CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Lulu sat on the edge of her bed, holding her pine chest in her lap, waiting for daybreak. Her left shoulder had been bandaged, making it immobile. Although it had been two days since the fire, her body still ached all over and her throat and lungs were raw from the smoke she had inhaled. Yet she considered herself fortunate.
Her hands rested on the top of the chest as she stared at the floor. She had carried the precious container with her for twenty-five years. It held her most treasured belongings – a small oval locket with her mother’s likeness in it, a hair ribbon her first beau had given her, a few letters from friends now gone -- and her secret. But the time had come to share that secret. She owed Tyler the truth, though she dreaded the price she would pay for it.
Lulu ran her hand lovingly over the chest, dark now from years of travel and lemon oil polish. With a tremulous sigh, she glanced around the cozy room. She had grown to love the Cavanaugh home. But more than that, she had grown to love the people in it. She had never felt like she belonged anywhere until she had come to Bellefleur. Now she would have to leave. Once Tyler knew the truth, he wouldn’t want her there.
Dashing away a tear, she opened the chest and selected one of the objects in it -- a slender wooden soldier, perhaps ten inches tall, with a black rifle at his side and a black hat on his head. The paint of his bright blue uniform had chipped in places, and the black boots were scuffed from a small boy marching him across the floor. Lulu bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling as she stood and placed the soldier on the bed. Beside it she put the letter she had written.
Picking up her satchel, Lulu paused at the door to look back at the soldier. Stifling a sob, she hurried down the stairs and let herself quietly out the door, heading toward town as the first rays of the morning sun appeared in the east. With a heavy heart, she paused to look back, then trudged slowly up the road. With any luck, she would be able to catch an early train out.
Claire awoke with a start, thinking she heard the clang of fire bells. She sat up, ready to bolt from the bed, then she realized she’d only been dreaming. With a relieved sigh, she threw back the cover and slid out of bed. Slipping on her wrapper, she headed for the stairs. The smell of smoke still hung heavily in the air, and she shuddered. She’d come so close to losing her home -- but now she knew that even if she had, as long as her loved ones were safe, she could go on.
The other revelation to come out of the near tragedy was that Tyler truly loved her. Now, at last, Claire felt that her life was coming together.
She walked down the main hallway, expecting to hear Lulu humming as she made breakfast. But the kitchen was empty and the stove was cold. Thinking that Lulu had slept late, Claire put the coffee on herself.
“Morning,” Tyler said, as he came into the kitchen a few minutes later. She smiled up at him as he bent to kiss her. Then he looked around with a perplexed frown. “Where’s Lulu?”
“She must be sleeping in today. You’ll have to take your chances with my cooking.”
Tyler grimaced as he filled a cup with coffee. “Do I have a choice?”
“Cee Cee?” Emily said as she made her way into the kitchen. “Where’s Lulu?”
“She’s still asleep.”
“No she’s not,” Emily replied. “I just went to her room. She’s not there.”
“Maybe she went out to the garden for some fresh mint,” Claire suggested. “She loves mint tea in the morning.”
Tyler opened the back door and looked out. “I don’t see her.”
“Something’s wrong, Cee Cee,” Emily insisted.
“Let’s check upstairs.” Claire started down the hallway, with Tyler on her heels and Emily following behind. They met Jonas at the top of the stairs, adjusting the cuffs of his white shirt.
“Is there a parade?” he asked jovially.
“We’re looking for Lulu,” Emily told him. “She’s missing.”
“I’m sure she’s here someplace, Em,” Claire assured her. But when she spotted the letter on Lulu’s bed, she knew better. “It’s for you, Tyler,” she said in some surprise.
With a puzzled look, Tyler silently skimmed the paper. As he read, his face grew stony and his jaw muscles tightened. He glanced at the soldier on the bed, then wordlessly handed the letter to Claire and walked out. Claire looked at Jonas in surprise.
“Why did Tyler leave?” Emily asked.
