A Promise Of Home (A Lake Howling Novel Book 1)

by Wendy Vella

  She owed Belle Smith more than simple friendship; she owed her for saving her life.

  “I have to go now, Branna.”

  “Okay, Mikey, you want me to run you home?” He’d come into the kitchen and was sniffing the air like a bloodhound.

  “I can ride; it’s still light,” he said, looking through the oven window at the cake. “What you making?”

  “Peach and Cornmeal Upside Down Cake, I’ll make you one if it works out okay.”

  His smile was wide in his dirt-streaked face.

  She blew him a kiss before he raced out the door and then she started to clean up her mess.

  “He’s a nice lad.”

  “Yes.” Declan O’Donnell now stood in her kitchen doorway, effectively enclosing her inside.

  “How’s your writing going?’

  She turned from the sink, soap suds dripping from the end of the brush she was using to clean the dishes. “How do you know about my writing?”

  “I had someone look out for you when I couldn’t. They kept me up to date on anything you did.”

  Branna felt the brush slip through her fingers and fall to the floor at his words.

  “You are my daughter and I have always loved you, contrary to what you believe. There was no way I was leaving you alone and unprotected when I was unable to settle near you, so I found someone I could trust to do it for me.”

  She’d always believed she was alone, always believed that no one knew what she did and when; now it seemed that was not true.

  “Did you ever wonder why your rent was so reasonable, Branna?”

  Gripping the sink behind her, she tried to focus on what he was saying, tried to make sense of his words, but her head was suddenly a swirling mass of emotion.

  “Those textbooks that suddenly got handed to you one day by a fellow student? The trip to Paris that was funded by an anonymous benefactor?”

  “Th-that was you?”

  “Yes,” his face was calm, words spoken slowly. “And I’m not telling you to buy your gratitude; I’m telling you so you understand that even though you thought I had walked away from you, in fact, I hadn’t. I used everything I had at my disposal to make sure you never had to struggle, never had to know hardship. It was the only thing I could do as your father, seeing as you wanted nothing else from me.”

  He stood in her kitchen doorway, dirt under his nails, smudges on his face, and blew everything she had believed about her life apart.

  “You are my daughter, Branna O’Donnell. We share bloodlines and once we shared love, and while I understand why you feel as you do about me, I am telling you from the depths of my soul and with the strength of your mother’s love inside us, that you have always been my blessing and the one thing I had a hand in creating that makes each day worthwhile.”

  “No.” The word was wrenched from her chest, but he didn’t stop…he kept on talking in that calm clear voice.

  “Yes. You were an extension of the love I felt for your mother, daughter. Her death plunged me into a hell that I had no idea how to drag myself out of, but know this, had you succeeded in taking your life that day, then I would have followed you, because losing her nearly destroyed me, but you…” Branna watched as he closed his eyes. “Losing you would have simply taken my will to live.”

  Branna turned back to the sink and closed her eyes, gripping the sink hard; she waited until his footsteps started on the stairs before she let the first tears fall. All these years, she’d believed one thing…only to find another. He’d watched over her, made sure she never went without, and all the time she’d thought he had no idea what was happening in her life. She remembered the things that used to happen to her, the small random acts that she could never account for, and now she realized they were him.

  The timer went off and drying her hands, she took the cake out, surprised to see it actually looked good when she was crumbling inside. Branna set it on the rack to cool, then made her way upstairs. She had to pull herself together before going to the Book Club. Find a way to lock the emotions back up inside her like she had always been able to do. But now, she wondered if the box was even big enough to fit them all.

  By the time she’d showered and dressed, she felt calmer, at least on the outside. She would shelve thoughts of what her father’s declaration meant until tomorrow. For now, Branna had to go to her first Book Club meeting. A book club? Seriously, what was she thinking? Smoothing down the skirt she’d chosen, Branna wondered if it was the right outfit to wear to Elizabeth Heath’s house.

  Looking in the mirror, she wondered how she looked the same as she had this morning, the same as a week ago, when inside she felt so different. She felt a sharp tug of longing for Jake. She wanted his strength, needed to feel his arms around her.

  “You can do this, Branna; you managed before.”

  Pulling her shoulders back, she studied herself. Rose-colored, the dress was slim fitting with small sleeves and finished just above her knees. She’d added black sandals with a small heel. Her hair was piled on top of her head and fixed with a large clip, and to give her courage, she wore her mother’s thin gold bracelet and hoop earrings. Her makeup was minimal, with a touch of rose-colored lip-gloss.

  Going back down the stairs, she found her father sitting with his laptop in the lounge.

  “I made mac and cheese,” Branna said, collecting up the cake tin and her bag, inside of which was the envelope and book she had to take. “I-it’s in the oven on low.”

  “Thank you, Branna. Have a good evening.”

  The great secret, Eliza, is not having bad manners or good manners or any other particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls: in short, behaving as if you were in heaven, where there are no third-class carriages, and one soul is as good as another.

  Her father had often quoted George Bernard Shaw to her, but why it now played through her head, she had no idea. Maybe she was finally succumbing to the hysteria that had been bubbling inside her for days.

  “Good night, Declan.”

