The Lost Daughter Of Pigeon Hollow. Inglath Cooper
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the dancing and flirting? And that kiss in the parking lot. No one had ever accused him of being the straightest arrow around, but he did have a girlfriend, and it wasn’t his style to cheat.
Still, there was no getting around the fact that he had wanted to dance with Willa tonight. That he had, without doubt, wanted to kiss her.
He had been around the block enough times to have had a lot of firsts. He’d known his share of women. But the energy between the two of them in there hadn’t felt like anything he recognized.
He ran a hand across his face. Or maybe it was just that his back was to the wall, and he was looking for an exit. Ten days to make up his mind. He glanced at his watch. Past midnight. Make that nine days.
The future had never looked less clear.
CHAPTER FOUR
ONE DINNER. One dance. It was always the little decisions that led to the big trouble.
Willa drove a few miles before letting herself glance at the letter on the passenger seat, no idea what to make of any of it.
Owen Miller had been a messenger, a delivery service. His asking her out tonight had nothing whatsoever to do with strawberries, or dancing a shade too close, or anything at all resembling romance.
Cheeks flaming, she fumbled to redo the button of her blouse with one hand.
A date. She’d thought it was a date. And he’d been nothing more than a messenger.
Tipp’s Minute Market sat just ahead on the right. Willa hit her blinker, turned in and pulled underneath a parking-lot light. She picked up the letter from the passenger seat, held it for a moment, then began to read.
Dear Willa,
I know you have no idea who I am, and most likely at this point, have no desire to. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for too many years to count.
I also know that your mother never told you about me. But I am your father, and I would very much like to meet you.
I sincerely hope you will indulge an old man’s wish and return to Lexington with Owen so that we might have a chance to talk.
Sincerely,
Charles Hartmore
It had to be a joke, and yet it didn’t read like one.
But it couldn’t possibly apply to her. Her father had died. What reason would her mother have had to lie about that?
She flung the letter aside and leaned her head against the seat, a sudden throbbing in her left temple. Crazy. No other word for it.
She put the Wagoneer in gear and pulled back onto the road, parking in the driveway of her house a few minutes later with little memory of how she’d gotten there.
Lights were on. Thank goodness. At least Katie was here. That was the last thing she needed to deal with tonight.
She stuck her key in the lock and let herself in the front door. Sam bounded into the foyer, tail wagging hard enough to send anything in its path crashing to the floor. She leaned over, rubbed his chin, then went into the kitchen and gave him a bone-shaped cookie from the treat jar. He trotted off, tail flagpole straight.
Music erupted from upstairs, throbbing through the ceiling. The kitchen light fixture rattled in complaint. A drum solo picked up the beat of Willa’s headache.
“Katie!”
No answer. No surprise. She climbed the squeaky pine steps to her sister’s room, knocking at the closed door. When she got no response, she opened it and stuck her head inside.
Katie had her back turned. She yanked clothes from drawers, tossing them into the suitcases on her bed.
Willa put a hand to her chest, stepped into the room. “Katie.”
Her sister whirled then, the surprise on her pretty face quickly replaced by irritation. “Can’t you knock?”
“I did.” Willa’s voice was little more than a whisper.
Katie reached over and lowered the volume on the boom box quaking on her nightstand. “What?”
“I said I did. What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“I can see that.”
Katie dropped a handful of thong underwear into the closest suitcase, not meeting Willa’s eyes. “Yeah, don’t you think it’s time we admitted this isn’t working?”
“Katie,” Willa said, throwing up her hands. “You’re sixteen. Where are you going?”
“Eddie said I can stay with him. He’s got a place with some friends.”
Willa sank down onto the bed, palms on her knees. “Don’t do this, Katie.”
Katie looked up then, her face blanked of emotion. “I’m not like you, Willa. All you care about is doing the right thing. But we have different definitions of what that is, and I’m not ever going to be like you.”
Defiance underscored each word, and Willa’s heart wilted beneath the blow. “No one’s ever asked you to, Katie. I just want you to give yourself a fair shot.”
“Maybe this is the shot I want. Eddie’s not so bad.”
Willa pressed her lips together, certain that anything negative she said against Eddie would only push Katie out the door that much faster. “Don’t you think we should talk about this?”
Katie opened a drawer, scooped up an armful of T-shirts, and hurled them at a suitcase. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m quitting school.”
Willa put one hand to the back of her neck. “Oh, Katie, no.”
“You quit! Why is it such a crime if I do the same thing?”
“I left my last semester of college. Don’t you think that’s a little different?”
“Is it? Sometimes I wonder if you really wanted to stay here or if it was just a good place to lock yourself up.”
Willa pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose where a sudden pain had set up. “My coming back had nothing to do with that,” she said in a calm voice.
Katie reached for another shirt, tossed it in the suitcase. “You’re sure about that?”
Frustration at her sister, for her sister, churned inside her. “This isn’t about me, Katie! It’s about you. I know this may seem like what you want right now. But believe me, one day you’re going to wake up and wish you’d taken a different path.”
“You’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”
Willa flinched, the question hitting its intended mark. “I don’t regret what I’ve done.”
“But then we’re not all saints.” Katie propped her fists on her hips, her blue eyes narrowed. “I mean what about all those dreams you had? Don’t you ever wonder what kind of doctor you would have made?”
Willa wrapped her arms around her waist, anger a sudden weight on her chest. It wasn’t often that she let Katie get to her, but tonight her defenses were down. “What do you think I should have done, Katie? Left you to foster care? Pretended you weren’t my sister?”
Katie glared at her. “Yeah, maybe so. Then at least one of us would have had a chance to be happy.”
Hurt flared inside her, spread like liquid fire. There didn’t seem to be anything she could say to soften Katie’s resentment. And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? That Katie was the one harboring all the regret?
Suddenly, Willa couldn’t talk about this anymore. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, are you?”
Katie stubbed a sneakered toe against the worn rug beside her bed and shoved