Choices of the Heart (6 page)

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Authors: Julia Daniels

BOOK: Choices of the Heart
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“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.

“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.

“Honestly?” he challenged. Why he pushed the issue, he could not say. He wanted to keep her near to him, couldn’t get enough of her.

She looked back to him, with tears in her eyes. “I told you already.” Her voice was raspy. “I did not leave
you
. I left this life, the abuse, the gossips. I know many girls leave the countryside and farms to find a husband. I didn’t. I went to find
me
.”

Her eyes were begging him to kiss her. He could read them as plain as day. He itched to rub away the tears now sliding down her cheeks, but he couldn’t.

He heard boots scraping across gravel behind them. Chloe hastily brushed at the tears on her face, and Reese turned away from her to watch his parents come toward the vehicle.

“Well, then,” his father boomed. “I guess we best be gettin’ on home. I’ve got some livestock to feed. Bobby’s probably thinking he got left behind again.”

Reese opened the back door, and Chloe climbed in. He shut it after she was situated and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“How about we come by about noon tomorrow, son?” his mother asked. “I’ll bring some of the leftovers, and we can open the envelopes with the papers Ronnie and Daisy left. Together.”

“All right. The house won’t be clean, though.” His chest tightened at the thought of Chloe in his home again. The home he’d bought to start his life with her.

“I’m sure it will be fine, dear.” His mother kissed his cheek and climbed through the open door, scooting next to his father. Reese shut the door behind her.

“We’ll see you then.” Reese waved goodbye as the car pulled away. He watched the back of Chloe’s black hat-covered head, wondering if she would turn around and look back at him.

She didn’t.

~*~

Bobby curled closer to Chloe, sleeping like only a young boy with no worries could. He would never know what a loving friend Daisy had been. He would never know what a smart man he’d had for a father. But he would know the love of a grandmother and grandfather.

Tomorrow would be it—the final appearance she’d have to put in. She’d be able to leave the day after for Lincoln and put Broken Bow behind her.

Eventually, anyway.

She moved slightly, settling Bobby a few inches farther away. It was still warm in the room, despite the nice breeze from the windows. She felt restless from the heat but also because of the turbulent emotions warring inside her.

She stood quietly, so as not to unsettle the boy. At the window, she pulled the lace curtains aside and let the moonlight sweep into the room. She looked down at the barnyard and seemed to see shadows darting across the lawn.

Just memories, she realized. Times spent running around without cares and worries. Daisy with her snarled pigtails and Ronnie with his shirtsleeves rolled up as far as they could go. Chloe wouldn’t let herself blink, couldn’t clear her vision for fear she would lose sight of the scene. The images floated in front of her eyes, just as if it was happening that very instant.

Finally she turned away, realizing tears were streaming down her face. She took a deep breath and wiped the wetness from her cheeks, sniffing away even more tears that threatened to spill out.

She had to get out of the house. The walls were closing in all around her. She dressed quickly and in the brightest dress she’d brought with her. No more black and grey. Daisy hated dark colors, and so did Chloe.

The Lloyds were sleeping, or at least had all the lights shut off. Filled with nervous restlessness, she needed to be able to move around without being watched.

Out the back door she went and found herself wandering into the horse barn. The moon was bright, and the sky was clear, and her eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light. There was a special horse that always let her climb up on his back and ride. A gentle old loner boy that loved to eat oats and hated to be around the other, younger horses.

Chloe grabbed a handful of sugar cubes then proceeded down the row of stalls. She found Freddy right away. It would be hard to miss his coloring, black and white, just like the Holstein cows grazing in a field not far away. She talked softly to him, holding out a handful of hay she’d picked up along the way. He clamped on to it and was soon butting her hand for more. Did he remember she always carried sugar for him?

Opening her other hand, she produced four large lumps of the sweet cubes, laughing as the horse inhaled them. Some things, she realized, didn’t have to change. Continuing to talk softly to him, she rubbed his flanks. Then, without a second thought, she hiked up her skirts and catapulted herself onto his bare back.

Freddy sidestepped, adjusting to her weight, probably not having had anyone ride him for some time. She continued her praise and kicked him to get him moving. He was slow, at first, but picked up speed, and soon, they were headed through the green grass toward the east of the house and the pasture that connected Reese’s home to his parents’ place.

She rode there because she knew he was the only person who could make her feel better. He was the only other person in Broken Bow experiencing the loss of a sibling, the loss of what the future could have brought them. She sat on the horse at Reese’s back door, wondering what he would do if she went inside again. Would his conscience force him to throw her out again?

No lights were on, and the house and surrounding buildings stood silent.

She debated her options, stewed on the subject, knowing it would be crazy to go in there, knew that no matter what happened it wouldn’t be good. He had Isabelle, and she had cold, empty, lonely nights in Lincoln. She turned the horse back toward the Lloyds’ and kicked Freddy to urge him forward. With her recent bad luck, the horse would probably pass out from the exertion.

~*~

“I’ve decided I’m heading to Chicago next week.”

Chloe looked up from her plate at Reese’s sudden announcement. All movement stopped at the table. Bobby even quit babbling about the toy wooden train Reese had given him.

“Why would you want to be doin’ that?” Mr. Lloyd asked before taking a sip of milk.

“I gotta find out the truth.”

Chloe watched Reese’s cheeks flush. Was he angry or embarrassed that his father was questioning his motives?

The five of them—Chloe, Reese, his parents and Bobby—were seated at the large kitchen table in Reese’s old farmhouse, eating leftovers from the funeral dinner of the day before. It was another day of solemn proceedings but the final heart wrenching activity Chloe would participate in before she could be on her way.

Every time she thought of leaving, her stomach clenched. Every time Bobby gave her a wet kiss and called her “Cwowe” her heart melted, and she wanted to watch the little man grow. But she couldn’t. Reese had Isabelle. She had nursing. She’d missed her chance at a happily ever after and had to simply accept that. She’d thrown herself at Reese, and he’d rejected her—and rightly so. He
was
an honorable man.

“Well, we’re hoping those papers yonder”—his father pointed to the leather bag sitting on the floor next to the stove—“will guide us in the right direction.”

“And if they don’t?” Reese pressed. “Then what?”

“I don’t know, son.” Mr. Lloyd stood. “This is hard on your mother and me too, ya know. We lost our boy.” He walked to the icebox and refilled his milk.

It
was
hard on them. Chloe had witnessed their pain, had heard the hideous, thick silence that reverberated off the walls.

“I’m sorry.” Reese apologized. He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I just want to make sure there were no dirty dealings involved.”

“Oh, I’m sure there were, Reese.” His father joined them again at the table. “How could there not have been? There were probably a lot of things goin’ on that we don’t wanna know nothin’ about. But for their boy’s sake”—Mr. Lloyd nodded toward Bobby—“we gotta find out somethin’.”

“Which is why I’m headed to Chicago,” Reese stated.

“Mr. Lloyd, do you think they could have been bootlegging?” Chloe asked, wondering if she was overstepping her bounds.

“That again!” In one angry swoop, Reese tossed his napkin on his plate, rolled his eyes at Chloe, and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“I reckon they coulda been, Reese. Chloe ain’t so far off.” Mr. Lloyd nodded. “It crossed my mind a time or two. Couldn’t imagine why the boy never wrote us. Why he went and turned his back on the family. He might have involved himself with the wrong group of people. And then mighta done something to anger somebody and then well, they killed him.”

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