She eased up on one elbow and gazed down at her husband. He looked so peaceful. She wondered how he could sleep with all the turmoil in their life right now. Her own mind buzzed with so many fractured thoughts, she had trouble separating them as they flew around in her brain. Too many unanswered questions: Royce’s death, the car, the loan due tomorrow. Tomorrow? Oh no! Tomorrow was already here!
Spurred by the sudden realization that time was running out, she slipped out of bed, grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the shower, praying the ancient water pipes wouldn’t rattle too loudly. An idea that had been brewing in her mind since yesterday began to take shape.
By the time she’d eaten a raisin bagel and finished her orange juice, the sun had already heated the morning air to a muggy eighty-two degrees. As she reflected on her effort to get Buddy Lee to talk about his plight, she dumped the earlier attempt at eggs into the trash along with two rock-hard pieces of cold toast, then rinsed her juice glass.
No, their plight, she amended. She was in this as deep, or deeper, than he was. If it wasn’t for her stupid recklessness, there’d be no plight to deal with.
On her way to the refrigerator with the carton of juice, she punched Play on the tape player and turned the volume down low. Mickey Gilley’s seductive voice sang to her this time about true love ways. Her heart stumbled, remembering. Leave it to Buddy Lee to use honky-tonk blues music and sweet-talking lyrics to tell her what he couldn’t say out loud.
She hadn’t known he was such a smooth dancer. No wonder the girls in school had always tried to convince him to show up at the school dances. He never asked them out, though. She should have wondered about that at the time, but she’d been too busy planning her next rebellion against her daddy to pay attention. Too busy looking for love in all the wrong places.
Back then, Buddy Lee had been a pal as well as her protector. And she’d been a foolish, mixed-up young girl who didn’t know a good thing when it stood right in front of her. She’d been so blind. How lucky she’d finally gotten a chance to discover the important things in life. To discover the loving side of Buddy Lee Walker. Even if she didn’t deserve it.
She peeked in the bedroom. Thank goodness, she could slip away before he woke up. She didn’t want him trying to protect her from her daddy’s wrath that would surely come down on her head. This was something she had to do on her own. For Buddy Lee, for herself, and for the future she hoped they would share.
She dashed off a quick note saying she was going to check on her mama. She hoped he believed her.
If she hurried, she could catch her daddy before he left for the bank. If she was lucky, her mama would still be in bed. She didn’t think she could deal with more than one problem at a time.
Chapter Fourteen
Buddy Lee came awake with a startled jerk, momentarily forgetting where he was and wondering if he’d already been tried and found guilty. There’d been a trial and a jury in his dreams, one that convicted him—not for committing a crime—but for being Boyd’s boy.
Cold sweat slicked his bare skin. He reached for Faith, for reassurance that he was really home and not behind bars. Panic whopped him when nothing but empty space met his seeking hand. He rolled over, ready to believe the worst. Then a replay of the early morning session at the police station kicked in, and he remembered how Faith had jumped to his defense.
How about the way she went after ol’ Elroy? Man, she was all over that cousin of hers like ugly on an ape, shaking her fist at him and giving him what for. She’d been a regular spitfire, proclaiming her husband’s innocence loud and clear to anyone within shouting distance. And he was innocent, dammit.
He wouldn’t deny that he despised Royce Webb. The world would be better off without scum like his wife’s ex-fiancé. And yeah, he’d tried to pound him to a pulp when he’d threatened Faith’s safety. If the jerk hadn’t run off, leaving him to make tracks to get Faith to a doctor, no telling how much damage he’d have done to him. But murder? No way. One Walker behind bars was more than enough.
Fresh from a quick shower, he made his way to the kitchen in search of his wife and, hopefully, a good-morning kiss. All he found was coffee and another damned note on the counter. Aw, come on, Faith. Was this some kind of weird game of hers, leaving a note then disappearing while he was asleep? If she intended to torment him, she was succeeding big time.