Jonas frowned. “I’m not sure, Em, but I think we’d better read the letter.”
“Should we?” Claire asked doubtfully.
“I think he wanted you to,” Jonas replied.
Claire sat down and began to read out loud.
Dear Tyler, First of all, I want to tell you how proud I am of you. You’ve proved yourself a good man – strong, honest and brave -- and I only wish I could take credit for it.
Claire paused to glance up at Jonas, who seemed as bewildered as she.
I know I should say this to you face to face but I was afraid of what I would see in your eyes when you learned the truth. You’ve probably figured out by now what I’m going to tell you; maybe you’ve even known all along deep down inside. I’m your mama.
“Bloody hell,” Jonas said under his breath, his eyes meeting Claire’s equally stunned gaze.
“Lulu is Tyler’s mother?” Emily asked.
Claire nodded and kept reading.
You probably think I was a terrible mother, and you’re right. I was young and alone and scared. I took the easy way out and left you with your uncle so you’d get a decent upbringing. But it wasn’t easy at all -- it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I don’t regret doing it though, not when I see how you’ve turned out.
I didn’t plan on us ever meeting again, son, but now I’m glad I had the opportunity to get to know you as a man. I’m leaving you a gift, a little treasure I’ve kept because it reminded me of you. I only hope you can forgive me one day, and believe that I never stopped loving you. You were my sweet little boy, my cutie. I know you’ll be a good husband to Claire, and some day you’ll make a fine father, too. Take care of my little angel, Emily, and tell that old limey I’ll never forget him.
I love you, my precious boy.
Your mama, Louise McCane
Claire blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. Jonas’s eyes were watery too.
Emily’s chin began to quiver. “She’s gone for good, isn’t she?”
Claire put her arm around her sister as she glanced at Jonas over her head. “Maybe not, Em. Maybe we can bring her back.”
“I think you’d better talk to Tyler about that first,” Jonas said with a doubtful frown. “Em, why don’t you and I see if we can rustle up some breakfast?”
As Jonas and Emily headed for the kitchen, Claire picked up the wooden soldier, remembering the look on Tyler’s face when he saw it. He was furious, but he had to be hurting, as well. His mother had left him again. Yet just as before, Lulu would not have left him if she hadn’t believed it was the wisest decision. Now Claire had to convince Tyler to bring her back.
She found him sitting on the riverbank, skipping stones across the water. Wordlessly she sat down beside him, cradling the soldier. He glanced at her, then down at the object in her lap. She saw the muscles in his jaw clench.
He held out his hand. “Give that thing to me.”
Claire tightened her hold on it. “You’ll throw it away.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Your mother wanted you to have it.”
Tyler scoffed.
Claire sighed, wondering how to reach him. “Tyler, listen: Lulu obviously loved you. That’s why she held onto this toy all these years.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “She held onto a toy and let her child go? Is that how you’d show love to your child?”
“You read her letter. You know why she left you. She thought she’d do you more harm if she stayed.”
“Or maybe she just didn’t think I was worth loving.” Tyler picked up another stone and sent it skipping out over the water. “She ruined my life.”
“Is your life ruined? Have you been unhappy these past twenty-five years?”
He frowned as he tossed another stone. “You know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Claire retorted angrily. “Terrible things have happened to me, too, but they haven’t ruined my life.” She thrust the soldier in his hand. “Here then -- throw it away. You probably don’t even remember it, anyway.”
Tyler slowly closed his hand around the soldier’s waist. Why not throw it away? Hadn’t his mother thrown him away? Why hold onto an object that only brought back painful memories, things he’d worked for years to erase from his mind?
Tyler glanced down at the soldier’s unsmiling face. He’d had four soldiers, all with different colored uniforms. Those soldiers had suffered right along with him as he’d lain awake at night, frightened and alone, holding his hands over his ears while his father swore and his mother cried and things crashed all around them. And the soldiers had listened, just as Tyler had, to the tirade of angry words his mother had poured out later, words his father had never heard because he’d always been passed out cold.
