Hearts in Hiding
Page 7
“So you’re going back to school?”
“Not right away.” Beau scooped some mashed potatoes onto his fork. “I’ve got to get Merrilee’s place up and running. Got to get seed in the ground if we hope to cash in on the harvest next fall.”
“You’re a farmer, too?”
He chuckled again. “I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that. But I’m willing to learn, especially if it will provide a way to take care of Merrilee and Claire.”
Edie pushed her green beans around on her plate.
Well, Merrilee didn’t need Beau’s help. From where she sat, her landlady was doing a pretty good job of taking care of her and her daughter. She had the boardinghouse, and she made a little pocket money by selling the extra fruit and vegetables from her garden to every diner in town. And her baked goods were always in demand. Edie glanced over at the counter where one of Merrilee’s rare chocolate confections sat encased in a glass cake plate. So why did Beau think he was obligated to provide for his aunt?
She put her cup down. “Well, I’m sure Dr. Lovinggood will be glad to have your help. We’re always short staffed, especially in the evenings.”
“You must volunteer at the hospital quite a bit to have Ms. Arnold hovering over you like she did.” Beau gave her a smile that would melt all the snowdrifts back home in Michigan.
Edie felt herself go hot. “The folks around here have been so nice to me. I figure it’s the least I can do.”
“That’s mighty kind of you.”
Did she detect a hint of skepticism in his voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether he believed her or not? A nest of butterflies took up residence in her midsection. It didn’t matter what Beau Daniels thought. Though working with the sick wasn’t something she planned on doing for the rest of her life, she found a sanctuary at the hospital.
Or a hiding place. She wasn’t sure.
Edie swallowed against a tide of uneasiness. “So did Dr. Lovinggood give you a job?”
Beau nodded. “Even offered to pay me. Said it wasn’t right for a man to come home from the war and not make an honest day’s wage. I figure I can use part of it for seeds and equipment and put the rest back for school.”
“You’ve got some mighty big plans.”
He leaned back in the booth. “You sound surprised.”
“I guess I just figured…” Edie broke off, her mouth suddenly dry as a summer drought at her unfinished thought. She should know better than anyone what it’s like to live under the shadow of her father’s horrible decision. And yet she’d judged him. Lord, please forgive me. And help me see Beau the way I want others to see me. She took a calming breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t worry about it. You just said what everyone else is thinking.”
“But that doesn’t make it right.”
He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. The only way folks are going to realize that I’m not like my dad is for me to show them I’ve changed.”
Beau made it sound so simple, but was it? Would he ever convince people that he wasn’t like his father, a man who had run moonshine, who had tried to steal his sister’s home from her, who had almost killed another woman pilot while hoping to scare his niece away from her work?
And would she ever step out of the shadows of her parents’ treason without it tainting everything in her life?
Shame ricocheted through her. She highly doubted it. Well, there was nothing else to do but try to be the best person she could.
Beau set his fork down. “What about you? Where are you from?”
She hadn’t been expecting that question. “Right outside Detroit.”
“Still got family there?”
Yes, but none who would claim her. “No.”
His gaze turned soft. “That must be tough, being all alone like that.”
She pressed her lips together, glancing around the half-empty diner. What if she told him the truth, that her father and mother wanted nothing to do with her since she’d turned her back on their beliefs? Would Beau understand, or would he only hear one word?
German.
“It was hard being alone at first,” Edie said, remembering the nights she’d come home to an empty apartment. Sleep had not come easy in those days, just in fits and starts. “But it’s gotten easier. I keep myself occupied.”
“You mean your volunteer work.”
“Yes, and living at Merrilee’s is like being with family.”
“Still, you must miss them.”
She nodded, struggling to swallow against the knot in her throat. Yes, she missed her parents, her grandmother, too. More than she ever imagined. She longed for the old times, spending the afternoons running errands downtown with her mother. Sitting in her grandma’s kitchen, the warm scent of vanilla from the fresh cherry pies they baked lightly perfuming the air. There had been no worries then, just the comfort of family.
But those days didn’t exist anymore.
Beau’s hand covered hers in a reassuring squeeze. “It’s tough being on your own. Believe me, I know. But I also know that whether we understand it or not, God will make something good come out of your situation.”
How she wanted to yell. Instead, Edie stared at him. “Is that what you thought when you left home at what? Fifteen?”
“Sixteen,” he corrected. “No, I thought running away was the only answer.”
Just a kid. “You were so young to be on your own.”
“Well, it was either that or become a permanent resident of the county jail.” One side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile.
Lowering her gaze to the table, Edie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just like your father.”
“Yeah, Dad’s always been as mean as a snake. Probably be good for him to spend some time behind bars.” He laughed, a humorless sound, cold and unfeeling, leaving her to wonder what kind of pain James Daniels had inflicted on his son. “Maybe then he’ll think about what he’s done to his family and pull his life together.”
“You think he can change?”
