by LoRee Peery
Sage stood aside so Lanae could hand a glass of water to the woman she addressed as Kate.
Lanae looked as emotional as Kate sounded, as though the older woman’s story threatened to turn them both into blubbering globs.
“I moved to Platteville, and I never left again.”
“Did you ever find out what happened?” Geneva asked from the doorway, handing a fleece blanket to Moselle.
“I never saw my Teddy again. And I’ve wondered all these years why I’m even alive.” Silent tears streamed in a river down her face. “I’ve lived a lifetime of emptiness. I didn’t really want to go on living without him.”
Sage had to get out before he heard the woman repeat Ted’s last name. Somehow, he hoped to keep that knowledge to himself.
“Sorry to show up at such a bad time. You women seem to have this under control.” Sage knew the strong family would care for the older woman.
Moselle caught up with him at the back entrance. “Aunt Lanae’s pretty shook up at the moment. To be honest, I’m a bit shaken myself. She tried so hard to discover who Katherine is, and then to have her just land in our laps, so to speak, is beyond weird.”
Moselle fiddled with both earrings, as though checking to see if the silver feathers bobbed where she had put them. “Now I apologize. I came back to see if you wanted me to tell Aunt Lanae anything?”
“Nope. I picked up my new saddle, and I thought she might like to see it. Came through the alley door because I know she sometimes works back there. I’ll catch you all another time.” Sage left the way he had arrived. The alley door bounced open while he was trying to shut it.
“Sage, thank you! It was a God-thing, you appearing when I thought Kate and I would both topple over. It’s stranger than fiction.”
He let Lanae ramble, acting clueless.
“Poor Kate. Years ago, when Geneva told me about the way Kate kept gossip alive regarding Moselle and Eric’s high school history, I figured she was a busybody with nothing better to do. Labels can be so wrong. I never considered Kate had a reason to be so unhappy. Her life ended when her dear Ted disappeared.”
And my mother’s life became new once she was free from my grandfather’s abuse.
When Lanae looked deep into Sage’s eyes with such trust, he had to turn away. He was unable to put a description to what he read on her face, but it was all female emotion. This particular female wanted things he couldn’t give.
She hugged him quick and released him. “We’ll talk later, OK?” And then she shut the door.
Sage didn’t want to get wrapped up in it. He wasn’t used to so much drama. He had to sort this all out, get it straight in his mind. Yet he knew it was only a matter of time before Lanae, and Lezlie, for that matter, discovered the truth.
11
The only way to stop fear is to pass it up on the way to a successful life.
Lanae spoke before Lezlie finished answering her phone. “I have Ted’s last name! It’s Tippin. I can hardly wait to run a Google search. And would you believe, Katherine, the letter writer, is someone we know! In fact, she’s Kate Rawlins, the woman most of Platteville considers the town gossip.” She paused to give Lezlie a chance to respond.
“That’s great. I could go online tonight if you like.”
“Since this involves your family, sure. Go for it! I’m kind of feeling off, maybe I used too much energy over all the excitement we had in the shop earlier. Your dad was here and carried poor Kate through to the office. I thought she was going to collapse.”
“He gets around. Suppose his saddle’s finished.”
“That’s exactly why he stopped, according to Moselle, to show off his new saddle. But in all the confusion, he made a hasty retreat.”
They shared a laugh and Lezlie added, “Dad doesn’t do well with tearful women in crisis.”
“I guessed as much. So do you know Ted Tippin? Is he related to you?”
“For some reason the name rings a distant bell. Dad’s always been closemouthed about his family, though. I can hardly wait to check it out. Sounds like some kind of family skeleton in the closet.”
“Family secrets have a way of coming out eventually, even if they miss a generation or two.” Lanae waited a beat, but the younger woman made no comment. She’d heard once that people’s lives were affected by what their ancestors did while alive.
Sage must have a family secret.
Lanae bid Lezlie a hasty good-bye.
She retied her Frivolities apron strings, and tried to find something to tidy or straighten in the window where the vanity held court. But it looked perfect.
