The Lady Stole My Heart (The Lady is Mine, #2)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “This is Maegan Miracle,” Elijah said proudly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer. “My Freckles.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Markham.”

  “I’ve waited for you for ten years, Maegan. Even longer if I’m being honest. It’s so nice to meet you.” She pulled me into a warm hug, and I knew I had at least one ally in the Markham homestead.

  “CALL ME BRENDA,” MOM SAID to Maegan when they pulled out of the embrace. “You’re every bit as beautiful as Elijah described.”

  Maegan’s face turned a delicate pink shade, and she glanced at me briefly. “Thank you, Brenda.”

  “I wasn’t just referring to your outer beauty either,” Mom told her warmly. “You’re a strong, confident woman. I can tell that by your posture and the way you carry yourself when you walk.” It was true. Maegan might think she had to do that thing with her chin and shoulders, but there was never a need for her to fake anything. She was spectacular all the time. “I can see how much you love my boy when you look at him. That makes a mother very happy.” My mom released a quick sigh and placed a hand over her heart. “Forgive my silliness. I’m just so overjoyed to have both of you here.”

  “Do I smell pot roast?” I asked, sniffing the air.

  “Well, it is your favorite,” Mom replied. “I don’t usually cook something so heavy when it’s this hot out, but this day calls for a celebration.”

  “Mom…” I let my words trail off because I wasn’t sure what to say next. This wasn’t necessarily a start to something special and meaningful.

  “I know, Elijah. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you; I’m just so grateful to see you and meet your special lady.” Mom pulled open the door and gestured for us all to go inside. “There’s no need to melt out here while the house is nice and cool.”

  “When did you get central air?” I asked once we entered the house.

  “Um, I’d say it was five or six years ago. We resisted for so long, but this old woman can’t take these humid summers. Hot flashes are the devil’s work.”

  “I bet it was a big undertaking and a huge expense,” I remarked. I was surprised she never told me about it, but I guess she didn’t want to waste our infrequent phone calls to discuss something like that. Honestly, I missed the old house and would’ve loved to hear updates about the remodeling progress. “That’s not the only thing that changed.”

  “Oh, we took down some old wallpaper and repainted the walls. It wasn’t a lot.”

  Maybe not to her, but she lived through the renovations and saw the changes over time. For me, it was like walking into a totally different home which was both good and bad. I wasn’t flooded with nostalgic and painful memories, because it didn’t seem like the same house where they occurred. On the other hand, I feel like I lost my childhood home and no one told me about it.

  “Furniture is new,” I said cataloging other changes I saw. “You painted over Jack’s and my growth charts.”

  “You both are in your thirties now, Elijah. Surely you didn’t expect me to keep those up forever.”

  Maegan slipped her tiny hand in mine and squeezed my fingers to comfort me. “You have a lovely home, Brenda. Elijah told me it’s been in the family for generations.”

  “Yes, this farm has been in my family for four generations dating back to the civil war,” she said.

  “Mom likes it known that the house came with her bloodline,” I told Maegan. “Dad calls her Scarlett and the homestead Tara.”

  Mom smiled when she heard me slip and say Dad instead of Jack. “Your father sure as hell isn’t Rhett Butler.”

  “I heard that, woman,” a weak, gravelly voice said from the dark corner of the living room situated to the right of the foyer. I hardly recognized my dad’s voice. “Rhett gave up too easily.”

  “Gave up too easily? Did we watch the same movie?” my mom said into the room. “Besides, everyone knows Rhett wasn’t truly done with Scarlett.”

  My dad chuckled then said, “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Is that Elijah?”

  “No, it’s Santa Claus,” Mom fired back. “Of course, it’s him.”

  My mom tipped her head toward the living room, indicating I should go in there. Maegan squeezed my hand to let me know she agreed. It felt like it took me five years to work up my courage to take the first step toward the living room, but circumstances often seemed to speed time up or stretch it into long, awkward pauses.

