Leaving Liberty (16 page)

She didn’t want to be that woman. She’d
worked hard to be capable, strong, independent. Now she had to wonder if there
was more to her refusal to be part of Liberty. Bitterness was ugly. It poisoned
everything and everyone it touched. Daisy watched the tiny white puffs of cloud
scudding across the sky and hoped with all her might that she was wrong. The
truth of it shook her to the core: her strength and her pride just might be
something completely different. Anger was something dark and treacherous, like
a bitter seed. 

She was angry. Angry at not having a
real childhood, angry at not having a great father figure. Angry at everyone in
this little town knowing her business. She’d pulled the anger in until it was
hard and sharp as broken glass.

Daisy stared out at the mountains and
wished she knew
how
to take that jagged edge of an angry life and make
it something new. She didn’t want to spend her life looking back. She wanted to
bring something better to the kids in Liberty than a bunch of old hurts. But
for the life of her, she didn’t know how.

Chapter Thirteen

Lane
glanced in the truck’s rear view mirror and wished for the tenth time that he
was a smoother sort of guy. Who talks about their ex-girlfriend right off the
bat? So, it wasn’t a date or anything close to it, but it was one of those
unwritten rules: never talk about the ex-girlfriend. Just don’t do it. Don’t go
there. And he did.

He rubbed his forehead with one hand and
slid a glance at Daisy. The sun was shining through the old truck windshield
and it almost hurt to look at her. Bright glossy hair, naturally beautiful,
hands resting casually in her lap. She hadn’t talked much. Probably because she
hadn’t had a chance. Or was afraid of what he’d say next.

My heart is a pair of old pants.
He should just give up and go home right now. Except that he was on an errand
for Nita and the library and the kids.

She obviously hadn’t known about Marie’s
marriage. He couldn’t really fathom why Marie had never mentioned it, except
for the reason he’d said. It was past, over, didn’t make a difference to her
full life in Liberty. He gritted his teeth and searched for something, anything
to say. Some safe topic, like her job or her friends back in Fresno.

“You go out a lot in Fresno?” As soon as
the words left his mouth he wanted to smack himself . It sounded like he was
fishing for details on her romantic life.

“I wouldn’t say a whole lot and only on
the weekends. During the week, I’m pretty busy with school. Even though it ends
earlier than most jobs, I still have grading and lesson plans to review.” She
had a smile on her face that seemed a tiny bit forced.

Lane took the Downtown Denver exit and
slowed the truck. “Did you always want to be a teacher? You said fifth grade,
right? That’s a funny age.”

“Funny?”

“Awkward. Toby is about that age and a
few years ago he was only interested in baseball. Now it’s music and girls and
biking around town.”

Her lips tugged up. “True. A few years
later and they’re zooming into their teens. A few years before and it’s that
perfectly innocent age.” She turned to him, brows drawn together. “Toby, he was
the boy who was heading for the semi? The day that…” She motioned with her
hand, drawing in the air between them.

“The day we met?” She was right about
those words not quite fitting. He grinned. “The boy you chased me down to
protect?”

Pink bloomed over her cheekbones. “Sorry
about that. Again.”

“Don’t be. I think it says a lot about
you. Plus, it makes a great story.”

“And who are you telling this story to?”
She plunked one hand on her hip and fixed him with a glare.

He couldn’t help the laugh that rose up
in his throat. He loved that look she got, the one that said she was ready to
set him straight on whatever point he’d missed. “Nobody. Yet. But I can see it being
a favorite. You know, family gatherings. Reunions. Christmas.”

The pink turned deeper in her cheeks.
“I’m glad you’ll be getting some good value from my crazy mistake.”

Uh oh. He took a second to merge into
the far left lane. “That’s not the way I meant it. My parents have a great
story about the time my father stole my mom’s purse. She’d been out a party and
took a cab back to her apartment. She hopped out, and my dad hopped in. He
didn’t see her chasing the taxi down the street, trying to get her purse back.”
He paused. “It’s a really funny story when they tell it.”

She cocked her head at him, considering.
Lane felt like sliding through the seat. So now he’d compared their weird first
meeting with his long-married parents’ introduction to each other. She must
think he was slow. She was leaving. There wouldn’t be any reunion, any
Christmas dinner with the family where they’d tell the story of Toby and the
semi.

The sudden sounding of her cell phone
saved him from whatever it was she was going to say. Daisy pulled it out of her
purse, glanced at the display, a small smile crossing her lips.

“You can answer that. We’re not in a
meeting.” He made sure his tone was light, but inside he was betting dollars to
doughnuts it was a boyfriend. The guy was probably going crazy without her.

“It’s my friend Ana. I’ll call her back
when I have more time.” She tucked the phone back into her purse. “She’s been
great, picking up my car at the airport, sending me clothes. I think she’s
worried I’ve lost my mind.”

“Because everyone knows how much you
hate this town.” What was obvious to him in five minutes was surely no secret
to good friends back home.

She frowned out the windshield for a
moment. “That may be it but I hope I haven’t spent the whole last ten years
griping about Liberty.” The wry tone in her voice made him smile.

Glancing over at him, she shrugged.
“Probably more likely that I’m one of those people that plans every step of
every day. I’m the teacher who has files and files of lessons saved up, just in
case. I’m the girl who never does anything crazier than painting my nails a
shade darker than usual.”

“Until now.” He could imagine what it
had taken for her to drop everything and stay in this town, even if it was only
just for the summer.

“Until now,” she repeated softly.

