Leaving Liberty

by Virginia Carmichael

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Grab that end and lift!” Nita called over the top of the plywood booth and heaved on the corner. It scooted across the pavement, screeching ominously.

  “Wait, I think we’re going to tear something loose.” Daisy wiped the rain from her eyes and tried to get a better grip on the wood. The sunny barbeque at the cabin last Sunday was only a beautiful memory. The clouds had moved in early Monday and it had rained steadily ever since. Now, at one in the afternoon on the Wednesday before the festival, Daisy was having serious qualms about going ahead with their plans.

  “We need to get some men over here. Why don’t you call Lane?” Ana held an umbrella over Nita’s head and peered down the street toward the station, as if she could see him from where they stood.

  Daisy said nothing. She hadn’t called Lane because she’d really, really wanted to. She’d picked up her phone twenty times and snapped it closed without dialing. The way her heart started to pound just holding the phone was enough to make her willing to carry the booth all the way to city hall. She’d definitely moved past the crush stage and on into needing him near her all the time. Which was a dead end street, any way she looked at it.

  The rain drops increased suddenly, falling faster and harder. Daisy nodded at Nita and she grabbed the end of the booth one more time. She heaved and they carried it a few more feet, until Daisy’s shoes slid out from under her. She went down with a thump, splattering mud several feet. A sharp pain flashed through her leg and she let out a cry.

  “Daisy?” Nita rushed over, bending down to get a closer look. “Did you twist something?”

  She blinked spots from her eyes and dragged in a breath. “No, not twisted.” Her voice was rough with pain. She grabbed her courage and looked down at her leg. Her pants were torn and a large scrape was visible, oozing blood.

  “That’s it. I’m calling Lane. And he can bring all his hot cop co-workers, too.” Ana stomped toward the library steps.

  “Not now you don’t!” Daisy struggled to get up, her hands sinking deeper into the ooze. She made it upright, straining to see behind her own back. “I’m covered in mud. I look like a mud monster.”

  Ana’s lips curved up. “Only from the front. Just don’t turn around.” She escaped into the library.

  “Let’s get you under the porch,” Nita said, waving her toward the small overhang near the basement entrance. She bent down, inspecting the scrape. “You’re going to have a mighty fine bruise there. It’s a war wound to take back.”

  They huddled together, watching the rain pour down. Daisy wrapped her arms around her middle and fought back the ache in her throat. There was still no word on the grants. The festival was scheduled in the pouring rain. The hot cop was expected any moment and she was bleeding and covered in mud. Her life stunk.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for us this summer,” Nita said softly.

  Daisy sniffed back tears and nodded, determined to hold it together. “My pleasure.”

  Nita laughed, shaking her head. “Not always. You can’t tell me you were having a great time writing all those grant applications or calling city residents and asking for donations.”

  She shrugged, the cold dampness of her shirt sending chills through her body. “Not that it mattered. We’re hardly any closer to saving this library. I feel like I failed Marie.”

  Nita fixed her gaze on her. “You can’t be serious.”

  “This library meant everything to her. It was the one thing that mattered in this town and I can’t keep it from being shut down.” Her throat closed completely and hot tears slipped out from the corners of her eyes.

  “Daisy McConnell, that is not true.”

  She sniffed loudly, unable to speak. How could it be otherwise?

  “The one thing that mattered to Marie was not this library. It was the people of Liberty. And you. You were the one person she loved more than any other.”

  Daisy raised her eyes, unable to keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks. Nita was right. Gruff, bossy Nita had pegged Marie. She nodded, swallowing hard. “I think you’re right. Without the kids, Marie wouldn’t have kept running this place.”

  Nita faced the rain again. “I miss her.”

  “Me, too,” Daisy whispered. The only sound was the rain pounding on the little roof above them. She’d thought if she saved the library, she’d keep Marie’s memory alive. That was an empty hope, a trap. Marie was so much bigger than this place. Her love lived on in every kid she’d helped and in every person she’d served.

  “There they are.” Nita pointed down the sidewalk. Three patrol cars drove down Main Street, lights flashing. They all pulled to a stop and six officers exited the vehicles in unison.

  “Did they think we were in trouble?” Daisy was horrified that Ana might have placed a 911 call for nothing.

  They rushed out from the overhang to meet the group under the big oak. Daisy’s leg ached with every step. The rain still fell steadily through the branches, but it was just enough cover they could talk. Lane scoped out the yard, blue eyes narrowed, tension in every line of his face.

  “Ana rang the station and said you guys needed help.” Butch looked toward the library. “Is the roof falling in?”

  “I think there’s been a big misunderstanding.” Daisy felt her face go hot.

  Ana came down the library steps, popping the red umbrella back into shape. “Wow, you guys are fast! Sorry about that call. The phone cut off.”

  Daisy straightened her shoulders. This was her fault. “We just need to set the booths on the patio over there. We can’t seem to get it over the grass without slipping, and it’s tearing up the wood.”

  There was a moment of silence and Lane started to laugh. “Calling 911 for help and hanging up will get you some help, that’s for sure.”

  “We’re headed back to the station,” an older man said, already leading his fellow officers to the patrol cars that idled at the curb, lights still flashing.

