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Cursing under his breath, Chief Knight dropped the bouquet, grabbed her upper arms and helped her to a stone bench under a nearby tree.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Their eyes met and she wished they hadn’t. Although he’d kept her from falling, his eyes reflected none of the concern of his actions. Moving to assist her had been instinctive and definitely not something he’d done out of care for her. The pure hatred in his eyes drove that point home.
He leaned in close so she alone could hear his words. Close enough for her to notice the gray flecks in his otherwise black eyes. “Don’t say that to me ever again. Your regret, even if I was foolish enough to believe it was sincere, changes nothing. Understand?”
He released her arms and quickly moved away. She nodded, choking back another apology. He was right. Words didn’t have the power to change the past. Nothing did.
“Who are you?” The little girl had followed them and now she was mere inches away, a curious expression on her pretty brown face. Dressed in a bright yellow sundress with matching hair ribbons on her two thick braids, she looked like an angel. Her gaze darted between Carmen and her father, who stood there fuming, clearly trying to control his anger.
“My name is Carmen. Carmen Shields.”
The child edged closer. She looked over her shoulder at her mother’s grave and then back to Carmen. “Did you know my mommy?”
“No,” Carmen admitted, her discomfort growing. Coming here was a mistake. She was intruding on a private family moment. She should have thought this through instead of reverting to her old impulsive behavior.
“Robyn, go wait with your sister.”
“Okay, Daddy.” The little girl took a step and stopped. She turned back to Carmen and smiled wistfully. “Mommy was special. Everybody loved her. She loved us a lot,” the girl added, before she joined her sister by the grave.
Carmen had the feeling the child had heard these words so often over the years that they fell from her lips automatically. She was probably too young to have any memories of being loved by her mother. Carmen’s regret turned to a rock of shame that settled in her stomach.
Carmen straightened her jacket, doing her best to avoid Chief Knight’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
She wanted to get away from him as fast as she could. She rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to wipe away the odd tingling sensation his touch left behind.
He stepped in front of her, blocking her path to freedom. “You never answered my question. What are you doing at my wife’s grave?”
Carmen shook her head without answering. How could she explain that she’d been drawn there? Or her need to apologize to someone who wouldn’t hear anything she said? Did words even exist to explain the vow she’d made to the other woman? She didn’t think so. Stepping around him, she hurried away.
* * *
Trent watched as Carmen weaved her way through the cemetery, carefully stepping around vases of flowers, framed pictures and other items leaning against the gravestones.
“Why was that lady here, Daddy?” Robyn asked, slipping her small hand into his and swinging their arms back and forth.
Trent shook off his anger and smiled at his younger daughter. Robyn had inherited Anna’s sunny disposition. To her, there was no such thing as a stranger, only a friend she hadn’t yet met.
“I don’t know.”
“Who was she?”
He hoped Robyn’s persistence wasn’t a sign she’d picked up on his hostility and in her youthful way was trying to figure it out.
“I know who she was,” Alyssa said.
His older daughter barely spoke to him these days unless he asked her a direct question. And then her answers were curt, as if she were rationing her words. Since her conversation was at such a premium, Trent was generally glad to hear whatever she had to say. This time, though, his heart was filled with dread. He didn’t want to talk about the night Anna died.
“You do?” How had Alyssa recognized Carmen Shields? She’d been only seven when Anna died.
“Yes.” Alyssa didn’t elaborate. Instead, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. When she turned thirteen, she’d insisted she needed to have her hair relaxed so she could stop wearing ponytails like a kid.
“Who is she?” Robyn asked again, hopping from one foot to the other when it looked like Alyssa wasn’t going to elaborate.
Alyssa focused her gaze on her sister, effectively excluding him from the conversation. “She’s one of Mrs. Shields’s relatives. You know, the lady who always brought cookies and cakes to the youth center.”
“She was nice. She always gave me an extra cookie,” Robyn said. Her eyes stopped dancing and turned solemn. “She died.”
“I know,” Trent said, feeling unwanted sympathy for Carmen Shields and her family. Rachel Shields had been a kind woman. Days after Anna’s funeral, Mrs. Shields had come to the police station and apologized for the role her daughter played in his wife’s death. He’d walked away before she could finish speaking.