Then, one night, it was over. His father had left them. There was no more shouting or crying or loud crashes. But shortly afterward, Tyler had been bundled up with his few clothes and toys and taken to New Orleans. He’d had no idea what had become of the blue soldier. He’d always thought he’d lost it in the move.
Tyler pulled back his arm, ready to cast the toy far out into the river. Why had she kept the damn soldier if she never intended for them to meet?
The words in Lulu’s letter jumped into his mind. “I’m leaving you a gift, a little treasure I’ve kept because it reminded me of you.”
Tyler hesitated, then slowly lowered his arm. He didn’t want to believe she cared that much. He made himself remember that terrible day in New Orleans, the last time he’d seen her.
“Please, Mama, please don’t leave me here. I need you.”
“You need someone who can give you a decent home. I can’t do that.”
“Don’t you love me, Mama?”
“Sure I love you, cutie. That’s why I have to do this. But I’ll come back and see you.”
She had lied to him, then. How could he believe her now? He handed the soldier to Claire. “Do what you want with it. If you want to keep it, I won’t stop you.” He got up and started back to the house.
Claire jumped up and followed him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to town to see about getting lumber for a new barn.”
She stared at him in bewilderment. How could he act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened? He’d just found his mother! “I thought that maybe you’d decided to go after Lulu.”
“What for?”
“What for?” she cried, coming to a sudden stop.
Tyler halted, too, a look of exasperation on his face. “Yes, what for?”
Claire shook her head and started walking rapidly. “Damn you, Tyler McCane, do you know what I would give to have my mother back, or my father?”
“You weren’t abandoned, Claire.”
Infuriated, she stopped in front of him. “Wasn’t I? Do you know what happened when my mother and I were thrown out of Boothe’s house with no money and nowhere to go? We lived wherever we could find shelter -- alleys, barns, under bridges -- and during the day, when my mother was searching for work or food, I was left alone.”
As the memories came back, Claire’s breathing grew faster. She clenched her jaws to keep from trembling as she spoke. “Do you know the kind of men who live in those places? Horrible, disgusting men, filthy men who take pleasure in terrorizing children, especially young girls. I hid for hours under dirty, woolen blankets, too afraid to move for fear of them discovering me. I’ll never be able to forget that.”
Claire closed her eyes and drew deep breaths, trying to ward off the panic. She was determined to tell the whole story, to purge herself of her guilty secret. “But they did find me. And they – “she gritted her teeth to get out the words, “-- touched me with their filthy hands.”
Tyler put his arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t have any idea.”
Feeling trapped, suffocated, Claire pushed away from him as the nightmare images flashed through her mind. She dragged each breath through a constricted throat, the pain of those memories so sharp it felt as though a knife were slicing through her heart. “My mother chased them off before ---“ Claire shuddered, unable to finish the sentence. “She was horrified at what almost happened, and took care to find a safer place to leave me after that, but ---”
She pressed her hands against her temples as the words finally tumbled out, the guilt she had carried for years. “But I still hated her for putting me through that ordeal. I hated her for that until the day she died.”
Tyler caught her to him and held her as she sobbed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her ear. “I know how you feel. You have every right to be angry. But believe me, it’s going to be all right.”
Tyler’s words broke through the thick, smothering blanket of guilt and torment. He understood. “How could I have hated my mother?” Claire asked, wiping her eyes. “I was so ashamed of my feelings. She suffered so much more than I did.”
“I doubt that’s possible.”
“Reginald Boothe raped my mother, Tyler. That’s why she fled his house.” Claire drew a shaky breath. “Emily is Boothe’s daughter.”
Tyler’s face registered his shock, then darkened with fury. “The bastard!”
“Now you understand why my father despised him,” Claire said. “He always feared Boothe would find out and try to get Emily back.” She shook her head sadly. “I didn’t learn the truth about Emily until my mother died. I never knew what Boothe had done to her. When I finally found out, I couldn’t forgive myself for hating her.”
