by B. J Daniels
He parked the patrol car and, taking his shotgun and extra ammunition, sprinted up the road a way before cutting through the trees. He hadn’t gone far when he stumbled on a vehicle he recognized. Deena’s SUV. There was a rifle on the floor of the backseat.
“What the hell?” Fear threatened to overtake him. Whatever Deena was doing here it couldn’t be good.
He could hear the rush of the waterfall even before he topped a rise and spotted the cabin through the trees in the distance. He saw Doc’s car was parked below it. And to his surprise, Bridger Duvall’s big black car. No sign of Errol’s old blue pickup.
Deena and Bridger Duvall?
Doc definitely wasn’t inside the cabin. So what was his car doing here?
Cutting through the trees, he circled the cabin, praying he’d come to the right place. Deena’s and Bridger’s cars being here had thrown him.
As he drew nearer, he heard a gunshot. He began to run toward the cabin, having no idea what he would find once he got there.
THE BULLET ERROL had fired at Deena burrowed into the door frame, the sound booming through the small cabin.
“Get her,” Wanda cried, and Errol took off at a run after Deena. Another shot, followed by the splintering of wood and Deena’s long eerie cry, then silence.
Even Wanda turned to look toward the porch as if she knew Deena had fallen through the old railing and dropped to the creek below.
Eve saw her chance in that moment when Wanda looked through the open doorway toward the porch. Errol would be back any moment. Eve grabbed for the shotgun.
Wanda Wilson was a strong farm woman. Eve’s arms were weak from being bound for so long. She wrestled Wanda for the shotgun knowing she would lose.
Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw Bridger. He had something gripped in both hands, his wrists still bound. He swung a large stuffed northern pike, catching Wanda in the side of the head. Her grip on the shotgun loosened an instant before she slumped to the floor and Errol yelled from the doorway, “I’m going to kill you sons of bitches!”
Eve would always remember the first shot. It whistled past her ear, so close she could feel its power, hear the rush of the air it filled, smell the gunpowder.
Bridger shoved her aside as Errol took aim again.
“No!” she cried as Bridger lunged at Errol. She saw Errol swing the gun toward him, the barrel aimed at his chest. She heard the boom. It reverberated through her skull and she screamed again.
The second shot wasn’t as loud. Errol seemed surprised by it. In that instant, before Bridger crashed into him, Errol had stood frowning in the doorway staring at Eve as if he’d thought she’d fire the gun.
Errol fell back on the porch as Bridger hit him.
Eve heard another shot and scrambled to her feet, afraid Bridger had been shot a second time.
But Bridger was up, breathing hard, standing over Errol. Next to him, standing in a shaft of sunlight, was Sheriff Carter Jackson. He was still holding his gun, staring down at the dead Errol.
Carter’s eyes filled when he saw her. All he had time to do was open his arms as she flew into them.
Chapter Seventeen
When Lila saw Eve, she broke down, ran out into the afternoon rainstorm and threw her arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Eve leaned into her mother. “I’m all right.”
Lila pulled herself together, stepping back to hold her at arm’s length to study her. “Yes,” she said, smiling through her tears. “You’re a Bailey. Bailey women are strong. They’re survivors.”
Eve’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded and let Lila take her into the house, leading her to the kitchen.
“Sit here. I’ll make you something to eat. You must be starving.”
Eve wasn’t hungry, but she knew cooking was how her mother had always dealt with every problem, so she said nothing as she watched her.
Lila made a sandwich and slid it in front of her. She looked nervous and afraid to sit down, afraid of what came next.
“We have to talk about it,” Eve said.
Lila nodded.
“Do you know who my biological mother is?”
“No.” Her mother sank into a chair across from Eve, her hands gripped together on the table. “I never wanted to know. You were a gift, Eve, my first child. I loved you more than life. You were my child, my precious child, a true gift from God.”
Eve felt her own tears as she saw her mother’s eyes flood. “Why didn’t you take Bridger, too?”
She shook her head. “He was promised to the other parents. Chester never forgave me. He always wanted a son. He always said that one reason you felt as if something was missing was because of your twin. I’m sorry, Eve. But I couldn’t take that little boy from them. There were other chances to get a son, but by then Chester was too angry to care. McKenna and Faith came to us later.” She nodded. “They’re adopted, as well.”
Eve let that sink in. “Are they sisters?”
Lila shook her head. “No blood relation.”
“Do you know who their mothers are?”
“I’m their mother,” she said, that iron will in her voice. “Just as I’m your mother. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that you were adopted when you were young. I realize that was a mistake. You were mine. I never thought of you as belonging to anyone else.”
