by Potter, LR
It seemed to take forever for them to reach him. She gave an absent smile to Thor when he placed her cold, nervous hands within her one true love’s warm ones. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles before placing their joined hands against his heart.
“This is real,” he murmured for her ears only.
Vaguely, in the periphery of her mind, she could hear the minister begin to speak the familiar words. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered…”
She tuned it all out to look deep into his beautiful face. This was where she belonged… with him. Slowly, the minister’s word began to come to her. “…if there’d be anyone present who can show just cause why these two should not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
She looked up into Jace’s face and her smile faltered at his expression. With regret in his eyes, he said, “I’m so sorry, but you should have trusted me with the truth.”
“What do I do now?” she whispered to him.
“That’s your choice. It’s always been your choice,” he murmured against her ear.”
Chapter 10
Tate’s eyes snapped opened as her heart hammered in her chest. She was surprised to see the sun still shining through the window. I’m so sorry, but you should have trusted me with the truth. Maybe she should have just told him the truth… all of it. Maybe then he would understand why he needed to move on. Maybe it wouldn’t matter to him? A small voice whispered up in her mind. But she squashed it immediately. He’d resent her one day. It was hard enough now, but to be with him, live with him, and love him… maybe even marry him – it would certainly kill her if he left then. But she decided, if ever given the chance, she would tell him everything, he deserved to know.
Rising from the bed, she pulled out her phone and found missed calls and voicemails from Jace, Thor, and even Toby. Not sure what to say to them, she ignored them for now. She stood and looked out the window, trying to decide if she should continue or not. Maybe she should just go home and forget it. But what if her family was just a few miles away? Wouldn’t it be worth it? To her? To them? She didn’t know. But she was here already, and so desperate to know.
A glance at the clock told her it was a little after two. If she went now, she’d have just enough time to go by one of the remaining two families’ homes. She grabbed her phone, stuck it into her pocket, and withdrew enough money from her backpack to purchase a bike and to eat later. With more resolve, she headed back down the stairs.
Tate found the Bulls Gap Thrift Shop right where Tippy said it would be. She saw a man sitting in the back of the store with his feet propped up reading a newspaper. He rose slowly when she entered.
“Can I help you,” he asked with a smile.
“I hope so. Tippy sent me. She said you might have a used bike for sale,” Tate said.
“I do have a few out back. Come on with me.”
Tate followed him to the back and found four or five bikes – none compared to hers back home, but she wouldn’t need it for long.
“I actually only need it for a day or two. Would you be willing in leasing it to me?”
Jack scratched his head. “Well now. I ain’t never thought about that. But I guess it’d be all right. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You pay full price and then when you return it, I’ll give your money back minus twenty dollars a day. Sound fair?”
“Sounds more than fair, thanks,” she replied.
Later, as she rode with the wind whipping through her hair, she felt freer than she’d felt in days. She wasn’t sure why, maybe because she’d decided to confess all to Jace and that provided closure. Maybe it was seeing how one mother still loved a child who had been stolen from her. She didn’t know, but it was like a load had been lifted. LaVerne and Sal Monroe were the next people on her list. They lived in the nearby town of Morristown, which was approximately thirteen miles from Bulls Gap. It took her nearly an hour to reach Morrisville; and then another half hour to find 609 Tibot, which was the Monroes’ address. She rode by the address, slowly taking in the small, red-brick, ranch style home. The yard was currently being mowed by a shirtless, teenage boy on a riding lawnmower. The place appeared to be neat and clean. Taking a deep breath, she rode to the edge of the drive and slid smoothly off the bike.
As her feet hit the pavement, she felt the vibration of her phone in her pocket. She heaved a sigh, but pulled the phone out.
“Hi,” she said softly.
Jace exhaled shakily. “I’ve been so worried.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Just taking care of few things. Are you, okay?”
He was silent for minute. “No.”
She closed her eyes at his pain. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t… Just come home. I need you,” he begged.
“I’ll be home in a couple days, then we’ll talk. Okay?”
“No. Why can’t you come home today? Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you. I love you, baby. I miss you.”
Swallowing hard at his words, she said before clicking off her phone, “I’ll talk to you soon.”
She slid the kickstand down and parked the bike on the driveway. She gave a small wave to the boy on the lawnmower before moving to the front door. She spied a doorbell and pushed it. Taking a steadying breath, she clutched tightly to the strap of her backpack. After a few minutes, a woman with salt-and-pepper hair opened the door and smiled uncertainly at her.
“Can I help you?”
Tate studied her intently but didn’t see anything familiar. Going with the same story she’d used at the Thomases, she smiled and said. “I hope so. Are you LaVerne Monroe?”
“Yes,” the woman answered.
“I know this may be awkward, but I’m hoping you can help me with something. My name is Tate Morgan and I’m a student at the University of Florida. I’m doing my thesis on the effects a missing child has on a family. Would you be willing to talk with me?” she asked on a rush.
Tate watched the corners of the woman’s mouth curve down. “I… I don’t know.”
With her heart pounding, Tate said, “I’ll only ask you a few questions.”