Tyler cupped Claire’s face. “You’ll get over it. You just have to push it out of your mind.”
“You can’t push it away, Tyler. It stays there, festering inside like an open wound. When I read Lulu’s letter, I suddenly realized that my mother, like yours, did the best she could. But it’s too late for me to tell her I forgive her.” Claire gripped his hands tightly. “Don’t make that mistake, Tyler. Lulu may not have done what was right, but she did what she thought was best. Forgive her, please. It may be too late for me, but it’s not for you.”
Tyler’s mind was so filled with confusion and anger, self-pity and pain, that he couldn’t respond. He was amazed at Claire’s resilience. He couldn’t imagine the bitterness she must have felt whenever she was reminded of what Boothe had done to her mother, or the anger she had harbored toward her mother for her silent suffering. He ached for her; he wanted to do whatever he could to soothe away her pain. But what Claire was asking him to do was impossible.
Her mother had not handed Claire to a stranger. She had not relinquished her duties as a mother. Lulu had abandoned him and then suddenly appeared, twenty-five years later, asking for forgiveness. Tyler wouldn’t absolve her for what she’d done. She deserved to suffer for the years of pain she had brought him.
And yet . . .
Tyler raked his fingers through his hair, digging them into his scalp.
Lulu was his mother.
Racked with emotional pain, he bent his head and scrunched his eyes shut, wishing he could reach into his chest and rip out his heart. He knew Claire was waiting for his answer, but his throat was so constricted he could barely reply. “I can’t forgive her,” he whispered.
With a sorrowful heart, Claire watched him stride away. She had known by the look on his face that her words hadn’t reached him. But it had taken her over four years to accept her own feelings. Indeed, until she read Lulu’s letter, she hadn’t realized she harbored such bitter feelings. She had buried them, believing she had no right to be that angry with her own mother. Now Claire understood that she did have the right to be angry. Terrible things had happened to her. And just knowing her feelings were justified, she could find it in her heart to forgive her mother.
Claire only hoped Tyler was able to come to the same conclusion before it was too late.
Tyler made the trip into town alone. In the distance, he heard a train whistle. For some reason he found himself wondering if Lulu would be on it, then angrily chided himself for thinking about her. She was gone -- out of his life. What did it matter where she went or what she did? She meant nothing to him. No doubt she would find another job as a housekeeper. That was probably how she had supported herself all those years.
He shook his head, remembering how, as a boy, he used to lie awake at night, wondering where she was and how she was surviving. Christmases were especially hard. He used to imagine that she’d married again and had another child, one she truly loved. Now he suspected she’d spent the majority of her holidays as someone’s hired help -- part of a household, yet never part of a family. She’d had no family to go home to.
Tyler’s jaw twitched angrily. Yes, she did have a family. She’d had him. It had been her decision to leave him behind. And for what? To cook and clean for other people’s children instead of her own? Was that the dream she had referred to in the kitchen that one evening?
“Do you have dreams, Lulu?”
“Me? I used to. And you?”
“Sure I have dreams. Big ones.”
“You’re awfully private, aren’t you?”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Maybe we’re just two of a kind.”
She had known then who he was. Why hadn’t she told him the truth? Was it her own guilt that had prevented her from being honest?
Tyler recalled the apple tart Lulu had saved for him. He had known exactly how it would taste before he bit into it -- now he knew why. Lulu had made apple tarts for him when he was little. He‘d help her roll out the dough, then she’d write his name in the crust with the tip of a knife. She’d had dark hair back then, and a thin, sad face. Yet he remembered times when the kitchen had been filled with her laughter, and her booming voice as she sang her favorite song.
Goosebumps ran up Tyler’s spine. The song he kept whistling -- it was her song. He could hear her young, hopeful voice as clear as a bell. “While strolling through the park one day, in the merry, merry month of May, I was taken by surprise by a pair of roguish eyes. In a moment my poor heart was stole away.”
