The Texan's Secret (19 page)

“Darcy, it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. When the Bennett boys busted my lip you said I had to forgive because that’s what a good person does. So I did. You’re a good person. Why can’t you forgive Mommy?”

“Darcy…”

“If you can’t forgive Mommy, then I don’t want you for a daddy anymore.”

The phone went dead and he stared at it as if it was
about to explode.
You have to forgive.
Now he had to eat those words.

It hit him like a two-by-four right between the eyes. His father had done the same thing. He had spouted words about fidelity to his sons and how important it was to a marriage. Then Blanche Dumont had entered his life and all rational thought had left his mind. Everything he’d taught his sons had flown out the window.

Just as everything Chance had taught Darcy seemed to be for someone else—not him. Was he more like his father than he’d ever imagined?

A
S
C
HANCE REACHED
the living room, Kid walked in. Chance frowned at him.

“Okay. I forgot to knock,” he said with a sheepish grin. Looking around, he asked, “You have someone here?”

“No. Why?” Chance sat on the sofa and placed his phone by his burger.

Kid waved a hand toward him. “You’re in your underwear.”

“So? I’m in my home. I can be naked if I want to.”

“That’s good, too.” Kid reached over, picked up the half-eaten burger and took a bite.

“Hey, that’s my supper.”

“You bought two. I know you did ’cause you always do.” Kid sank into the comfy chair, still eating the burger.

“That doesn’t give you the right to eat it,” Chance said on his way to the refrigerator for milk.

“Come on, Chance. I’m hungry.”

“They will sell you food, Kid. You do know that, right?” He resumed his seat, sipping a glass of milk.

“Smart-ass.” Kid finished the burger and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I have a dinner and dancing date later with Molly.”

“It’s already nine o’clock,” Chance reminded him, staring at his cell phone.
You have to forgive Mommy. A good person does that. You said so.

“Some people do have a social life.” Kid watched him. “Why do you keep staring at your cell as if it’s about to sprout wings and fly?”

Chance placed the half-full glass by his phone. “Darcy called.”

“Shay’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“What did she want?”

“To teach me a lesson.”

“What?”

Chance told him about the Bennett boys.

“So you encouraged her to forgive?”

“I did, and I believe everything I told her. But I have a hard time practicing what I preached.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t help but wonder if Dad felt the same way.”

“Probably,” Kid admitted. “He was a man and he had weaknesses, as we now know. But who knows what we, his sons, are going to do in the future. Sometimes we’re shaped by the people around us.”

Chance stared at his brother. “Did you just say that?”

Kid looked around. “I think. Has to be the most profound thing I’ve ever said.”

“I’ll say.”

Kid leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Chance, I don’t know a lot about women but—”

“If you don’t, then who does?”

“I’m serious here.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“I am, so listen. It’s not often I impart knowledge.”

Chance refrained from laughing.

“Shay is not Blanche, just like you, me and Cadde are not Dad. I think you have that a little mixed up in your hard head. If the love you have for Shay is the twenty-four-carat-gold, slip-on-the-left-hand kind, you better think twice before throwing it away. If it’s the real deal, you’ll see her face in every woman you date. She’ll always be there at the back of your mind. You’ll remember little things about her that used to drive you crazy—her smile, her humor…”

“Are we talking about you or me?”

“We’re talking about you, damn it. I’ve never been in love.”

“What about Lucky?”

“That was puppy love, for crying out loud, Chance. Pay attention.”

“I heard every word, Kid, and I’ll heed your advice.”

“Good.” He stood. “It’s not often I give advice to the lovelorn.” He reached down and picked up the glass of milk and drained it.

“Hey.”

Kid ignored his objection, as usual. “I have a date, so I have to run. Listen to Darcy. She’s smarter than you are. And get that hangdog look off your face and do something about your life instead of working yourself to death.” He strolled to the door.

“Kid?”

Kid glanced back.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, little brother.”

As the door closed, Chance went back to the kitchen for more milk. Was their love the twenty-four-carat-gold, slip-on-the-left-hand kind? He had thought so. What had changed?
Shay is not Blanche.
Kid was right. He did have that connection confused in his mind. Shay was nothing like her mother.