  I heard rustling in the dark corner followed by a metallic click of someone turning on a lamp. Suddenly, there was a circle of light surrounding my dad’s old, battered recliner. It seemed like not everything changed, and seeing that ancient, busted piece of furniture finally made it feel like I was home. I used to love sitting in that chair when Dad was out because it smelled of his aftershave and bore the shape of his body from many years of wear. That old thing couldn’t be comfortable, but he was too stubborn to give it up.

  Then I looked at him, and I mean really looked. He’d lost so much weight his skin hung on him paper thin and white as a sheet. Dad ran his hand over his bald head like he felt uneasy then pulled his blanket higher to tuck beneath his armpits.

  “Have any trouble on your trip up?” he asked, breaking the silent standoff.

  “No, sir,” I said, feeling like a kid who was being interrogated for being out too long. Some might say I was away for too long.

  “Is this your beautiful lady your mom has been talking about these past six months?” I admit I was shocked to hear my parents talked about me or the things I discussed with Mom.

  “Nah, she’s just a hitchhiker I found along the way.”

  Maegan squeezed my hand then pulled it free of mine. She walked across the room and extended her hand toward him. “I’m Maegan Miracle. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Markham.”

  Dad sat straighter in his chair as Maegan approached and attempted a warm smile. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying when the hand he reached out to her trembled severely. Maegan covered their joined hands with her free one to steady him. Where was the strong, invincible man who had raised me? Who was this imposter who looked to be nothing but skin and bones? Mom placed her hand between my shoulder blades to comfort and steady me which was just what I needed.

  “He’s not going to die, Elijah,” she whispered.

  “Damn right,” Dad said with a shaky voice he probably thought was full of bravado. “Jack Markham might bend, but he doesn’t break.” He waved me over with the hand Maegan wasn’t holding. “Maybe the ladies can go in the kitchen and have a chat so we can have some time alone.”

  “Of course,” Maegan said, gently letting his hand slide from hers. She walked to me, raised up on her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. “If you’re lucky, maybe your mom will share her pot roast secrets with me.”

  “And meatloaf,” I said hopefully.

  “Sounds fun,” Mom said. “Then I’ll get the photo albums out so you can see Elijah during his awkward phase.”

  “Even better,” Maegan said, following Mom out of the room.

  “Pull up a chair,” Dad said.

  I slid an ottoman over from a club chair that I never would have picked for my mom and dad. “I’m not sure what to make of the changes,” I told him. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see your beat-up recliner.”

  “It’s a good thing you like it so much because I’ve left it to you in the will.” He tried to laugh but it turned into a cough. He regained his composure after a minute and said, “Don’t be alarmed if I need to reach for my oxygen. It doesn’t mean I’m dying.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Elijah, I’m not sure where to begin, but an apology seems like a good place to start.”

  Seeing him so sick and weak was horrible, and I didn’t want to cause him any more stress. On the other hand, I needed to hear the words if there was a sliver of a chance for us to repair our broken relationship.

  “There are many things I want to apologi
ze for, but the most important one is that I ever made you feel that you weren’t good enough the way you were. Allowing you to mold yourself into a soldier because you thought it’s what I wanted was just wrong. I should’ve told you I was proud of you for more important things like when you won awards in elementary school for character and citizenship. I should have had tears of pride in my eyes when you were inducted into the National Honor Society and not the sports hall of fame at the high school.” Dad paused to cough again, and I handed him the glass of water from the small table beside his recliner. “Would you look at how tiny this table is?” he said. “It’s barely big enough for a glass of water and the TV guide, but Brenda had to have it because it matched the other pieces.”

  “I think it’s pretty miraculous she let you keep the recliner.”

  “No one tells a man with cancer he can’t have his favorite chair.”

  “There’s that,” I said, tipping my head to the side.