It had begun to rain harder, huge drops splattering against the glass.
“I need to go see Grandma,” Eve said.
“I can understand if you’re angry with her.”
Eve smiled. “I’m not angry.” It was true. She was bruised, exhausted, emotionally wrung out, but she wasn’t angry or even upset. She’d found out the truth. She didn’t want to think at what cost it had come.
She’d discovered a brother she didn’t know she had. A deputy had given them a ride back to Old Town Whitehorse while Carter saw that Wanda Wilson was taken into custody and transported to the hospital. Both Deena and Errol would be going to the morgue.
“I want you to know,” Bridger had said on the way back. “When I came up here, I wasn’t looking to connect with my sister. But I’m glad I found you.” He’d sounded as if saying it had come at a cost.
“I’m glad you did, too.”
“Even if it almost got us both killed,” he’d said with a humorless chuckle. “Would you mind if I stayed around for a while?”
She’d smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “I’d like that.”
She knew, though, that part of the reason he was staying in the area was that he hadn’t given up on finding their mother. He was convinced that someone here knew the truth. He still hoped to find the woman his parents had met that night in the cemetery.
“I’m all right,” Eve told Lila, and smiled as she reached across the table to cover her mother’s hand with her own. “Really, Mom.”
Tears filled Lila Bailey’s eyes. She brushed at them with her free hand. “You’ll want milk with your sandwich.” She rose to go to the refrigerator.
Eve smiled as she watched her, seeing how hard this was on her, how hard it had been over the years. Lila Bailey was her mother. And they were more alike than Eve had ever noticed before, both afraid of showing their emotions, both in love with men who had broken their hearts a long time ago.
She and Lila would never look alike. They didn’t share the same blood or the same DNA, but Eve was a Bailey. And somewhere out there was the woman who’d given her and Bridger birth, given them up in hopes they could have a better life. Eve wanted to find her. Not to find herself, because she’d done that right here.
But to thank her.
THE NEXT MORNING, Carter found his father sitting in the Great Northern Café having breakfast. Loren looked up from a back corner table and smiled, rising to his feet to give his son an awkward hug.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Loren said, motioning to his son to join him. “You want breakfast?”
“Just coffee. Do what?” Carter asked.
 
; “This sheriff thing. You could have been killed yesterday,” his father said, his face pained. “You saved Eve’s and that other man’s life. Is he really her brother?”
Carter nodded. “Not every day is like yesterday.” Thank God.
“How is Eve?”
“She’s going to be all right,” he said, remembering her in his arms. “She’s a strong woman.”
“Like her mother. I should tell you—”
“You’re in love with Lila,” Carter said.
“Yes. Chester has agreed to a divorce. The minute she’s free I intend to marry her.”
Carter nodded, remembering the strained relationship his parents had for years before his mother’s death. “Why didn’t you marry Lila if you’ve always loved her?”
“Our story is a little like yours and Eve’s. Lila and I were young. We had a fight over what her parents were doing. I got drunk and ended up running into Rachel.” He paused. “The next thing I knew your mother was pregnant with Cade. Lila married Chester. I married your mother.”
“I always thought it was the flying,” Carter said.
“It didn’t help,” Loren admitted. “Your mother knew about Lila, knew how I felt. I loved your mother. I just couldn’t love her enough, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do,” Carter said, thinking of Deena. “Dad, I wish you and Lila the best. I mean that.”
“We’ll be going to Florida. Lila wants Eve to have the ranch. She’s already talked to McKenna and Faith about it. They were fine with it since neither had planned to come back here after college.”
“Does Eve know?” he asked.
Loren nodded. “She told her last night. I take it Eve was very happy. She plans to stay.”
Carter poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table and took a drink to hide how relieved he was. Eve was staying. He hadn’t been sure, not after everything that had happened.
The real story about the adoptions hadn’t come out. The story around town was that Charley Cross had been flying to the hospital in Billings to visit a friend when the plane went down with Errol Wilson at the controls. Unbeknownst to Charley, Errol had been running drugs.
When Charley realized what was going on, Errol killed him and let everyone believe Charley had run off to Mexico.
Wanda Wilson never stood trial. She was killed by an irate inmate in the Great Falls jail before she could tell anyone about the adoptions or the drug running.
Everyone who knew the truth was either dead or not talking.
Earlier, Bridger Duvall had stopped by his office.
“What are you going to do about the Sewing Circle?” Bridger Duvall had demanded.