You have to forgive Mommy.

Could he do that?

Could he truly put the past behind him?

Only time would tell.

W
ITH EACH DAY
, Blanche grew worse, and finally hospice was called in. The doctor had ordered a morphine drip to keep the pain at bay. Her breathing was shallow and difficult. Shay knew her mother would not be with her much longer. As much as she had prepared herself, it still wasn’t easy.

If she even left the room, Blanche became agitated. Shay had to stop working to care for her, and had to drop out of summer class at the university. Quitting work was a big decision, because now they would have no income. She had a little nest egg tucked away and they had to live on that. Somehow they would survive.

It was early August and Darcy wasn’t back in school yet, which was a good thing. Shay’s main focus had to be on her mother.

One night Blanche’s coughing woke her. She got up from the chair and could see she was in distress. Picking up the phone, she dialed 911. The ambulance arrived in minutes and whisked Blanche away to the hospital.

Shay ran into Darcy’s room and gathered her and Tiny into her arms, then ran next door. It was one
o’clock in the morning, so it took Nettie a while to get to the door.

Last week there had been a robbery down the street, and Shay knew Nettie was being cautious. She pounded on the door with her fist. “Nettie, it’s me. Open up.”

The door opened a crack and the older woman, her gray hair askew, peered out. Undoing the chain, she said, “Come in, child.”

Shay handed over her load. Darcy didn’t even stir. “The ambulance just picked up Blanche. I have to go. Please take care of Darcy.”

“Of course.”

She kissed Nettie’s wrinkled cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out, child, because I’m always here for you. You know that.”

“Thank you.” With that, Shay was off, running through the dark. She remembered so many times she’d made this same trek as a kid, afraid the darkness was going to eat her up.

She held out her arms. “Come and get me,” she said to the night. She could handle anything. She’d been tempered by the fire of rejection, the evil of bitterness and the cruelties of life. All that was left was the dying.

Could she handle that—alone?

Within minutes she was in her car and headed for the hospital. The E.R. people were trying to get Blanche stabilized. Shay waited in a small room.

Finally, the doctor came out. He handed her a small envelope. “Your mother’s rings are enclosed. Valuables should be kept at home. They can so easily be stolen.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the envelope. What should she do with them?

“Ms. Dumont, I’m afraid it’s not going to be much longer. Would you like me to call someone so you won’t be alone?”

But she was alone. The person she wanted to be here would never come. Though she needed him more than she’d ever needed anyone.

“No. Thank you.”

The doctor nodded. “We’re moving her to ICU. You can sit with her there.”

“Thank you.”

Shay put the rings in her purse and made her way upstairs. Her hair was everywhere, like Nettie’s. She fished for a clip in her purse, but couldn’t find one, so gave up. The nurse showed her to Blanche’s cubicle. The unit was round, so the nurses at the station had a clear view of every patient.

Shay sat by her mother’s bedside. Blanche was so pale, so still. When she turned her head, Shay almost jumped out of her chair. Her mother weakly opened her eyes.

“Ci-ga-rette.” The word came out low, but Shay heard it.

“Mom, you can’t have a cigarette. You haven’t had one in over four years and you certainly can’t have one in here.”

“J-just…hold.”

How was she supposed to find a cigarette in a hospital? But being the dutiful daughter, she went in search of one. She stopped at the nurses’ station.

“Does anyone have a cigarette?”

Four pairs of eyes stared at her in disbelief.

“Oh, no, it’s not for me,” she hastened to say. “I don’t smoke. My mother just wants to hold one.”

They glanced at each other and shook their heads. No one smoked.

“Thanks.” She made her way back to her mother’s bedside. Before she could sit down, a nurse who’d been at the station tucked a cigarette into her hand and walked away.

Evidently, she didn’t want anyone to know she smoked, and rightfully so. She’d probably get a daily lecture. The woman worked in a hospital and saw death on a regular basis—a lot of it caused by smoking. Shay didn’t quite get that. But it was her choice, her decision. Shay had her own problems.

She placed the cigarette between her mother’s forefinger and middle one. “Mom?” she murmured.

Blanche opened her eyes and saw the cigarette. She managed a faint smile. “You’re…a…good…daughter.”

