Heaving a deep sigh, she started to fill out the forms for federal grants. Saving the library was one of the scariest tasks she’d ever undertaken. But she couldn’t let it go. She was meant to be here, fighting for what Marie had built, her legacy. If Lane wasn’t on the opposite side of the battle, she might have to worry about her heart. But as it was, there was less than the slimmest chance of zero possibility. And that was being generous.
Chapter Eleven
Lane paused on his morning walk back toward the station and gazed thirty feet into the air. Sam let out a sharp bark and stood at attention. A middle aged man was crouched on the slanted roof of the old Liberty Library, hands splayed against the glass of the tiny attic window, looking exactly like an early morning peeping Tom.
“Hey, Chet, what are you doing up there?” Lane called.
“Morning to you, Lane. Hey, Sam.” His voice was slow, easy. Nothing much got under Chet Adams’s skin.
“Are you tied down?” Lane crossed the lawn, eyes fixed on the man’s heels. One slip and he’d take a serious, possibly fatal, fall.
“I’m not afraid of heights. Just walkin’ around up here, checking the roof.”
Lane gritted his teeth. Obviously Chet wasn’t afraid of falling. But he should be. His old work boots looked worn smooth on the bottom, and there wasn’t even a branch nearby to catch hold of if he lost his footing. Sam wagged his golden retriever body against Lane’s leg, as if to tell him it would be fine. But the dog wasn’t psychic as far as he could tell.
“New lady librarian asked me to come inspect the place and give her a new estimate.” He called down as nonchalantly as if he and Lane were talking on the sidewalk. He took a few steps to the left and bent down to examine the window sash of the dormer window. “Got some wood rot, but nothing too bad yet.”
The sound of the front door opening succeeded in tearing Lane’s gaze from Chet. Daisy emerged, shrugging on an old sweater, crossing her arms against the early morning chill. He felt his brain stop at a few key points as he gave her a head to toe glance. It was hard to see Rocky in this beautiful young woman.
“Don’t distract him. He’s got work to do.” She came close, green eyes giving warning signs any man would recognize as ‘the look’. Reaching down, she gave Sam a good scratch behind the ears.
“He won’t be completing the job if he slips and breaks his neck.”
Daisy frowned up at Chet. “I’m sure he’s careful.”
“Everybody’s careful until they have an accident. It’s not about being careful. It’s about being safe.” He could feel heat creeping up his neck and made an effort to relax. This sort of thing made him crazy. He knew it, understood it, and it still drove his blood pressure into the danger zone.
“I suppose you’re right.” Her tone was light and he wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not.
Daisy tilted her head up, sunlight shining off her bright blond hair. For a moment she seemed so much younger than she was, or maybe her grief was losing its grip. Sadness took a toll on a person but in the morning light, she radiated youthful energy.
“Mr. Adams, we should probably get you a safety harness. I don’t want to have to explain to your wife why I let you fall off the roof of the library.”
There was an answering grunt and he stomped over to the ladder, turning around to descend. The thick brown Carhartt overalls that kept him warm through the chill spring mornings made him looked like a bear from the back. He stepped down in silence and hopped off the last rung. “You know how to scare a man, Daisy.”
Lane smiled, feeling a bit of admiration for Daisy’s tactic. His wife Doreen wasn’t the sweet and retiring type, to put it mildly. She wouldn’t appreciate Chet taking chances like that and they all knew it.
“Chet, have you been downstairs yet? I heard the supports will have to be replaced.”
Daisy shot Lane a glance, lips pulling tight, clutching the worn gray sweater closer. “He’s getting there. And I want him to be as thorough as you do. It won’t do anybody any good if we don’t know every area that needs work.”
He felt his face grow hot. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you would want anything less than a complete estimate. I was wondering if this was the beginning of his inspection or the end.”
“Oh. The beginning.” Daisy had the decency to look chastened. “Go ahead on inside, Mr. Adams. I’ll be there in just a minute.”
Chet took his cue, giving Lane a raised eyebrow and stomping off toward the library stairs.
The morning air seemed to have lost its springtime promise of new beginnings. He felt the silence hang thick and heavy. Sam wedged his body between them, looking from one to another, waiting for someone to give him a good scratch. Lane patted the thigh of his uniform and Sam obediently moved to the side, sitting quietly.
The seconds ticked by and he wished he didn’t lose the ability to form a complete thought when Daisy was nearer. He needed to explain, to clarify. She probably thought he was doing his best to keep the library from having any chance at reconstruction but he would love to have the old place rebuilt if it was in the realm of possibility. Which it wasn’t. Lane gripped the brim of his officer’s hat and gave it a tug. Her lips twitched.
“Something funny?”
“You always do that.”
A mental rewind produced nothing he could find that would elicit that almost-smile.
“You wiggle your hat.”
He rolled his eyes skyward at his own forehead. “Okay.”
“Just wondering what it means.”