“You have any proof?” Carter had asked.
Duvall swore. “You know Eve Bailey and I were on that plane.”
The sheriff nodded. “But the pilot is dead. So is Charley Cross and Nina Mae has Alzheimers.”
“Lila Bailey knows the truth.”
Carter nodded. “But she isn’t going to bust some old ladies who made it possible for her to adopt her children. If you’re looking for vengeance—”
“Not vengeance, answers. I want to know who my birth mother was and someone in the Whitehorse Sewing Circle knows,” Duvall had said angrily.
“Well, no one is talking. If anyone knew, it was Pearl Cavanaugh.”
Duvall groaned. “You know damned well that she is incapable of talking since her stroke.”
Pearl had a stroke after hearing the news about Errol Wilson’s drug running and attempt on Eve’s and Bridger Duvall’s life.
“Does it matter that much, Bridger? You had parents who loved you. Are you sure you really want to know who gave you birth and under what circumstances?”
“Yes. Eve understands. Did you ask her how she feels about this?” Duvall had asked. “She’s haunted by this, too. You think she is going to let this go?”
Carter hoped she would find peace now that she knew she was adopted, but he feared she had more in common with Bridger Duvall than just being his twin sister.
“I’m going to be sticking around,” Duvall had said.
Carter had nodded. “Eve will like that.”
“The answer is here,” Duvall had said. “I’m not leaving until I find out the truth.”
“Son,” Loren said now. “You’ve never taken my advice.” His father laughed to soften his words. “But I’m going to give you some advice I hope you’ll take to heart. Don’t punish yourself the rest of your life for marrying Deena.”
He had thought Deena would do that. But now she was dead. Maybe at peace, since she’d never been able to find peace on earth.
Her parents, who had moved to Arizona some years ago, had taken her body to be buried there. Carter had told them that Deena died trying to save Eve and Bridger. It was a small lie, but one that he knew gave them some comfort.
“Don’t put off happiness,” Loren continued. “Lila and I intend to enjoy what time we have left. Tell Eve how you feel about her.”
“I have. It’s going to take time, though.”
“You have time,” his father said, and smiled. “You have the rest of your lives.”
Carter finished his coffee and rose from the table. “Eve’s over at the nursing home visiting her grandmother. I thought I’d take her to lunch if she’s interested. Will I see you later?”
“You’ll see a lot more of me. I won’t stay away. Lila and I plan to visit often.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Carter said. And he was. He’d never seen his father so happy. It looked good on him.
Carter quickened his step. The rain had stopped and he could see a little sun peeking through the clouds. He couldn’t wait to see Eve again. Today. Tomorrow. And if he had his way, every day after that.
Epilogue
Charley Cross was buried up on the hill overlooking Old Town Whitehorse one windy hot day at the end of July.
Nina Mae stood at the edge of the grave in her favorite brown coat, wearing the pin Charley had given her. Her back was steel straight, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes as vacant as the blue sky.
Next to her stood Lila Bailey. She wore all black, including the veil that hid her expression. Like her mother, she stood beside the grave, back ramrod straight.
The entire towns of Whitehorse and Old Town, along with half the county, had gathered for the burial. Eve stood with Carter as Titus Cavanaugh, holding his worn Bible, said what a brave man her grandfather had been, how he had done what he believed to be right and died helping others.
Eve searched the crowd gathered under the summer sun, wondering how many of them had been Whitehorse Sewing Circle babies. She felt an odd sense of peace, knowing she wasn’t alone. Knowing what it had cost her grandparents so that she and the others would have homes and parents who loved them.
A part of her knew she would always be looking for the mother who had given her away, searching crowds for a familiar face, listening for a laugh like her own.
Carter squeezed her hand as Titus finished with a prayer.
She squeezed back, happier to have him here than he could know. It would take time, but she knew in her heart that one day they would be together.
As Eve placed a single red rose on the casket, Grandma Nina Mae stepped forward. Lila reached for her, as did several of the mourners.
But Nina Mae only rested her pale hand on the casket, her worn wedding ring glinting in the sunlight. Eve saw tears in her grandmother’s eyes as Nina Mae patted the casket, then turned to look at the crowd as if searching for someone.
“Have you seen my granddaughter?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m here, Grandma,” Eve said, and took the woman’s frail arm.
Her grandmother looked over at her, then placed her hand over Eve’s and patted it. “Yes,” her grandmother said. “You are here, aren’t you?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0237-9
SECRET OF DEADMAN’S COULEE
Copyright © 2007 by Barbara Heinle
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