“Please don’t try to talk,” Shay begged, as her mother struggled to breathe. But she soaked up the words like dry cotton.

“I’m…sorry.”

And just like that, the years of resentment and bitterness disappeared. Her mother had never said she was sorry, so Shay knew she meant it. And for her own peace of mind, Shay took it to mean she was sorry for hurting Chance.

“Love…you,” Blanche whispered, and raised her hand to sniff the cigarette. “Ah…” Suddenly the
cigarette fell to the bed, and Blanche gasped for air. Her chest rose and slowly relaxed, and Shay knew her mother had gone to a happier place. The monitors attached to Blanche went off like a fire alarm. Two nurses came running in and Shay moved away as they checked her over.

One nurse looked at Shay. “I’m sorry. She’s passed on.”

“I know,” Shay replied, and took her mother’s limp hand. “I love you, too.” She walked out and down the hall to a waiting room, and collapsed in a chair. She was mentally and physically drained. The waiting area was empty, and that’s the way she felt inside—empty and alone.

Shay had thought that she was prepared, but as tears rolled down her cheeks she realized she wasn’t. The mother-daughter bond had been bent, bruised and almost severed, but it was still there to the bitter end. So many lies and deceit, and yet their relationship had survived in its own unique way.

Shay chewed on a nail, then forced herself to stop. While Chance had been in her life, she’d been happy and had stopped biting her nails. Now…

Her mother had hurt so many people. Shay would never understand that, but she sincerely hoped Blanche was now at peace. More tears rolled from her eyes and she wrapped her arms around her waist to stop the trembling.

She needed two strong arms to hold her, to console her. But Chance was never going to forgive her,
and now she had to live with the consequences of her actions.

To live without Chance.

C
HANCE WAS IN
his office, typing notes and comments into the computer so Cadde could see the progress, or lack of progress, on each site. The tool pushers sent notes in, too, so Cadde had a clear picture on the status of the wells.

Chance paused over the Crocker well notes. The pumpjack had been set two weeks ago and the well was producing over two hundred barrels a day. Cadde would probably dance on his desk at these figures. It was good for the Crocker family and for Shilah Oil.

Kid marched in and slapped a newspaper in front of Chance. It was turned to the obituaries.

“Blanche Dumont died,” he said.

“So?”

Kid stuck the paper in his face.

Chance stared at the picture of Blanche in her younger days, when she could turn a man’s head. His gut tightened, but he looked at the woman. For the first time he admitted that Shay resembled her mother only slightly. They had the same blonde hair and green eyes, but the shape of the face and eyes were different. Their personalities were different, too. Shay was caring, loving and good all the way to her soul. As Darcy had said, her mom would never hurt anyone.

He let out a long breath.

Shay is not Blanche.

Funny how looking at a picture had brought the
truth to the surface—a truth that had been temporarily hiding beneath the pain. He drew another breath and let the pain ebb from his system.

He wasn’t his father, either. He was his own person and had his own mistakes to make. He briefly read the obit and wondered how Shay was doing. How was she coping?

Kid leaned over and placed both hands flat on the desk, his face inches from Chance’s. “What you do now will determine your future. Make sure you do the right thing.”

“Are you reading some sort of book on wisdom?” Chance asked, his voice teasing.

“Hell, no. The wisdom I have I got from Aunt Etta.”

“But who knew you were listening?”

The conversation was interrupted by Cadde. “Chance, do you have the figures on the Crocker well?”

“I just sent them to your computer.”

“Good.”

Kid pointed to the paper. “Blanche Dumont died.”

“Oh.” Cadde glanced at Chance. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. I’m going to be fine.” He leaned back in his chair. “Blanche destroyed our parents’ lives for some selfish reason of her own. I can’t change that and I can’t keep holding all this anger inside me. They were adults and made their own choices. Now I have to make mine.”

Cadde nodded. “Sounds as if you’ve come to grips with it.”

“Yep.” He leaned forward. “It’s time to move on.”

“Wise advice.” Cadde turned to Kid. “Did you read
the geologist and engineer report on our leases in the Eagle Ford area?”