Except for turning Kate Rawlins’ life upside down.
And mine.
She considered Kate’s unfulfilled longing for a life with her Ted.
And remembered the way Sage had scooped Kate up.
Her breathing and pulse rate quickened. With all of her heart, Lanae wanted to be held safe in Sage’s arms. She closed her eyes, imagined him sweeping her off her feet, tucked in snug against the pounding of his heart.
Lord, like it or not, my secret longing is for Sage. I’m more and more aware of the reawakening passionate side of my nature. I want Sage, but I don’t know if Sage is what You want for me.
All our lives are in Your hands, Lord. If some dark secret is about to emerge, please give us all the grace to see it through, especially Sage.
Geneva and Moselle were somewhere. Lanae took advantage of the quiet due to the lack of customers. She left the door open so she could hear the bell above the front door and wove her way up the meandering painted vines on the loft steps. From a shelf of the cabinet next to her recliner, she dug out one of her copied letters, tucked away inside a quilted book jacket Geneva had made.
As heartrending as the whole day had been, with Kate falling to pieces over sight of the letter and remembering Ted’s disappearance, hadn’t her own heartstrings been torn up enough?
Yet she chose to read.
July 5, 1960
Tuesday 4 a.m.
Dearest Teddy,
Isn’t it something that Hawaii is our 50th state now? Are we living history or what?
I can’t imagine why you would stand me up.
I’m frantic with worry.
These weeks not getting to be with you, I’m sick inside.
I even got brave enough to make a long distance call to your house, but there was no answer, just a lot of clicks on the party line from your neighbors. Can’t they let a person have a call of their own?
Please, please, let me know that you are all right.
Be good, Sweet. Lots of love and kisses.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Katherine
P.S. (Or maybe you aren’t so dear at the moment.)
****
Sage stood at the mantle in his great room, holding the silver framed photograph of Becca. Life felt all off kilter again, the way it had after he’d lost her.
“I wish you were here to help me sort this all out. I’d have to tell you the story first. And, baby, I did keep it from you.”
He ran his thumb over the image of her deep red hair, the glass feeling cold and lifeless. Sage set the picture back in place. He picked up his coffee mug from the side table between the dark brown leather recliner and couch, but the coffee was cold.
At loose ends, he stared out the window.
Pictures. He had real-life photographs of his wife, but he carried around a mental picture of Uncle Ted. One of the things he remembered most was the way Ted Tippin peeled his oranges. No one else in the world, to Sage’s knowledge, peeled their oranges that way.
There was a definite, unexplained ritual to the procedure including the way his uncle had folded kitchen linen to catch the juice. He used a handmade pearl-handled paring knife, always the same one, to section the peel before removing it. Once the peel was lifted from the orange, Uncle Ted proceeded to remove every seed, every vein, and every tiny piece of pulp, to leave only the meat of
each section.
Later, after his mother had talked about the abuse at the hands of Ted’s father, Sage had always figured that precise way of peeling an orange was Uncle Ted’s way of taking his father apart, piece by piece.
The ringing phone interrupted his musings, and Sage snagged the mug of cold coffee on his way to the kitchen.
“Dad, Lanae called about Ted Tippin. I know I’ve heard the name before, maybe when I was a really little girl. Is he someone in our family?”
And there it was. Finally out in the open.
He tossed the coffee into the sink, wishing he could toss away bitterness so easy. “Yeah. I guess it’s time I spilled some of the past. It’ll solve nothing at this point. And it’ll leave a bad taste in your mouth.”
“I’ll come out later. Can I bring anything?”
“Not a thing. On second thought, maybe Jax. That way I won’t have to tell the story a second time.”
Two hours later, he opened the door to welcome not only his family, but Lanae, who followed Lezlie and Jaxson up the drive.
Sage had no time to figure out what he thought about Lanae’s unannounced intrusion.
Lezlie answered before he asked. “I’m not sorry, Dad. She’s part of this because she found our family letters.”
