Texas Roads (A Miller's Creek Novel)

by Bryant, Cathy

  Ignoring the mound of paperwork on the desk, he dragged himself to his feet and gathered his things. He’d grab a meal and a quick nap then tackle the work this afternoon. As he reached the door the phone jangled.

  “Your Mom’s leaving us, son.” The urgent cry in his father’s voice snatched the air from his lungs. “You need to get here quick.”

  ~~o~~

  Nothing made sense.

  Dani attempted to glean answers from her fog-stricken brain, but the fatigue made it impossible. She’d done something to upset everyone, but what? More tears leaked from beneath her eyelids and made their way to her chin. Why had her efforts to help landed her in such a predicament? Surely there was a way to clear up this misunderstanding. Then again, it might just be further proof of what she’d suspected all along. She was impossible to love.

  Haunted by Steve’s expression from last night at the fire, she rubbed at the furrows on her forehead. The hurt and disappointment in his eyes when Andy had stepped from the shadows ripped through her like a chainsaw. She’d longed to tell him the truth, to explain, but she couldn’t. Not without giving away the very secret she’d worked so hard to keep.

  She laid a hand across her chest, her heart feeling like someone had mistaken it for a bug and squished it under the toe of their boot. Last night’s fire was a tragedy, but she couldn’t deviate from the original plan no matter how much she missed Steve.

  Dani brought her wrist close to check the time. Almost an hour had elapsed since Mama Beth stormed into the house to make coffee. What was she doing? Roasting and grinding her own coffee beans? As if on cue, the door squeaked and slammed. Mama Beth bustled onto the porch with two cups of coffee and sat on the swing next to Dani, her expression drawn and angry.

  She swallowed against the emotion clumped in her throat. Mama Beth’s fury only made everything worse. Dani took the cup her aunt offered, but her empty stomach reeled at the smell. “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to make you upset.”

  Mama Beth’s eyes searched hers. “You honestly have no idea why I’m angry, do you?”

  “No, but whatever it is I want to make it right.” Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill.

  Her aunt studied her for a moment, then scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her neck. “It’s all right, sweetie.” She crooned her words, and pulled away. “I know this is none of my business, but what’s going on with you and Andy?”

  Dani uncrossed her legs and shifted uncomfortably. Had she learned the truth? “We’re just friends.”

  “Then why have you been sneaking off in the middle of the night? Last night wasn’t the first time your bed hasn’t been slept in.”

  Her eyes widened. Surely her aunt didn’t think . . . oh no, and the rest of the town, too! No wonder they were upset. They thought and believed the worst. Acid coiled on her tongue, and her brain accelerated. “It’s not what you’re thinking. Andy’s helping me with some private business.” She frowned. “Is that what this is all about?”

  Mama Beth lowered her head, peering into her cup. “Not entirely.” A weary breath escaped her. “You’re not going to like hearing this, and there’s no easy way to say it.” She raised her gaze. “Everyone in Miller’s Creek knows you and Steve were seeing each other, and now—”

  “—and now we’re not.” The truth had finally come out. She took a long slow sip of smoky air to fight the sudden rush of anger. They still felt entitled to stick their noses in her personal affairs.

  Her aunt’s expression hardened. “I don’t think you understand how much Steve means to this town. How much he means to me.”

  She turned her head to watch a couple of squirrels at play in the oak tree then faced her aunt, struggling to keep her ire in check. “I do understand, but this is my private business.” Her voice trembled. “No one else, including you, has the right to meddle in my life. The decision not to see him was my choice. Not yours. Not Steve’s. Not the people of Miller’s Creek.”

  Mama Beth’s eyes grew sad, and she glanced away, staring into space. “I tried to warn you about what living in a small town would be like.” She brought both hands up and smoothed her silver curls. “Miller’s Creek is a tight-knit community. When you hurt one, especially one as highly regarded as Steve, you hurt us all.” Her gaze turned back to Dani.

