Teresa stealthily reached into her pocket, closed her hand around the lipstick pepper spray, and plunged toward Carmen. As she charged the woman, Teri flicked off the top of the spray tube. Their bodies met and, Teri sprayed the liquid into Carmen’s big blue eyes. Once. Twice. Three times.
The woman let out one short, sharp cry before she and Teri crashed to the ground. Daniel backed away, screaming shrilly, but Teri barely heard him. “Go!” she yelled at him. “Run!” She wasn’t sure if he obeyed. She was too intent on finding the gun. Carmen fought and cursed as Teresa’s hands raked over her, digging, searching, but the woman’s eyes were streaming with tears and she couldn’t keep her hands away from them, couldn’t get a good grip on Teresa. After what seemed an eternity, Teri grabbed at cold metal, then realized she’d captured the flashlight. She dropped it, desperately seeking the gun. The gun, dammit. Where was the gun?
Suddenly, the world around them burst into brilliant light. Vaguely aware of noise amid the struggle, Teri looked up. Cars. Headlights. Red lights flashing garishly in the soft darkness of undisturbed wilderness. She was dreaming. Teri knew she was dreaming. Carmen let out an animal-like cry of frustration before pain pierced Teri’s temple. She shot me, Teri thought vaguely as the world began to fade. Carmen got me after all, just like she did Mom.
EPILOGUE
TERI STOOD IN THE bright sunlight just outside the barn. She drew in a deep breath of fresh, sun-warmed air and watched as Sierra capered after a butterfly. Had it only been a week since Carmen had arrived with food for her engagement party? Had it only been a week since Teri and Daniel had almost died at Carmen’s hands?
For two days after Carmen had delivered that furious blow to Teri’s temple with her own gun—the .22 she’d finally found—Teresa’s thoughts had been muddled, her recollections sketchy. She’d realized Mac was worried—Kent was worried—but she couldn’t focus. Then, on the third morning, she’d awakened with her mind sharp, the events of that awful night sharp-edged and so clear they hurt. She wanted to forget, but she knew she’d never be able to wipe that night from her memory.
Worst of all, she’d never be able to wipe Carmen Norris from her memory—worst because just as Carmen struck Teri in the head with her gun and, half-unconscious, Teri had rolled off Carmen’s body, one of the policemen had shot Carmen. Teri had felt something warm and wet and clinging splattering all over her face before she’d slipped into darkness. All Mac would tell Teri was that the cop had gotten Carmen in the head and that it had been bad. Carmen couldn’t have felt much pain, though, Mac always added. She must have died almost instantly.
Teri now watched as Mac’s Lexus started over the hill. He stopped the car beside the barn. Celeste popped out of the car and ran to Teri, her blond hair flying, her smile wide. She hugged Teri ecstatically, bent to pet an excited Sierra, then flung herself back into Teresa’s arms. “Oh, Teri, everybody said you were okay, but I had to see for myself. You look great! Well, you have a little bit of a bruise, but you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world!”
“I agree,” Mac said, striding toward Teri. His wavy hair glistened in the sunlight and his gaze sought hers, warm, protective, and loving. Teresa tore herself away from Celeste and went to Mac, melting into his strong embrace. “Hey, you’ve still got quite a grip there, Teri!” He laughed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I guess I can’t stop thinking about Fourth of July night when you left with your mother and you never came back.”
Mac looked shamefaced, although he jumped to his own defense. “I’ve apologized. I’ve explained.”
“That when you went back to your mother’s apartment and she wasn’t there, you went to the emergency room at the hospital. That she’d gone there because she thought she was having a heart attack and she didn’t want you to know. False alarm, thank God. That when you got out of the car, your cell phone fell out of your pocket and you must have kicked it under the next car. That you tried and tried to call from the pay phones in the hospital, but either they were tied up or when you got one and dialed my number I was on the phone.”
“Did you forget that those awful women behind the hospital receiving desk wouldn’t let me use one of their official phones meant only for hospital use?”
“You did indeed. It’s a highly unlikely story—so unlikely that I believe it and you’re forgiven. Although if you’d been here—”
“You might not have come so close to… well, I don’t even want to say it.” He looked over at Celeste. “But even if I let you down, Teri, you did have a guardian angel.”
Teri smiled at the girl. “You saved my life, Celeste. Mine and Daniel’s.”
“Well, barely,” Celeste said, blushing. “I couldn’t even talk. I thought it was going to be like last time when I couldn’t talk for a couple of years. But when I found out Daddy was still alive… well, my voice just came back.” Some of the joy left her eyes. “But I feel so bad about Grandma. If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be alive.”
