalk in front of the salon and surveyed Main Street with pride. Most of the men he’d trained with at the academy had moved on to more challenging positions in larger towns. But Matt had grown up here, the only child of a busy single dad, and he had no desire to leave. He had his father to watch out for—even if the older man didn’t realize he needed watching over—and he had Aunt Ethel. In addition, the citizens depended on him to keep them safe.
He stepped to the curb and stopped short of climbing on his bike as he scanned the area around him. The brick and stone buildings that flanked both sides of the street hadn’t changed much through the decades. The businesses that filled the walls hadn’t changed much either, and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Most businesses were still operated by their original owners or by one of their descendents. He knew all the locals by name and made it clear to newcomers that they were welcome as long as they stayed out of trouble. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone messing with the people he cared about. He ran a tight ship, but after his rebellious youth, where he’d pushed his boundaries and ran with the wrong crowd, he felt he had to. Each generation only seemed to grow tougher.
He picked up his helmet and placed it over his head, tucking his hair inside. He wasn’t about to let Ethel say “I told you so” when it came to the issue of his hair. He knew that while Ethel still thought of him as an innocent and hurting ten-year-old boy, the rest of the town saw him for the most part as the aloof bad boy he’d been through his teens. He grabbed the handlebars of his Harley, slipped his leg over the seat, and settled in. The engine roared to life. As far as Matt was concerned, he’d spend the rest of his life proving to his neighbors that they could trust him, just as they’d trusted his father when he’d held the same position.
Mavis Bentley heard Matt’s bike start up and hurried from the diner, waving to get his attention. “I’m so glad I caught you, dear. I made you a little something to hold you over until dinner. It’s warm from the oven. Don’t wait too long to eat it, ya hear?”
He secured the bag of food she handed him and gave her a quick wave. “I appreciate it, Mavis. Thanks.”
He smiled as he headed down toward the lakefront road. Mavis didn’t hide the fact that she’d set her sights on him as a future son-in-law. Problem was, Matt didn’t intend to settle down with anyone anytime soon.
His mother had cut out on him and his father years ago, and they’d done fine for themselves without adding a meddling woman to the mix. With Ethel living next door in the house just over the hill from them, they were content with things the way they were.
❧
Brit accelerated as they topped yet another large hill only to see nothing on the other side but more hills. “Are you sure you read the map right, Al? It seems like we should have arrived in Lullaby by now.”
“I know, but we did exactly as the map said. Remember the little fork in the road? We took the correct one, I’m sure. It shows it right here on the map.”
Brit sped down the other side, looking for a place to stop so she could take a peek.
She spied the broken remains of an asphalt parking lot and quickly swooped into the entrance. The last-minute turn caused the car to fishtail. She quickly applied the brakes and slid to a stop parallel to the road so she could swing right back out once they’d figured out where they needed to be. She’d had her fill of driving and wanted to reach their destination before it got dark. The old, abandoned gas station provided the perfect place for her to look at the map. Dust rose up to encase the car. She and Allie waved it away as it drifted in through the open windows.
Allie sneezed. “I can’t believe we’re lost. We’ve made it this far, just to end up in the middle of nowhere.” Frustration laced Allie’s words. “I followed the map exactly. I told you to turn where you were supposed to. I don’t get it.”
They’d made it to Memphis the night before and had awakened early to get a good start on the next leg of the journey. Brit had decided breaking the trip into two shorter segments would work best for the younger kids. They’d driven just over three hours during the morning and then had stopped at a roadside park to let Brady, Noelle, and Skye run off steam. They’d resumed the journey after a long picnic lunch.
Now it was late afternoon on a Sunday, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. The flat landscape had turned into the rolling hills of southwest Missouri about an hour earlier. Britney knew they were getting close to their destination, but they hadn’t seen a sign for Lullaby in the last half hour, and Allie was afraid she’d messed up and they’d taken a wrong turn.
“Here, let me take a peek.” Britney took the map from her sister and unfolded it, opening it all the way. After retracing the latest leg of their trip, she agreed that Allie had given her the correct directions. “Maybe we’ll find something over that next rise. Obviously we just need to keep going and see where the road leads.”