Her mouth was still quirked up at one corner. He didn’t want to look closer, but felt like he was being pulled in by a strong tide. He was staring and couldn’t help it. That teasing glance made him wish they’d met under completely different circumstances. Far away from city hall and building codes and funerals, maybe they would have had a chance.
He reached up his hand to tug his hat and stopped halfway, conscious of the movement.
She laughed outright, a warm sound that started deep in her throat and seemed to travel directly to his heart. He grinned despite his own irritation.
“So? Why the hat? Is it a secret signal?”
Lane shuffled his feet. He knew everybody in this town and they knew him. He was Officer Lane Bennett, the son of respectable people but this woman made him feel like a fifteen year old impersonating a cop. He rested a hand on Sam’s head.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Just a nervous habit.”
“You do it a lot.”
Only around you. “I didn’t notice. I’ll try to retrain that hand.”
“Oh, don’t. I like knowing what’s going on in your head.”
“Nice sweater.” Apparently, the fifteen year old boy had taken over control of his mouth. He felt his face grow hot.
Daisy glanced down at the ancient cardigan and her smile slipped. “Marie’s, it was hanging on the hook. I grabbed it when I saw you outside.”
He saw now how the dressy slacks, cream shirt and patent leather shoes didn’t match what was very clearly an old woman’s way of warding off the chill.
She lifted a sleeve and inhaled. “It still smells like her.”
His heart squeezed in on itself. She was holding out a sleeve, eyes half-filled with tears. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and recognized Marie’s special aroma of baby powder and soap. “Yup. That’s her.”
Daisy’s face crumpled and she took in a ragged breath. “Sorry.” Her voice squeaked and she swiped at her eyes. “I’m fine.”
Sam let out a soft whine and pushed against Lane’s leg. He knew just what his dog was feeling. A woman crying had never been at the top of his list of favorite moments, but her tears were in a whole other league. Maybe because he knew she was tough, with that inner core of solid stubbornness that had gotten her out of Liberty.
The sight of these tears made him wish for something easier, like being shot. He searched for helpful words, but came up with nothing. You’re definitely not fine when
tears are pouring down your face. It’s a rule. And no matter how many times you say it, it won’t make it true.
Acting on instinct, he reached out the few inches between them and gathered her into his arms. Her back trembled under his hands, shoulders hitching as she gasped for breath. The motions of her grief were so familiar it felt like his own, as if they had become one person. He knew that in the beginning there was numbness and then it turned into a fiery ache inside that couldn’t be put out with platitudes. It just had to run its course, as painful and searing as it was.
He wrapped her up tight in the only thing he had- himself. Brushing a kiss over her forehead, Lane whispered a fervent prayer into her hair. We need your comfort, Lord.
After a few moments she straightened, struggling to regain control. “I’m not like this. I’m not like those girls who bawl all over some guy’s shirt.” Her voice was fierce.
“I know.”
“It’s weak and stupid. And it’s not me. I can handle it.” Her hands were fisted into the front of his uniform. So much for ironing.
“I know.”
“I don’t need you to pick up the pieces. I’m doing perfectly-”
She broke off, as if his words were finally sinking in. She unfurled her fingers and stepped back, not bothering to wipe her face, tears glinting in the sunlight. “But thank you anyway.” Her words were soft, barely audible.
“I know how special she was to you. The pain doesn’t go away, but it changes. It gets easier.” It was tough to speak around the lump in his throat. He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek. The moment had brought back so many memories of Colt’s accident, his own despair, the anger and the confusion.
Daisy heaved a sigh. “I thought it was better. This morning I felt almost happy. The cabin is amazing. I finally slept for the first time in weeks.” She looked up, emotions flitting over her face. “I can hear the creek from my bedroom and the birds were singing at dawn. It was such a blessing to wake up that way.”
“Better than Russell.”
“A hundred times better than Russell.”
She scratched at Sam’s ears, almost without seeming to know she was. He closed his deep brown eyes and let his jaw fall open, tongue lolling out one side in happiness.
“I’m glad you’re happy there.” They were simple words but it was an apology, a peace offering and a question, all wrapped up together.
“Thanks. I think I’ll stay.” The look she darted at him said she’d understood and accepted. They weren’t exactly allies but they weren’t enemies, either. Truce.
Lane urgently wished there was some other excuse for bridging the inches between them, for holding her close again. She’d fit perfectly in his arms and he missed her soft shape against him. The sheer strength of that desire set off warnings bells in his head.
“I should get to work. Morning shift is starting.” He lifted his hand and he caught it half way to his hat. Her smile spread wide.
“Do you live that way?” She cocked her head toward the South end of Poplar Street.
“No. I live on Olive, a few blocks over.” He pointed.
“But you and Sam always walk this way in the morning.”
“Probably seeing us on our way back from bringing Rocky breakfast. We chat a bit on his porch.”
Her hand stilled on Sam’s golden fur, eyes going wide for just a moment. “Well, have a good day.” With that, she turned and headed for the stairs.
Lane watched her go, torn between wanting to explain and knowing there was nothing he could say that would make her accept Rocky. Only God’s grace could unite these two.