“She died protecting you, Celeste,” Teri said. “I didn’t know your grandmother well, but I know how important you were to her, and if she had to die now, not twenty years from now, she would have wanted to die taking care of the girl she loved most in the world.” Celeste’s eyes filled with tears and Teri said quickly, “I asked Mac to bring you here for a reason. Let’s go into the barn. I have a surprise for you.”
“Are you going to let me ride Eclipse?” Celeste asked excitedly.
“Just wait and see,” Teri answered cryptically.
The inside of the barn was bright with sunlight glowing through the skylights. Still, Teresa flipped on a couple of the artificial lights so that every horse stood out clearly. Celeste wandered past the stalls, greeting Bonaparte, Conquistador, Fantasia, and Sir Lancelot. Just before she reached Eclipse, she stopped abruptly and gasped. A cream-colored Morgan with a graceful neck, a narrow, elegant head, and melting dark eyes whinnied, then pushed her muzzle into Celeste’s outstretched hand. “Meet Snowflake,” Teri said. “She’s all yours.”
Celeste’s mouth parted slightly. Her eyes met Teri’s. Then, in a tiny voice, she asked, “She’s mine? Really mine?”
“Yes, honey,” Teresa said. “I know she’s not white, like the original Snowflake, but she’s a very light cream with only a couple of dark markings. I hope you’re not disappointed.”
“Dis… disappointed?” Celeste ran from the horse, threw herself into Teri’s arms again, and cried, “Oh, thank you, Teri! Thank you, thank you—”
“Okay!” Teresa laughed. “I guess she meets with your approval?”
“I never thought in my whole life I’d have a horse like her! I can’t believe it! Daddy won’t believe it! Daddy will pay you—”
“No, he won’t,” Teresa said firmly. “Snowflake is my gift to you.” She looked down into the girl’s brimming eyes. “Now go pay attention to your horse. She misses you already.”
In a moment, Celeste stood in front of Snowflake, stroking her, talking to her, dripping tears onto the horse’s muzzle, which Snowflake did not seem to mind at all. Sierra, unable to contain herself in moments of joy, stood beside Celeste, twisting, turning, and frantically wagging her tail.
“Buying that horse for Celeste was wonderful of you,” Mac said. “I know it cost a fortune.”
“I am a wildly successful woman. I’ll have you know I gained two new students this week, now that everyone knows I did not kill anyone.” She sobered. “Not even Carmen.”
“She deserved what she got, just like Byrnes did,” Mac said.
“And how’s your mother?” Teri asked.
“She’d been going downhill the last week because Celeste’s talking and Byrnes’s recanting his confession upset her. She wasn’t sleeping much, and when she did, she had nightmares. She kept mixing up your mother and Hugh with Carmen and Hugh. In her subconscious, she knew about the affair—I think she even saw Hugh and Carmen having some breakup scene at your house, but she wasn’t sure
of what she was seeing. Down deep she’s always known about them, though, and it’s been eating her alive for years. She’ll be all right now that we know what was troubling her. My mother is a survivor.”
“I wish mine had been. I can’t even give her a proper funeral. We have no idea where Carmen buried her. The police dug all around the igloo and found nothing, and no one is going to let us dig up half of TNT looking for her.”
“But you said you’re going to put up a monument for her here at Farr Fields—something small and pretty, just like she’d want. We’ll have a service. You and Mom and I will be here. Kent and Daniel and Sharon.”
“Sharon only if she’s out of the ‘convalescent’ home, as Kent insists on calling it,” Teri said. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing that this nervous breakdown happened. Sharon has needed help for a long time. Kent was just terrified she was going down the same road as my mother.”
“And he didn’t want it to affect his public image,” Mac said sourly. Teresa shot him a stern look. “All right. I promised I’d try to resurrect my friendship with Kent.” Mac paused. “Especially since he’s going to be my brother-in-law.”
Teresa raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is he?”
“Isn’t he?”
“I don’t know. Is this your way of proposing, Mac? If it is, I can’t say much for your style.”
Mac immediately dropped to his knee, pulled a ring case from his pocket, snapped open the lid, and held up a sparkling solitaire set in platinum. “Teresa Lynn Farr, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
While Teresa pretended to think about it, Celeste dashed to her side, her eyes twinkling. Teri put her left arm around the girl’s shoulder and said, “The answer is yes on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” Mac asked.
“That Celeste will agree to be my maid of honor.”
“Oh, Teri, really?” Celeste cried. “This day just gets better and better. Yes, I’ll be your maid of honor! Oh, please marry Mac! You have to, Teri; you really do!”
Teresa looked deep into Mac’s eyes—the eyes she’d loved since she was sixteen. “Yes, I guess I really do.”
If You Ever Tell Page 36