He snatched up the piece of paper, read the few words and tossed it on the table. At least this time she’d told him where she was going. He couldn’t very well blame her for wanting to see her mama, so he tried to shove aside his disappointment at not having her, all sleepy-eyed and warm, to wake up with.
He’d been looking forward to spending some quality time with her this morning before he went to work. Precious time he felt they needed in order to explore their feelings, define their hopes and dreams, and decide whether or not their future together even had a snowball’s chance.
Oh, he knew he could probably find a job at halfway decent wages. He was a damned good mechanic, and as long as trucks and cars kept rolling off the assembly lines, there’d be a need for someone to repair them.
But his hope of achieving his dream—that burning need to be more than just Boyd’s boy—had disappeared when he gave up his treasured Mustang. Without it, there was nothing left. The years of sacrifice and hard work meant zip now. He had a wife to support. And a baby on the way that wasn’t his. Just thinking about that hatched a whole slew of doubts about his sanity. Even though he’d promised to be the daddy, he wondered if he could honestly keep a pledge like that. One that challenged him to be the kind of man worthy of being called “Daddy.” Or would he always look at the child and see Royce? Was he strong enough to endure the torment of living with Faith, knowing another man had given her a child?
And there was always the possibility that she intended to end their marriage after the baby was born. They’d never seriously discussed any plans beyond the birth. Shoot, he’d just taken it for granted that he’d be around, a part of their future. Maybe that had been wishful thinking on his part.
He sat drinking his coffee and wallowing in self-pity until the phone rang.
“Yeah?” he snapped into the mouthpiece.
“Walker, you need to get over to the sheriff’s office right away,” Elroy Pike told him.
“Wanna explain why?” His mood was just resentful enough to be nasty, even if it did add another alligator to the swamp. Hell, one more wouldn’t make any difference now.
“Let’s just say it’s in your best interest.”
Jeez. He had a sudden urge to tell Elroy where he could shove his superior attitude. He snapped his mouth shut instead because, after all, the sheriff was the law and Buddy Lee was tiptoeing mighty close to the lock-up door.
So he swallowed his angry retort. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes, Elroy.” He glanced at the kitchen clock. “And tell your boys to lay off their radar when they see my truck.”
He plunked the receiver down before Newcomb County’s finest had a chance to spout a response. Draining his coffee cup in one gulp, he grabbed an apple from the fridge and headed out the door. Helluva way to start the day.
“Hello, Daddy.” Faith stood in the doorway to the familiar dining room of her parents’ home. Surprised to find the front door unlocked, she’d quietly let herself in without knocking. Avoiding giving her daddy advance notice of her arrival was definitely in her favor.
Lionel Morgan glanced away from reading the morning business news, and a glower darkened his face the instant he recognized his caller.
“You have no reason to be here. See yourself out.” He snapped the newspaper and returned his full attention to it.
Faith studied her father’s profile, visible from where she stood. He seemed to have grown older since she’d last seen him just a few days before. His face was lined and slightly puffy, with a weariness she’d never noticed clouding his eyes. But his tongue had lost none of its razor-like sharpness.
&nbs
p; He’d always been able to cut her down with a look or a single word, constantly reminding her that she was a Morgan with a reputation in the community to uphold. Like she could ever forget.
She quickly erected her own personal invisible shield against the hurtful tirade she knew would come, and strode into the room. “I have every reason to be here.”
Lionel laid the paper down on the table, and pushing his chair back, started to rise.
Faith caught him by the arm. “No, Daddy, don’t try to ignore me this time. Sit down. There’s something important I want you to hear, so I’ll talk and you’ll listen.”
Obviously stunned by her tenacity, Lionel sat back down. Then his gray eyes narrowed and his mouth thinned. Once again he was the inflexible parent of her youth.
Faith quickly took a seat opposite him at the table, and remembering what was at stake, drew courage from somewhere deep inside and plunged into her speech before she lost her nerve.
