When she came back to her senses again, Wyatt was propped up on an elbow and staring into her eyes. “What did you say at the door, Harper?”
“I’m sorry about your friend,” she said.
“No, that wasn’t it. You said we were both in pain and for me to come on in, but before that you said something about our daughter. Were you dreaming or just drunk?”
“All of the above,” Harper answered.
“You had a baby?”
“I did. A little girl that I gave away.”
“Why?” Wyatt asked.
“Because my mother said I couldn’t come home if I didn’t, and then I got to thinkin’ about what a horrible mother I would be. I was only sixteen and you were just a kid, too, and it didn’t seem fair to her to . . .” She stopped to catch her breath and then realized she was out of words.
“It was my baby, right?” Wyatt asked.
She nodded.
“And you didn’t even tell me?”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
“We were sixteen, for God’s sake, Wyatt. Were you goin’ to slap on your shinin’ armor and marry me? We weren’t old enough to do that, probably not even with parental consent. I chose her adopted parents carefully. I’m sure she’s been in a good home, but today is her birthday and the guilt trip is . . .” A fresh batch of tears rushed down her cheeks like a river, dripping onto his shirt this time. “The family offered to send pictures to me or even to let me see her, like on her birthday, or be a part of her life, but I couldn’t, Wyatt. I just couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her and then having to say goodbye.”
“I’m so sorry.” Wyatt’s voice cracked. He held her so close that their tears mingled together. “I don’t know what I would have done. Probably freaked out, but I had a wonderful grandpa who would have helped if he’d known.”
“Mother said Granny Annie would hate me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I didn’t even tell her.” Harper bounced off the bed and barely made it to the toilet before the Jack Daniel’s came back up.
Wyatt followed her and held her long blonde hair back, then washed her face with a wet cloth. “It’s okay, darlin’. You’ve got every right to drink. Let me hold you and ease the pain.”
“She was your daughter, too, Wyatt. Why in the hell aren’t you mad at me?” Harper bent over the toilet and dry heaved.
“I’m numb,” he said.
“When that goes away, you’ll be angry and hate me.” She tried to stand, but her knees were weak.
He slipped an arm under her knees and one around her shoulders and carried her back to the bed. “I’m stayin’ with you tonight. We’ll mourn together.”
“She’s not dead. She’s happy and riding a pony that her parents gave her for her ninth birthday,” Harper argued.
“I’m sure that they are good parents.” He wrapped her up in his arms and held her tightly. “But we don’t get to buy her that pony or take her fishin’ or sing songs to her or read books to her before she goes to sleep, so we’re goin’ to mourn that.”
“You don’t hate me?” she asked.
“You were only thinkin’ of me and of her, so how could I be mad at you, darlin’?” He brushed her hair away from her eyes, his fingertips feeling like a feather on her skin.
“Some first date, huh?” she whispered. “Your friend passed away, and I unloaded all this on you.”
“I’m here and I’m with you. We’ll get through this together.”
“Her name is Emma Joanna. They let me pick her middle name.”
“That’s beautiful.” Wyatt held her even closer. “Shut your eyes, darlin’, and let this day pass on. I’m not going anywhere, and everything will be better when morning arrives.”
For now, she thought. But she’d take that much right then. She snuggled in so close to him that light couldn’t find its way between them, and in that moment some of the pain and guilt finally floated away.
Zed poured two glasses of blackberry wine and carried them across the floor to the recliners. He sniffed the air as he set them on the table between the chairs. “You’re fading, Annie. I don’t see you in the chair as clear as I did here at first, and your perfume is getting so faint I have to imagine it. I can’t have that happenin’.”
He padded barefoot across to the bed behind the chairs, opened the drawer in the bedside table, and took out a small bottle of perfume that he’d intended to give her for her next birthday. Giving it a quick spray toward the chair, he inhaled deeply. “There you are. I feel like you’re in the room again now. I got to have your spirit with me tonight, Annie, so I can tell you about today. I know what happened that summer with Harper.”
One glass of wine later, he’d finished telling the whole story about how broken Harper was. “I just felt my heart breakin’ for that child, Annie, and I could almost feel your tears dripping on my shoulder. Bless her heart, what are we goin’ to do to help her get through this?”
He wrapped his veined hand around the other glass and brought it to his lips. “Oh, so you think I’m handlin’ it okay, do you? Well, darlin’, I’m feelin’ like I need more time than I’ve got left to get them all straightened out.”
He popped the footrest up on his recliner. “Maybe I can at least get them to open their hearts to each other, but Annie, I’m gettin’ tired and weary of this old earth. I really want to go on home with you, so if you could just help me out with all this, I’d sure appreciate it. Don’t fuss at me. I promised I’d see to it that they became a family, and I’ll do my best.”
He finished off the second glass of wine, reached across the table, laid his hand on Annie’s chair, and inhaled deeply. “Oh, Annie, life ain’t worth a damn without you beside me.”
CHAPTER TEN
If it can go wrong, it will. If it can’t, it might anyway. That was one of Granny Annie’s sayings, and that Saturday morning started out with everything that could go wrong. Dana’s alarm didn’t go off, so she had to rush to the store to open up, only to find half a dozen customers waiting to buy bait and picnic supplies.
After the rush, she was out of live bait, and the minnow man didn’t arrive until ten o’clock or sometimes even later. Thank goodness the last customer wanted to buy snacks for a picnic and gas for their boat instead of bait. When the store was empty of customers, she made two pots of coffee, one regular and one decaf, and ran a quick dust mop around the floor.
The bell above the door rang, and she looked over the top of the potato chip shelf to see Brook with a takeout box in her hands. “I hope that’s for me.”
“Uncle Zed said to bring it over on my way to the laundry this morning,” Brook told her. “Aunt Harper isn’t in the café yet. You think she’s still sick? Maybe I ought to help out in the kitchen today.”
As if summoned, Harper pushed her way into the store. “I need a bottle of aspirin and a banana.”
Dana tossed a bottle toward her. “Fruit is on the counter. Hungover?”
She caught it midair. “Little bit. How about that cleaner stuff that Flora uses?”
Brook rounded the end of the display shelving. “I can get you some of that out in the laundry. Should I bring it to the café or to your cabin?”