The breath escaped her. “Cal.”
Hazel-brown eyes shining, he shook his head. “I mean it. I’m ashamed of him.”
Delaney pressed her lips in a firm line and nodded. She understood. Cal Foster was a proud man, a respectable man. A decent human being. His brother was not.
“I have to do something,” Cal said.
“Hurry up, brother! Time’s a wasting,” Jack’s voice taunted.
Rage iced Cal’s compassionate gaze to arctic stone. Fixing on Delaney as if to retain a piece of his sanity, he said, “If you change your mind, you let me know.”
“Sure thing.” Glancing at Jack’s swollen face, she added, “But can you take him away from here? I can’t stand to look at him.”
Cal set his mouth in a stony line. With one last look at her, he turned, marched over to his brother and slammed a fist across his jaw. Jack reeled. “That one’s from me.”
Troy grinned.
Jack came back at him and Cal thrust his chest forward, cocking a fist in a show of force Delaney didn’t think him capable of. Cal had grown into a quiet, peaceful man with no resemblance of the bluster and brawn of his younger days. “Go ahead and give me a reason to beat the crap out of you.”
Apparently sensing there was more to his meeker brother than met the eye, Jack held back. He wrenched his face and spat, “You aren’t worth the effort.”
Troy stood waiting and ready. If Jack hit Cal, it was clear Troy would welcome another round with him. Delaney dropped her head back against the wall. He would have beaten the man to a bloody pulp and left him to die. Visions of Jack’s attack assaulted her mind—hand, nails, digging—it was the last thing she expected. The man was unpredictable, yes, but a rapist?
Her daughter came to mind, the reason for this visit, and Delaney cringed. If Felicity knew what had transpired this evening, it would crush her, destroy her. She already believed he was a monster. Believed her mother was one, too.
Overwhelmed by a heavy sadness, Delaney closed her eyes, warding off images to painful to allow. Felicity hated her, might never forgive her. Nick’s image steamrolled into her thoughts and she groaned. She hadn’t been worried about handling Jack but Nick had been. Don’t confront Jack about Felicity. At least she’d kept to her word. He confronted her, not the other way around. But still...
She had believed she could handle him. Visions of Jack at the other end of her barrel recharged her nerves. She’d been prepared to shoot. Sure as she was sitting here, she would have shot him. Did, or so she’d thought.
I heard enough to know he would have got what was coming to him.
How long had Troy been lurking in the shadows? How much had he seen?
Shame slinked through her. Troy was a good kid. He was doing his best to make up for his past mistakes. Witnessing the ugliness between her and Jack was the last thing he needed. While the boy was good at heart, he had a grenade of a temper. Short-fused, it didn’t take much to set him off.
Invariably, it seemed to be his temper that landed him in trouble. Thank God she didn’t shoot him by mistake.
Chapter Sixteen
After refusing escort to her cabin, Delaney hiked the steep incline alone in the dark. No flashlight was needed this evening, not with a nearly full moon floating in the sky overhead. Leaves and trunks were cast in a pale glow, the ground dark and narrow beneath her feet. Katydids pulsated rhythmically in the night, her skin chilled by the moist damp air. Placing a hand to the knotty bark of a tree, she stepped from rock to rock, then pushed off from a massive root embedded in the clay. She knew the way by heart. Every stone, every branch—she could hike this path with her eyes closed. Tonight she wanted to do just that, close her eyes and shut the world away. Immerse herself in the comfort of the familiar, the safety of these woods, her cabin sanctuary above.
As the shock wore off, the reality of what happened trickled in. She’d been shaken by the incident more than she realized. More than almost killing her ex-husband—a thought that unsettled her—his outrageous behavior disturbed her. Could he attack Felicity? Was he unstable enough to attack his own daughter? It was too horrible a thought to consider. She and Jack had their issues, but Delaney always believed he drew the line at Felicity. After tonight, Delaney wasn’t certain whether that line was eternally blurred.
