by Sherry Lewis
“I don’t know anything else,” Clay said evenly. “We transported her to the hospital in Jackson. When they released her, Frank took Molly away. We figured it was so she could be near family, but we never knew for sure.”
“You should have found out.”
“Why? There was no evidence of foul play. We had no reason to question him, and he didn’t want anything to do with any of us after that night.” Clay pulled out two fresh cans and handed one to Beau. “We’re never going to know what happened between those two, Beau. The truth died with Frank, and Molly’s going to have to accept that. He was so protective of her the chief didn’t even tell Hannah down at the paper about Molly being in the car. He thought it was best.”
Beau shoved away from the table and paced in front of the window for a long time, trying to accept the story himself. But he couldn’t swallow it, and he knew Molly never would. He wheeled back to face Clay once more. “What did they argue about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit! You were there. You heard them. Don’t lie to me, Clay. This is too important.”
His uncle took his sweet time popping the top on his can and taking a seat at the kitchen table. Only habit and respect kept Beau from grabbing him by the collar and demanding the truth from him. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he planted his fists on the table and glared at Clay. “Tell me.”
Clay looked him square in the eye. “Frank and Ruby are both dead, Beau. Let ’em rest in peace.”
“And what about Molly?”
“You really think finding out what tore her parents apart is going to help her?”
“What right do you have to hide the truth from her?”
“Asking questions isn’t going to help her, Beau. Trust me. You think she’s torn up right now, just wait.”
“So you do know.” Beau raked his fingers through his hair, agitated and confused. “Tell me what it is so I can help her.”
“I don’t know anything for sure,” Clay said. “I have bits and pieces of conversations and arguments, and I have a few suspicions I’ve never voiced aloud to another living soul. But if you think I’m going to tell you what they are, you’re crazy.” He gestured toward the door with his can. “You saw how she acted when she thought her mother had walked out on her. I’m not feeding any more maybes into that head of hers.”
“Well, you can’t just leave her like this. It’s not fair.” Beau paced to the far end of the kitchen, but his nerves felt as if they were on fire, and he’d just about reached the end of his patience. “You’ve always been fair, Clay. As fair as a man can be, anyway. So why are you doing this now?”
Clay let out a sigh and pushed his can away. “Why do you care so much, Beau? Why can’t you just let it be?”
“Because this is eating her up alive. Can’t you see that?”
“Sure I can, but speculating and making up stories, digging up things that are better left alone could be even worse. What I want to know is, what’s she to you?”
“She’s a friend. I told you that on the phone.”
“I know you did.” Clay hooked one arm over the back of his chair. “Can’t say as I believe you, though. Seems to me you’re smitten, and if you won’t admit it, you’re either lying to me or you’re lying to yourself.”
“What I feel or don’t feel isn’t the issue!” Beau shouted. “Dammit, Uncle Clay, quit trying to change the subject, and just tell me what you know about Frank and Ruby’s divorce.”
For a minute that felt like an hour, Clay sat perfectly still, considering Beau’s demands. Beau had always admired the way his uncle never spoke without thinking, but today it made him want to hit something. “All I know,” he said at last, “is that Frank found out something Ruby didn’t want him to know. Whatever it was, he changed into a whole different person because of it. Like I said before, I didn’t know him to socialize with, but he was one of those guys everybody likes. Lots of friends. Always smiling. I don’t know what Ruby was hiding, but that friendly guy disappeared the day Frank found out about it.”
“And they never said anything in front of you that would give you a clue?”
Clay ran a finger along the table’s edge. “They said a few things in front of me, but nothing I could get a firm handle on. They might have been at each other’s throats, but they were mighty careful about what they said once we got there. It’s been a long time since then, Beau. Too much water under the bridge. Too many other things I’ve heard and forgotten. I wouldn’t know how to separate what I heard from what I made up.”
Everything inside Beau rebelled at his helplessness. “So nobody knows what really happened?”
“I didn’t say that.” Clay stood again and fixed him with a look. “There’s one person who does, and I reckon she’ll remember when she’s ready. If she doesn’t, then maybe that’s for the best, too.”
A WEEK LATER, Beau drained the last of his soda from lunch at the Burger Shack, tossed a handful of uneaten fries onto the orange plastic tray on the table in front of him and checked his watch for the twentieth time in as many minutes.
“It’s only two,” Aaron said from across the table. “Would you relax? Harvey said he might be a few minutes late.”
Relax? Beau had been on pins and needles since that day in Clay’s kitchen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of these days, Molly was going to remember what happened between her parents, and he didn’t know how she would react.
At least the two of them had reached a truce of sorts, but they still hadn’t gone back to the easy way things had been between them in the beginning. He’d tried half a dozen times to talk to her alone, but she inevitably found some excuse to avoid him. Oh, she said things were fine between them, and she’d accepted his offer to stay in the cabin even though there was space at the motel now. She claimed to have forgotten why she was angry with him in the first place. But things weren’t fine, and Beau cared a whole lot more than he should have.
To make matters worse, Mayor Biggs was still dragging his feet on finding a replacement for Beau on the WinterFest committee, and everyone—even his own mother—had an opinion about his efforts to resign.
