Blinking back her confusion, Daisy took a deep breath. “Are you sure? She told you this?”
“Right after Tara left.”
The mountains out the window seemed to blur. It was too much to take in. Marie had been married and never mentioned it? Her throat tightened with every breath. The one person in Liberty she’d thought had been honest, had been holding on to a secret.
“Why wouldn’t she have told me?” Daisy tried to make the words off-hand but her voice wavered on the last word. Me. Of all people, why tell Lane?
He focused on the road, glancing in the rear view mirror, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe she didn’t want people to see her as a victim. She wouldn’t have denied it had happened, but it didn’t rule the rest of her life.”
Picking at the ruffled hem of her dress, Daisy let the words swirl around and around in her head. Just like Lane, Marie had refused to let someone else brand her as a victim. She’d been wronged, cast-off, and humiliated. She didn’t wear it for everyone to see, but certainly didn’t harbor a secret bitterness. “Marie had made peace with it.”
He nodded. “Seems so.” The clouds in the distance reflected bright sun and he reached for his sunglasses on the dash.
Daisy watched the skyline of Denver come into view. Downtown sky scrapers were startling against the sky. When she was younger, all she’d wanted was to leave Liberty. In Fresno, she made no secret of how miserable her childhood had been. Ana had been positively shocked to hear she was staying the summer.
She swallowed. Was she playing the victim? Did she wear her bitterness like an old smelly coat? Rocky had wronged her, no doubt. She’d been neglected and abused. It was no secret. But what was the difference between owning your past hurts and letting them rule your every decision?
She didn’t want to be that woman. She’d worked hard to be capable, strong, independent. Now she had to wonder if there was more to her refusal to be part of Liberty. Bitterness was ugly. It poisoned everything and everyone it touched. Daisy watched the tiny white puffs of cloud scudding across the sky and hoped with all her might that she was wrong. The truth of it shook her to the core: her strength and her pride just might be something completely different. Anger was something dark and treacherous, like a bitter seed.
She was angry. Angry at not having a real childhood, angry at not having a great father figure. Angry at everyone in this little town knowing her business. She’d pulled the anger in until it was hard and sharp as broken glass.
Daisy stared out at the mountains and wished she knew how to take that jagged edge of an angry life and make it something new. She didn’t want to spend her life looking back. She wanted to bring something better to the kids in Liberty than a bunch of old hurts. But for the life of her, she didn’t know how.
Chapter Thirteen
Lane glanced in the truck’s rear view mirror and wished for the tenth time that he was a smoother sort of guy. Who talks about their ex-girlfriend right off the bat? So, it wasn’t a date or anything close to it, but it was one of those unwritten rules: never talk about the ex-girlfriend. Just don’t do it. Don’t go there. And he did.
He rubbed his forehead with one hand and slid a glance at Daisy. The sun was shining through the old truck windshield and it almost hurt to look at her. Bright glossy hair, naturally beautiful, hands resting casually in her lap. She hadn’t talked much. Probably because she hadn’t had a chance. Or was afraid of what he’d say next.
My heart is a pair of old pants. He should just give up and go home right now. Except that he was on an errand for Nita and the library and the kids.
She obviously hadn’t known about Marie’s marriage. He couldn’t really fathom why Marie had never mentioned it, except for the reason he’d said. It was past, over, didn’t make a difference to her full life in Liberty. He gritted his teeth and searched for something, anything to say. Some safe topic, like her job or her friends back in Fresno.
“You go out a lot in Fresno?” As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to smack himself . It sounded like he was fishing for details on her romantic life.
“I wouldn’t say a whole lot and only on the weekends. During the week, I’m pretty busy with school. Even though it ends earlier than most jobs, I still have grading and lesson plans to review.” She had a smile on her face that seemed a tiny bit forced.
Lane took the Downtown Denver exit and slowed the truck. “Did you always want to be a teacher? You said fifth grade, right? That’s a funny age.”
“Funny?”
“Awkward. Toby is about that age and a few years ago he was only interested in baseball. Now it’s music and girls and biking around town.”
Her lips tugged up. “True. A few years later and they’re zooming into their teens. A few years before and it’s that perfectly innocent age.” She turned to him, brows drawn together. “Toby, he was the boy who was heading for the semi? The day that…” She motioned with her hand, drawing in the air between them.
“The day we met?” She was right about those words not quite fitting. He grinned. “The boy you chased me down to protect?”
Pink bloomed over her cheekbones. “Sorry about that. Again.”
“Don’t be. I think it says a lot about you. Plus, it makes a great story.”
“And who are you telling this story to?” She plunked one hand on her hip and fixed him with a glare.
He couldn’t help the laugh that rose up in his throat. He loved that look she got, the one that said she was ready to set him straight on whatever point he’d missed. “Nobody. Yet. But I can see it being a favorite. You know, family gatherings. Reunions. Christmas.”
The pink turned deeper in her cheeks. “I’m glad you’ll be getting some good value from my crazy mistake.”