“Yes. They’re damn good and should be very productive for Shilah Oil. We just have to get Jessie to agree.”

“I can handle Jessie.”

“Since when?” Kid asked as they walked out. “You haven’t made any progress in that direction in months. Hell, I have a better chance of persuading her than you do.”

“Shut up, Kid, and go to work.”

They bickered all the way down the hall, and Chance smiled for the first time in weeks. He was going to be okay. His brothers had his back and the world looked brighter than usual.

He stood and stared out the window, wondering if he and Shay could find their way back to each other.

Would the past always be an obstacle?

T
HE DAY OF THE FUNERAL
dawned cloudy and there was rain in the forecast. Shay thought it was fitting for a woman whose life had been fraught with heartache and pain.

There was only a graveside service, with her, Darcy and Nettie attending. Blanche had alienated her friends a long time ago. The pastor from Shay and Darcy’s church performed a short ceremony and Darcy read a prayer. Just like that, a life ended.

Shay said a silent goodbye to a woman she didn’t understand, a woman she barely knew—one who’d flittered in and out of her life from time to time. Blanche
certainly wasn’t a baking-cookies, PTA type mom, but could dish out guilt like cheesecake. She hadn’t been a mother at all. With Nettie’s help, Shay had practically raised herself. But the blood bond was there.

Now it was over. Shay prayed her mother had found some sort of peace.

Nettie nodded over her shoulder and Shay turned to see what she was nodding at.

A black Cadillac Escalade drove up to the curb. A tall, broad-shouldered man got out on the driver’s side. Shay knew who he was from the pictures she’d seen at Southern Cross—Judd Calhoun. A black-haired, beautiful woman joined him—Caitlyn, his wife. From the backseat she saw Renee emerging. What were they doing here?

“Darcy, stay with Nettie,” she said, and walked toward them.

When she reached Judd, he said, “I was never too fond of Blanche, but my mother wanted to come today and I couldn’t let her come alone.”

Caitlyn hugged her. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Shay replied, a little dazed.

Renee hugged her in a cloud of Chanel. “Sugar, I’m so sorry—so sorry for everything you had to go through.”

“Th-thank you.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this when I brought you the rings.” Renee reached into the car and pulled out a large velvet box.

Shay recognized it and took a step backward. “No,” she muttered.

“This is Blanche’s jewelry. You should have it,” the woman insisted.

“No,” she said again. “I could never take it. It’s tainted with too much heartache and betrayal.” She opened her purse and fished out the rings. “Take these, too. I don’t want them. It was such a nice gesture, but I can’t keep them.”

“Oh, Shay,” Renee murmured, and there was nothing but sincerity in her voice.

“How can you be so nice to me? My mother was your worst enemy. She hurt you, lied about you and destroyed your first marriage.”

Renee touched her cheek. “Sugar, I’m not doing this for Blanche. I’m doing this for you.”

“Oh.” The response took the wind out of her lungs. Could they possibly see her as her own person and not Blanche’s daughter?

“Tell you what I’ll do,” Judd said. “I’ll have the jewelry appraised, sell it and send you the money.”

“You can use it for your daughter’s education,” Caitlyn suggested. “Use it for good and forget about the bad stuff.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m overwhelmed.”

“That’s understandable, sugar,” Renee said.

It was starting to drizzle, and Judd glanced toward the sky.

“We better go. It looks as if a downpour is coming.”

Shay waved with tears in her eyes as they drove away, and then she walked back to her daughter and Nettie. The Calhouns’ presence here today was truly
a gift. They had forgiven her. How she wished Chance could make the same effort.

T
HEY STOOD FOR A MOMENT
longer at the gravesite in the drizzling rain.

“I’m getting wet,” Darcy said.

“Then let’s go, child.” Nettie took her hand.

Shay stared at the coffin and vowed that she would leave all the bad stuff here: the anger, the bitterness, the resentment and the evil schemes of her mother. From this day forward she would try to fill her and Darcy’s life with goodness.

Darcy screamed and Shay whirled around to see what she was upset about. Darcy was flying across the lawn to a man getting out of a big silver truck.

Chance!

Shay’s heart knocked against her ribs so hard that she had to take a breath.