When he realized Aaron was looking at him strangely, he tugged his sleeve down over his watch and leaned back in the booth. “I’m just wondering if we’ve missed Harvey, that’s all. I could belt him for making us negotiate the use of that field for WinterFest parking. We’ve used it for ten years without trouble. What the hell is wrong with him?”
Aaron snorted a laugh and dumped sugar into his second cup of coffee. “Forget Harvey. What’s wrong with you?”
“With me? Nothing.” He could hear the harsh edge to his voice, so he tossed off a smile. “Really. I’m fine.”
“Really.” Aaron dabbed a finger into his coffee, checked the sugar content thoughtfully and tore open a package of creamer. “What is it? The kids? Work? Doris?” He stirred his coffee for a minute, then looked up at Beau with one raised eyebrow. “Molly?”
Beau tried to laugh off the question, but it was a useless effort. That annoying eyebrow of Aaron’s winged a little higher, and he knew he’d never be able to pull off a convincing lie. “Okay, you’re right. It’s Molly. I’m worried about her.”
Aaron’s eyebrow dropped back into place and he took a noisy sip from his cup. “I saw her yesterday with Elaine at the Chicken Inn. She seemed all right to me.”
Of course she did—to the casual observer. At least she wasn’t pushing Elaine and Jennifer away. He was glad of that. He toyed with a paper jack-o’-lantern advertising pumpkin milk shakes and tried to decide how much to say. He didn’t want to broadcast Molly’s troubles all over town, but Aaron was his best friend. He’d been a sounding board for every tough issue Beau’d had to work through in his life, and he knew how to keep his mouth shut when the occasion demanded.
Pushing aside the pumpkin, Beau raked his fingers through his hair and glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. The Burger Shack was crowde
d, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to their conversation, so he decided to take a chance. “I guess you’ve heard that she’s trying to find out about her mom’s accident?”
“I have. What about it?”
“Somebody suggested that she talk to my uncle Clay. Apparently, Frank and Ruby Lane had some domestic trouble in the last few months before Ruby’s accident. Clay responded to calls from the neighbors complaining about their loud fights.”
“Molly didn’t know that?”
“She can’t remember anything about the last six months her mother was alive, and her dad would never talk about it. He died a few months ago, so when she got the invitation to Homecoming, she decided to come back to Serenity and find out for herself what happened. According to Clay, she was in the car with her mother when it went off the road.”
Aaron whistled softly. “She doesn’t remember that, either?”
Beau shook his head. “What I don’t get is why her dad never told her that. Why would you keep that from your kid?”
Aaron shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to upset her.”
“Well, if that’s what he wanted, it didn’t work. The man never spoke about the accident in fifteen years. Not one word, even though his daughter had lost her mother.” He could feel Aaron getting ready to argue Frank’s defense, but he cut him off. “I know, I know. She couldn’t remember. No sense upsetting her and all that. But how did he know she wouldn’t remember eventually? Why would you take a chance like that? Why just waltz through life and pretend it never happened?” He looked his friend directly in the eye. “Clay says that Ruby was keeping some secret and that Frank found out about it. But I’ll tell you what I think. I think he was willing to take the chance he did with Molly because he was hiding something. Something big.”
Aaron stuck the stir stick between his teeth and leaned back in his seat. “Like what?”
“I wish I knew.” Beau crumpled a napkin and added it to the pile on his tray. “It’s driving me crazy. I can’t even imagine how frustrated Molly must be.”
“How’s she handling it?”
“I don’t know. She’s still here. Says she’s staying until she knows the whole truth.” Beau added a straw wrapper to the heap. “I see her every day, and she seems fine on the surface, but she’s pulled way back in on herself. The most serious conversation we’ve had in a week was when she asked to use my computer so she could look up something on the Internet.”
“And that bothers you?”
“It bothers me a lot.”
“Because…?”
“Because she’s a friend. Because I hate to see anybody going through a rough time.”
Aaron laughed and slid down in his seat. “Wow. What a saint. Now what’s the real reason?”
Beau was beginning to wish he’d never started the conversation. He never expected to hide anything from Aaron, but he should have remembered that Aaron would never let Beau hide anything from himself, either. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop for a moment while he tried to argue himself out of the realization he’d been fighting all week.
“You care about her, don’t you,” Aaron said before Beau was ready. “You’re falling for her.”
“I care about her,” Beau agreed. But that was where he drew the line. He had to. He’d been through hell in the past few years because he’d made decisions with his heart. It was time to let his head do what it had been created for. “She’s a good friend,” he said. “I hate to see her struggling through this alone.”
“Doesn’t sound like she’s alone to me. But let’s skip to the important question. What are you going to do?”
“Keep my ears open. Try to find the answers she’s looking for.”
“In your spare time?”
“Something like that.”
Aaron arched that damn eyebrow again. “And the rest? You and Molly? What are you going to do about that?”
“Not a thing. There is no Molly and me. She’s leaving as soon as she finds what she came for, and I’ll still be here. End of story.”