She couldn’t have been more than twenty-two-years old then, coping with a drunken, abusive husband and raising an unruly young child.
“Sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Tyler had to chuckle at that. She had recited that to him every night, just after he’d said his prayers, and she’d kissed him and hugged him and called him her precious boy.
He pulled the buggy to a stop. Why had he forgotten those memories? Why had only the ugly ones stayed with him?
A wagon passed him, and someone called out a greeting. Tyler answered remotely, thinking of what Claire had said about wishing she could tell her mother she forgave her. “Don’t make that mistake, Tyler. Lulu may not have done what was right, but she did what she thought was best. Forgive her, please. It may be too late for me, but it’s not for you.”
The train whistled again. It was nearer now.
Tyler called to the horse and they started off at a trot. Over the trees he saw the spiraling column of smoke from the engine’s stack. Was Lulu waiting to get on it? Would she find another job quickly, another family to live with?
His mind began to fill with other, long-forgotten images, things he had deliberately pushed to the back of his mind. Why had he wanted to remember only the bad times? Had he wanted to punish himself for driving her away?
The train whistle sounded again. On a sudden whim, Tyler turned the horse in the direction of the station. There was no harm in checking to see if she was there.
How ironic, that for years he had convinced himself he was bad and unlovable, yet these newfound memories told him his mother had loved him deeply. She must have been overwhelmed by her situation. And when his father finally left them, even though she had surely been relieved, she also must have been terribly frightened to be on her own with a small child.
“She did what she thought was best.”
And he had hated her for it.
Tyler heard the slow chugs of the engine and the screech of brakes as the train pulled to a stop. In a matter of minutes, the passengers would board and the train would depart.
“I only hope you can forgive me one day and believe that I never stopped loving you,” Lulu had written.
With a racing heart, Tyler pulled up to the station and jumped down from the buggy. Quickly winding the reins around the hitching rail, he ran through the small wooden building and dashed out onto the platform. Coming to a quick stop, he looked around at the people milling about and spotted Lulu climbing the steps into a passenger car. In one hand she held her worn satchel. The other hand clasped a small pine chest to her bosom.
“Lulu!” Tyler shouted, dodging people and luggage. “Louise McCane!”
Lulu looked around in surprise. As Tyler ran toward her, she put her hand to her mouth, her face registering her disbelief.
“Mother,” he said breathlessly, coming to a stop in front of her. “Don’t go.”
After Ty left, Claire unearthed her mother’s wedding gown, and now stood in front of the tall cheval glass in her parents’ room, studying her reflection.
“Does it fit?” Emily asked eagerly.
“It fits perfectly, Em.”
“Describe it to me.”
“It’s shiny satin, the color of fresh cream, with an overskirt of ecru lace.”
“And seed pearls,” Emily added, her fingers moving deftly over the skirt of the dress.
“Yes, and there’s a lace veil that covers my face to my chin, and falls down to the hem in the back.”
“Oh, how I wish I could see you!” Emily stopped and turned her head to the window. “Someone’s coming.”
Claire ran to the window and looked out. “Emily! Tyler brought Lulu back!”
“Lulu!” Emily cried joyously, making her way as quickly as she could to the stairs.
“Wait, Em!” Claire called, struggling to get out of the dress. She couldn’t go running downstairs in her wedding dress. It wouldn’t be right for Tyler to see her. She managed to unbutton some of the tiny pearl buttons down the back, but couldn’t reach the rest. “Drat!” she said in exasperation. Below, she could hear the happy cries of Lulu and Emily. “Drat, drat, drat!” she said, fumbling with the buttons.
“Can I help?”
Claire spun around with a gasp. “Oh, Tyler, you can’t see me in this! Close your eyes!”
With a grin, he immediately scrunched them shut. “How can I help if I can’t see you?”
