Choices of the Heart

by Daniels, Julia

  “It’s a big world, isn’t it?” The older woman patted Chloe’s shoulder. “Sometimes, though, it’s the familiar, the mundane even, that will cause your heart to sing, to come alive.”

  After another gentle smile and tap, Mrs. Rowen walked away, leaving Chloe wondering. Had she ever had her heart sing? There were times at the hospital, as she watched patients recover, that she knew joy. The sight of a new baby always brought happiness.

  But had her heart ever sung?

  She knew the answer. It was plain as day, standing not ten feet away.

  Reese had made her heart sing every day.

  ~*~

  What in the world was she looking at? He turned to his side, wondering who was standing nearby. Chloe’s face had gone from sad and tear-stained to pink and vibrant, all in about the blink of an eye. What had happened to make her mood change?

  He was the only one around. Isabelle had just gone to find a seat inside the church. He knew Chloe was looking his direction. Someone walked up to her then, distracted her. What had Mrs. Rowen said to her to brighten her face so, and why had she shifted her focus squarely to him?

  He continued greeting people as they entered for the funeral. Since Ronnie and Daisy had been dead almost two weeks, gone from Broken Bow for years, it seemed pointless to have a long wake. The earlier vigil had been small. The actual funeral attendance looked to be even smaller. When it was time for the doors to shut, none of Chloe’s family had arrived.

  She didn’t comment on it, simply entered the church and found a seat in the front pew, right in front of the caskets. The wooden boxes Daisy and Ronnie had arrived in had been switched out for matching lacquered models. Not the most expensive but not the cheapest, either. They would be laid to rest next to each other on the top of the hill in the St. Francis Catholic Cemetery.

  Chloe sat away from his family. By herself, she looked small, forlorn. She kept her black-veiled head bent over her rosary as they prayed prior to the actual funeral service. Once the funeral rites began, the priest moved right along, and before Reese realized it, the service was over, and he rose to help the other pallbearers carry the caskets down the aisle.

  Chloe rode with his parents to the cemetery and stood in front of them as the final prayers were said and holy water was sprinkled over Daisy and Ronnie one final time. She looked so serene, calm and composed. Was she as broken up inside as he was?

  After people started to disperse, Chloe still remained, stock-still, lost in silent contemplation.

  He came up beside her. “Are you all right? You haven’t said much today.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, her body still square with the caskets. “Just a lot of memories floating on the air today, Reese. Daisy was a fine sister. We had a whole lot of happy times. She protected me from Pa, took the brunt of the abuse to save me from harm.”

  He stood with her in the silence of the moment, his hands folded behind his back. Sounds of motor engines igniting in the distance and the crunch of gravel under the wheels of the vehicles rumbled in the background. But the only thing Reese took notice of was the rapid beating of his heart.

  “Are you ready to leave?” he asked. “The folks are headed back to the church for dinner. The church ladies made a nice spread, Ma says.”

  “Are you anxious to get back?” She turned to face him. “Hungry?”

  “Not particularly.” He shook his head. “I’ve had a knot in my stomach since we received word of the murders.”

  “Wanna sit for a bit?” She pointed to a nearby stone bench.

  “Well, I brought Isabelle and her mom…” He looked back at the place he’d parked the Model T. He wasn’t quite ready to let his brother rest alone at the top of the hill yet. “I’ll tell the folks to go on ahead. I’ll meet up with Isabelle at the dinner.”

  She watched him walk away, his legs bowed ever so slightly from all the horseback riding he’d done over the years. He seemed more refined than she remembered. The whole town seemed less backward, friendlier than when she left. How could that be? Maybe she’d changed.

  Reese looked quite dapper today wearing a suit she’d never seen before. Of the latest style, it was a dark, rich camel color. He was broader at the shoulder, more muscular than he’d been when she’d left. Memories of their loving the night before caused her to flush. What had possessed her to go to him?

  He makes my heart sing!