She tried to fold the map into a semblance of its former shape. The map looked like a wadded-up ball. She only needed to leave it open one section’s width for this final leg of the journey, but the paper wasn’t cooperating.
“Um, Brit?” Allie sounded nervous.
“Just a minute, Al. Let me figure out how to fold this confounded thing so I don’t lose our location. I don’t know why someone can’t find a better way to make these things.”
“But Brit—” Allie hissed, tapping her hard on the arm. “There’s a guy walking toward us, and he looks kind of rough.”
Britney whipped her head up as soon as Allie’s words sank in, but it was too late to put up the windows or make a hasty retreat. The man had almost reached the car. Brit dropped the map on her lap. Allie was right. The man—good looking in a rugged sort of way—did look rough. His long brown hair hung loose with curls that touched his neck. A well-worn brown leather jacket hugged his shoulders and tight black jeans encased strong legs.
“Where’d he come from?” Brit hadn’t thought to check the decrepit building for signs of life. She hadn’t expected to be there long, and the gas station was in the middle of nowhere. Judging from its style of gas pumps—the few that were left—and the level of decay, it hadn’t been used since sometime around the 1950s.
“He was up by the building sitting on a motorcycle, writing on some notepad,” Allie hissed as he neared their car. “I didn’t see him until just now when he stood up. He tucked his pad in his pocket and headed our way.”
“What is he, a poet or something?”
“I certainly don’t know. But he looks kind of big and brawny for that type.”
“Maybe he’s a body-building poet.” Britney always cracked jokes when she was nervous. And right now she felt really nervous.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he cautiously approached them.
“He’s worried we’ll do something to him?” Britney whispered.
“Is that a gun under his jacket?” Allie choked out.
Britney looked where she pointed. “Oh wow, I think it is. I’ve never seen a vagrant wearing something like that.”
Britney reached to roll up the window, but in her panic she hit the wrong button. The door unlocked with a loud click.
The man’s features softened with amusement.
“Evenin’, ladies,” he called out. He glanced down at the lock as he neared. When he was a dozen or so feet away, he stated, “For future reference, it might work better if you lock the door when a stranger approaches. Unlocking it would be considered a sign of greeting or welcome.”
Brit ignored him and jabbed continuously at the jammed window button
. The window finally began to rise, but with agonizing slowness. The roar of the dying window motor inside the door blared loudly. The window had always been slow, but as they all three stared, the seconds drew into what felt like an eternity. Finally the window was in place. Britney reached over and popped the door-lock button again. No one would get to the children on her watch. Britney smiled out the window as the vagrant shook his head.
With a sigh he walked around the car. Allie hurried to push her own automatic window button, but the man leaned in Allie’s open window, nudged aside Allie’s finger, and pushed the button to roll the window back down. “It’s also a good idea at a time like this to lock and secure all sides of a vehicle.”
The fresh scent of aftershave blew in on the breeze.
“Nice aftershave. I didn’t know vagrants wore stuff like that.” Allie had her own annoying habit when nervous, and that habit appeared to include blurting out stupid comments.
The man laughed and kept his right hand close to his weapon as he stared into the vehicle. “I’m not a vagrant.”
He reached across Allie to hand a piece of paper to Brit. Brit clasped it with two fingers.
“It’s also a good idea to keep your window up high enough that the stranger can’t get his arm inside the vehicle.”
Like Brit didn’t know that already. He’d watched her try to do just that, and he also knew exactly what had happened instead. Her face heated with irritation and embarrassment. She scowled at him while opening the folded piece of paper. “You wrote me a ticket for reckless driving?!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t properly introduce myself. Sheriff Matt Maxwell. You’ll need to appear in court to settle up the fines. I’ll need to see your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance so I can fill in the missing parts.”
“I’ve never seen an officer fill out a ticket for speeding or otherwise before he collects the paperwork. Are you sure you’re a cop?”
“You’ve seen a lot of traffic tickets then? You sound experienced at this. I’m afraid that might make it harder on you in court.” He pulled a badge from his belt and handed it to her. “And I’m a sheriff, not a cop.”
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