Uh oh. He took a second to merge into the far left lane. “That’s not the way I meant it. My parents have a great story about the time my father stole my mom’s purse. She’d been out a party and took a cab back to her apartment. She hopped out, and my dad hopped in. He didn’t see her chasing the taxi down the street, trying to get her purse back.” He paused. “It’s a really funny story when they tell it.”
She cocked her head at him, considering. Lane felt like sliding through the seat. So now he’d compared their weird first meeting with his long-married parents’ introduction to each other. She must think he was slow. She was leaving. There wouldn’t be any reunion, any Christmas dinner with the family where they’d tell the story of Toby and the semi.
The sudden sounding of her cell phone saved him from whatever it was she was going to say. Daisy pulled it out of her purse, glanced at the display, a small smile crossing her lips.
“You can answer that. We’re not in a meeting.” He made sure his tone was light, but inside he was betting dollars to doughnuts it was a boyfriend. The guy was probably going crazy without her.
“It’s my friend Ana. I’ll call her back when I have more time.” She tucked the phone back into her purse. “She’s been great, picking up my car at the airport, sending me clothes. I think she’s worried I’ve lost my mind.”
“Because everyone knows how much you hate this town.” What was obvious to him in five minutes was surely no secret to good friends back home.
She frowned out the windshield for a moment. “That may be it but I hope I haven’t spent the whole last ten years griping about Liberty.” The wry tone in her voice made him smile.
Glancing over at him, she shrugged. “Probably more likely that I’m one of those people that plans every step of every day. I’m the teacher who has files and files of lessons saved up, just in case. I’m the girl who never does anything crazier than painting my nails a shade darker than usual.”
“Until now.” He could imagine what it had taken for her to drop everything and stay in this town, even if it was only just for the summer.
“Until now,” she repeated softly.
Lane felt her predicament like an ache. It made her sacrifice so much bigger, her dreams fo
r the library so much more bittersweet. As far as he could tell, she probably would have been better just going home after Marie’s funeral. He was glad she was here, next to him, inches away in his old red truck, smelling like an early summer morning, but the chances of her saving the library were just too small.
“How are the grants going?” He slowed the truck even further as they joined the Denver traffic, sleek cars streaming in from every side.
“They’re completed and turned in. It takes months for them to be reviewed but if we can even get one, then people will know that the library can be saved.” Her eyes were bright, she sat up straighter as she spoke. “The city manager thinks the library is a waste of funds that could be spent on fireworks or sprucing up City Hall. She showed me her plans for a nice office that had a view of the golf course.”
The steel in her voice wasn’t lost on him. “That’s what city managers do. Spruce up the place. And if she thinks it means dumping the old Carnegie library and building something better five years from now, she’s going to try that.”
“I don’t have a problem with a new library, Lane.” Daisy had turned to him, reaching out to touch his arm, voice deadly serious. He felt the warmth of her hand and wished the traffic was lighter. It was hard to concentrate on merging when she was talking, let alone touching him. “But she said they can’t afford to pay the flood insurance on the old one, make repairs for it to be usable during construction and raise money for a new one all at once. Liberty wouldn’t have a library for a really long time, probably close to two years.” Her hand dropped to the seat and she turned to look at the skyline growing closer, towers of smoked glass sparkling in the summer sunlight.
“Two years is too long for these kids.” He meant every word. “Kids like Toby need that place just as much as they need the city sports teams. Consistency and discipline are the only things between them and a whole lot of trouble.”
He tapped the breaks as the cars slowed, fighting for roadway as more merged into the center lanes. “I know you don’t think much of Liberty, but we haven’t had many problems with gangs and drugs so far. I think it’s because of how tight the community is, how much they give to the youth.”
She shot him a glance. “I don’t hate Liberty.” She paused, shifting in her seat. “It’s not my favorite place in the world.”
Lane snorted softly. “I bet compared to Fresno it’s pretty backwards.”
Her eyebrows went up. “I like my school, my friends, my little neighborhood, but Fresno isn’t a great city.” She waved at the window, toward the view. “Look at that skyline. It’s gorgeous. It can’t be equaled, anywhere.”
“Fresno has skyscrapers, I’m sure.”
It was her turn to sound disbelieving. “Have you ever seen that place? Concrete jungle all the way. In the summer it’s hotter than you’d think would be possible. Downtown there are some nice historic buildings, near Kern Street, but nothing like Liberty for charm.”
“Aren’t there mountains near? I thought the Sierra Nevadas were over that way.”
“Over that way, yes, a few hours away and there are the Kings Canyon foothills about twenty minutes from the city. You can’t see any of that for the smog and the heat and the traffic. It’s a huge urban sprawl.”
They were creeping along into Denver now, traffic having backed up for several miles. “I always thought it was the small town part you hated.”
She was quiet a moment, rolling a ruffle of her sundress between her fingers. “I don’t hate Liberty.” Her voice was softer, as if she was coming to the realization, even though she’d said the same words just a few minutes before.
The car ahead of them crept forward a few feet, then stopped. “Gridlock is universal. Looks like we’re in for a little bit of a wait.” He glanced at her, wondering how much to say, not wanting to make the ride uncomfortable. But then again, they’d already discussed his romantic life, her dad, and Marie’s marriage so maybe that ship had sailed. “My parents can’t bear to live in Liberty. Not anymore.”