Whatever was going to happen between Rocky and his daughter, Lane needed to keep his heart out of the equation. Even the best case scenario, with a renovated library and a reunited family, included Daisy heading back to California at the end of the summer. He’d been left holding his heart in his hand before. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat.
***
Not a problem. Daisy hit the stairs at a quick clip, brushing the tears out of her eyes. A minor emotional breakdown, wiping her nose on the hot cop, and then getting the none-too-gentle reminder her drunk dad was a few blocks away? Really, it was all fine.
She groaned in frustration and stomped around the front desk.
“Everything okay?” Nita’s head popped up from somewhere below the long desktop and Daisy let out a shriek.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Nita ducked back under and retrieved a few more books from the book drop built into the desk.
Slumping forward, Daisy laid her hand on her heart. “I forgot there was a book return there.”
“I noticed. It’s full.” Another pile of books hit the counter.
“Could you write down all the opening and closing routines? I’m lost. And it’s going to get hairier around here with summer reading starting.”
Nita threw her a smile. “Sure can. And don’t worry. I won’t let you drown.”
“But you might let me flounder around a bit.”
A snort of laughter told her she was right. “Only a bit.” Nita looked at her a little closer, quick eyes noting what must be a shiny red nose and puffy eyes. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, totally. Just... missing Marie.”
Nita nodded, speaking softly. “Me, too. Come on, help me get these checked in.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Daisy could see Chet working his way down the length of the old library, checking windows and floor, marking notes on a clipboard.
“I saw Lane outside.”
Daisy paused for the barest moment before answering. It didn’t matter what the town gossips said. “He was worried about Chet on the roof.”
“That’s our Lane. You can always count on him to come through when things get tough. Always looking out for everyone.”
A minute passed punctuated only by the soft beeps of the scanners recognizing book barcodes. Daisy wanted to say Lane could cross a few people off his list, but the memory of his arms around her was still fresh. Not every guy would have braved a woman’s tears and offered comfort.
Nita coughed. “I just could never understand why that Tara dumped him.”
Here it goes. Old girlfriends lead nowhere good. She wouldn’t bite this time. Nita was probably expecting her to trash talk the ex, in hopes of getting some information which would give her a better chance with Lane. Well, she didn’t need another complication in her life.
“He never would talk much about it. Just told everybody she had good reasons and not to be gossiping.”
She felt a flicker of curiosity. Most guys would have soothed their hurt pride by insinuating the woman was certifiably nuts. She stacked the last of the books onto a cart and started to sort them in call number order. “I’ll shelve these if you want to watch the desk.”
“Up to you, dear.” Nita glanced up and seemed to notice for the first time that Daisy was wearing Marie’s old gray sweater. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I never asked you if you needed anything. You’re quite a bit shorter than I am but if you need to borrow-”
“No, I’ve got clothes. I just saw Lane outside and grabbed it from the peg.” Daisy shrugged off the sweater, feeling her face go hot. She knew how it was to be dressed in ratty clothes, to always be the one with the cast-off clothing. Even thrift store pants were too expensive for an eight year old with no income.
Nita reached out and touched Daisy’s hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was thinking about you staying for the summer. You can borrow anything you need.”
Daisy wanted to shake off her touch and repeat that she was fine, fine, fine but she took a breath and thought for a moment. She couldn’t buy everything new, that was true. “I’m turning in the rental car and buying a bike but it would be nice if I could just borrow one instead.”
“I have one that will get you to the cabin and back. It’s even got a basket.”
Daisy couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face
. “Perfect.”
“I’ll bring it by this afternoon, if that works for you.” She coughed again, wincing.
“Are you all right?” Working with kids all year, Daisy knew the start of a cold when she saw one.
“Just a tickle in my throat. I probably need to dust.” The older woman turned away heading for the stairs.
She nodded, thinking on her new-found transportation and feeling a slow spread of warmth around her heart. Nosy locals weren’t all bad, it would seem.
Chapter Twelve
“Lane?” The voice at the other end of the line was completely unrecognizable. He frowned into space, trying to match the face with the rough and croaking tone.
“It’s Nita. I’m sick with something awful and I need a favor.”
He sat up straight, pushing his breakfast plate to the side. “Sure, Nita, you name it.” Poor woman sounded like she shouldn’t even be speaking.
“I was supposed to take Daisy into Denver today to buy the summer reading prizes before it starts on Monday. She could go alone but she’s already turned in her rental car.”
“You want me to take her?” Of course Nita did. Jamie was another option, but she helped out at Kenny’s preschool on Friday mornings.
A long sigh echoed down the line followed by a series of deep coughs. “I knew I could count on you.”
“What time?”
“I told her I’d pick her up at nine. Stop by here on the way and I’ll give you a list of the prizes and some money.”
It was eight thirty. Time for a quick shower. “Okay, I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, I owe you.” The relief in her voice was palpable. He could just see the older woman relaxing back into her chair, wrinkled face at peace.
Leaving Liberty Page 9