  “Butch and I can carry the booths.” Lane gestured and the two stepped out from under the tree. She tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her leg and forced a smile as he passed.

  “I feel guilty, like I should be helping,” Daisy said.

  “Don’t know why. We tried. No sense in doing the job wrong if there’s someone here to help us do it right.”

  Minutes later the booths were arranged on the cement car park at the side of the library. Lane approached, tugging his cap. Daisy felt her heart squeeze a bit at the familiar sight: the dark hair soaked with rain, his police–issue rain slicker, the black cap and under it those bright blue eyes.

  “Is that all you needed? I can stick around for a bit since I’m on my lunch hour now.” He seemed nervous, his smile tighter than usual. Maybe he hated the rain as much as she did, maybe he just didn’t like being yanked out of the station for furniture moving duties.

  Daisy shook her head. ““I’m really sorry about that phone call and I appreciate your help. You should go conserve your strength for this weekend. Being the main draw in the dunk tank is no small role. You’re our last hope of saving the library.”

  She’d meant the words lightly, but they came out flat.

  His gaze searched her face, as if noticing for the first time she had been crying. “I’ll be there. Whatever you need.”

  His words hung in the air. Daisy nodded and tried to look enthusiastic. “I’ll let you know.”

  Lane nodded and Butch gave a jaunty salute. She let out a breath of relief. He hadn’t noticed her pig-in-the-mud impression, apparently. As he turned, his gaze traveled down her outfit and he froze.

  Seconds later he was crouched in front of her, one hand gently lifting the torn material of her pants leg.

  “It’s nothing. I’ll go in and wash it right now.” Daisy didn’t want to look. She’d seen it oozing blood and it was enough to make spots dance in front of her eyes.

  “Butch, will you get the first aid kit from the trunk?” His voice was ca
lm and even.

  “We have Band-Aids inside.” She’d never been good about accepting help and all she wanted right now was to hide away.

  “Band aids won’t help much. You’ve got some serious swelling. Let’s get out of this rain.” He stood up and took her elbow, guiding her toward the steps.

  Daisy wanted to protest, but knew she would look even sillier. She tried not to limp, but her leg ached with every step.

  “Lean on me,” he said, putting one arm around her waist.

  Nita, Ana and Butch followed behind. Daisy wished for all the world they didn’t have witnesses. It was bad enough being the walking wounded when she wanted to be strong and capable.

  “I’ll head back to the station,” Butch said as they reached the front doors. He handed the keys to Lane and the first aid box to Nita. “I need to stop at Nancy’s for a doughnut. All that lifting gave me an appetite.”

  Lane snorted but he was smiling. Daisy shot him a glance and looked away. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept well or was struggling under a secret burden. Daisy wondered about Tara and if she was back in town this week, then hated herself for wondering.

  “You two go on ahead into Marie’s office. We’ll watch the desk.” Nita turned and Daisy could have sworn she saw her give Ana a look. It was a ‘give them some space’ look. Well, space wasn’t going to help the situation, but she didn’t want a big crowd for the doctoring, either. She sat in a chair just inside the door and Lane gently rolled up the leg of her pants. She was glad she’d just shaved her legs that morning. It was like the old advice about wearing clean underwear in case of an accident. Always keep your legs shaved in case the handsome cop needs to run his fingers over your calf. She snorted at her own advice.

  Lane glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Something funny?”

  “It’s just like every terrible romance book I ever read as a teenager.”

  “How so?” He’d dropped his gaze, gently cleaning the area with antiseptic swabs.

  “You know, heroine gets injured and hero gallantly treats her wounds while winning her heart.” She waved a hand. “Old story. Done a million times.”

  He said nothing for a few moments. “Doesn’t sound so terrible to me.”

  She looked down and then jerked her gaze away. Her shin sported an enormous purple lump. The cut wasn’t very large, but the front of her leg was grotesquely swollen. She quickly looked away as she said, “It’s just so unlikely. And it always ends with a happy ending. Always.”

  His mouth went tight and he reached for a sterile non-stick pad. “I’m a fan of happy endings. Nothing wrong with a happy ending.”

  “It just doesn’t happen; it’s not realistic.” She didn’t know why she was arguing the point, but her voice went up a notch.

  Shrugging, he said, “My parents married right out of high school They’re pretty happy.”

  “Huh. So did mine.” The rest of the sentence didn’t need to be finished. They both knew how her parents’ marriage had turned out.

  He wrapped gauze around her leg to hold the dressing in place and said nothing.

  Daisy chewed her lip. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’m probably just projecting my own experiences on the world.”

  Looking up, he smiled for the first time, eyes crinkling at the corners. His hand was warm where he held the gauze in place. “That’s more like it. Every person carries their own story. You can’t just write off happy endings.”

  She didn’t say anything, her mouth had gone dry. He seemed to be talking directly to her, to them. As if there was even a chance at some kind of future for the two of them. Her heart started to beat double time and she swallowed hard. “But it’s so rare.”

  “Really?” He tore two pieces of medical tape from a roll. “That’s the thing about happy endings. You just never know until you reach the very end.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not very encouraging. So you live your life hoping for the best?”