  She left then, climbing into her van and backing around his rental car, then pulling out of the drive.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Elizabeth Heath lived in a house not dissimilar to Buster’s and as most of the houses in Howling were grouped in this area, they were not too far away from each other. Mrs Heath’s home was white with sky blue trim and the lawn looked as if it had been manicured. Parking on the road, Branna got out and collected her things, just as a large beige Cadillac pulled out of the garage and began to back slowly down the driveway. She waited for it to pass, but it stopped beside her and the window lowered slowly.

  “Well now, Branna O’Donnell, it’s my hope you’re ready for those old biddies.” Bending, she looked in the window.

  “Walt Heath, girl, it’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

  Juggling her cake, Branna managed to stick her hand through the window and shake the one he extended towards her. He had thick white hair that Santa Claus would give his eye teeth for, and neatly trimmed matching eyebrows beneath which sat soft brown eyes.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Heath.”

  “Walt, girl, you just call me Walt, and you remember, Branna, not to take any of their crap. They’ll boss you about something fierce if you let them, seeing as even the youngest in there has fifteen years on you.”

  Fifteen? Branna had thought at least thirty.

  “Thanks, I’ll give it my best shot, Walt.”

  “And don’t offer to do stuff. Make them ask you,” he added. “And any of them give you grief, you tell me about it and I’ll sort it.”

  “You think they will?” Branna didn’t like the sound of that.

  His smile flashed a stunning row of white teeth and she wasn’t sure if they were real or not.

  “Count on it, but from what I hear about you, little girl, you’re more than up to the challenge. Those biddies know it’s time for new blood, Branna, especially if it comes with youth
.”

  “Okay, and thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Anytime, girl, now you get on inside and make sure to save me a piece of that cake. I’m heading out for a few hours of peace at the Howling with some friends.”

  The door opened behind her as she watched Walt Heath drive off slowly down the street.

  “Don’t loiter, girl; we don’t do that kind of thing in this neighborhood.”

  Branna turned to find Henrietta Roberts-Haigh on the doorstep glaring at her.

  Mother of God, this woman had terrified her in high school. She used to sweep through the halls of school, like a battleship with a small flotilla in her wake, usually the headmaster and some hapless members who were on her board. The students used to say, “Run, HRH is on the move!”

  “Good evening Mrs. Roberts-Haigh.”

  She was big and raw-boned with short steel gray curls and eyes that matched.

  “Henry will do fine,” the woman said, holding out a hand to Branna as she approached. “And I’m glad to have you here, Branna O’Donnell.”

  “H-Henry.” Branna took the hand, reeling from the knowledge that HRH was now Henry to her. She couldn’t wait to tell Jake that one.

  They entered the house, where everything was as neat as she’d expected it to be, right down to the signs telling people to take off their shoes and place them here, an arrow indicated the spot.

  Slipping off her sandals lowered Branna a few inches, which put her at a disadvantage to the woman leading her into the room.

  She had glimpses of cream walls and neatly arranged vases and then they approached a dining room table, around which sat five women, all looking at her…some friendly, others weary, and one openly hostile. Surprisingly, Ellen Todd was there, Mikey’s teacher. They’d not exactly hit it off well, but the woman was giving her a smile, nonetheless.

  “I’ll tell you right off, I’m not happy to have you here, girl! You’re an outsider to Howling, and Georgie should have nominated a local.”

  “Oh, shut up, Millie Lawrence, nobody wants to hear your opinion!” Henry followed those words up with a slash of her right hand through the air. “You leave this girl alone. I, for one, am glad we have someone young to liven things up; we may finally get that trip away organized.”

  Trip?

  “Just letting her know where I stand.”

  Millie Lawrence wasn’t familiar to Branna. She had cropped red hair, sharp features, and eyes that were shooting angry barbs at her.

  “Millie Lawrence, you were an outsider ten years ago and we took you in, so you leave Branna alone.” Doctor Nancy McBride got to her feet with these words and glided across the floor. She was a seriously beautiful woman. Blonde hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore a crisp white shirt and black Capri pants, belted at the waist with a twist of red leather.

  “Hi, Doctor McBride.” Branna was hugged and then kissed on the cheek by the woman whose son had stolen her heart.

  “Hello, Branna, now you come and sit between Ellen and me…we’re the only ones who don’t bite.”

  Three hours later, Branna waved goodbye to Lizzy, as Mrs. Heath was known by everyone in the Book Club and got into her van. Her head was spinning with what she had learned tonight. She now knew that the town of Howling wasn’t run by the council; it was run by the Book Club. The meeting had started out by talking about the book they’d all read, and Branna had been shocked rigid when Henry had mentioned the word penis and then Lizzie had started discussing orgasms as if she was exchanging recipes.

  “It takes a while, but you get used to it.” These words had come from Ellen Todd, who had told her that she’d read up on Mikey and was sorry she hadn’t done so before, but was now making sure he had enough challenging work to occupy his mind.

  After the book discussion came the general business discussion, where they talked about extending the library and, heaven forbid, putting a skate ramp in at the park. Henry wanted to lower the speed limit on the main street, but Nancy had been against that.