She hadn’t held his behavior against him. He later discovered that she’d organized the women of her church to cook meals for his family. For eight weeks, a complete dinner had been delivered to his house promptly at five o’clock every evening. She’d also been the catalyst behind the ladies who’d shown up every Saturday to clean his house and do the laundry. As a single father of a one-year-old and a seven-year-old, he’d appreciated it.
How could a wonderful woman like Rachel Shields have raised such a thoughtless and reckless child as Carmen? Determined not to give the woman another thought, he turned to his girls.
“Come on. Let’s put down Mom’s gifts.”
All discussion of Carmen was set aside as Trent and his daughters focused their attention on Anna’s grave. The grass was neatly trimmed and Trent had scrubbed the headstone just days earlier. Robyn leaned the picture she’d drawn against her mother’s name engraved on the granite, while Alyssa tied the string holding the balloon to a heavy rock and then set it on the gravestone. If Anna had lived, she’d be thirty-eight years old today. She’d died much too young.
Trent did everything in his power to keep Anna’s memory alive for his daughters, but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. Alyssa had been young when Anna died, but she had some memories of her mother. Robyn had been only a baby and had no true memories of her own. He constantly reminded both that their mother had loved them, but lately he was starting to believe that wasn’t enough.
As Anna lay dying in his arms, she’d made him promise to find a loving stepmother for their children. It was the only promise he’d ever made to her that he didn’t keep. He couldn’t. He had buried his heart with her. There was nothing left to give another woman.
Chapter Four (#ulink_f9e2868f-a625-5ed5-924c-bd5af12c2499)
“Remember, you can call me anytime,” Carmen said, then recited her cell phone number. After a moment of listening to dead air, she hung up. She’d left long, rambling messages at each of her sisters’ homes. She’d tried to leave messages on their cell phones as well, but Charlotte’s number now belonged to a bike messenger service. Charmaine’s old number belonged to a man with a hostile girlfriend who threatened to rip off Carmen’s lips if she called her boyfriend again.
Carmen sat down in a striped chair and looked around the small room, hoping something would snag her attention and divert her from the depressing thoughts that were beginning to swamp her. Although one of the smaller rooms in the bed-and-breakfast, it was comfortable. The queen sleigh bed was nestled beneath the open window. A rose-scented breeze gently blew the filmy curtains. There was a cherry desk beside the door, pink floral stationery stacked in the center.
The cozy room was perfect, and under other circumstances Carmen would have enjoyed staying there. Now it felt like the walls were closing in on her. Grabbing her suitcase, she rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a pair of white slacks and a purple knit top. She changed out of her suit, grabbed her purse and headed out.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the town while driving to the church or to the cemetery. More than a little curious to see how much Sweet Briar had changed over the years, she decided a walk would do her good.
Carmen had barely gone a block before she began to see changes. When she’d left, there’d been only a handful of businesses downtown. Of those, only Mabel’s Diner and Wilson’s Hardware Store had been thriving. Now there was a homemade candy shop, a dress store and Fit to Be Dyed, a cleverly named hair salon. There was even a pizza place. Oh, what the kids would have given to have a pizza joint to hang out in when she was a teen.
Sweet Briar was definitely prospering in this difficult economy. It took a visionary leader with a strong backbone to bring change to a community filled with people who’d been content to live in a slowly dying town. She’d read about some of the changes Mayor Devlin had made over the past year when Damon surprised her with a subscription to her hometown newspaper, but it was amazing to see it all in person.
She strolled the streets, inhaling the smog-free air. An unexpected contentment sneaked up on her and she found herself smiling. She crossed Main Street and stopped in front of a restaurant called Heaven on Earth. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything since the tea and muffin the owner of the B and B insisted she eat when she returned from the funeral. That was hours ago and she was starving.
She stepped inside and was greeted by a hostess who showed her to a table and handed her a menu. Carmen was glancing at it when the waitress appeared.
“Hi, I’m Joni and I’ll be your server.”
“Hi. What’s good?” Carmen asked, closing the menu.
“My brother, Brandon, is the chef and co-owner, so I have to tell you everything is good.”
Carmen smiled. “Is that true or just the safe answer?”
“Actually, everything is great. What kind of foods do you prefer? I’ll steer you to my favorites.”
“Well, I don’t eat beef, but I pretty much like anything else.”
“In that case, I recommend either the poached salmon fillets with watercress mayonnaise or the salmon bulgogi with bok choy and mushrooms. That’s my favorite. If you want chicken, Brandon makes a mean pan-roasted chicken with citrus sauce.”