  “This isn’t about Steve. I think he’s wonderful. It’s just . . .” How could she make Mama Beth understand her trust issues when she didn’t fully understand them herself? No one could comprehend how much suffering she’d endured because of Richard.

  “What is it?”

  She looked away. There was no use in explaining. “Never mind.”

  “I think it was rather cruel to go out with Steve two nights in a row and then dump him for Andy. Don’t you?”

  Dani snapped her head around to view her aunt’s cold anger, and her fingers fisted. Back in the same familiar spot—alone—with no one to take her side. Just like her parents and Richard. She planted an elbow on the arm of the swing, and rested her forehead against her open palm. If only her muddled brain could function.

  Mama Beth let out a ragged breath, her eyes bright with tears. “Sorry, I’m just tired. I don’t understand any of this, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you.”

  The pain in her throat made it impossible to reply.

  Vehicle tires crunched in the driveway drawing her aunt’s attention. “I wonder who that is.” Mama Beth pushed herself from the swing and hurried to the corner of the porch.

  The gate creaked, followed by the sound of boots on the wooden steps. “Hey Mama Beth, I’m here to see Dani.”

  Ernie? She moved to the front. Her life experience had taught her that a personal visit from a policeman was never a good thing.

  He saw her and removed his hat. “Mornin’, Miss Dani. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “No, not at all. Is something wrong?”

  Casting a glance at Mama Beth, he sent a close-lipped smile, but didn’t answer.

  Her aunt stepped close and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be inside. Ernie, would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Yes ma’am, please.”

  Mama Beth bustled away, and Dani took a seat in the rocking chair, her knees wobbly with fatigue. “Please have a seat, Ernie. You look ready to collapse.”

  He nodded and plopped into the other rocker. “I am. This shouldn’t take long.” He rolled his lips. “Several people saw you downtown late last night. Can you tell me why?”

  Dani’s heart lurched at the implication of his words. “I was visiting Andy.” Her befuddled brain grappled with the words. “H-he’s helping me with some legal matters.”

  The door squeaked. Mama Beth shuffled onto the porch, handed Ernie his coffee, then re-entered the house. He took a sip, his blue-gray eyes searching her face over the edge of the cup. “What time did you get down there?”

  “I’d guess around ten. I know that’s late, but I was working on some paperwork here then left to meet him. Mama Beth might know the exact time. She was headed upstairs to bed about the time I left.”

  “Did she know you were going?”

  “Yes.”

  Ernie stopped to scribble a note on a notepad. “And how long were you there?”

  She caught her breath. This wouldn’t look good, but she’d tell the truth no matter what happened. She took a slow breath to steady her nerves. “The last time I remember looking at a clock it was 2:30 in the morning.”

  He didn’t respond as he jotted down the note, but judging by the set of his jaw he disapproved. “Did you see anyone else downtown?”

  “No, but Andy and I both heard glass breaking. We looked out the window, just as Granny’s Kitchen went up in flames. That’s when we called the fire department—”

  His head shot up, his eyebrows raised. “You called the fire department?”

  “Yes.”

  He lowered his head to write. “And then?”

  “We left the building to
see what we could do to help. We reached the area just as you were setting up the roadblock, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” He finished writing, clicked his pen and stuffed it in his front shirt pocket. “The fire was set on purpose, Dani.”

  Her mouth sagged open. Who would do such a thing?

  “I’ve called in an arson investigator. I’m sure he’ll have more questions for you.”

  Numb, Dani shook her head. “I’ll help in whatever way I can, and I’m sure Andy will do the same.”

  “Thanks for your time.” He stood, placed his hat on his head, and clomped down the steps, his notepad tucked under his arm.

  She watched him drive away, her mind in upheaval. Ernie suspected her. Did everyone else in town feel the same way? Lowering her head to her hands, she rested her elbows on the arms of the rocker, attempting once more to understand. It was no use. The fatigue was too strong. Maybe a shower would help.