He leaned down for Lezlie’s kiss and a beat later, accepted the covered dish Lanae handed him. With his hands occupied, she kissed him. Smack dab on the lips. Smack dab in front of his daughter and grandson, leaving Sage speechless.
She turned her attention to Jaxson.
Lezlie made the introductions. “Lanae, this is my son, Jaxson.”
“I would have known you right off, pleased to meet you. Hope you like cheesecake as much as your granddad. I’ve got a peanut butter one with chunks of candy bar on top.”
Jaxson’s blush deepened. Under different circumstances, Sage would have kidded his grandson.
Lanae stumbled through the door, more as if she was ill rather than losing her footing.
“Hey. You OK? I’d hate to drop the goods here to catch you.”
“I’m fine. Fatigued is all. Achy joints and muscles. Figure some weather is coming in. I can’t help but remember the headaches, stress, and appetite fluctuations that were sure signs of an over-worked liver.”
Sage scowled. “What are you talking about? And why are you here if you’re sick?”
“It’s not like I’m contagious. I’m taking some herbals to ward off anything.” She whipped out a small bottle of hand sanitizer. “And I have this in case you all think I might have something.”
“Becca had enough sickness to last me a lifetime. Are you sure you’re cured?”
“Cured of what?” Jaxson wanted to know.
“Hepatitis C,” Lanae said, finally taking the covered container back from Sage, who gladly handed it over in exchange for their coats.
He caught Lanae looking at Lezlie for direction.
Lezlie led their guest to the kitchen side of the long granite-covered counter that divided the expansive room’s living area.
Acting nervous, Lanae continued to talk while the women served the dessert. “Hepatitis C is usually contracted years before symptoms show, so we walk around without a clue that we can be dead men and women walking.” She glanced at Sage then included them all. “I’m sorry if this touches a nerve. Anyway, when we do know why we’re sick, we live up on the mountain top one moment and down in the deep valley next, grieving for our health just like we do when we lose a loved one.” Lanae again met his gaze, offering a challenge without words.
“You know,” Sage spoke up. “We’ve got enough to talk about tonight without details of your illness. I’ve told you before. I don’t have room in my life for another sick woman.”
“Dad, behave.” Lezlie handed him a plate with three slivers of different cheesecakes.
“It’s fine. Illness causes people to react in different ways, but…” Lanae’s voice trailed off.
Sage made an effort to relax his tense facial muscles.
“Praise God, Sage, I’m healed now. My body didn’t fall to the disgusting disease. And I take homeopathic medicines to keep my liver healthy. I’ll probably take them for the rest of my life, just to make sure.”
“It was tough watching Mom fade away,” Lezlie said softly. “She suffered horribly. Maybe we don’t talk about it enough.”
Sage hugged Lezlie in passing. His daughter liked to view things from all perspectives.
“You don’t talk about stuff,” Jaxson said, rolling a huge bite of cheesecake around in his mouth. “I hardly know anything about when Grandma was sick.”
Sage had one agenda for the evening. “Nobody came out here to talk about Becca. I’ve got another family situation to get out into the open.”
“I’ll end my part of this unpleasantness. I’ve forgotten to eat on a regular basis.” Lanae blazed a smile at the Diamonds in turn. “I really will be fine. After a good night’s rest.”
She put an explanation point on her statement when she plopped a white chocolate curl onto her tongue. She licked chocolate off her finger, holding Sage’s gaze throughout. Then she blotted her lips with the back of her hand, turned to wash at the sink before running a tall glass of water from the tap.
Earthy, yet all female. Sage couldn’t help but watch her at-home woman-in-the-kitchen movements. But he wouldn’t be distracted. He had to spill dirt from the past. Yet he scowled at Lanae.
Lanae spoke between sips of water. “Let’s be done with it.”
Sage figured Lanae was trying to lighten the tension so he could go about his disclosure. “Let’s all find a seat.”
He gave them a moment, not a whit surprised that Lanae followed him around the counter and chose to sit next to him on the deep cushions of the dark brown leather couch.