  He carefully smoothed the gauze before securing it with the tape. He sat back on his heels and cocked his head. “It’s funny.”

  “What is?”

  “You came to Liberty and immediately decided you could save the library. You hoped you could.”

  “Okay.” She was trying to follow him. “But that’s different.”

  “Is it? The library is practically a lost cause and you gave up your whole summer and paid rent on two places at once. That’s a lot of effort.”

  Daisy stared down at her leg and shook her head. “But saving the library is worth it.”

  He briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were shadowed with pain. “Right. You worked and hoped and fought because the library is worth it. Happy endings for people don’t happen by accident either. But both people have to believe it’s worth all the work.”

  She opened her mouth so speak, but nothing occurred to her. There was no witty response to that. Relationships failed and it wasn’t always a mystery. There wasn’t a magic potion someone could take. It took work.

  Daisy glanced at him and their gaze locked. She wasn’t sure, she couldn’t tell, but maybe, just maybe, Lane was asking her what she thought. Were they worth the work? Could she live her life hoping for a happy ending? Her throat squeezed closed in fear. She wasn’t ready; she didn’t have the courage for that kind of love.

  “You’d better get back,” she said. “Butch might eat all the doughnuts.”

  Her words hung in the air between them, the thump of her pulse the only sound in her ears.

  “Saturday morning, bright and early.” He flashed a small smile and gathered up the kit. “Pray for sun.”

  She nodded. When he left the office, she sat, unmoving in Marie’s old chair. The rain pattered against the window and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sight. A lost cause. Saving the library had never been anything other than a dream.

  Marie had given her the strength to fight for the library, because Daisy loved her so much, even her memory was enough. She didn’t think she had the strength to fight for anything or anyone else, not that way.

  She swallowed hard. Something was lodged in her throat like a hot stone. It felt like grief, but not the old, familiar one from Marie’s passing. It was new and painful and Daisy had a horrible feeling that it would be with her for a long, long time after she left this town.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “You’re not allowed to play, Toby.” Lane shook the water out of his ears and wagged a finger at the kid in front of him. “Now way, no how. I know you can throw twenty perfect pitches and I’m not in any mood to spend that much time in this cold water.”

  Toby pretended to be shocked, but Lane could tell he was pleased by the compliment. The dunk tank was the most popular game at the festival, but even with the warm sun, the water must have been barely sixty degrees. The crowd in front of the library had been steady since it opened at nine and the smell of barbeque ribs reminded him he needed a lunch break.

  “What about my little sister? Can I buy tickets for her?”

  “Sure.” He smiled down at the little girl who had the same sandy blond hair as Toby. “Give her as many as you want.”

  Ten minutes later, he called a halt and escaped the dunk tank. Butch handed him a towel and chuckled. “Looks like you won’t need a bath for a while. Got good and wet in there.”

  Lane toweled off his hair and shivered. “I need some food before I get back in.” He grabbed his bag from the ground and headed into the library to change.

  Rhonda and Russell were parked at a pick nick table eating ribs, the old hound licking a long piece of bone he held between his front paws. Nancy and her husband Marco sat across from them, laughing. Nancy waved and pointed to the empty spot at the table. Lane lifted his bag and pointed at the library, silent communication for ‘I really need to get out of these wet clothes’. She nodded and went back to her conversation.

  Lane dodged a little boy with a fistful of cotton candy and took the stairs two at a time. Ju
st as he reached the door, it swung outward.

  “Oh!” Daisy’s startled expression told him more about his appearance than a mirror ever could.

  He smoothed down his hair and tried to look cool, calm, and collected. He had the cool down. He could feel goose bumps on every inch of exposed skin and a lot that wasn’t. “Hi, just changing for lunch then I’ll be back out there.”

  Nodding, she glanced behind him and then spoke. “I might not get a chance to thank you later, but I…” Her voice trailed off, as if she didn’t know what else to say.

  He waited, eyebrows raised, wishing he wasn’t dripping a puddle on the front step.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done. For the library and for me.” To his surprise, her eyes shone with unshed tears. She let out a sound of frustration and swiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You must think I’m the most emotional woman on the planet.”

  He didn’t. Not at all.

  Dragging in a shaky breath, she forced a smile. “So, thank you. For everything.”

  Lane dropped his gaze. He had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was a goodbye speech. Of course it had to come sometime, he just hadn’t expected it today, in the bright sun during a crowded festival. “You’re welcome. As always.”

  “I better get out of your way,” she said, stepping out of the doorway and heading down the steps. He took the handle, barely feeling the cold metal against his skin. His whole body felt numb, except for something that burned sharply in his chest.

  This day had been coming and he’d always known it. Now that it was happening, he couldn’t force down the wall of hard grief that slammed through him. There wasn’t anything to be done about it. She was leaving and he was staying. The last time they’d talked she had made it really clear that she wouldn’t ever drop everything for a relationship and that she could never live with only the hope that they would be happier than her own parents.

  Lane leaned his forehead against the library foyer wall. Thy will be done. That was all he had and he hoped that God could fill in the rest. He was all out of words.