Reaching the top, she paused. Boulders were pillows of gray, the gravelly road a sheet of silver carpet leading up to her home. She’d taken her time climbing up, yet she was winded, her energy drained from the ordeal with Jack. After a few moments she pushed herself forward, recovering her breath as she walked the gentle incline to her cabin. Inside, the lights were on. A brief hope bloomed. Felicity’s car was parked down in the lot, but it didn’t mean she was home. She could be with Travis. Grabbing the stair railing, Delaney hauled herself up the few steps, opened the screen door and strode to the front door, peering inside as she passed. Inside, Felicity was seated on the couch reading a book. A decisive misgiving twisted in her gut. Delaney knew she should keep the evening to herself, but couldn’t shake the words from last night.
You’re as big a monster as he is. How could you do that to me? Where was the overprotective mother when I needed her? Felicity had been angry, hurling insults as hard and fast as she could. Delaney wasn’t a monster for keeping the truth from her. Funneling her line of vision on the lone strawberry-blonde head, she wondered, Was I?
Tugging the boots from her feet, Delaney transferred the pistol to her waistband and opened the door. Felicity’s head jerked at the sound. Instantly she rose from the couch, circled the end and headed for the stairs. She wouldn’t even look her mother in the eye.
“Felicity, wait.” Delaney reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “Stop, I need to talk to you.”
Flames licked at Felicity’s green eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I almost shot your father.” The words spurted from her lips before she could rein them in.
“What?”
In the space of a second, Delaney realized she had to tell her. She had to tell Felicity what happened. It would eventually get out anyway and if she learned the truth from someone else, Delaney’s fate as liar and truth-withholder would be sealed. “He came by the stables. He accused me of turning you away from him.”
Felicity slackened within her grasp. No longer angry, she stood gripped by confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Heaving a sigh, she dropped her hand. “He thinks I’m the reason you’re not returning his calls.”
She screwed her expression. “You have nothing to do with that.”
Relief swept through Delaney. “I know. But he was angry. He had to blame someone and that someone was me.”
A sudden fear bridled in her eyes. “Did he hit you?” Studying her face as though seeing her for the first time, Felicity stared at her mother, hard. “Did he? Did he hit you again?”
“No.” Delaney felt the weight of the evening press squarely on her shoulders. “But it wasn’t pretty.” Cradling her daughter in her gaze, hating what she was about to tell her but knowing there was no way around it, Delaney bolstered her resolve with Nick’s advice. Don’t sell your daughter short. Felicity is made of strong fiber. Yes. Yes, she was. “Come,” Delaney murmured. “I’ll tell you everything.”
She plodded to the couch, dropped to a seat and watched as her daughter follow, sitting on the opposite end. She was near but not too close. Because Felicity remained at odds. Taking a deep breath, Delaney began, “Jack”—she refused to grant him the privileged term of father—“came by the stables to make trouble. He was angry and drunk. He accused me of filling your head with poison, then he jumped me.” It was an ugly picture she was painting, but an honest one. “He was drunk and unstable so I was able to get away from him, but he didn’t give up. I pulled my gun, warned him to back off.” She paused, tormented by the horror wrenching the fine features of Felicity’s face. “He drew a gun. I pulled the trigger but I didn’t hit him.”
&nb
sp; Luckily. Delaney inhaled, calming a spurt of adrenaline, and continued, “Troy jumped Jack and sent him to the ground.”
“Troy?”
She nodded. “He must have been working late. He heard the commotion and took action.” Delaney was indebted to him for it. He saved her from making the biggest mistake of her life. Compounding Jack’s abuse with his untimely death at the hands of her mother would only have made things worse for Felicity. “Troy called Cal. Cal came and removed his brother from the property.”