“Is that what you want?” The stir stick between Aaron’s teeth bobbed up and down as he talked, and Beau fought the urge to snatch it out of his mouth.
“It’s what is,” he said with a casual shrug.
“Now. But things can change.”
Beau let out a needle-sharp laugh, decided Harvey wasn’t going to show and slid out of the booth. “That’s where you’re wrong, Aaron. What is, is. Things don’t change. People don’t change. And only a kid walks around with his head in the clouds, thinking he can make things work out the way he wants them to.”
As far as Beau was concerned, he’d already been acting like a kid for too long. It was time to grow up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“MOLLY! MOLLY! Come quick! Somebody’s sent you something.”
Startled out of the book she’d been reading, Molly sat up quickly and looked around to get her bearings. Clouds hung heavily in the sky, and the trees, which had still had their leaves when she arrived in Serenity just three weeks earlier, stood stark and bare.
The holidays were growing relentlessly closer, and even the thought of spending them with Cassandra didn’t wipe the ache from her heart. She couldn’t stay in Serenity forever. She knew that, but she couldn’t make herself leave, either.
The first flakes of snow from a winterlike storm drifted past her window, and she could see Nicky, wearing just a sweatshirt and jeans, barreling across the lawn toward the cabin.
She hurried to the door, throwing it open just as the boy jumped onto the porch. His little chest heaved with excitement and his breath formed a cloud in front of him as he tried to stop panting. “You’ve…gotta…come.” He bent at the waist and gripped his knees. “Right…now.”
“I will, but what are you doing running around without your coat? It’s freezing out there.” Molly tried to draw him into the cabin, but he pulled back and shook his head.
“No! You have to come quick. Somebody sent you something. Boxes and boxes of stuff. It’s all up at the house.” He danced a little in his excitement and pointed across the lawn as if she might have forgotten where the house was.
Molly gave up and reached for her sweater. She’d spent far too much money ordering supplies over the Internet during the past week, and she’d been having second thoughts. She justified her decisions because she needed to stay busy while she was here, but she was really just creating false reasons to stay.
She had no business taking advantage of Beau’s hospitality and no idea what made her think she could come close to recreating her mother’s designs. She’d probably just thrown away a chunk of money from her dad’s life insurance that could have gone for something more practical.
But now that the supplies were here, exhilaration bubbled up inside her again. It had been a long time since she’d felt excited about anything. It felt so good she almost didn’t care whether she succeeded or failed.
She closed the cabin door and hurried down the steps. Nicky jumped to the ground, fell to his knees and got up running. Laughing, Molly put a little zip into her step and started across the lawn behind the boy, who could hardly contain himself.
Apparently he decided she still wasn’t moving fast enough, because partway there he turned back and grabbed her hand. It was a completely spontaneous gesture, and Molly knew it meant nothing to Nicky, but her emotions had been raw since that day in Clay’s sunny kitchen, and her eyes blurred with unshed tears.
She wasn’t angry with Beau. She’d realized how over the top her reaction had been before she’d walked even just a couple of blocks that afternoon. But everything new she learned about her parents left her that much less certain of herself, and though she longed to find comfort in her friendship with Beau, she refused to let herself take refuge from the world. Not there. Not anywhere.
It was a completely logical decision, but it didn’t do a thing to lessen the confusion in his eyes or still the whispers of her hear
t.
“Come on, Molly.” Nicky dragged at her, making her move faster than she would have on her own.
She tried to laugh at the picture she knew they must make, but the sound caught in her throat. The cold air burned her cheeks and nose, and the scent of burning leaves reached her from somewhere nearby.
Her toe hit a bump in the lawn, and she nearly lost her balance. Tightening her grip on Nicky’s hand, she managed to slow the determined little boy. “Hold on,” she said, gasping for breath and laughing at the same time. “Let’s get there without breaking my neck.”
“But you gotta see! There’s probably a hundred boxes.”
“If there are a hundred, then someone’s made a mistake.” She regulated their pace a little more, and Nicky finally stopped fighting and fell into step beside her. “It’s not really that exciting,” she warned. “It’s just some supplies I ordered for my new business.” But just saying the words aloud made her fingers tingle and she felt as if a flurry of butterflies had been turned loose inside her.
“What kind of business?”
“I’m going to make jewelry like my mother did.”
Some of the excitement in Nicky’s blue eyes died away. “Jewelry? For girls?”
“I think so—at least most of it.”
They reached the back of the house and Nicky released her hand to charge up the steps. “Well, that’s dumb. Why don’t you make something for boys?”
“Maybe I will someday.” Molly followed him into the kitchen and closed the door to keep the cold out.
Brianne stood in front of a stack of brown cardboard boxes piled near the window. She turned one small box over in her hands and studied it carefully, but she jumped when the door opened, and set the box down with a guilty flush.
It was the first thing Molly had seen the girl show any real interest in, and she didn’t want to scare her off, so she pretended not to notice. “Oh, this is great. They must have delivered everything at once. Who’s that one from, Brianne?” She bobbed her head toward the box Brianne had been holding and picked up another to study the label.