  “The things I said to you in your hospital bed…” Dad’s words drifted off, and he swallowed hard. I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to apologize for every little slight against me, but damn it, I needed him to be sorry. Nobody had ever hurt me like he had, not even Jack who had slept with my wife. “I spoke unforgivable words that day, and I’ve regretted nothing more in my life. I never should’ve implied you needed to suck it up and move on. I was scared I would lose my sons, and I did lose one of them.”

  I had a snappy comeback about how he got to keep his favorite son, but I had to meet the man halfway. “There was no way I could continue on like nothing happened. I couldn’t sit across the table from them without wanting to choke them both.”

  Dad took another long drink of water. “I know, and I had no right to ask it of you.”

  “Why the change? Why apologize now?”

  “I know you think it’s because of the cancer, and it is in part, but I’ve always known I was wrong. I’ve always missed having you here and hearing your voice.” His chin wobbled, and a tear slid down his face. I rubbed a hand over my face to keep from doing the same. “I was a stubborn fool who thought you’d miss us and make the first move. How stupid is that?”

  “I did miss you and Mom.”

  “Staring down death made me realize how foolish I was, and I didn’t like the person I saw in the mirror. I don’t mean because I’m skinny and bald now, I’m talking about my soul. It was ugly and mean. If my time was up, I didn’t want to meet my maker without trying to patch things up between us. If nothing else, I wanted to give you the apology you deserved.”

  “Dad, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You just said a lot right now.” I looked at him in confusion for a minute until I realized I’d called him Dad. “If you ever call me Jack again, I will take a switch to your ass.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Tell me about your life, Elijah. I want to hear about your new job as a detective in a small town. Your mother and I hated you working as an undercover cop in Columbus. We worried about you every damn day. Tell me about your Freckles. That’s what your mother said you call her.”

  I spent the next ninety minutes talking to my dad about my life and all the ways it had changed over the last six months. I told him about Adrian, Gabe, and the rest of the police force. He got a big kick out of the missing chickens and my idea for a sting operation. He laughed until he coughed then laughed until he cried. Mostly, I talked about Maegan. He got a twinkle in his eyes when he heard about how we met. Dad had always liked feisty women, and Maegan was the feistiest I’d ever known.

  Mom called us into dinner, and I wasn’t sure if I should offer to help him up. I didn’t want to step on his pride, but I hated to see him struggle. I waited patiently while he pushed against the armrests of his recliner, but it appeared as if the chair didn’t want to relinquish him. I extended my hand, and he stared at it for a few seconds before accepting my offer. I gently closed my hand around his and helped him up. His frailty and bony hands made me want to cry, but I held it together for him.

  Dad sat at his usual spot at the head of the table and Mom sat at the foot like normal. Maegan and I sat between them on one side, with Maegan next to Mom and me beside my dad. Mom’s pot roast was every bit as delicious as I remembered, and I asked Maegan if she found out why my mom’s roast tasted different than everyone else’s.

  “I sure did,” Maegan said. “I also got her recipe for these homemade dinner rolls.”

  “I can’t wait to be your guinea pig while you try the recipes,” I said, tucking into another bite.

  “Maegan,” my mom said. “Elijah told me you bought a historic home with a resident ghost.”

  Dad snorted. “Elijah doesn’t believe in ghosts, Bren.”

  “I do now, Dad.” That got his attention. “Tell them all about Anthony, Freckles.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m allowed to reveal right now,” Maegan said. “The story might appear on The Paranormal Whisperer, and I’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement.”

  “Oh my,” Mom said. “We wouldn’t want you to tell us anything you’re not allowed to.”

  “Why don’t I tell you what’s already been made public then you can see the conclusion for yourselves on the show.”

  “That sounds fair,” Dad said, leaning forward and propping his elbow on the table. Mom never permitted any of us, including him, to prop our elbows on the table. It was a sign of how much they’d been through the last few months while he underwent chemo treatment.

  Maegan wove the tale of Anthony Bliss establishing the town and starting a new life, hoping to outrun the curse on the Bliss family. She talked about how progressive her hometown used to be, and how Anthony and his good friend, Wallace Bennington III, helped make it happen. My mom and dad held onto her every word as she talked about Anthony’s sudden and unexplainable disappearance.