Felicity absorbed the information in silence. Digesting it, turning it over in her mind, her heart, Delaney understood her daughter was working to cope with yet another ugly facet to her father. Delaney felt responsible, regretting the day she married the man yet accepting that it was another time, another place. A place she couldn’t return to, a decision she couldn’t change. Wouldn’t, if given the chance. After all, she thought. Felicity was the product of their union.
Felicity was her treasure.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart. If you’ll listen, that’s all I ask.” At the silent consent in Felicity’s eyes, Delaney took the first step, crossing the chasm that had opened between them, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the divorce, the reason for the divorce. But you were young, an innocent.” Delaney recalled the freckle-faced girl of eight, the shining strawberry-blonde curls, the bright-eyed innocence. “Ernie said we could stay in the cabin.” It was a fight at first, but because Felicity reminded him of Susannah, he had agreed.
“Ernie took to you like a bear on honey, inviting you to visit him and Albert any time you wanted.” A smile tugged at Delaney. “You thought it was an adventure. You were excited by the prospect of living in Grandma’s tree house. That’s what you called it. Her tree house.” Delaney pulled a foot onto the couch cushion and tucked it beneath her. This wasn’t a conversation she ever wanted to have, but now that she was, she was grateful for the chance to remember the good, heal the bad. For both of them. “At the time, I told you Daddy had to go out of town for a while so we were going to live at Grandma’s until he returned. Weeks passed and I eventually told you that we weren’t going back, that Daddy and I were getting a divorce.” Her heart ached at the memory. “Do you remember any of it?”
Felicity shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes.
“As you grew older, you were so smart, so wise. I always thought you were wise beyond your years. Part of me knew you could handle the truth, but a bigger part knew it would hurt. Jack used to call and promise you things and when he didn’t deliver, you were crushed. I could tell you were still hoping for his return. So I let things lie. Someday, I told myself, we’d discuss it. But truth was, I didn’t want to ruin the little life we had created. When you took up the flute, I think Ernie thought he’d died and gone to heaven, thanked God for the first time in his life.” Delaney paused. “Do you understand what those evenings meant to him?”
She tilted her head. “I think so.”
It was but a whisper, but the first crack in her daughter’s shell. Delaney yearned for the shell to split wide open. Brushing hair behind an ear, she continued, “It meant the world to him. He adored hearing you play, sharing in your enthusiasm. You reminded him of my mother.” Felicity smiled. Ever so slightly, but it was there. “My mom was the sugar in his tea, the butter on his bread. She made everything in his life better, sweeter.”
Truth be known, Susannah made Ernie’s life worth living. When she died, Delaney swore she took a piece of Ernie with her. It was one of the reasons Delaney had tolerated his verbal abuse. He’d been hurting something fierce, and living with Albert didn’t help. The man did little more than warm the seat of rocking chair when he wasn’t swiping the pantry shelves clean. He proved no comfort to Ernie and vice versa. Looking back, Delaney thought it a miserable existence the two men shared. Breathing in deeply, she released her breath in a ragged stream. “As the years passed, we settled into a routine. You were my world, my everything. Life rose and set with you. I watched over you like a hawk.”
Where was the overprotective mother when I needed her? The accusation rose like bile. It was true. She’d gone against her better judgment and allowed her daughter to go with Jack.
“Whenever I thought about telling you,” Delaney paused, “I thought about how it would spoil your innocence, hurt you. It was an ugly business between Jack and me, not the kind of thing a girl wants to hear about her father, even if he was only in your life on the sporadic occasion. In the rare event he sent a card or called, you were thrilled. You lived and breathed him for days.”
The tears filling her daughter’s eyes pulled her back to those days when Felicity literally ran through the cabin, singing and dancing. “I couldn’t ruin that for you. I couldn’t take away the only joy you had with regard to him.”
Felicity’s face was filled with pain. Tears flowed freely, unleashing her sadness. Staring at her, Delaney always knew this is what the truth would do. This is what telling her daughter would have done all those years ago. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. If I was wrong, I’m sorry. So terribly sorry.”