Still with obvious hesitation, the woman backed up and held the door open for her. The house was spotlessly clean and clutter-free. On the wall leading to the living room were pictures of a boy and a girl of varying ages, starting from babyhood to cap and gown. The boy was a nice-looking blonde with blue eyes, while the girl was red-haired with brown eyes. Tate allowed her eyes to linger on the pictures as she walked by.
LaVerne Monroe noticed her looking and said, “That’s my son Trey and my daughter Camilla. They’re both off at the University of Tennessee. We’re very proud of them.”
Tate smiled and moved further into the room.
“You have a lovely home, Ms. Monroe,” Tate said politely.
“Thank you,” LaVerne Monroe answered nervously.
Sitting awkwardly, Tate asked, “Do you have a picture of Libbey?”
LaVerne Monroe swallowed but nodded. “Of course. Excuse me, please.”
As Tate sat waiting on LaVerne to return, the front door slammed open and a large man with jet-black hair entered the house, yelling, “Who, on God’s green earth, left that damn bike in the middle of the drive?”
She stood to her feet as he entered. “I’m sorry, sir. It was me. I’ll just go move it right now.”
He scowled at her. “Never mind, I moved it myself,” he snapped. “Who are you?”
Tate swallowed fearfully. “I… My name is Tate Morgan and I’m a student at the University of Florida…”
She was interrupted by LaVerne Monroe, “Oh, Sal. You’re home early. This is Tate Morgan, she’s a friend of Camilla’s. They both went on that DC trip last December. I was just telling Tate that Camilla is still in school as their Spring Break isn’t until next week.” LaVerne handed her a Post It. “Here’s her phone number, dear. So sorry you mis
sed her,” she said, pleading with Tate to go along with her.
“Uh, yes, thanks. Please tell Camilla I stopped by. Would you mind if I leave my phone number for her with you?”
“Of course.”
Sal Monroe looked between the two women and dismissed them. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
“Pot Roast. Just let me walk Tate out and we can eat.”
At the door, LaVerne Monroe wrapped her arms around Tate as if in a hug. In her ear, she whispered. “It destroys a family. That’s what losing a child does. Please don’t come back. Sal wouldn’t like it.”
Softly Tate asked, “Can you tell me what color her eyes were?”
LaVerne Monroe eyed her curiously before answering slowly, “Light brown. Why?”
Tate’s stomach clenched at her answer. What did she say now? As she struggled to reply, LaVerne said, “About your color. Does that matter?”
Tate exhaled deeply. About your color.
“No, sorry for bothering you.” A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Now that she’d possibly found her parents, how did she prove it? What if she told them the truth and then later they discovered she wasn’t actually their daughter? Indecision had Tate turning away, and then she hesitated once more as a thought occurred to her. “Did she have a nickname?”
LaVerne Monroe eyed her peculiarly before something dawned on her. She put a hand over her mouth as if to stifle a sob. “Were you taken? Are you looking for your parents?” she whispered.
Hesitantly, Tate nodded.
With tears in her eyes, she placed a hand on Tate’s arm. “Honey, I’m sorry, but… but our Libbey was found.”
Inhaling sharply, Tate asked softly, “Alive?”
With tears streaming down her face now, LaVerne Monroe sadly shook her head. Tate reached forward and wrapped her arms around the woman. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”
“LaVerne, where’s my dinner?” they heard Sal Monroe bellow from inside the house.
“I need to go. Good luck to you, Tate Morgan,” she said as she quietly closed the door.
Two down, one to go. What would she do if they also turned out not to be her parents? She guessed she’d have to call Alan and have him widen his search. Who’s to say that her parents weren’t just visiting the area when she’d been taken? She exhaled deeply. It seemed almost insurmountable.
Darkness had settled over the town when Tate rolled into Bulls Gap. It was funny, but she actually was more apprehensive cycling in this small, unknown town at night than in the much larger city of Gainesville. She blew a breath out through puffed cheeks. It’d been a long, emotional day. It saddened her to think of all the families out there suffering like this at the hand of someone else. What about the families that her supposed sisters had been stolen from? How did they cope? She dreaded tomorrow. If the last family wasn’t hers, she’d well and truly be on her own… alone in the world. She never thought she’d want the link with either Tilda or Travis Moon. But not belonging anywhere was even more terrifying than belonging to them.
She’d just wheeled her bike around the last corner, putting her back on the main thoroughfare into town, when a hand reached out from the sidewalk and shoved her hard. The shove sent her slamming onto the graveled road. The fall knocked the air out of her lungs and she longed to scream but couldn’t catch her breath. The gravel ate into her bared left arm as she slid forward. Before she could do more than stop, strong hands were snatching her backpack and wrenching her arms back as it was yanked from her.
