A Home of Her Own

by Brenda Novak

  “There is something you should know, Celeste.”

  He saw a hint of fear in her expression as she turned, smoothed her nightgown and squared her shoulders. “What’s that?”

  “I did have an affair. Once. A long time ago.”

  The ensuing pause stretched his nerves taut.

  “How long ago?” she finally asked, her voice now choked with the fear he’d seen in her face.

  “Two and a half decades.”

  Her chest lifted as though she’d just drawn a deep breath. “That is a long time ago.”

  It wasn’t long enough. No amount of time seemed capable of dulling his remorse.

  “Did she mean anything to you?”

  He thought of Red’s notations—Favorite dessert: Pecan Pie—and almost laughed out loud. “No. I got confused and made a terrible mistake, for which—” he struggled to control his voice “—for which I’m very sorry. I’ve been sorry ever since. I should’ve told you long before now.”

  She crossed the room and put her arms around him, drawing his head against the soft folds of her stomach. She smelled so familiar, so sweet and comfortable, he couldn’t help closing his eyes and simply breathing her in. His marriage wasn’t perfect. It never had been. But he and Celeste had been together for forty years, and she was a good woman. He’d done the right thing in staying with her. He knew that now.

  “It’s okay, Garth,” she said. “We’re not always everything we want to be.”

  Garth got the impression she was acknowledging her own weaknesses in that statement as well as his, and loved her all the more for it. She knew. She knew he’d been disappointed in certain areas of their marriage and she accepted responsibility for it.

  What a big person—someone he could definitely admire.

  He almost told her about Lucky…but caught himself. He didn’t want her to have to deal with something that might not be a problem. Before he said any more, he had to find out if Lucky was his daughter. Soon.

  “Thank you, Celeste,” he murmured.

  “I love you, Garth.”

  He felt the first peace he’d known since Lucky’s call, and the physical aspect of his and Celeste’s relationship suddenly meant far less to him than the comfort and support she’d always offered. “I love you, too.”

  MIKE PACED his brother’s office. “It’s been two weeks.”

  Josh dropped his pen, propped his hands behind his head and stretched out his legs. “You want to fill me in on what you’re talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. I haven’t heard from her. Has she contacted you?”

  “She?”

  “Lucky.” Moving to the edge of Josh’s desk, Mike thrust his hands in his pockets and kept a close eye on his brother’s face. “If she has, you’d tell me, right? You wouldn’t hold out on me in some misguided attempt to appease Mom and Dad—”

  Josh rocked forward. “Hey, slow down, big brother. I wouldn’t hold out on you. I told you I’d let you know if Lucky called. She hasn’t.”

  Mike went back to pacing. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since she left, not that he’d been sleeping all that well before. She’d wreaked havoc on his orderly, peaceful life. But now that she was gone, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He kept thinking he’d hear from her, have the chance to convince her to come back, deal with the house, take a more measured and thoughtful approach to the future. But she hadn’t contacted him or anyone else he knew of, and worry was quickly overtaking all other emotions.

  “She has to be out of money by now,” he said. “Her monthly check is waiting in my office. I can’t mail it because I don’t have an address to send it to.”

  “She’s probably fine. She arranged for an equity loan against the house, remember? She could be living on that.”

  “Fred Sharp told me she left him a check in an envelope taped to the wall. He’s already been paid in full.”

  “Maybe she borrowed more than she paid him.”

  “According to Byron Reese down at the bank, she didn’t—at least not much more.”

  “Byron Reese gave out that information?”

  Mike scowled. “Come on, this is Dundee. Privacy in lending isn’t an issue when everyone already knows everyone else’s business. How’s she getting by?”

  “I don’t know,” Josh said with a shrug. “You’ve been frantic ever since she took off and you’re only getting worse, but I can’t help you. She didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

  Mike had tried searching Boise. It was the only place he knew to look, the closest “big” city in Idaho. In the first two days after she left, he’d called every hotel or motel in the area, but had come up empty. He’d even driven down there and prowled the streets and local hangouts. He’d known it was a hopeless endeavor, but it was better than sitting around Dundee doing nothing.