“Keep your eyes closed,” she commanded. She stood with her back to him. “Put out your hands and feel for the buttons.”
He did as she asked. “I brought Lulu back,” he told her.
Claire turned her head to look at him and found his eyes open. “I’m so glad.”
“So am I,” he said, adroitly freeing her from the gown.
“I’m not going to ask where you learned that skill,” she said with a scowl.
Tyler laughed, and bent to nibble the delicate nape of her neck. “I asked Lulu to stay with us,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
A delicious shiver ran down her back. “Of course I don’t mind. We’re her family.”
He turned Claire around and gazed into her eyes with the intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “You were right about forgiving. I decided that if you could forgive your mother, then I could forgive mine.”
“Did you tell her that?”
He nodded solemnly. “She got kind of weepy.”
With a laugh, Claire threw her arms around Tyler’s neck. “I love you very much.”
He leaned back to look at her, his heart overflowing with happiness. A month ago, he wouldn’t have believed her. He’d thought that genuine, unselfish love was impossible. But two women had proved him wrong. Tyler smiled down at her, still amazed at the love he saw shining in Claire’s eyes. He didn’t want it to ever go away.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
Claire tapped her finger against her lips. “Let me see -- I’m not busy Saturday.”
“It’s a date.” He bent his head and kissed her deeply, then began pressing teasing kisses down her jaw to her throat. “This isn’t easy for me, you know,” he murmured. “I’m not good at expressing my feelings. You’re going to have to help me.”
“I intend to.”
“Then I think we should start now,” Tyler said, slipping the satin gown over her shoulders.
Claire gasped as it pooled on the floor at her feet. “Tyler!”
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her shoulder. “How can I resist you?”
“You’ll just have to,” she told him on a sigh.
One hand slipped beneath her corset to gently massage a breast, until the nipple puckered and tingled. Claire felt herself weakening. She wondered if she had the patience to wait.
“Claire,” he said in her ear, his voice husky with desire. “I want to make love to you. We can lock the door. No one will bother us.”
Claire melted against him. What would it matter? They were almost married.
“Tyler? Claire?” she heard Lulu call. “Are you two up there?”
Why did Lulu always pick the most inopportune times to interrupt them? “Don’t answer,” Claire murmured, repeating the line he had used several times.
“I have to.” Tyler kissed her, then set her away with a wicked grin. “She’s my mother.”
THE END
BIOGRAPHY OF KATE COLLINS
Kate Collins is the author of the best-selling Flower Shop Mystery Series. Her books have made the New York Times Extended Bestseller list, the Barnes & Noble mass market mystery best-sellers’ lists, the Independent Booksellers’ best-seller’s lists, as well as booksellers’ lists in the U.K. and Australia. All books in the series are available in paperback as well as hardback, large print editions, both in the U.S. and the U.K. Kate has published seven historical romances, in all, as well as children’s stories now available as e-books.
When not growing roots at her computer, Kate loves to grow flowers and vegetables. Other passions include international travel, home decorating, yoga and power walking, sampling the great wines and dark chocolates of the world, mentoring her children, and enjoying every moment of life. The author lives in Northwest Indiana and Key West, Florida.
For more information, visit Kate at:
www.katecollinsbooks.com
www.facebook.com/authorkatecollins
Read Kate’s weekly blog at:
www.cozychicksblog.com
BOOKS BY KATE COLLINS
THE FLOWERSHOP MYSTERY SERIES
Mums the Word
Slay It with Flowers
Dearly Depotted
Snipped in the Bud
Acts of Violets
A Rose from the Dead
Shoots to Kill
Evil in Carnations
Sleeping with Anemone
Dirty Rotten Tendrils
Night of the Living Dandelion
To Catch a Leaf
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
(Paperbacks w/a Linda O’Brien)
Promised to a Stranger
Courting Claire
Beloved Protector
His Forbidden Touch
Ballyrourke
(w/a Linda Eberhardt)
The Lighthouse
Village Square