“I found out about your underhanded trick to call in Buddy Lee’s note—” Her father started to protest, but she charged on. “Did you stop to think about everyone your spitefulness might hurt? Of course not. As usual, it’s always about the money.” She leaned toward him. “Well, you know what? Money is the only company you’re going to have in your old age, because I won’t be here and neither will your first grandchild.”
Regret squeezed her heart. She was bidding a final good-bye to a parent who refused to let love enrich his life.
She’d always felt invisible around her daddy. At first she’d looked to her mama for support, but that never happened. Beryl Morgan was so intimidated by her husband that she never crossed him, rarely disputed his word. To say she was submissive would be the understatement of the year. So with sadness, Faith acknowledged the very real possibility that her mama would stand by him.
Sorry for the few family ties being cut, she hugged her arms to her chest and eyed her father sitting silently, jaw set in a stubborn line. “You’ll never know the joy of bouncing that baby on your knee or having tiny arms hug your neck. Never cuddle a little one close to your heart or sing sweet lullabies. You missed that happiness with your own child.”
She struggled to keep her voice level as she added, “All I ever wanted was for you to love me for myself, not as a reflection of the Morgan money. My child will be rich with love instead of cold cash. I pity you, Daddy. I really do.”
Gulping air to steady herself, she saw his expression change and felt a trace of satisfaction. It looked as if he was regarding her for the first time as an individual with valid opinions and the right to be respected for them.
But he shattered that illusion quickly.
Lionel’s face reddened. His breathing grew harsh, his eyes flashed. “Ungrateful! You’ve always been ungrateful for all the privileges the name Morgan afforded you. Now you come in here and accuse me of underhandedness? You choose the white trash you’re sleeping with over your family?” He stabbed the newspaper with his finger. “According to this, your husband is a suspect in Royce Webb’s murder. Hhmmph! Like father, like son.”
“Like father, like son”...No, Daddy, like father like daughter.
By the time she was twelve, Faith had concluded that her parents were united against her. Thus, the rebellion of her teen years had become her prime ambition. She’d worked hard at it, too. Ask anyone in town.
Then Buddy Lee began to act as a buffer between her wild escapades and her irate parent, making her acts of defiance that much easier. As her friend, he could always be counted on to pick up after her and occasionally take the blame to save her skin. And she’d been selfish enough to let him, disregarding any hurt or humiliation he might have suffered on her account.
Had she subconsciously thought that because of his name, he had no feelings? The suspicion that her actions back then made her no better than her father sickened her.
“Buddy Lee didn’t kill Royce.” She didn’t want to cry. But right then, guilty tears burned behind her eyes, ready to spill at the slightest provocation.
How could she have known this would hurt so much? She swallowed back the tears. Her heart felt poked full of holes, and all the love she’d saved up to share with her parents was leaking out. But she couldn’t talk rationally while blubbering through a waterfall, so she laced her fingers together in her lap, gripped them tight, and talked faster.
“What if I told you the baby isn’t Buddy Lee’s? That the father is Royce, who betrayed everyone’s trust. A man who only cared about money. Like you, Daddy.”
“What do you mean?” Lionel barked. “Of course, the kid is a Walker. You said so, yourself. You and Boyd Walker’s boy ran off and got married and humiliated us all. Shamed the Morgan name.”
Lionel’s voice boomed across the room like a cannon’s echo, but Faith refused to be browbeaten any longer. “No I didn’t. What you’re doing is shameful. You never tried to understand. Never cared enough to be there when I needed you. Now you’re getting revenge by punishing Buddy Lee for something he had nothing to do with. Nothing, you hear? You’re destroying his business when you should be helping him build it for your grandchild’s security. A child that has Morgan blood. Your blood.”
She shuddered and took a deep breath. “Buddy Lee is a bigger man than you’ll ever be, because he didn’t condemn me or turn his back on me when I needed help. Because he’s decent and willing to marry me so an innocent child that’s not even his could have a father—and a name. Because,” her voice broke, snagged on a sob, “because my baby’s unscrupulous father is dead, and I don’t even care. All the money in your bank won’t buy what really matters. Love and respect.”