  “What should I tell her if she does call?” Josh asked.

  “Put her on hold and get me. Or jot down a number where I can reach her.”

  “What if she just wants an offer on the house?”

  “Don’t give her one. If she wants to sell that house, she’s going to have to deal with me.”

  “She could always list it with Fred Winston and sell it to someone else.”

  Mike didn’t like the fact that she could do any number of things besides come back. But he was betting she’d eventually contact him about the house. Despite what he’d originally believed, she cared as much about the Victorian as he did. And she cared about him.

  “She’ll call,” he said, trying to keep his hopes up.

  WAS THIS PHOENIX? If so, it wasn’t the better part of the city.

  Lucky stared through a dirty motel window at the crumbling blacktop parking lot that was empty except for a few banged-up cars, including an old Oldsmobile that had a flat tire. Judging by the mobile-home park that served as a retirement community across the street, the flatness of the surrounding land, and the desert plants and pale rock below her window, it sure as hell wasn’t Oregon. She’d already been to Oregon. And Utah. And California. She couldn’t remember where else. The states were beginning to blur. Road signs didn’t matter much when you didn’t know where you were headed in the first place. She just kept driving and drinking coffee and blasting the stereo to drown out her thoughts, then driving some more, finally checking into little hole-in-the-wall motels. She could scarcely recall the past three weeks, except for the pain she felt every time she woke up and realized she’d never see Mike again.

  The heater in the corner kicked on with a noisy rattle. Closing the drapes against the cloudy day, she fell back onto her bed and gazed up at the cottage-cheese ceiling. She tried to occupy her mind by asking herself how anyone had ever found the white, sparkling substance above her attractive enough to spray on almost every ceiling built in the seventies. But visions of Mike touching her, kissing her, crept in. As usual. Whenever she shut her eyes, she saw his face, felt his warm skin against her own—

  Time to go. Shoving herself off the bed before the crushing pain could incapacitate her, she started stuffing her belongings into the backpack she’d brought in from the car. She couldn’t stay here anymore, couldn’t even stop long enough to volunteer for a few days. She had to keep moving, keep driving…forget.

  Maybe New Mexico would feel more like home.

  Somehow she doubted it.

  “WHERE’S MIKE?” Barbara asked, pinning Josh with a searching look the moment he, his wife and baby Brian came into the house.

  Josh glanced awkwardly at Rebecca before responding. “He told me to tell you he can’t make it for dinner today.”

  Over the past few weeks, when Mike hadn’t shown up for their usual Sunday dinner, Barbara had put a brave face on her disappointment. Today she couldn’t seem to manage the effort. “Again? He hasn’t been here for weeks.”

  “He’s pretty busy,” Josh said. “Breeding season’s nearly upon us and—”

  “Breeding season has never interfered before.”<
br />
  Normally Barbara took Brian the moment she laid eyes on him. She worshipped her grandson. But she was too upset and preoccupied right now. When the baby started to fuss, Josh handed him to Rebecca instead. “If you want to know the truth, Mom, I’m a little worried about Mike.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s miserable.”

  “Miserable? He’s always been happy in the past.”

  “Well, he’s miserable now.” Josh put the diaper bag on the floor, next to the wall. “I think he’s in love with Lucky.”

  Barbara clutched her chest. She’d expected Josh to say something about Lucky. He’d been trying to talk to her about Red’s daughter ever since Lucky had left town. He’d said Mike wasn’t the same, that Mike cared about her, but Barbara couldn’t believe he cared too much. Mike would get over Lucky in a matter of weeks. He respected women, treated them well, but he never fell too hard.

  “Love’s a strong word, Josh,” she said.