  Isabelle Mathers had hovered nearby all day, hanging on Reese’s every word. Isabelle was two years older than Chloe and lived with her blind mother. Isabelle was an exceptionally nice woman, always pleasant when they were in school and afterward. She could have gone on to become a teacher, maybe. Like Chloe, she’d had aspirations. Instead, she stayed here in Broken Bow to care for her mother. Would Reese marry her? The thought made Chloe’s stomach clench. Not that it should. Reese deserved to be happy, even if it was with another woman.

  Chloe watched the Lloyds help Mrs. Mathers slide into the backseat of their motorcar and pull out of the cemetery. Reese waited until they disappeared from sight before he came back up the hill to her, carrying his suit coat folded over his arm. He’d loosened his tie and opened the top button of his striped broadcloth shirt.

  “Shall we?” He guided her toward the bench and waited for her to sit. He rested his coat on the bench in between them and took off his tie altogether. “Hate those things. Glad I only have to wear them on Sundays.”

  “Well, there are worse things you could be forced to endure.” She chuckled, thinking of the corset binding her stomach.

  “I’m sure.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  Will we discuss last night?

  “He was different after the war. You know?” Reese turned toward her.

  “I think most who went over came back different men,” she said. “He left here a boy and returned a man, having seen incredible things you and I can only imagine.”

  She extended her legs and rested her hands on the bench on either side of her.

  “If he hadn’t met those Chicago men—”

  “Who’s to say?” Chloe interrupted him. “I never would have guessed my sister even had an interest in Ronnie. I never thought she would leave Broken Bow.”

  “Remember that chicken she used to carry around with her? That small one?”

  “Tootie?” Chloe laughed. “Yeah, I remember. Pa chopped its head off one night and chased Daisy around the yard with the bloody head.”

  He grimaced. “Sorry to dredge that up.”

  “No worries. I’m just thinking about Daisy.” Chloe crossed her legs and swiveled on the bench to face him. “She had that miniature poodle she loved, too. She was forever finding strays. She’d patch up a leg here, a tail there. I thought maybe she’d become an animal doctor.” Chloe smiled and looked back up at the mound of dirt the caretakers were already using to bury the caskets. “She was smart, you know? Really smart.”

  “Mind if I smoke?”

  “Since when do you smoke, Reese?” She clucked her tongue.

  He shrugged. “Lots of things change with time.”

  She watched him pull out a package of Camel cigarettes from his coat pocket. “I’d Walk a Mile for a Camel.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think I would. But that ad’s always been kind of catchy.”

  He lit his match and took a long drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke away from her. She didn’t like the look of him with a cigarette in his mouth. It just didn’t seem to fit him. The men in Lincoln who smoked did so to look sophisticated and worldly; she had a feeling Reese smoked to relieve tension.

  “When I think of your brother, I remember his love of airplanes. All those models you and he used to construct. Those elaborate designs he would draw on wood and cut out. Especially that one big kit he ordered from the Sears and Roebuck.”

  “I still have it.”

  That didn’t surprise her, not after all the hours they spent doing building the thing, the arguments over the
paint colors and how to decorate the sides.

  “It will be a nice gift for Bobby when he gets older. Something to remember his father by.”

  They pondered that in silence.

  “Why were they killed, Chloe Anne?”

  She swallowed. The way he said the pet name he’d always used for her still had an effect on her, made the lining of her stomach tingle. The odd thing was it also brought tears to her eyes. Or was that from the reminder of how her sister died…or maybe the thought of what they’d shared the night before?

  “Bootlegging,” she blurted it out before thinking what his reaction might be. She’d been fearful to say it out loud to anyone else, worried it would reflect badly on Daisy and Ronnie. This was Reese, though, and over the years, she’d never held any thoughts back from him. He had always been her closest friend.

  Her statement got Reese’s attention. He exhaled a breath of cigarette smoke and turned toward her, a look of astonishment on his face. He flicked his cigarette on the ground and turned full around to face her.