  After showering, she sank onto the feather mattress in her room, every muscle in her body rebelling, the fog around her brain as thick as a fall morning. All she’d wanted was to help these people. The dam of tears she’d held back all morning burst open, and she covered her face with a pillow to mute her sobs. What had possessed her to think she could pull this off? The distant and distrusting faces of the townspeople replayed in her mind. Had she already outstayed her welcome in this place she’d grown to love?

  She flopped onto her back and pleaded for her brain to stop its relentless pursuit of unanswerable questions, swiping tears from her cheeks. The simple and ugly truth was that Steve belonged here, and she didn’t. It was only natural the townspeople would see things from his perspective. Dani let out a choked breath. Right back where she started, on the outside looking in, wanting to belong, but knowing she never would.

  When she finally dozed, her sleep was restless. The acrid smell of smoke, Mama Beth’s angry face, and the sadness in Steve’s eyes all melded into a nightmare. A tall fence stretched skyward. Between the pickets she could see the people of Miller’s Creek. They needed her help, but there was no way in. From out of nowhere, an urgent voice ripped her from the hands of sleep, jolting her into an upright position.

  “Dani, wake up. Evelyn Miller passed away.”

  ~~o~~

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Death and Destruction

  Another funeral.

  Dani slumped in the pew next to Mama Beth and stared bleakly ahead, her eyes dry and gravelly. In front of the wooden pulpit, and adorned with an arrangement of white roses, sat Evelyn’s casket. On both ends, several large flower sprays spewed their hot house fragrance into the air. Was this all there was to life? Hurt upon hurt, sorrow upon sorrow, and then you died?

  The pallbearers passed, attired in an odd mixture of dark suits and carefully pressed blue jeans. From behind her, the family members entered and were ushered to their seats. The sight of Trish and Doc, followed by Bo and Steve, caused her throat to clog with tears. Though their sorrow was evident, their faces were enshrouded with an indescribable peace.

  She concentrated on her breathing to hold the threatening tears at bay.

  As the last gentle tones of the piano prelude ended, Steve made his way to the podium. He shuffled his notes, swallowed hard, and raised puffy eyes to the crowd. “My family and I want to thank you for being here today. Even though Mom wasn’t originally from Miller’s Creek, y’all made her feel welcome, and she considered you her friends.” Light radiated from his face. Hope?

  Dani’s compassion swelled. How did he have the strength to speak? Especially after losing someone he loved.

  “Words can’t express how much we appreciate the visits, phone calls, cards, and food. The outpouring of love we’ve experienced over the past few days has been overwhelming, and we thank you.”

  She thought back to last night’s visitation. Never had she seen a community rally around a family with so much love. She’d give almost anything to belong to that kind of community. Anything, that is, except her privacy. But would the cost of that privacy be more than she could bear?

  Steve cleared his throat and shared memories of his mother, eliciting intermittent bouts of laughter and teary sniffles, and yanking at her heart until it felt ready to burst. He paused, choking back emotion, his eyes watering. Dani ducked her head against the sight, but not soon enough. Tears spilled down her face, leaving a salty residue on her lips.

  “We want this service for Mom to be a time of rejoicing. She’s at home now, resting in the arms of the One who loves her completely.” His voice cracked then leveled out. “We’ll miss her, but she’s finally experiencing total peace and joy, and that’s cause for celebration.” He made his way to the front pew, responding to the loving hugs and touches from his family.

  Why was she the one crying while the Millers held up like soldiers? Dani scrounged through her purse for a tissue, dabbed her cheeks, and studied the people in the congregation, their belief in heaven evident and strong. She fought the same old thoughts and feelings, afraid to give in. What did God expect from her? Brother Mac said salvation and heaven were a free gift of grace—something she could never earn—but if they were free, why was it such a struggle to accept them?