  “I know, but there it is,” he replied. “I doubt Mike even realizes what’s wrong with him, but he can’t think of anything or anyone else. I’m sure that’s part of the reason he’s not here today. He’s hoping she’ll call and he doesn’t want to miss her if she does.”

  “That’s silly,” Barbara said. “He’s not here because he’s still angry at your father about that little spat they had a few weeks ago. Larry?”

  Hearing his name, her husband muted the football game he was watching on television half a room away. “What?”

  “You called Mike, right? Told him you’re not holding a grudge?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mike just hasn’t forgiven him yet,” Barbara said.

  Rebecca’s expression plainly revealed that she agreed with Josh. “I’m not so sure that’s it.”

  Barbara remembered Lucky standing at the door. Does he care about you?…No…it was all me…

  Strange words from someone who wanted to hurt her…

  Barbara’s conversation with Lucky nagged at her late at night, as did the lovesick expression she’d seen in Lucky’s eyes. But Barbara couldn’t think about that. Lucky was gone. For good. Mike had never fallen in love before; he wasn’t in love now. Certainly not with Red’s daughter. He’d eventually meet and marry someone else. And if Lucky loved him as much as she said she did—well, that was unfortunate. As a good Christian woman, Barbara wished Lucky no harm. She just wanted Red, and everything to do with her, out of her life.

  Tightening her apron, she finally managed a brittle smile. “He’ll forget her,” she insisted. “Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE PHONE RANG.

  Pulling himself out of a light sleep, Mike lunged toward it. Lucky. This late, it had to be her. She was finally calling….

  “Hello?” he said eagerly.

  “Mike?”

  It was his mother. Slumping back onto his pillows, he cleared his throat to buy enough time to keep the disappointment from leaking into his voice. “Hi, Mom. Something wrong?”

  “No, I was just up late, puttering around the house, and thought I’d give you a call. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  He squinted at his glowing alarm clock. She couldn’t have called earlier? It was nearly eleven-thirty on a Sunday night. “Not really,” he said, because he knew the past few weeks hadn’t been any easier on her than they had on him. “I only dozed off a few minutes ago. What’s up?”

  “We missed you at dinner earlier.”

  So that was it—she was upset about dinner. He hadn’t skipped out to make any kind of statement. He simply couldn’t sit through another dinner and pretend, as she obviously wanted to, that nothing had changed. “I had a lot of work to do, stuff that’s been piling up,” he said vaguely.

  “Are you still angry with your father?”

  Mike wasn’t sure he had a right to be angry. Considering what he’d thought of Lucky in the past, he couldn’t blame Larry for his reaction. Of course his father felt betrayed. Mike would have felt the same in Larry’s shoes. “No. Dad called and we talked about it.” He rolled away from the glowing digits of his clock. “How’s he feeling now?”

  “He’s putting the past behind him.”

  “Good.”

  “I think we should all do that.”

  “It’s probably best,” Mike agreed.

  “So you’re okay?”

  “I’m great. Just busy. Breeding season’s around the corner and—”

  “Business picks up,” she finished. “I know.”

  A strained silence fell between them. “Well, I’d better let you get to bed,” Mike said.

  “Josh seems to think you’re in love with Lucky,” she blurted out. “Is that even a possibility, Mike?”

  Mike opened his mouth to deny it. But he couldn’t. He knew it was true. “My feelings don’t matter,” he said. “She’s gone.”

  “She hasn’t called, then.”

  “Not once.”

  “If she were to contact you, what would you say to her?”

  He hesitated. He knew his mother wouldn’t want to hear the truth, but he’d already tried to dodge her. This time he couldn’t keep from voicing the two words that sprang immediately to his lips—probably because he’d said them to Lucky so often in his mind. “Come home.”

  “What?”

  Mike made no reply.

  “You’re not saying she could become my daughter-in-law someday….”

  He might have reacted to the panic in his mother’s voice. But the idea of marrying Lucky hit him like a club over the head. He’d been so busy trying to fight his attraction to her, trying to minimize what he felt for her, that he’d never allowed himself to imagine anything permanent. Now he pictured her smiling up at him as he slipped his ring on her finger, and felt a tremendous surge of pride and desire.