Felicity’s gaze shot to the side, her cheeks flushed red with emotion. She hugged her arms to her body and shook her head. “No, it’s me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come down on you like that without knowing...without...” Her voice broke.
Delaney’s heart ached at the sight of her daughter. Felicity was drowning, struggling to wrap her head around a sordid past of lies and deceit she couldn’t comprehend. She was mature, but she was young, idealistic. Her dreams were still firmly attached to the clouds.
It was a flight reality had a way of sinking. “You were angry, sweetheart. You didn’t know the history. Which is my fault.” Delaney wanted to ask who told Felicity, wanted to know what awful person thought it wise to share the information but refrained. It didn’t matter. The damage had been done. “If I could take it back and do it all over again, I would. I would have found a way to tell you, to share the truth with you.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“It’s true. Nick was right.”
“Nick?”
Delaney smiled, inundated by a stream of warm pleasurable thoughts. “He thinks you’re a strong young woman. He thinks I should have told you, that you could have handled the truth.”
“You told him?”
She nodded. She told Nick everything. Twisting the ring on her finger, she mused, why wouldn’t she? He was her husband. There was nothing she would keep from him. It was the way a real partnership was supposed to work. A marriage. Something she and Jack had in name only. “He thinks you’re amazing and he’s right.” She grinned. “You are. Totally.”
Felicity erupted into a giggle and rolled her eyes. “Mom.”
It was the first hint of the old Felicity, her baby, her girl. Young woman, Delaney corrected. Felicity was growing into an incredibly bright young woman, and her mother needed to start treating her that way. “It’s true. You are amazing.”
Felicity scooted near and Delaney’s heart ripped open. As she reached out for her, joy gushed from Delaney’s soul as she welcomed her daughter back into her arms. “Oh, Felicity.” Squeezing tight, Delaney relished the warmth of her child, the familiar scent of her. This is what living was about. This is what mattered.
Holding on, locked as one, there was no place Delaney would rather be than right here.
Chapter Seventeen
“Now that Troy knows about the baby, do you think his family history will have a bearing on Casey’s pregnancy?” Annie asked.
All morning long she’d been running through the possibilities, hardly able to concentrate on her clientele. Several times she caught herself mid-swipe on a finger nail she’d already done! It was crazy, but she was consumed. Concerned. Casey had told Troy about the baby, and Annie couldn’t help but think there was a connection. At her first break, she deci
ded to seek the counsel of her husband. Cal was smart about most things. Maybe he’d have an idea.
“Not sure that a man’s contribution comes until after the baby is born,” he replied, one eye on her, the other on the goings-on in the hotel lobby. Situated to one end of the front desk, tucked close to the backdrop wall of river rock, Annie didn’t mind his divided attention. She was so proud of Cal and the way he was managing the hotel. In the salon most guests didn’t realize he was her husband, and she’d overhear them rave about him while sitting for their manicures.
“From what I’ve been reading online, it’s possible Troy’s genetics can play a role. What do you think? Should I get Casey to ask him to see the doctor?”
Cal smiled indulgently. Today’s heather-green button-down complemented the light brown of his hair, enhanced the sensitivity in his eyes, softened the lines of his clean-shaven face. “I think we should let the doctor decide if and when he’s concerned.”
“Aren’t you the least bit concerned?”
“It’s like I told you before. Women have been doing this for years.” He pulled her close, a drift of his crisp cologne tickling her desire for him. “Now why don’t you tell me why you’re as worried as a first-time momma? Is there something I don’t know?”
Annie peered up at him. Was he right? Was she being overly concerned? Before she could reply, Cal stiffened within her grasp. “What?” She turned and recoiled. Jack Foster strolled into the hotel lobby boasting a bruised and swollen face. Horribly out of place next to the cheering splash of fountain, the atmosphere of peaceful retreat, he drew stares from a few nearby guests. “What happened to him?”
Cal leveled his gaze. “It’s something I was going to mention to you.”
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