Leaving Liberty
Page 23
“You say that now. What about when I’m here to stay?”
“I don’t get it.”
“Let’s pretend I’m staying. This is a hello kiss and not a goodbye kiss. I’m going to be here like anybody else. You’re going to see me in the grocery store, on the sidewalk, at your sister’s barbeques, at my dad’s house.” She grinned up at him. “You’ll never be able to avoid me. I’ll be calling you and wanting to sit at the river in your favorite spot and taking a ride in your truck and giving treats to Sam, even-”
He didn’t let her finish. His fingers curled through the hair at the back of her head and he paused for a moment to look deep into her eyes. She knew what he was thinking. The idea of him being near, for so long, without worrying their time was running out, was intoxicating to her.
Her heart surged with happiness and she couldn’t hold back, kissing him with everything she had, pretending it was hello and forever. Not goodbye and see you soon.
She could feel him smiling against her lips, felt his pure joy in the pressure of his hands against her back. He didn’t hurry, there was no desperation. She lost track of time with only the beat of her heart as a measurement.
“I can’t leave you two alone for a second.”
Butch stood a few feet away, chewing on a doughnut. “You’ve got low blood sugar, she said. You need a doughnut from upstairs, she said. I see what you guys did there.”
Lane squinted over at his friend. “Hey, we’re living on borrowed time.”
Daisy giggled, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks and she pulled away. “Seriously, guys. Let’s see if we can get this corner cleaned up before the afternoon volunteers get here.”
“I guess I’ll start in this supply closet. Probably has a lot of water up the inside,” Lane said, letting her go.
She looked up, startled. “Supply closet? I thought that was where the water heater was. I don’t even have a key for that.” The narrow door was set into the corner. Six feet tall and covered with layers and payers of paint, a brass knob and key plate was barely noticeable.
“It’s on the key ring. I think it’s the long brass one,” Lane said.
She pulled the keys from her pocket and gazed at them. Sure enough, there was a long skeleton key. With all the beads and doodads, she’d never thought to try out every one, but figured Marie hadn’t been great about throwing away old keys.
Turning it in the lock, the tumblers groaned together and she pulled the door open. Butch peered over her shoulder. “Yup, water up the inside. I’ll go change out the buckets and get some fresh soap.”
Daisy stared into the small area and noticed a large box on a built-in shelf near the top. “Lane, can you reach that?”
He squeezed in behind her and grunted as he pulled the box toward them. Dust swirled and they both dropped their heads, coughing. “Been up here a while. Full of books, probably.”
Setting it on a chair, Daisy moved to open the lid. Her hands were trembling and she sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t know if she could open it. She heard a thrumming in her ears and she put a hand to her chest, as if she could still her own heart.
“Hey, are you okay?” Lane put his hand over hers, voice low with concern.
“I just…” She shook her head. “Marie said something in her letter. I thought… I thought I knew what she meant but I think I was wrong.”
As she opened the lid, the first glimpse inside was lost in a shimmer of tears. Books. Lots of books. But these were no normal books. There were the books from the quilt. Raggedy Anne and the Camel with The Wrinkled Knees. The Story of Ferdinand. Five Little Peppers. And To Think I Saw It On Mulberry Street. The Story of Babar. Horton Hatches The Egg.
“Oh, Lane,” she whispered, her hand to her mouth. “These must be worth a fortune.” She gingerly retrieved a one and looked inside. “Signed Maurice Sendak, first edition.”
“Curious George. I loved this book.” Lane gently set it down and picked up another. “Is this the inheritance? Is this why she was never worried about the library?”
She blinked tears away and smiled. “I think so. In her letter, she told me the books in the box in the supply room were mine. I found a few boxes upstairs, just mysteries and some romances. I thought she meant for me to sell them at the festival.”
They gazed down at the neatly stacked volumes, bringing them out one by one, exclaiming over every familiar title. Daisy shook her head, “She must have known I’d sell them to fix the library.”
“And she knew that handing them over to the Mayor or Mrs. Lindo would probably just line their pockets.” He whistled. “Marie was a smart woman, no doubt about it.”
“If only I’d been smart enough to know there was more than one supply closet.”
“Hm. Can’t argue with that.” He ducked as she sent a half-hearted punch toward his arm and grinned. “You know what I love about this? You came here, rallied the community and fought the city. You secured the grants so the library is financially set for the foreseeable future. And the books are still here, as a backup. Marie was smart in more ways than one. She knew you’d fight for this place, whether you had a fortune at your disposal or not.”
Daisy wiped a hand over her eyes and leaned forward to give him a kiss. “That’s me, lover of the underdog.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hair. “More like the patron saint of lost causes.”
She closed her eyes and let his warmth seep into her bones. Patron saint of lost causes. She liked it.
“Something funny?”
“I was just thinking how I swore I would never live here.”
“And I swore I’d never leave.” She could hear the smile in his words.
“I guess sometimes never really means forever.”
He laughed, the sound warm and deep. “I can’t think of a single time that could be true, but then, this is a special place. Maybe it only works in Liberty.”
She nodded against him. Only in Liberty. That sounded about right. It had all started with a funeral and what she thought had been the end of Marie’s love. Instead, she’d become friends with a town, made peace with her father, and fallen in love with a man of faith and honor. Funny how things worked out sometimes.
Happily-ever-after endings really did happen, but you never knew until you came to the end. Lane’s words echoed in her head. For once, the vision of years stretching out in front of her didn’t fill her with panic. The idea of walking with Lane, day by day on this journey of hope, made her heart swell with all the glorious possibilities.
Dear reader,
Thank you for taking a trip to Liberty, Colorado! Of course, there is no such town, but there are many Carnegie libraries all across this nation. I have wonderful memories of the children’s section of our local Carnegie library. Even though the library is in a new, modern building, we’re still able to visit the Carnegie building just across the street. (I had the pleasure of running the children’s summer reading program one year, and it’s really true about the glitter. It never comes out of the carpet. Stick with crayons.)
In this story, Daisy comes home for a funeral and to pick up one item: a quilt. But she decided to change her plans and fight for the place that gave her refuge as a neglected child. Marie put her faith in Daisy and let her know she was worthy of love. That faith changed Daisy’s life and changed the course of the entire town of Liberty. We never know how much we can change the world with a little bit of love and support.
This book is dedicated to all the librarians, library staff, mentors, teachers, quilt makers, story-tellers, listeners, encouragers, and those who stand in the gap between chaos and neglected children everywhere. Thank you.
Come visit me on my facebook page of Virginia Carmichael! In the coming months I’ll have some giveaways and fun contests. Also, be sure to leave a review on Amazon and thanks for giving this book a chance!
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