Lane felt her predicament like an ache.
It made her sacrifice so much bigger, her dreams for the library so much more
bittersweet. As far as he could tell, she probably would have been better just
going home after Marie’s funeral. He was glad she was here, next to him, inches
away in his old red truck, smelling like an early summer morning, but the
chances of her saving the library were just too small.

“How are the grants going?” He slowed
the truck even further as they joined the Denver traffic, sleek cars streaming
in from every side.

“They’re completed and turned in. It
takes months for them to be reviewed but if we can even get one, then people
will know that the library can be saved.” Her eyes were bright, she sat up
straighter as she spoke. “The city manager thinks the library is a waste of
funds that could be spent on fireworks or sprucing up City Hall. She showed me
her plans for a nice office that had a view of the golf course.”

The steel in her voice wasn’t lost on
him. “That’s what city managers do. Spruce up the place. And if she thinks it
means dumping the old Carnegie library and building something better five years
from now, she’s going to try that.”

“I don’t have a problem with a new
library, Lane.” Daisy had turned to him, reaching out to touch his arm, voice
deadly serious. He felt the warmth of her hand and wished the traffic was
lighter. It was hard to concentrate on merging when she was talking, let alone
touching him. “But she said they can’t afford to pay the flood insurance on the
old one, make repairs for it to be usable during construction and raise money
for a new one all at once. Liberty wouldn’t have a library for a really long
time, probably close to two years.” Her hand dropped to the seat and she turned
to look at the skyline growing closer, towers of smoked glass sparkling in the
summer sunlight.

“Two years is too long for these kids.”
He meant every word. “Kids like Toby need that place just as much as they need
the city sports teams. Consistency and discipline are the only things between
them and a whole lot of trouble.”

He tapped the breaks as the cars slowed,
fighting for roadway as more merged into the center lanes. “I know you don’t
think much of Liberty, but we haven’t had many problems with gangs and drugs so
far. I think it’s because of how tight the community is, how much they give to
the youth.”

She shot him a glance. “I don’t hate
Liberty.” She paused, shifting in her seat. “It’s not my favorite place in the
world.”

Lane snorted softly. “I bet compared to
Fresno it’s pretty backwards.”

Her eyebrows went up. “I like my school,
my friends, my little neighborhood, but Fresno isn’t a great city.” She waved
at the window, toward the view. “Look at that skyline. It’s gorgeous. It can’t
be equaled, anywhere.”

           
“Fresno has skyscrapers, I’m sure.”

           
It was her turn to sound disbelieving. “Have you ever seen that place? Concrete
jungle all the way. In the summer it’s hotter than you’d think would be
possible. Downtown there are some nice historic buildings, near Kern Street,
but nothing like Liberty for charm.”

           
“Aren’t there mountains near? I thought the Sierra Nevadas were over that way.”

           
 “Over that way, yes, a few hours away and there are the Kings Canyon
foothills about twenty minutes from the city. You can’t see any of that for the
smog and the heat and the traffic. It’s a huge urban sprawl.”

           
They were creeping along into Denver now, traffic having backed up for several
miles. “I always thought it was the small town part you hated.”

           
She was quiet a moment, rolling a ruffle of her sundress between her fingers.
“I don’t hate Liberty.” Her voice was softer, as if she was coming to the realization,
even though she’d said the same words just a few minutes before.

           
The car ahead of them crept forward a few feet, then stopped. “Gridlock is
universal. Looks like we’re in for a little bit of a wait.” He glanced at her,
wondering how much to say, not wanting to make the ride uncomfortable. But then
again, they’d already discussed his romantic life, her dad, and Marie’s
marriage so maybe that ship had sailed. “My parents can’t bear to live in
Liberty. Not anymore.”

           
She raised her gaze to his and the softness in her eyes told him she already
knew the story. “Too many painful memories.”

           
 “I didn’t understand, at first because when I look around, I see Colt
everywhere and my memories are good ones. I take comfort in sitting at the
river where we used to fish, tilling the garden we used to work in with our
grandfather, coaching the city team we used to play on as kids.”

           
It felt so good to talk to her. “My mother says that she keeps expecting him to
walk in the door. She can’t sit at the cabin and look at his empty chair. She
can’t drive past our old high school and not wish he was a teenager again. The
only way she could feel any peace was to go somewhere he’d never been.”

           
“I never thought of how hard it would be to have such good memories of someone
who’s gone.” Daisy paused. “I guess I always figured having really bad memories
was the worst it could be.” Her voice was rueful.

           
The traffic moved steadily again and Lane shifted into a higher gear. “Grief is
different for everyone, I suppose.”

           
She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider. The car ahead
of them flashed its brake lights and Lane slowed again. She let out a long slow
breath.

           
“I’m sorry this taking so long. We should be there in a few minutes.” If only
Nita had been well enough, they probably would have had a good girl’s day out,
rather than taking a road trip in his old Ford. She probably was bored beyond
belief in that little cabin, without her friends around.

           
Daisy glanced over, surprise on her face. “No, the traffic doesn’t bother me a
bit. Nothing compared to some trips I’ve taken through East Fresno.” She caught
her lip between her teeth and shrugged. “I was thinking…”

           
He waited, curious at the struggle to find words. “Oh, come on. It can’t be
worse than my pair-of-pants heart, can it?”

           
She giggled, a young, lovely sound. He forced himself not to stare, wrenching
his gaze back to the road. “No, probably not.” Her smile slipped from her face.
“Just thinking that I have a lot of work to do.”

           
“For the library.” He nodded. If only the traffic would clear up, they could
get the summer prizes and she could keep working.

           
“No, on my own heart.” She cocked her head. “I don’t know why, but I feel like
I can make crazy statements like that and you’ll understand.”