  Branna had sat and listened as they talked. These women were intelligent, strong, and all were intent on making Howling a city that moved with the times, but it was also important to each that it retain the heritage and roots that had formed it and had made it what it was today.

  Pulling out onto the main street, Branna lowered her windows to let the cool breeze waft through. Mindful of Henry’s wishes, she dropped her speed and crawled past the shops. The last item on the Book Club’s agenda tonight had been her. She’d had to tell them about herself and what she’d done with her life, and surprisingly, she had told them…not everything, but most, finishing with her writing name. Everyone but Milly knew who she was and Branna had promised signed copies of her latest release.

  “I’ll be reading them, girl and I’ll let you know what I think,” Milly Lawrence had declared, to which Branna had replied she was looking forward to the feedback.

  She’d sat there with those women and realized that this was where she belonged now. No matter what happened with her father or Jake, Howling was her home. These people had made it so; they’d pulled her into their lives. Mikey, Buster, Penny and Belle. The list was long and each was now dear to Branna.

  She needed to settle things with her father. He was living in her house and she couldn’t avoid him or what hung over them forever. The thought made her stomach roll. Branna had so many angry feelings towards Declan O’Donnell and after what she had shared with him that day in Buster’s café, she knew that when they got down to talking, it would be long and emotional. At the end of it, she had no idea if she and her father would have a relationship, or if he would leave and never come back, but it had to be dealt with for her to move forward.

  Jake was another that she needed to talk to, be honest with, especially if they were to have any future together. Where was he? Would he back soon?

  Looking out the window, Branna saw a flash of white by the drugstore. Slowing more, she heard something whimpering. Pulling into a parking spot, she listened again. It was soft and pitiful, like an animal in pain or a child crying. Looking around, she could see no one else on the street and no car lights approaching. Her cell phone said it was eleven o’clock, so it was getting late for anyone to be out here, so it must be an animal.

  Being an only child meant Branna had been schooled repeatedly on the dangers of being out alone at dark and told never to approach strangers. Finding Belle’s number, she got it ready in case she needed back up, then opened her door and got out.

  “My name’s Branna, and I’m not sure what you are, but I’m coming to see if you need my help.”

  “G-go h-home.”

  The voice was female, which relaxed her slightly, although the words were slurred, which told her that maybe whoever it was could be drunk or high on something.

  “I’m coming closer.”

  “N-no.”

  She kept walking, lifting her cell phone to light the way down the narrow space between the drugstore and Mr. and Mrs. Parson’s craft shop. Unlike Jake, she didn’t have the flashlight app, and now wished to hell she’d downloaded it like he’d told her to.

  “Go away, Branna.”

  The words were slowly spaced, as if saying them was an effort. Whoever this woman was, she knew Branna. She saw her then, legs curled under her body, arms wrapped around her waist.

  “Macy?” Dropping to her knees, she reached out a hand, but the woman winced.

  “He’ll come soon and if he finds you, he’ll hurt you,” the words were a furious whisper.

  Her eyes were wide, face wet with tears, a bruise was forming on her chin, and she was a mess. Her hair was everywhere and her makeup was smeared over her cheeks.

  “You need me to take you to see Doctor McBride, Macy?”

  “No!”

  “Okay, no doctor then,” Branna soothed, as Macy looked terrified. “But, you have to know I’m not leaving you here alone, don’t you, Macy?”

  “He’ll c-come and find me s-
soon.”

  “Then we need to get out of here before he does. Will you let me help you to my van?” Branna didn’t wait for consent; instead, slipping an arm under Macy’s shoulder, she helped her to her feet. “Can you walk?”

  “I-I think so. But we have to h-hurry and you can’t tell anyone.”

  “All right, Macy, we’ll do whatever you want,” Branna soothed, as she half-carried the woman to her van, then opening the passenger side, she helped her in. Closing the door, she ran around the front and got in the driver’s side.

  “I-I’m going to hide on the fl-floor. Drive slow, and w-wave if you see anyone, like you’re just going h-home.”

  “Okay,” Branna heard Macy suck in a breath as she crouched on the floor so no one could see her. Her teeth were chattering, so Branna put on the heater.

  What the hell was happening? Where was Brian? Surely he wasn’t responsible for the state of his wife…was he?

  “I s-see lights!”

  “It’s a white sedan, Macy.” Branna lifted her hand and waved as the car passed her by. She didn’t see who was driving it, because it was too dark and because she didn’t want to make it obvious she was looking.

  “Th-that’s him.”

  “Brian?”

  Macy didn’t answer, just started sobbing softly into the edge of the seat she huddled against.

  “Did he do this to you?”

  “D-don’t ask me…pl-please, Branna, just help me.”

  It was a cry for help, and just like Belle had done for her all those years ago, she would do it now for Macy.

  ***

  Jake’s cell beeped, and noting the caller ID, he put down the gaming control and answered it.

  “Buster, you missing me?”

  Jake listened as his friend spoke, the smile falling from his face as the conversation progressed. “You heard it all?”

  Jake ran his hand through his hair as Buster confirmed the details of the conversation he’d overheard between Branna and her father.