  “Well?” his mother pressed.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “We’re wrong for each other in every way.” He blinked up at the ceiling. “Except…”

  “Except?” she echoed weakly.

  Mike remembered Lucky’s “I don’t need you” look, the one she used to reject people before they could reject her, and couldn’t help smiling to himself. “Except the one that matters most.”

  MIKE USED A PEN to trace the number he’d jotted down a few minutes earlier. According to Rob Strickland from the telephone company, Lucky had made only two calls to the state of Washington while staying at the Victorian, both to the same number. Which meant it belonged to one of her brothers. Lucky had mentioned that she and Sean and Kyle weren’t particularly close, but it’d been more than three weeks since she’d left. Surely they’d know how to contact her by now.

  “Hello?”

  It had been so many years since Mike had spoken to Kyle or Sean that he couldn’t place the voice. “Sean?”

  “Kenny.”

  Feeling the tension of approaching someone he’d always considered an enemy, Mike got up from his desk and crossed the room to gaze out his back window at the barn below. He’d thought a lot about making this call. Lucky had left and wasn’t looking back. If he wanted a clean break, to go on as he was before she’d returned, he could do that now.

  But he didn’t want to go on as he’d been; he couldn’t. He wanted Lucky, and he knew he’d contact anyone and everyone who might be able to help him find her. “This is Mike Hill.”

  The sudden silence seemed deafening, but then, he’d expected a chilly response.

  “What can I do for you, Mike?” Kyle’s voice sounded clipped. Mike had purchased the land Morris had left to both Kyle and Sean almost as soon as they’d inherited it, but that wasn’t the full extent of their past dealings. There’d been many times when the animosity between Mike and Josh, and Sean and Kyle, had almost come to blows, usually at the Honky Tonk, when Sean had consumed too much alcohol. Fortunately, Kyle had always pulled his brother outside and driven him home.

  But that was years ago, Mike reminded
himself, better forgotten. “I’m looking for Lucky,” he said.

  “Lucky?”

  “Your sister?”

  “Isn’t she staying next door?” Kyle’s confusion seemed authentic, heightening Mike’s concern. Could something have happened to her?

  “She left here almost a month ago. You haven’t heard from her?”

  “No. Is there some sort of problem?”

  Mike hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her, which had definitely turned out to be a bit of a problem. But he didn’t feel inclined to share that with Kyle. “Not that I know of. I just…” What could he say? Your little sister’s too young for me, but I can’t live without her? It was true…. “She mentioned that she might be ready to sell the house. I was hoping to get in touch.”

  “With another offer.”

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  “Just have her call me when you hear from her, okay?”

  Kyle obviously didn’t like the answer he’d received. “Maybe I will and maybe I won’t,” he said and hung up.

  Mike frowned as he walked back to his desk and placed the phone in its cradle. Obviously, Lucky’s family didn’t like him any more than his family liked her.

  LUCKY’S HEART POUNDED so hard she could scarcely hear above it. The in-home pregnancy test she’d purchased at a nearby grocery store boasted that it could be used as early as the first day after a missed period. But she didn’t have to worry about testing too soon. Although she’d never really bothered to keep close track of her menstrual cycle, she’d always been regular. She was pretty sure she should’ve started her period three weeks ago.

  According to the pamphlet that came with the test, the display on the little plastic indicator would read “Pregnant” one minute after testing and “Not pregnant” inside of three. She knew she’d have her answer soon—but sixty seconds had never lasted so long. Mouth dry, eyes riveted on the little oval where, barring an “error” code, the words would appear, she told herself to pray for a negative result. She hadn’t expected this kind of complication. She didn’t have a home or any real direction in her life, and she certainly didn’t want to raise a child in the homeless shelters where she often volunteered. She had no support from family or friends. No business having a child.