  “The other fella disappeared too?” Dad asked.

  “Well, he sold all of his holdings and moved to San Francisco. I don’t think anyone in the town ever looked for him after that.”

  “I have a theory,” my dad said. “I bet those two fellas ran away together.” I nearly choked on my hunk of roast. “What? You think I’m out of touch. You think I wasn’t aware I served in Vietnam with men who were attracted to other men? It never bothered me beyond they had to pretend to be something they weren’t. That’s the unnatural part if you ask me.”

  “I’ve never heard you talk like this,” I said. Had I mentioned to Mom that Maegan’s twin was a gay man? I was certain I hadn’t.

  “Did you ever hear me say mean or nasty things about gays and lesbians while you were growing up?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “Parents didn’t talk openly to their kids about things like that back then.”

  “Dad, I grew up in the nineteen eighties and nineties, not the eighteen eighties and nineties.”

  “I know, Son,” he said, waving me off. “Listen, I guess we should’ve done a lot of things differently in this house when you boys were growing up. Maybe the events that led to our divide never would’ve happened if I’d been a better father.”

  “Dad, neither you nor Mom were responsible for what happened. I had a wonderful, happy childhood. You might not have been the kind of dad to read bedtime stories and watch Christmas shows with us, but you taught us by example. The first thing you did every night was kiss Mom hello and make her giggle before you’d rumple our hair and ask us about our day. You demanded that we show women respect at all times. You worked extra jobs when crop prices were down so we could have the things we needed. I’ve taken those lessons and applied them to my life. Jack’s actions are all on him, not you.”

  “Knock knock,” came a soft voice from the foyer. Maegan stiffened beside me, and I knew it was because she thought Brandy had stopped by. I reached for her hand beneath the table and brought it to my lips for a kiss.

  “We’re in here, Daphne,” Mom said.

  A petite brunette with big brown eye
s and hair pulled back in a ponytail walked into the kitchen. “Hello. I’m so sorry to interrupt dinner. I just wanted to drop off the casserole dish I borrowed before it never made it back.”

  “No problem,” Mom told her. “Are you hungry? We have plenty.”

  “Oh, heavens no. I’ll just go set this on the kitchen counter and be on my way.” She dropped a kiss on my mom’s head then circled around to do the same for my dad before she left the room. Who the hell was this woman who knew my parents so well? I might’ve thought she was a homecare nurse until she kissed them affectionately. She popped her head back in the dining room when she was finished putting the dish back. “All done.”

  “Daphne, this is Elijah, Jack’s younger brother.”

  “I figured as much,” she said warmly. “It’s nice to meet you, Elijah.”

  “Likewise,” I said, although I had no clue who the hell I was meeting. “This is my girlfriend, Maegan.”

  “Hello,” Maegan said cheerfully but looked as confused as I felt.

  “Good to meet you, Maegan. I need to be on my way. Have a good night, everyone.”

  “You too,” we all called out after her.

  Mom and Dad went back to eating while Freckles and I shrugged at one another. “Um, who was that?”

  “That’s Daphne,” Dad said.

  “She’s Jack’s girlfriend,” Mom added. “They’ve been dating for a few years now. The kids love her.”

  “You weren’t the only Markham Brandy fucked over,” Dad said. “At least you didn’t have kids to tie you to her for the rest of your life like Jack does.” Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? “He also learned that being a single parent isn’t so great, but at least the kids are happy and cared for with him.”

  “Jack has custody of the kids?” I asked.

  “She didn’t even put up a fight because she’d found the next sucker who thought she was a prize,” Dad fumed. “She moved to New York City. Good riddance, I say. That hateful woman has caused this family enough pain.”

  “Jack,” Mom admonished.

  Maegan set her fork down. “Don’t sugarcoat it on my behalf, Jack. I’ve dreamed about scratching that bitch’s eyes out every night since I learned about her existence.”