Jaxson bounded into the recliner, and Lezlie perched to attention on the stone hearth.
Sage spoke to the image smiling from the mantel, wishing he had told Becca the story while she lived. “Tippin is my mother’s maiden name. Her dad’s name was Earl. My grandmother’s name was Juanita, and the dresser belonged to her before she gave it to my mother, Violet.”
His unsteady hand rattled the fork against the plate. “My uncle’s name is Ted. Ted Tippin.”
Lanae gasped.
Sage set his plate down, no more appetite for anything. What he really wanted to do, but couldn’t, was pull Lanae in close to his side. He could use a little warmth when his heart felt so cold and bitter. But this whole revelation was Lanae’s fault.
“My mother said my Grandpa Earl was tough. And a mean old coot.” Sage fisted his hands on his thighs. “I never saw that side of him, maybe because he’d mellowed by the time I came around. But he liked to be rough on his family, verbally abusive to the women. Physically to my uncle Ted. He’d been a blacksmith all his life and had arms bigger than my thighs.”
He cleared his throat, wishing he was outside riding. Anywhere but here. He settled his gaze on the image of Becca. “Granddad was murdered on July Fourth, 1960. The same day Uncle Ted disappeared.”
12
Life is tough. But with the grace of God, I’m tougher.
Lanae’s face felt swollen from tears that had fallen throughout the emotional day. Sage’s revelation started the waterworks all over again.
She now stood in silence, longing for her own familial hugs, while Sage bid his daughter and grandson goodnight.
Lezlie had also cried over her father’s family revelation. She wiped tears away when she squeezed Sage. They exchanged cheek kisses. Sage kept an arm over her shoulders.
Poor Sage. He’d surely had his limit of tearful women for the day. First Kate, then Lezlie, now she felt like a blubbering mess.
She chuckled when Sage ruffled Jaxson’s hair before pulling him into a side embrace. They prepared to leave.
The threesome filed through the door into the crisp, black night.
More tears threatened Lanae when the loneliness hit. She had n
o immediate family of her own, only Geneva and Moselle. Both of them had someone to love, and to love them in return.
Sage was so blessed. But did he realize it, or did he prefer to focus on his loss of Becca?
Through the window, Lanae could see Jaxson drop his chin and smooth the hair Sage had mussed. No one grinned or said anything flippant about the teen’s actions, a clear testimonial as to how each adult was caught up in his or her own thoughts.
Sage crossed the threshold to return inside then stepped back outside. “Watch out for deer, honey.”
Lanae lifted her crocheted poncho from the coat rack as Sage closed the door.
“Wait.” Sage took the wrap from her hands. “Stay a while, please?”
Why would he want her to stay?
“I could use some company.” He answered her question as though he’d read her mind.
Lanae had the impression Sage had held something back while revealing the literal skeleton-in-the-closet of the Tippin family. Would he tell her more family secrets?
“I’ll stay if you agree to show me the rest of your lovely home.”
She’d had a hard time reading Sage all evening. While sitting close to him on the sofa, she sensed him reaching out to her on some invisible level, yet his gaze had riveted on the image of his dead wife.
At the moment, in the quiet of her heart, lay an assurance that God wanted her and Sage to share an earthly destiny.
With obvious reluctance, he wanted her there.
She padded across the earth-toned area rug of the great room to gaze at the picture that graced the mantle shelf. Firelight brought golden cheeks to the woman in the photograph. “She’s lovely. Except for her eyes, Lezlie is the spitting image.”
With her peripheral vision, she saw Sage nod.
Judging by the way he’d stared at the picture while he talked about the Tippin family, Lanae guessed Sage opened up to Becca’s picture a lot.
Her physical reminders of Keith were all tucked away.
Sage spoke after a brief silence filled only by the swishing dishwasher. “First, I apologize for my bluntness earlier. A chunk of my heart is missing. Most of the time I think I’ll never be whole again. For a long time after she was gone, I imagined Becca in another room of the house. Then I’d search her out to find the room empty.”