  Mother’s words hammered in her head. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

  ~~o~~

  Three days later Dani gulped in the hot dry air and settled, bone-weary, against a boulder near the creek, the gurgling water a blur. She’d made up her mind. Quitting wasn’t an option. From the beginning, she’d determined to see the renovation through to completion no matter what. Anything beyond that was unknown, especially now.

  The locusts’ song rattled from the trees, sometimes soft, but more often a climactic crescendo, echoing her rising anguish. She had to find a way to repair her relationships with the people of Miller’s Creek and Mama Beth. It might not get her anywhere, but it was worth the effort. These people mattered too much not to try, and so did her dream.

  She lifted her gaze to the old oaks overhanging the banks of the creek then followed the drooping branches to the stony surface. The once-crystal-clear water now consisted of nothing more than a few murky puddles amidst water-worn rocks. For the past three days thoughts of Steve had bombarded her brain. She’d attempted to banish them from her mind, but to no avail. Puzzling over her contradictory feelings, Dani squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead tight and furrowed. The scared-little-girl part of her wanted to hang on for dear life to her self-inflicted ban of allowing her heart to fall in love. A different part—the last molecules of hope left buried inside—dared to believe that Steve was better than any man she’d ever known. But what if she was wrong? And worse yet, what if he didn’t want her anymore?

  Dani hugged her knees to her chest. No matter what happened, she had to find a way to make him understand how she treasured his friendship. The problem lay in getting close enough to express those feelings without sending mixed signals or endangering her resolve.

  The hairs on the back of her neck tingled, though the air was breezeless. She glanced up. On horseback Steve stared back from the other side of the creek, causing her breath to rattle in her throat. How long had he been there? The distance between them shrunk as if their souls somehow intertwined.

  After a moment both eternal and far too short, he broke the gaze and eased Biscuit into the creek, the horse’s hooves slosh-clopping along the rocky creek bed. Head down, Steve’s body shifted in rhythm with the gait of the horse, until he came to a stop nearby. He dismounted and tied Biscuit’s reins to a low-hanging branch, and ambled to her, the area around his eyes swollen. “Hi.”

  “How are you?” Even as she asked the question, she realized its absurdity.

  His shoulder-sagging sigh carried the weight of his burden in one swish of sound, and he squatted beside her, his pained expression sending stabs of hurt to her heart.

  Dani scooted over to make room, and he joined her on the craggy sandstone. “I’m so sorry abou
t your mom.” She tried to look away, but couldn’t drag her eyes from his face.

  A weary smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Thanks. She’s better off where she is. I’m glad her suffering is finally over.”

  “I am too, but that doesn’t take away the hurt.”

  He moved his gaze to the creek. “No, it . . .” A shudder claimed his voice.

  “I know how it feels.”

  “I know you do.” Agony drenched his eyes. “I have so many regrets. I feel guilty—”

  “Why? You were a wonderful son.”

  “Not at the end. I didn’t spend time with her like I should have.”

  “But you were busy.”

  “That’s no excuse.” His face twisted in grief. “I ran myself ragged under the guise of working for Miller’s Creek, when in all truth I was running from her illness and using it as an excuse to stay away. You spent more time with her than I did.” He picked up a stone near his foot and hurled it into the deepest part of the creek, where it landed with a kerplunk. “The sad truth is that none of us are guaranteed another breath. We should take advantage of the time we have instead of shying away from people and situations because of our fears.”

  Her pulse thundered in her ears. He had no way of knowing how closely his words mirrored her thoughts. In a move she didn’t fully understand, she wrapped him in an embrace and laid her head against his chest, the beat of his heart solid and steady.

  He sat unresponsive and silent, the scent of his cologne wafting to her nose with each breath. What was she doing? She needed to move away, but found it impossible to let go. Instead Steve released a weighted sigh, and averting his gaze, gently pushed her away. He hauled himself to his feet and trudged to where Biscuit stood. “By the way, I never got the chance to say thanks for saving the train depot.”

  Why wouldn’t he look at her? Dani swallowed tears and willed him to turn her way. “And I never got to say thanks for saving me.”