The tears came now in torrents. She buried her head in her hands and let them flow unchecked. She had more to explain, much more to reveal, but right now she needed the cleansing release that crying brought to her anguished heart.
A hand pressed lightly on her shoulder, so faint she barely felt it. A gentle hand that had been too long absent in giving solace, but Faith’s bruised heart recognized the touch immediately.
“Mama?”
Beryl Morgan tenderly stroked her daughter’s cheek. “I’m here, Faith, where I should’ve been a long time ago. I heard everything. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?” Then she turned to her husband, one comforting hand still on Faith’s shoulder.
“She’s right, you know, Lionel.” Despite the soft tone, Beryl’s words packed a punch. “We’re both guilty of dereliction of duty as parents. You believed money and prestige substituted for love. You were wrong. By letting you control our lives, I thought I was being a dutiful wife and loving mother.” She shook her head, eyes filled with sadness. “Both terrible mistakes. Because of our warped sense of duty, our misplaced pride, we’re about to lose the most precious gift God ever gave us—our child. Think about it, Lionel. I don’t want to lose a grandchild, too.”
Beryl left Faith’s side, and with head high and clear determination strode over to stand beside her husband’s chair. There was no mistaking the new mantle of strength she had taken.
Faith’s heart swelled with love for this fragile woman who, after all these years, had finally found the courage to demand the respect she deserved.
“If you don’t tell your son-in-law, and yes, I mean Buddy Lee Walker, that you’ll extend his loan without interest and go to the sheriff to confirm his air-tight alibi for the night of Royce’s death, then I’ll be moving out, too.” She paused and looked Lionel straight in the eye. “And don’t think I’ll hesitate to go to Elroy if you decide not to. Buddy Lee was here that night, and I’ll sign a statement to the effect. I don’t want to give up a chance to be a part of our daughter’s and our grandchild’s life, and if I have to do it without you, so be it.
I’ve waited too long to have real love in my life.”
Lionel squirmed in his seat. “Blast it, Beryl,” his fist hit the table, “haven’t I given you everything you asked for? You’ve got the biggest house in town, expensive clothes, luxury
car. What more do you need?” He slumped back in his chair, clearly puzzled by his wife’s demands.
“You truly don’t know, do you, Lionel?” Beryl placed both hands on the table and leaned toward him. “Maybe if you think seriously about what your own life has become, you’ll understand and do the right thing. Is losing your family worth the money you consider so important? Do you want to grow old all alone?” Taking a deep breath that shuddered clear through her, the newly-confident Beryl Morgan squared her frail shoulders. “I don’t intend to.”
Faith rushed forward and flung her arms around her mama in a long overdue hug that had them both smiling through their tears. “I love you, Mama. So much.”
Beryl hugged her back. “I love you, too, child. And I suspect you love Buddy Lee, as well.”
“I do,” came Faith’s adamant reply as mother and daughter stood arm-in-arm. “But I’m not sure he feels the same way. Helping me has cost him everything he’s worked for, and unless a miracle happens, he’ll lose his business. He must regret ever seeing me again, since I’ve been nothing but trouble for him for as long as I can remember.”
Beryl moved from her daughter’s side and stood across the room to gaze out of the window. After a long pause, she turned her attention from the perfectly groomed gardens outside to the daughter who needed her now more than ever.
“Something tells me Buddy Lee wouldn’t make such a sacrifice if he didn’t care a great deal about you, sweetheart. That he offered to give your child his name says a great deal about his sincerity. Obviously, you mean more to him than money.”
“Ha!” Lionel scoffed. “He’s smart enough to know he needs the Morgan money to keep from losing that business of his.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Lionel. Buddy Lee loves Faith.”
The pointed look her mama sent her daddy right then was filled with newfound feminine courage, and Faith silently applauded.
“Do you really think so?” She wanted to believe her mama more than anything, but her own usual self-confidence was in danger of slipping.