He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure he won’t. But there are a lot of people who would never have believed I could change, either.”
“Do you even know the charges against him?”
“Yes, but that’s not what’s important.”
Not important? Had the man lost his mind? Edie threw her napkin on the table. “I think you need to speak to Mack Worthington about it. I’m sure he would be happy to talk to you about the severity of the charges, maybe even give you some advice.”
“I’m sure he would. And he’ll probably tell me that the possibility of Dad ever getting out of jail is nonexistent. But that doesn’t mean he can’t change.”
The oddly gentle tone in which he spoke caused her to glance over at him. She could only imagine what Beau Daniels must be going through. Would he rethink his discussion about giving his father a second chance when he learned the truth, that James Daniels had been charged with one of the most despicable crimes a man could commit against his country?
The same charges her own parents would face if caught.
“Look, Beau.” She cleared her throat. “The bottom line is, your father is going to have to face his punishment.”
“I know, and I think he should be punished. But that doesn’t mean he can’t have a change of heart.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Beau studied her. “You don’t believe much in people changing, do you?”
Sure, she did. But she knew James Daniels, had witnessed his mean spirit firsthand. “Not when I know it’s a lost cause.”
The soft smile Beau gave her made blood race through her veins. “The way I see it, we’re all a lost cause before God gets hold of us.”
Dishes clinked quietly around them. Edie didn’t expect him to understand, though for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why Beau would want to help the man who had chased him out of town when he was just a kid. Well, it didn’t matter. She’d prayed that
God would—how did Beau say it?—get hold of her parents, while she waited for them to see how misguided their belief in Hitler was. No, no matter what Beau believed, God didn’t give everyone a second chance.
Not James Daniels. And not her parents.
Not me.
So deep in her thoughts was she that Edie barely noticed the man standing next to them until his hat came to rest at the corner of the table.
Sheriff Mack Worthington cleared his throat. “Hello, Edwina, Beau. Didn’t expect to find you here.”
If Beau was nervous about the sheriff’s sudden appearance, he didn’t show it. Instead he stood, smiling widely when he patted Mack on the back as if greeting an old friend. “We were both over at the hospital. Edie hadn’t eaten anything all day, and I’ve been pining for some of Smithy’s homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes for years. What about you? On your dinner break?”
The man shook his head, his gaze shifting from Edie before settling on Beau. “Got some more questions for you, Beau.”
Edie blinked. When had the sheriff had time to question Beau in the first place?
“Well, then here.” Beau scooted over on the bench seat to make room for Mack. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee, and we can talk.”
“No.” Mack eyed Edie cautiously, as though she were too delicate to hear what might be discussed. Edie mashed her lips together in irritation. What did the sheriff think, that one conversation was going to make her faint dead away? “This isn’t the kind of conversation that needs to be conducted in front of a lady.”
Beau looked at her, his eyes questioning, a slight wrinkle creasing his forehead the only sign of any trouble. He turned back to Mack, this time his expression serious. “Of course. Where would you like to talk?”
“How about down at the station?”
Edie sat back in the booth. Of course, Beau may not have been back in Marietta but twenty-four hours, but there was no telling the damage he’d left behind when he had skipped town years ago. Maybe he’d been right, maybe he had changed. But if he’d committed a crime, he’d have to answer for it.
But something about Beau Daniels made her think that wasn’t the case—that instead of taking after his good-for-nothing father, Beau had spent his life away from everything he loved to have a chance at becoming the kind of man James Daniels never would.
Edie shoved the thought aside as she pushed her plate away. “Well, I was finished with dinner anyway.”
“Then let me walk you home. I’m sure Merrilee will let me borrow her car to drive back into town.” Beau retrieved his wallet from his coat pocket. He shucked out some bills and threw them on the table.
“I’m sorry Beau, but I can’t let you do that.” Mack shook his head. “This can’t wait.”
“It’s okay.” Edie scooted across the slippery leather of the booth and stood. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my way home.”
Beau stood up. “Then at least let me call you a cab.”
“I could get one of my deputies to drive you home, Edwina.”
She shook her head. “That’s all right. A nice long walk home is just what I need at the moment.” She turned to Beau, unprepared for the way her heart stumbled when their gazes met. Well, she refused to be duped into believing another man. With a fortifying breath, she straightened. “What would you like for me to tell your aunt?”
“That I’ll be home as soon as I’m finished with Mack. And to keep the front door unlocked, just in case.” He gave her a tender smile. “Don’t want to scare anyone when I come in.”
Edie gave him a quick nod, then turned, not sure why his mention of the promise he’d made her caused a shaft of warmth to flood through her like a stream after a dry season. She walked toward the door and glanced back. Beau was on his feet now, his head bowed as if in prayer as he stared down at the sheriff.
But he wasn’t praying. More than likely trying to talk his way out of whatever scrape had drawn Mack’s attention in the first place. Well, she didn’t need to borrow any more trouble than she already had.
Not when she had enough problems to last a lifetime.
Chapter Six
Lifting his hat to his head, Beau stepped out onto the sidewalk. Although the muted colors of early evening had settled over the square, he peeled off his wool jacket and draped it over his arm. Spring had never been this hot when he was a kid—or maybe he had had too many other things on his mind back then.
Like living through another day.
He glanced through the paned-glass window of the diner then straightened. Where was Mack? He smiled. Knowing his old friend, he was probably talking Old Man Smith out of a cake doughnut and a cup of coffee to go. He had hoped to run into the sheriff sometime today, though the man’s timing wasn’t exactly perfect.
Beau looked down the street in the direction Edie had gone just a minute ago. Mack had sure scared her off, not that it would have taken much. Beau had been walking on thin ice with his aunt’s beautiful boarder since he’d tumbled through the window the night before. Edie Michaels wasn’t one for giving second chances—she’d said as much. And he’d blown his first one breaking into Merrilee’s house.
But what had caused Edie to stop giving people another opportunity when they messed up?
Beau drew in a deep breath. Maybe the woman’s position had something to do with the letter he’d found the night they’d met.
“I’ve got to tell you,” Mack interrupted, blowing at the steam gathered along the top of the paper cup he was holding. “I love being a police officer. Only job that will keep your coffee cup filled at any hour of the day or night.”
“That, and you get to hassle law-abiding citizens, too.”
“What does that mean?”
For a brief moment, Beau felt the urge to knock the cup right out of the sheriff’s hand. “Could you have scared off Ms. Michaels any faster? And what was all that stuff about hauling me down to the station?”
“Hey, take it up with Chief Muster. He’s the one who wants you to play third base when we go up against the bomber plant in a couple of weeks.”
“But did you have to make it sound like you were about to arrest me?”
Mack chuckled. “Yeah, that was a stroke of genius, wasn’t it.”
Beau started walking. “Not from where I’m standing.”
“Well, if you think you’ve got a chance with Edwina Michaels, you’d better be thinking again,” the man said, coming up alongside him. “I’ve walked the woman home from the hospital a couple of times, even asked her out once, and it’s always the same. She’s too busy with work.”
And yet Edie had come to dinner with him. Granted, she was starving, but if she had truly not wanted to come, she seemed to be the type to throw out a made-up excuse. Only she didn’t. The faint feeling of contentment slightly confused him. A relationship, particularly with someone like Edie Michaels, wasn’t on his agenda, not with too many other pressing items weighing on him.
“So,” Beau started. “What was so urgent you felt the need to interrupt my dinner for?”
“What do you think?”
My father. Beau lowered his head, his gaze settling on the cracks in the paved sidewalk. “How’s the old man doing?”
“Fine. Got into a bit of a fight today, but one of the prison medics was able to stitch him up.” Mack looked over at him. “He keeps asking about you.”
Not back home for twenty-four hours and already the old man was in more hot water. “What does he want to know?”
“If you’re going to come see him.”
“I will, but not yet. I’ve got some other things I need to take care of first.”
“I hate to keep asking, but have you thought about a lawyer for him yet?”
Beau shook his head. “I figured I’d have to go to Atlanta to get someone.”
“Probably not a bad idea. Too many people know too much about him around here.” Mack drew in a deep breath. “Don’t know how we’re going to sit an unprejudiced jury.”
After all, it had worked for him.
“Anybody you’d recommend?” Beau watched the plant bus pass. The men crossed the street in front of the courthouse, where the two bottom floors made up the police station and county jail.
“Not off the top of my head, but I’ll ask around.” Mack took a couple of steps then turned to face him. “Another thing. Right after I talked to you this morning, the judge gave us a warrant on his house down Powder Springs Road. I went out there this afternoon, but I couldn’t get in. Thought maybe you had a key.”
Beau shook his head. “Maybe Merrilee does. From what I’ve heard, Dad’s been living at Merrilee’s since Granddaddy died.”
“The house, it was trashed, at least around the outside. Yard’s waist-high in weeds. Afraid I was going to get snake bit. And that front porch is going to have to be reinforced before anyone tries to go through that front door.”
Beau nodded. Just as he’d expected. Dad had left the house to rot.
“But that’s not the oddest thing. I went out behind the house, just to take a look at the barn.” Mack stared up at him. “There’s a crop in the field.”
Beau wasn’t sure he’d heard the man right. “A crop?”
“Right beyond the back of the barn. Corn, tobacco, maybe even a little wheat. And it looks as if it’s almost ready to harvest.”
“What are you saying, Mack?”
Mack’s brows furrowed into a hard line. “Your dad may have been farming that land before he was arrested.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Beau scrubbed his hand along the tight muscles in the back of his neck. Even during his youth, he couldn’t remember Dad ever planting crops. He thought it was beneath a Daniels to be working in the dirt. “Did you talk to Uncle Jeb or Aunt Merrilee about it?”