She raised her gaze to his and the softness in her eyes told him she already knew the story. “Too many painful memories.”
“I didn’t understand, at first because when I look around, I see Colt everywhere and my memories are good ones. I take comfort in sitting at the river where we used to fish, tilling the garden we used to work in with our grandfather, coaching the city team we used to play on as kids.”
It felt so good to talk to her. “My mother says that she keeps expecting him to walk in the door. She can’t sit at the cabin and look at his empty chair. She can’t drive past our old high school and not wish he was a teenager again. The only way she could feel any peace was to go somewhere he’d never been.”
“I never thought of how hard it would be to have such good memories of someone who’s gone.” Daisy paused. “I guess I always figured having really bad memories was the worst it could be.” Her voice was rueful.
The traffic moved steadily again and Lane shifted into a higher gear. “Grief is different for everyone, I suppose.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider. The car ahead of them flashed its brake lights and Lane slowed again. She let out a long slow breath.
“I’m sorry this taking so long. We should be there in a few minutes.” If only Nita had been well enough, they probably would have had a good girl’s day out, rather than taking a road trip in his old Ford. She probably was bored beyond belief in that little cabin, without her friends around.
Daisy glanced over, surprise on her face. “No, the traffic doesn’t bother me a bit. Nothing compared to some trips I’ve taken through East Fresno.” She caught her lip between her teeth and shrugged. “I was thinking…”
He waited, curious at the struggle to find words. “Oh, come on. It can’t be worse than my pair-of-pants heart, can it?”
She giggled, a young, lovely sound. He forced himself not to stare, wrenching his gaze back to the road. “No, probably not.” Her smile slipped from her face. “Just thinking that I have a lot of work to do.”
“For the library.” He nodded. If only the traffic would clear up, they could get the summer prizes and she could keep working.
“No, on my own heart.” She cocked her head. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I can make crazy statements like that and you’ll understand.”
A rush of pleasure went through him. Although it shouldn’t really matter, shouldn’t make any difference. He wanted to pretend that her words didn’t touch him. He nodded, hoping his face showed friendliness and nothing more.
“You and your patched heart. Me and my dad,” she said. It was the first time he’d ever heard her refer to Rocky as her ‘dad’.
“You said grief is different for everyone.” She was looking at her window, eyes on the view. “And I really haven’t ever grieved my childhood. I’ve been angry, bitter, determined to never make anyone else as unhappy and worked to be the best teacher I could possibly be.” Her voice was low, rough. “But I’ve never grieved.”
Lane thought of his parents refusing to come back to Liberty, of Jamie throwing her energy into her kids and woodworking. Of himself, some days being so busy he was too tired to think of everything he’d lost. “Grief is weird. It’s exhausting even when you’re not really doing anything.”
“True. It takes so much energy some days, just to walk down the sidewalk, from the library to the doughnut shop. It’s like I’m working through all those memories on the way. By the time I get there, I’m ready to go give up.”
He let the truck drift to a stop behind the car in front of them, fighting to focus on his driving. Cars were at a standstill. Lane whispered a silent prayer for the timing and turned to her, in awe of her honesty, gripped by the rawness of her emotions. She was smiling, but it was the smile of a person who was fighting not to cry. He stretched out his hand, enfolding her small one. “I wish I could be the strength you need.”
She glanced down at their hands and he won
dered if she would pull away, shrugging. He meant every word, knew the grief she had to walk through before she could be free and he wished with all his heart he could hold her up on the journey.
Instead of retreating, she moved, lacing her slender fingers with his. She pressed her lips together. After a moment, she reached out her other hand, running her fingers over his knuckles. Her touch was warm, electrifying and he almost missed her whispered “thank you.”
A sharp honk from the car behind him brought him back to the road with a jolt. He slipped his hand from hers and shifted into gear. The atmosphere in the truck cab had changed, once again, like volatile weather. They had teased and laughed, told stories, and secrets, let go of misunderstandings and faced grief. Lane sucked in a breath. The realization of what this woman was becoming to him was so sudden, he ached with it. He felt fear like he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Love means loss. Everyone knows that.
As the cars ahead crept forward, Lane worked to keep his expression neutral but inside he felt like his heart was awakening to a new sort of misery. Old hurts were healing, and Daisy was growing past her own terrible memories, but Lane was looking into a future he didn’t want. It was a future of yearning for a woman just out of reach, a woman of grace and faith and inner strength. No matter whether she succeeded in her plans or not, whether she and Rocky reunited, she was leaving. And his heart just wasn’t getting the message.
Chapter Fourteen
Daisy let out a soft breath and tried to force her heart to a slower rhythm. So, maybe this trip wasn’t such a great idea after all. They might get a few bargains on the summer reading prizes, but she was risking much more than it was worth.
She shot Lane a quick glance. He was unshakeable, as usual. What did it take to make him lose his composure? She couldn’t imagine. She was a bundle of emotions, all fighting for space inside her heart and he was steady, calm.
Leaving Liberty Page 11