With her heart pounding, her arm burning, and breathing rapid, she sat up quickly to defend herself, but when she looked around, she was alone. Oncoming headlights forced her to move her aching body and the bike to the curb. She grimaced when she looked down at the road rash on her arm. As the adrenalin which had rushed through her body dwindled, it dawned on her what’d just happened. The son-of-a-bitch took her backpack. It contained all her money, with the exception of what few dollars she had left in her pocket. Her phone charger was in there, along with all her notes; including the name and address of the last family. Tears stung her eyes. She was stuck in a place where she knew no one. She had no way to get home. The only thing in her favor was she’d already paid for her room. She rose stiffly to her feet, grimacing at the pain. She picked up the bike and used a word that Toby would have washed her mouth out for. The bike was damaged beyond riding. So much for getting her money back. So now, even if she somehow could remember the address of family number three, she had no way to get there.
Frustration had tears stinging her eyes. She was so tired of having to fight this hard for everything. Picking up the bike, which refused to roll on its crooked front tire, she walked to the diner and leaned it against the front window. She reached down and brushed the dirt from her clothes, wiped the tears from her eyes, and refashioned her ponytail. Trying to beat down her feelings of self-defeat, she entered the diner. She decided she’d grab a bite to eat and then return to her room.
She opened the door and passed the row of mostly empty booths until she reached the one by the front window. She slid her tired, sore body onto the cushioned seat and whimpered at the pain it caused. She was going to be so sore tomorrow. She was surprised to see Tippy come to her booth.
“Heya, doll. What can I get for ya?”
“Got you working a double, do they?” Tate asked.
“Yep. New girl called in sick. Can I get you a drink or something?”
“Can I get a glass of water and a cup of vegetable soup with some crackers?”
“You bet. You all right? You look a little beat up,” Tippy asked.
Tate swallowed. “I took a tumble off my bike.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Can I get you some ice or something?”
“No. I’ll wait until I get to my room. Thanks, Tippy.”
Once Tippy left, Tate reached up and pulled her elastic hair tie out of her hair. Remembering her phone, she reached into her front pocket and pulled it out. Thankfully, it’d only received scratches, but appeared to be working – but not for much longer without the charger. As she set the phone down, it began to vibrate. She looked at screen and saw it was Jace. Needing comfort but knowing she’d regret it later, she answered.
“Hey.”
There was a pause. “Hey, baby. I didn’t think you’d answer.”
“I can always hang up and let you call back if you’d rather,” she responded drily.
“Where are you?”
Exhaling and rubbing a hand over her face. “Just trying to make sense out of things.”
“You can’t do that with me?”
“You are the only thing that ever made any sense,” she said a little shakily.
“Where are you right now?” he asked softly.
“Sitting in a little diner, wishing things could be different.”
“Different how?” he asked.
“Normal, I guess.”
“I miss you, Tate.”
His words caught at her heart. She dragged in a shuttering breath. “I miss you, too.”
“Come home,” he murmured.
Inhaling, she said softly, “Jace, it can’t be like that anymore. I… I can’t see you anymore.”
He gave a little chuckle. “Why? I see you perfectly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tate, look to your right.”
“What?” she asked, not understanding his comment.
“Lift your head and turn it to your right.”
Scrunching her eyebrows in confusion, she turned her head to the right, which had her looking towards the door. Standing there, with his phone pressed against his ear, was the man who was going to break her heart… again. With quick, hot tears, she slid out of her booth. Ignoring the few people sitting around the diner, Tate hurried down the aisle and jumped up into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. Startled, he laughed and hugged her tight to his body. She struggled to calm her shattered sense.
“I needed you so m
uch. I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered in his ear.
He pressed kisses against her hair. “All you had to do was ask.”
Remembering where she was, she slowly slid down his body and led him back to her booth. He sat opposite of her and took her hands within his. He looked down and frowned as he followed the line of scrapes up her arm.
“What did you do?” he asked as he examined her arm more closely.
His kindness was nearly her undoing. With a shuddering breath, she said, “Someone knocked me down and stole my backpack, along with all my money.”
He brought her hands to his lips. “Oh baby! I’m so sorry.”
It finally dawned on her that he was here. “How did you know where I was?”
“I called Alan and he thought this might be where you were. Why didn’t you tell me this is what you wanted to do? I would have come with you.”
The reality of the situation came back in full force. Slowly, she pulled her hands back and leaned back heavily. “Oh, Jace.” Picking up her fork, she twirled it within her fingers.
“What?”
“There’s just things…”
She stopped when Tippy brought her water and soup.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Jace asked.
“I’m not all that hungry.”
He eyed her for a minute before turning to Tippy. “Can I get two hamburgers with fries? That soup does look good, so can I get a cup of that also? Thanks.”
“Now, what were you going to say?” he asked once Tippy left.
Tate looked down once more at the fork.
Jace covered her hands with one of his own. “Tate, just talk to me. It seems you’ve been avoiding me or pulling away for weeks. You’ve done your level best to push me away. I’m holding on by a thread here, Tate.”
“Jace, I just think you can do…”
Abruptly, he snatched his hands away from hers. With a snarl, he said with deadly quiet, “You better not finish that sentence. I’m sick to death of you telling me how I should feel or who I should want. You are who I want. Not you, nor anyone, gets to decide who I want. Okay?”