“Everything sounds delicious. I’ll try the chicken. If it’s as good as you say, I’ll try the others before I leave town.”
As Joni promised, her meal was delicious.
When the waitress returned to take away her plate, Carmen praised the meal.
“I’ll be sure to give Brandon your compliment. I’ll have to wait until after closing because his head is so big that if he gets one more compliment it just might pop.”
Carmen grinned. Joni’s friendliness was just what she needed after the icy reception she’d received from her family.
“So what brings you to our humble town?”
“My mother’s funeral.”
Joni instantly sobered. “I’m sorry.”
Carmen swallowed. “Thanks.”
Joni studied Carmen for a minute. “Was your mother Rachel Shields?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. You resemble her. I met her when we moved here a few years back. She was a wonderful woman.”
“Thanks.”
Joni waited a bit before she spoke again, clearly giving Carmen time to get her emotions under control, which Carmen appreciated. “How long will you be in town?”
“I’m not sure. I planned on two weeks.” Carmen’s stomach instantly plummeted to her feet. What would she do if her family continued to ignore her overtures? She’d go bananas with nothing to do but brood.
“If you find yourself with time on your hands, or just need to get away from family for a while, I have the perfect suggestion for how to fill it.”
“I’m not a good waitress.”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “You’re much too nice to subject to my brother. He may cook like an angel, but he is the devil to work for.”
Joni’s words were spoken with affection and Carmen felt the slightest twinge of envy at the obvious close relationship between Joni and her brother. “What did you have in mind?”
“I was going to suggest you volunteer at the youth center. You might have passed it on the way over here. It’s that huge gray building on the corner of Maple and Oak.”
She’d noticed it.
When she’d lived here, recreation for teens had been limited to the one-screen movie theater or the beach. The beach generally won. More often than not they had been unsupervised. Too often, alcohol had been involved. She was living proof of the problems that led to.
Carmen was thrilled someone had built the youth center. She would like to help guide kids who might otherwise be tempted to stray as she had. But she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Many people had been hurt by the accident and might blame her for their loss. Chief Knight certainly did. She didn’t know if anyone else felt that way, but she wouldn’t want any misdirected negative feelings to roll onto Joni.
Carmen sighed and bit back her disappointment. “I don’t know if I should.”
“Why not?” Joni seemed sincerely perplexed. “I’m the director of the center and I’d appreciate any help you can give.”
Carmen lifted the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. “I’m Carmen Shields.”
Joni shrugged as if the name meant nothing to her.
“I was a passenger in the SUV that crashed into Chief Knight’s wife’s car seven years ago.”
“Oh.” Joni pulled out a chair and sat down.
“I don’t think he would want me to work with the kids. He’d probably consider me a bad influence, and other people might feel that way, too.” She tried to sound indifferent, but even to her own ears her pain was unmistakable.
“What happened?”
Carmen closed her eyes and sighed. The memory of that night was as vivid as though it happened yesterday. She could still hear the screams, the twisting of metal. “My friends were drunk. We were speeding and ran a stop sign, hitting another car.”
“You said you weren’t driving.”
“I wasn’t. But I should have been. I was sober.” But Donny wouldn’t give her his keys. Still, she’d hopped into the car, stupidly believing she could make him drive slowly.
Joni pondered that for a moment. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen.”
“You were young and stupid. Something all of us suffer from at one time or another.”
“That’s no excuse. Three people are dead.” The guilt she’d felt because of Donny’s and Jay’s deaths was nothing compared to knowing a perfectly innocent wife and mother had died, as well.
“I agree that’s tragic, but you weren’t driving. I don’t see how anyone could blame you.”
“Chief Knight does.” And her father blamed her for tarnishing the previously unblemished Shields name, ruining his plans for a political career. But not just that night. She’d begun pushing the boundaries of proper behavior long before then.
Joni reached across the table and clasped Carmen’s hand. “Chief Knight lost his wife. He needs someone to blame. Although why he chose you and not the driver is beyond me.”
“The driver died at the scene.” Carmen knew she may not have been legally responsible, but morally she had been wrong. “I could have tried harder to take the keys from Donny. But I’d been too busy trying to fit in. I’d finally gotten the cool kids to accept me and I wasn’t going to blow it by acting like someone’s nagging mother.”
“You can’t change the past. You can learn from it and try to make a difference today. Your past will give you credibility with the kids that no one else has.” