The living room was small in comparison to Merrilee’s airy parlor, but comfortable. The palest of pale blue covered the walls while delicately stitched doilies added a touch of elegance to the chipped knickknacks lining the end tables. Cushioned chairs in dark blues and greens made a half circle where guests could sit and enjoy the fire while listening to the radio, which dominated the far wall.
“Here, have a seat.” Gertie motioned to an appealing rocking chair in the corner of the room. “Let me just tell Momma you’re here.”
Her friend disappeared down a hallway that must lead to the back of the house. Mr. Stephens closed the door then headed for an oversized chair resting in front of the fireplace.
Edie walked across the room, studying the framed black-and-white pictures placed lovingly across the mantel. Mr. Stephens and his wife on their wedding day, their faces pensive, their gazes staring off into their future together. Another showed Gertie, probably no more than twelve, her skinny legs and arms giving her a gangly look, like a newborn filly ready to test her legs.
Her eyes shifted to the next grainy photo. Three children, teenagers really, two boys and a slightly older Gertie. She and the boy standing next to her stared back at Edie with the same soulful dark eyes. Must be her brother. The wide smiles plastered on their faces competed with the sunshine of the day. But the other boy…
Edie focused on him. He was white, not the three or four shades of gray like Gertie and her brother, tall with pale eyes, probably blue or green. While he grinned as brightly as the Stephens children, there was something about him, a sadness that shrouded him like the shade trees casting shadows on the group. And a familiarity she couldn’t shake.
She turned around to where Mr. Stephens had taken a seat, the top of his head barely visible over the newspaper he was holding. “Is this your son?”
“Bring it here and let me look at it.”
Edie gingerly lifted the frame from its place on the mantel and carried it to Mr. Stephens. He held his hand out, drawing it close once he had it in his grasp. The playful teasing she had seen in his coffee-colored eyes faded, replaced by a shade of somber black as he studied the picture. “No, this is Gertie with George.”
The man’s fingers trailed across the glass, as if reaching out to touch his child. “George had just turned sixteen here.”
“Is he in the service, too?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes still glued to the photo. “He went missing not too long after this was taken.”
“I’m so sorry.” Edie rested her hand on the older man’s shoulder, but that didn’t feel like enough. What did someone say in a situation like this?
Mr. Stephens gave a little sigh and grinned. “I’d forgotten we had this picture. The kids had a good time that day.”
“Gertie and George seemed like they might be laughing at something there.”
“Even Beau looked happy.” Mr. Stephens leaned closer to the picture. “Which wasn’t always the case back then.”
Edie’s insides trembled. He couldn’t be talking about the man she’d spent the better part of the evening trying not to think about, could he? “Beau Daniels?”
Mr. Stephens nodded. “He and George were like brothers. Just about killed my son when Beau ran off. Not too long after that, George went missing. He’s been gone ever since.”
Chapter Seven
The screen door smacked shut behind Beau, his mind wandering in every direction before always coming back to Edie. After Mack had left him on the street, Beau had walked around town, hoping to catch up with her, maybe even explain the sheriff’s sudden need to talk to him. An hour of staring through every store window in town had turned up nothing so he gave up and headed home.
The light scent of newly bloomed crepe myrtle hung in the front hallway. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Did everything always smell this good at home, as if all the dust and dirt of this world had been washed away, leaving the tender blossoms clean and new?
Or was it that he’d forgotten everything but the death and decay that surrounded him at the prison camp?
“You’re getting home mighty late.” Merrilee walked down the hall toward him, wiping her hands with her apron.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Merri.” He leaned down and kissed her on her cheek. “I spent the afternoon at the hospital, then Mack needed to talk to me. The evening kind of got away from me.”
Merrilee smoothed the skirt of her apron over her dress. “Well, if you’re hungry, there’s a plate out in the kitchen for you.”
He should have thought his aunt would hold dinner for him. “Oh, I’m sorry. We already ate supper in town.”
One reddish-blond eyebrow spiked in an arch. “We?”
He didn’t really want to get into the whole situation of Edie Michaels right now, then thought better of it. Maybe he should just tell his aunt what he’d found and get her take on the matter. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“Okay.”
She led him into the parlor and motioned him to take a seat beside her on the couch. “Now, what’s with all the mystery?”
Beau glanced over at the window. The blackout curtains he had tangled with the night before hung in neat lines, obstructing the glass. He looked back at his aunt. “How well do you know Edie Michaels?”
Leaning forward, Merrilee patted his knee, a smile playing along her lips. “I knew you two would hit it off.”
“Aunt Merri.”
“What?” Merrilee’s smile faded slightly. “I can’t dream of having a houseful of grand-nieces and -nephews to spoil and bake cookies for?”
“Maybe Maggie will help you out with that once she and Wesley get married.” Laughing, Beau rested back against the cushions. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll…” An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. “I’m sorry, Merrilee. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.” But the stark lines that creased the area around her mouth and between her eyes told Beau his comment had torn the scab off a deep cut in his aunt’s heart. If her marriage had worked out, Merrilee might have enough kids to field a baseball team. Even now, at almost thirty, she had plenty of time to produce the family she longed for, if only she’d open her heart.
“Why do you want to know about Edie?”
Beau rubbed his hand across his chest, the folded paper safely inside his interior coat pocket. He couldn’t burden her with the letter yet, not until he’d dug up more information on Edie, not until he was certain of her innocence. Or guilt, he reminded himself. “Just interested. Maggie said something about her being from the Detroit area.”
“That’s right. From my understanding, she still has family there, though I don’t think she hears from them much.”
“Why do you say that?”
Merrilee turned toward him, hitching one ankle under the other. “Why do you care?”
Because Edie’s a threat. But that thought didn’t sit well with him. What kind of woman gave her blood to a dying Negro soldier? No one Beau had ever known. He answered Merrilee the only way he could, with the truth. “No one should be alone.”
Merrilee studied him for a moment, then nodded as if satisfied with his reply. “The reason I think she doesn’t hear from her family much is that in the year she’s been here, she hasn’t gotten one letter from home.”
There had to be a reasonable answer. Edie would stay in touch with her parents, at least. “Maybe she has a post office box.”
“I asked her about it once, but she said her folks weren’t much for writing letters. You could tell the situation bothered her.” Merrilee glanced over at the mantel clock and huffed. “Not that the girl would have a lot of time to read them. Here it is almost nine o’clock and she’s still not home from work.”
A thread of concern knotted in his stomach. “I thought Edie was upstairs.”
Merrilee shook her head. “No, but that’s nothing unusual. Sometimes she goes back to the plant after she’s done volunteering at the hospital, espe
cially if she got a new project late in the day.”
“But this late? The buses stopped running an hour ago.”
“She likes to walk, says she needs this exercise after sitting at a desk all day long.” Merrilee patted him on his arm. “I’m sure she’s on her way home right now.”
If that were true, he would have passed her on his way home. No, something had happened. Guilt brought Beau to his feet. “Can I borrow your car?”
“You’re going out again?”
“Only for a little while.” No use getting his aunt all riled up, at least not yet. Let him find Edie, and then the pair of them could blast him with both barrels blazing.
“Sure, but be careful, okay?”
Beau didn’t wait. He hustled across the room and through the doorway, made a quick grab for the keys and headed out the front door.
The wood floors of the porch rattled as he bolted across the porch and down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step. As he rounded the front of the car, a set of lights, like twin fireflies, turned down the drive, growing brighter as they flew closer to the house. Beau lifted his hand over his brow and squinted. An older model car with two, maybe three people inside. He stepped back on the grass as the car pulled up alongside him and slowed to a stop.
Gertie pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out, pointing a playful finger at him. “I thought that was you.”
Beau swallowed, his belly churning into a sickening knot as Mr. Stephens unfolded himself out of the backseat and stood next to the car. “Beau.”
The Stephenses. George’s family.
The reason he’d run away from his father all those years ago. “Gertie.” Beau nodded toward the older man. “Mr. Stephens.”
From the front seat of the car, Edie watched the different emotions play across Beau’s face. Not sadness, though there were glimpses of it in the slight downturn of his mouth and around his eyes. But something else, a feeling she could almost touch with the tips of her fingers but not quite grasp, haunted his expression. The faint desire to put her arms around him and hold him close seared through her. Edie gasped. What was she thinking? She had just met the man.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t know Beau. He loved his aunt and cousins, even his scoundrel of a father. He’d worked hard to save lives on the battlefield and wanted to do the same here at home by being a doctor. He’d been friends with George and Gertie when others would have turned away.
Edie looked through the windshield at him. And he hadn’t been arrested this evening like she’d thought he would.
“What you tryin’ to do, catch bugs with that open mouth?” Gertie rested her forearms along the top of the car door and smiled. “You were the one all bent on getting home at a decent hour.”
“Right.” Edie pulled the handle up, then pushed on the door frame.
“What are y’all doing here, Gertie?” Beau’s voice rumbled from nearby. “You know it’s not safe for you to be on this side of town this time of the night.”
“Couldn’t help it. Had to return something that was lost.”
Standing, Edie glanced over the roof of the car just in time to meet Beau’s gaze. “Edie?”
Her heart pounded beneath her breast. When did she get to be so silly about men, especially Beau Daniels? Shutting the door, Edie tested her legs, taking a couple of wobbly steps before stopping a few paces from him. Why didn’t he back up a step, at least give her room to thank Gertie instead of standing so close, all wiry muscles and concern?
Edie moved, plastering her hip against the car. “Thank you so much for giving me a ride home, Mr. Stephens, Gertie. And tell Mrs. Stephens again how much I enjoyed her pudding.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
Beau glared down at her. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was madder than a hornet’s nest. But why should he be? He hadn’t been the one lost in the middle of nowhere tonight. She straightened and looked at Mr. Stephens. “You know I’d be happy to give you some of my gas rations.”
A deep, rich chuckle broke through the quiet of the night. “We’ve already talked about that, young lady.”
Edie smiled. Even in the mess she was in, God had provided her with good friends. “You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”
“Thanks for bringing Ms. Michaels home.” Beau held open the door of the car for Gertie. “But you’d better get a move on. Don’t want any problems for you and your family.”
Gertie walked around to the side of the car then stood at the open door. “Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”
Beau rubbed his thumb across a puckered slice of skin near his knuckles. “Nothing we’d want to go through again.”
Gertie gave a sad nod. “Night, y’all.”
“Night.” Edie waited until the taillights faded into pale pink in the pitch dark before heading for the porch.
“Where are you going?”
Edie stopped midstep at Beau’s growl. What in tarnation did he have to be mad about? Dinner had been hours ago, and though she loved these shoes, she didn’t like the blisters her hike out of town had caused. She turned toward him. “I don’t know, Beau. Maybe I’ll go to Atlanta. I was halfway there this evening.”
Did his mouth twitch, almost as if he was holding back a smile? He pointed in the opposite direction. “Atlanta’s that way.”
Edie turned on her heel, a whisper of a smile playing on her lips. What was it about a man with a snappy sense of humor that always made her breath catch in her throat? “It’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed.”
“So how did you meet up with the Stephenses tonight?”
If he was bent on hearing the whole story, she would tell it sitting down. Edie plopped into a nearby rocking chair and kicked off her shoes. “I got twisted around after I left the diner today and took the wrong road out of town. By the time I realized it, it was already getting dark. I ended up on the Stephenses’ doorstep.”
“Then why didn’t you call?”
Edie glared up at him as he stood on the top step, leaning against a post, his arms crossed over his chest. “I thought you might be in jail tonight.”
“Mack was just pulling your leg. He wants me to play ball for the police department when they go up against the bomber plant.”
“I didn’t know that. And the way he was acting, I just assumed…” She stopped. She’d been jumping to conclusions ever since she’d met this man. Time to examine the facts. “Mack seemed pretty serious for something as silly as a ball game.”
“You don’t know how serious he is about winning.”
“And he can only win with you?”
“No, but he has a better chance of it.” Strands of fiery gold shimmered in the pale moonlight when Beau chuckled. “Look, Mack and I have been friends since before both of us were old enough to use a razor, and sometimes his jokes just aren’t that funny.”
“No, they’re not.” With a tiny push, Edie set the chair to rocking. “I probably should have taken him up on his offer to have one of his deputies drive me home.”
“I’m sure he would have liked that.”
Was that a hint of jealousy in Beau’s answer? And why did the thought make her feel like a bar of chocolate left out on the sidewalk in the middle of a heat wave? Well, she needed to stop this nonsense and stop it now. “Maybe next time, I’ll take him up on it.”
“Maybe next time, you won’t have a reason to hightail it out of there like that.”
She gave a little snort of laughter. “Is that another way to say run away?”
He chuckled, a warm sound that caused a pleasant rumble down her spine. Beau pushed away from the railing and walked the short distance to the chair beside her. He lowered himself in the rocker, the wood moaning softly against the porch floor. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t call here. I’m sure Merrilee or Maggie would have been okay with picking you up.”
“I know they would’ve, but that wasn’t the problem.” Edie put her wei
ght on her forearm and leaned toward him. “Gertie and her family don’t have a phone. Nobody in her neighborhood does.”
This close, she could just make out the shadow of his brows furrowing together in a sharp line. “But it wouldn’t take much to connect to the phone lines at the road.”
So she hadn’t missed the telephone poles. “Gertie’s been trying for the last few months to get the phone company to string lines, but they told her it was too much work for a community that small.”
“Sounds like somebody’s just making up an excuse not to do the work.”
That had been her first thought, too. Edie gave her rocking chair a hard push. “Well, that’s just not right. What if something happened to one of those kids in the neighborhood? How would they get help?”
“I don’t know.” Beau rocked in a slow rhythm beside her. “At least they’ve got Gert to help them out if something does go wrong.”
Edie jerked her chair to a halt. “But that’s not enough. And what about Gertie? How is she going to find another job if no one can pick up the phone and call her?”
“I thought she worked at the hospital.”
She put her hand over her mouth. Maybe the darkness had coaxed Gertie’s problem out of her, or maybe it was the man beside her. Either way, she was sunk. “She got fired today.”
The tempo of Beau’s rocker slowed. “Does this have anything to do with you giving blood this afternoon?”
“I was the only match available. If this kid didn’t get blood fast, he would have died.”
“I know. I was there.” He drew in a sharp breath then let it go. “Still, it wasn’t a smart idea.”
Smart? Maybe not, but they had been too busy saving the young man’s life. “And I guess you would take Dr. Lovinggood’s side?”
“No, in fact, I know he’s wrong. I just wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
Now he was just being infuriating. “I didn’t plan on passing out.”
“But you did.”
Edie curled back into the rocker. What did it matter who was right? Gertie had been punished by losing her job. “And now Gertie’s out of work. Which makes it even more important to get those phone lines hung as soon as possible.”
Hearts in Hiding Page 9
