by Brenda Novak
“Despite what she did?”
“Apparently she tried to warn him that she didn’t like her own child, that she was jealous of his love for Mary and didn’t want Mary in the house. He thought it was just more of the crazy things she sometimes said, never suspected she’d act the way she did. When she was herself, she was a wonderful person. But, according to what he told his brother, she had these dark moods. He didn’t know what they were all about or how to get her the help she needed. Things back then weren’t like they are today when it comes to depression and mental illness, you know? So John handled the situation the best he could, by keeping her separate from other people, making sure she couldn’t harm anyone else.”
“No wonder everyone thought he was the bad guy. He took total control of her. But...people reported seeing bruises on the rare occasions when she did get out.”
“It probably became difficult, at times, to keep her under control. Maybe she tried to slip out, and he had to physically hold her down. Or her behavior frustrated him so much his temper occasionally boiled over. I’m not saying he was a saint. But he wasn’t a murderer. From what Ted heard, she might even have hurt herself. She tried that sometimes.”
“So why would she burn his train set?”
“Ted wondered the same thing. He thinks it reminded her of the basement and what she’d done.”
“What a tragic situation.” Somehow Eve found it worse to imagine Harriett as the culprit than John. Poor Mary!
“In every way,” Sophia agreed. “That Harriett could do it, and that John would not only have to bear the grief of Mary’s loss but care for a woman who was mentally ill for the rest of his life.”
“John held the truth so close. Why did he finally tell his brother?”
“He had to. Once he fell down the stairs and broke his hip, he knew he might not be able to act as her guardian. If he died, someone had to take care of her, had to know she couldn’t be trusted around children.” She paused. “Willard, John’s nephew, and his wife, Betsy, took over the house—with the stipulation that they look after Harriett.”
“So she ran away because she feared she couldn’t rely on his nephew to be kind to her?”
“It’s possible he wouldn’t have been. He was considerably younger, and he and Betsy were newly married. Anyway, that’s what Ted believes.”
“Wow.” Eve shook her head. “Is Ted going to put all of this in his book?”
“He is. The pieces finally fit together. He won’t be able to present any forensic proof, of course, but he’ll do what he can to clear John’s name—for Patrick and John’s other descendants, and Mary, too.”
Was that what Mary had been waiting for? Would the strange noises and disturbances now stop? Either way, Mary had died just before Christmas. Somehow it was fitting that the truth had finally come out at Christmastime.
“Thanks for everything,” Eve said. “And please tell Ted how much I appreciate what he’s done. The truth, despite its sadness, does bring some closure.”
Sophia winked at her. “Maybe you’ll call later and tell him yourself.”
When Eve nodded, Sophia squeezed her hands and left.
Pam came out of the kitchen carrying the heated container of wassail. “I hope we get a good crowd tonight,” she said.
Feeling teary-eyed, for Mary’s sake and because of the friendship Sophia had just shown her, Eve averted her face and pretended to smooth a wrinkle out of the tablecloth. “I’m sure we will.”
“It’s been so hectic this season I haven’t really taken the time to enjoy it,” Pam said. “But I’m feeling the Christmas spirit tonight.”
Although Eve couldn’t look up—she didn’t want Pam to see that her eyes were wet—she had to agree. This evening was dedicated to raising money for children who wouldn’t get anything for Christmas otherwise. That, along with John’s long-ago sacrifice for his mentally ill wife and Sophia’s sacrifice in offering to put off having her own child, even though Eve would never encourage her to do that, was what Christmas was all about.
* * *
Rex watched Eve from a distance. She’d spent most of the evening in the front parlor at Little Mary’s, providing hot drinks and cookies and nodding and smiling at everyone who visited her inn. He knew because the place was lit up with all the Christmas lights and, from where he was leaning against his rental car down the street, he’d been able to spot her occasionally through the window, milling about in the crowd. Her parents had been there for a while, too. Now that it was getting late, and there weren’t many people left, she’d come out to enjoy the celebration herself. Arm in arm with Callie Something—he couldn’t remember Callie’s last name but she was one of the people he’d met in the hospital waiting room—Eve meandered from booth to booth.
“Hey.”
Startled to hear a voice so close to him, Rex twisted around to see another of Eve’s friends coming up from behind. He’d met so many people when Cheyenne had her baby, he couldn’t remember the name of this guy, either. “Hi.”
“Sort of removed from the action, aren’t you?”
“Guess so.”
“Why are you standing over here in the dark?”
“I’m waiting for Mrs. Higgins. I gave her a ride and I’ll need to take her home.” Some of the vendors were beginning to pack up. He didn’t think it would be much longer before Mrs. Higgins was ready to leave.
“I’m Kyle.” The other guy stuck out his hand. “We met last night.”
“Yes. I remember.” Rex shook hands with him, then leaned against the car again.
“My ex-wife is Noelle Arnold.”
That was one name Rex wasn’t likely to forget. “I’m sorry.”
“I see you’re familiar with her,” Kyle said with a chuckle.
“I am.”
“She mentioned that you and Eve, er, met at Sexy Sadie’s, but I didn’t realize you were...you know, actually seeing each other until last night.”
Were they seeing each other? At this point, Rex would probably describe it more as a series of hit-and-runs. He knew he should leave her alone but couldn’t stay away. “I won’t be in town for long.”
“Eve hasn’t met up with us in three weeks. I feel as if I’m out of the loop on what’s going in her life.”
“Met up with us? You mean you and Noelle?”
“No. Eve and I belong to a group of friends who have coffee together every Friday at Black Gold.”
Rex nodded, thinking it must be nice to have such a strong network. These days, people didn’t stay put the way they used to, so something like that was rare. “Only in Whiskey Creek.”
Kyle didn’t seem to know how to take the comment. “You don’t like it here?”
“I do. It’s like...a snow globe,” he said, voicing what he’d often thought of the place.
Kyle laughed. “Is that why you’re standing over here, just watching everyone?”
He was standing to the side because he didn’t belong, could never belong, and didn’t want to disrupt the lives of those who did. “No need for me to get in the way.”
“Of the party?” he said with a scowl.
Of Eve’s life, of everything she had to look forward to. When he drove out of San Francisco for the last time, he’d planned to stay only one or two nights, long enough to buy some clothes and get another computer. But he’d paid rent at Mrs. Higgins’s through December. Given the fact that money might become extremely tight until he could get his business up and running again, he figured he should conserve where possible. What was the difference between leaving now or after Christmas?
“Of the relationships here,” he replied.
“We’re not as unfriendly to outsiders as we might seem.” Clasping Rex by the shoulder, Kyle dragged him out of the shadows and into the flow of pedestrians.
Rex could smell alcohol on Kyle’s breath and suspected the guy was a bit tipsy. But he wasn’t falling-down drunk, and Rex couldn’t help feeling a sense of relief at encountering a little fri
endliness.
“How ’bout we get you a drink?” Kyle said.
They stopped at a vendor selling beer, but before Rex could order, Kyle noticed that Eve wasn’t far away and called out to her. “Hey, Harmon! Look who I found.”
When Eve glanced up, she said something to Callie, who nodded and called Kyle over. A second later, they walked off, leaving her to approach him alone.
“I wondered if you were going to show up tonight,” she said.
He offered her a lopsided smile. “Mrs. Higgins wouldn’t hear of me staying home and missing the celebration.”
She looked around. “Where is she?”
“I drove her here, but as soon I parked, she got out and hurried off to help with some quilt for an orphanage or something. I haven’t seen her since.”
“That quilt is actually for our ‘Sub for Santa’ project. She and the other members of the historical society sew one every year.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah.” Eve rubbed her hands against the cold. “Does that mean you’re staying at her place?”
“For the time being.”
“Because...”
“It’s for the best, Eve. Don’t pretend it’s not.”
“So that’s it?”
“Better now than later. It’ll only get harder.”
She considered him for several seconds. Then she said, “Tell me something.”
He met her gaze a bit reluctantly. “What’s that?”
“Is it really your situation that’s got you running so scared? Or is it that I’m going to have your baby?” She started to walk away, but he grabbed her arm.
“I’ll still pay, if that’s the problem.”
“That’s definitely not the problem. I don’t even want your money.”
“Then what are you accusing me of?” he asked. “I’m thirty-six, Eve. You think, at this age, I’d be afraid of the responsibility of having a child?”
She jerked out of his grasp. “I think you’re afraid of getting too close to me or anyone else. That you believe you’ve failed your father, your mother, your brothers, Laurel, almost everyone who’s ever really meant anything to you—and you’re afraid you’ll fail again. So you’ve locked your heart in a cage and you reject any love that comes your way.”
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Eve,” he said.
“Can you honestly tell me I’m wrong?” she asked. “Have you ever wondered why you keep everyone at arm’s length? Always hover on the periphery so you can make a quick exit? Tell the women you sleep with not to expect anything from you?”
“I don’t need to wonder. The fact that my house just got shot to hell answers that question,” he said. “This thing with The Crew—it isn’t a game, Eve. And it’s not me I’m afraid will get hurt!”
“Yes, it is,” she insisted. “Maybe you’re not afraid of bullets. You’ve proven that. But you’re afraid of other things besides The Crew. If you weren’t, you’d keep the name Brent Taylor and stay right here.”
“I would.”
She lifted her chin. “Yes. You want to, or you’d already be gone. You know Whiskey Creek would be good for you, probably the best place you’ve come across, at least recently. But you won’t let yourself put down any roots, because you don’t think you deserve it.”
“That’s bullshit,” he growled.
“Is it? Tell me this. How is Phoenix or...or Portland or Seattle any better for you than here? Those places are just farther away. That’s all.”
“They offer me a chance to make a living!”
“What you do for a living puts you at risk of being found again. You admitted that’s probably how they found you this time. You need to give it up and start over. Really start over.”
“And do what?”
“You’re smart enough to figure something out.”
“So you want me to stay here? Want me to...what? Be with you? We only met three weeks ago!”
She shook her head in apparent disgust. “That’s it, then? What we feel doesn’t count because it’s so new?”
“It’s not much to base a relationship on!”
“And if you have your way, we won’t get the chance to base it on anything more. You’ll make sure of it.”
“I don’t have any choice!”
“Yes, you do. Fight for what we could have—for the chance to be a father. I believe you would if you thought you deserved the happiness it could bring. But you’ll move on, and you’ll keep moving on every time you meet someone who could mean something to you until...when?” she asked. “Where will it end?”
“Stop it,” he replied. “I can’t love you, Eve. That would only give me someone else to lose. Why would I put myself in that position?”
“Why did Virgil put himself in that position?” she asked.
When he didn’t answer, she said, “Because having someone is worth the risk. But if you keep lying to yourself, keep telling yourself it’s The Crew that’s stopping you from making any sort of commitment, you’ll wander through life alone.”
28
She’d done the right thing, Eve told herself. Rex needed to hear the truth and she needed to face it. But Eve couldn’t go home for fear that she’d stare at the ceiling all night, thinking about him. So she drove over to the hospital.
“How was Victorian Days?” Cheyenne asked as soon as Eve walked into the room.
Dylan was sitting in a rocking chair next to Cheyenne’s bed, holding Kellan and watching him sleep in that love-drunk way so many new parents gazed at their babies.
“Fun.” Eve forced a smile and asked to hold the baby. But after a few minutes, Cheyenne let her know she wasn’t fooled by the small talk.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she said.
“Nothing,” Eve insisted.
Cheyenne gave her husband a pleading look. “Honey, is there any chance you could take the baby for a stroll through the hospital?”
Dylan had been running a finger over the peach fuzz on Kellan’s head while Eve held him, and hadn’t really been listening, which was obvious when he blinked and focused on his wife. “What did you say?”
She grinned at his preoccupation. “He’s been like this all day,” she explained to Eve. “It would be nice if you would take your son out of the room for a few minutes. I’d like to talk to Eve alone, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” He took the baby from Eve, cradling Kellan as carefully as though he were made of glass and flashing her a proud but embarrassed smile.
“Your baby’s beautiful,” she told him as he left. Then she turned Cheyenne. “It looks like Daddy’s happy.”
“I want this baby to be...an uncomplicated joy for him. You understand, don’t you?”
They were talking about the way she’d gotten pregnant. “I understand that you love him and did what you thought would serve him best. But...I just about had a heart attack when he named the baby after Aaron. Didn’t you try to discourage that?”
“No. I couldn’t say anything.”
“Why not?”
Cheyenne dragged a hand through her hair. “Because it would’ve seemed strange. Aaron’s always been the black sheep of the family. Now that everyone’s maturing, things are getting easier between them, but Dylan wants to make sure all those old fences have been mended.”
“He couldn’t do that a different way?”
Cheyenne sighed. “He was so excited when he came up with the idea I didn’t have the heart to tell him Aaron probably wouldn’t be pleased.”
Or that it would be a constant reminder of their secret, Eve thought, but she didn’t say that.
Cheyenne angled her head to catch Eve’s eye. “How did he react?”
Eve considered telling the truth—that Aaron had looked like he’d swallowed something difficult to get down. But she didn’t see how that would lighten Cheyenne’s concerns, and there was no point in adding to her worries. “He seemed fine with it. I’m sure that as time goes by, it’ll get easier to...you know,
forget.”
“Yeah.”
“And this baby will be a breeze for Dylan to raise, nothing like what he went through with his brothers.”
“Dylan loves his brothers as fiercely as he loves that baby,” Cheyenne said. “And they love him, or...or Kellan wouldn’t be here.”
“I know.” Eve fiddled with the strap of her purse.
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Cheyenne asked.
“I don’t think so. I just wanted to check in.”
“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re leaving already!”
“I’ve got three more nights of Victorian Days ahead. I should get some sleep so I can be a little more engaged than I was today.”
“Why weren’t you engaged today?”
Eve gave her a look. “You have to ask?”
Cheyenne reached for her hand. “Did you tell Rex about the pregnancy?”
She nodded.
“And? What did he say?”
“Nothing. He made it clear from the beginning that he wouldn’t be staying. Having a baby won’t change his mind. He’ll pay child support, and that’s it.”
“He said as much?”
Eve considered the conversations she’d had with him earlier and then the one tonight. “Yeah. He said as much.”
“So where will he go?”
“I have no idea. And he won’t be able to tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” Cheyenne said.
Tears burned Eve’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “It’s okay. I think. I’ll get over him, right? That’s what my mother would tell me.”
“Maybe his situation will change, allow him to come back.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “He’s running from more than The Crew.”
Cheyenne looked alarmed. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing more than what you might’ve guessed. He’s trying to protect himself from suffering like he did in the past—by shoving away all the people who’d care about him if he’d let them. And what kind of life is that?”