  “You-do-not-know-what-you’re-talking-about.” Reese’s words were jerky, spoken through a clenched jaw. He popped off the bench as if it were on fire and stalked away, his back facing her.

  “Why else would they not be in contact with us?” Chloe continued to prod. “You were close to your brother. Your family is tight-knit. Why would he break contact unless he was ashamed of what he was doing?”

  Chloe watched Reese pull farther away, shake his head back and forth. She really should have eased into her theory. Ronnie was Reese’s hero. He’d looked up to his brother with stars in his eyes.

  “Reese, if he was proud of his accomplishments, he would have told you,” she continued. “Just as he did when he was in the war.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t making it.” His voice sounded like a whip. “He was there for almost five years. Maybe…” He paused and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe he wasn’t at all successful, and he was too embarrassed to ask us for help. He’d never do anything illegal—not bootlegging. He wasn’t a drinker.”

  “People, good people, don’t just get murdered,” Chloe said. “I’m not saying your brother was bad, but why did he stop contacting his family? Something doesn’t seem quite right here.”

  “It wasn’t bootlegging.” He turned back toward her and lit another cigarette. “What did the child welfare lady tell you?”

  “Nothing. She was just happy to be rid of Bobby and be on her way back to Chicago.” Chloe was still disgusted by the woman’s attitude.

  “Well, the telegram and letter we got didn’t say much, either.” He turned away from her to blow out his smoke. “I’ve got the address of the police. Suppose I should contact them? Find out what the real story is?”

  “Do you want to know?” she asked quietly. She stood and joined him, surprised he pulled away when she touched his arm.

  “Yes, damn it, I want to know why Ronnie died. I want to know who is responsible and to see them brought to justice.”

  “But—”

  “He left us. But that doesn’t mean I forgot about him. Even if he forgot about me.”

  He stomped out his cigarette and stalked to his car. He climbed in and slammed the door shut. Chloe wondered if he would leave her there. He hadn’t only been referring to his brother with that statement; he was referring to her departure from his life, as well.

  Well, that went well.

  She looked back at the graves before crossing her arms and following the same path Reese took toward his black Model T. She paused in front of her mother’s grave, crossed herself and said a quick prayer.

  He started the engine as she neared. If she expected him to open the door, she was sadly mistaken. She opened it herself and climbed in. Without a word or even a glance, he put the vehicle in gear and started down the gravel hill toward town.

  Tension deep and dark, like the bottom of a well, swirled around them. Reese stared straight ahead, his jaw working as she studied his profile.

  “I doubt he forgot about you, Reese,” Chloe ventured softly.

  “I reckon cities seem to rob lots of folks of their memories.”

  She had no desire to fight with the man. It was a sad day in both their lives. It wouldn’t pay to face sadness with anger.

  They bumped along in ugly, uncomfortable silence. The landscape hadn’t changed since she’d left. A few new homes, all of them exactly the same style, had been built along the way. She recognized them as the kit homes the railroad would bring out to Broken Bow. Imagine being able to order a whole home in a box! The war changed the world so much from when she was a child. Her own freedoms, those of women in general, were a prime example. She, a woman, would be able to vote for president in November!

  Reese pulled up to the church hall and cut the engine. She reached for the handle and opened her door. The tension between them had become unbearable, and she wasn’t even certain he’d be a gentleman and help her out.

  She didn’t wait for him. Instead, she went through the hall doors, following the smell of baked chicken and potatoes. The sooner she ate, the sooner she could go home and cry herself to sleep.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you doing all right, Reese?”

  A gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from his musings. He turned toward the voice, burying his wayward thoughts. He smiled at Isabelle and pushed his back away from the brick wall outside the church’s social hall.

  “I’m fine.” He took a final puff on his cigarette then threw it to the ground and stomped it out. He looked back up with what he hoped was a legitimate-looking smile.

  “It’s been a difficult day for you.” She looked away. “For many reasons.” The last came through as a whisper, as if she didn’t intend for him to hear it.

  She was a good woman. If he had half a brain, he’d marry her as soon as possible, get Chloe out of his mind. Isabelle was his future, and he needed to keep that at the front of his mind. So what if she didn’t make his body hum like Chloe did. Maybe in time, she’d come to provide him the same excitement he felt whenever Chloe was near.

  Who am I kidding?

  “Let’s join the rest, shall we?” He threaded Isabelle’s dainty hand through his bent arm and led her back inside the hall. People were beginning to say their goodbyes.

  “Would you like to come for supper tonight, Reese?” Her voice was quiet, soft. Her blue eyes pleaded with him to say yes. She wore her emotions on her face, the hope she felt, obvious. “I need to take Mother home. She’s looking rather peaked. It’s about time for her medications.”

  He followed Isabelle’s gaze to the table where her blind mother sat. That, he supposed, was the reason he hadn’t married Isabelle yet. Call it selfishness or just plain callousness, he didn’t want to live with a mother-in-law. He looked back at Isabelle, who was smiling at him, waiting for his answer. Pretty, sweet and a hard worker, she’d make him a fine wife. He’d be lucky to have such a woman at his side—mother-in-law or not.

  “I would be honored, Isabelle.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  Her smile grew, and he felt pleased he’d made her happy.

  “Very well.” She nodded and patted his arm, an excitement swirling in the air around her. “Why not stop by after your evening chores? I’ll make a roast and your favorite new potatoes.”

  “Sounds just fine. I’ll be there.”

  After another pat on his arm, she left him to tend to her mother. Had they been alone, she would have kissed his cheek, as she often did. But not in public, not in front of some of the biggest gossips in town.

  He watched her gather up her mother and say goodbye to his parents. Isabelle waved back to him as she left the hall, her mother leaning heavily on her arm.

  The few ladies who remained were cleaning up the kitchen, and a small group of older women talked quietly at a corner table. His mother and father were gathering up the leftover food for later meals.

  Chloe had disappeared.

&nb
sp; “Can I help carry anything?” he asked, joining his folks at the folding buffet tables.

  “Sure.” His dad handed him a crate with food inside. “Go ahead and set it inside the motorcar.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Barker, ladies.” Reese nodded with a smile to the woman in the kitchen. “Dinner was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Lloyd.” She stopped wiping up the counter. “We’re all very sorry for your loss.”

  Reese nodded, the lump in his throat making it impossible to say anything more. It hit him in waves, the sadness, the loss. Add that to the anxiety of having Chloe near again, and he felt as if his world was spiraling like water down the drain.

  He walked to what he believed was his parent’s Model T and looked inside to make sure it was theirs. Maybe someday, Mr. Ford would make the motorcars in different colors. With them being all black, it was hard sometimes to tell whose was whose. His father had set a bright-orange neckerchief on the dashboard, making it easier to distinguish his motorcar from the others.

  Reese bent inside and placed the box of food on the backseat. He shut the door and turned around to head back to the hall to get more leftovers.

  “I’m glad you found someone to love, Reese.”

  He hadn’t even heard Chloe sneak up on the gravel road behind him.

  She moved closer and touched his arm. “Someone to love you.”

  He tried to hold back, to stop himself from what he was about to ask. He wanted to know, but he really didn’t want to know. “Is that man waiting on you in Lincoln? The one you said you dated?”

  He held his breath, waiting for her answer. Even if she said no, it didn’t mean she still wanted Reese. And he had damn well worn out his heart waiting for her.

  “No,” she answered.

  She looked away, but not before he saw a wistful expression in her eyes. Her scent pulled him nearer to her. Lavender and vanilla—the same scented water she’d always worn. He hadn’t smelled it in so long; it was like a drug, intoxicating him, drawing him in.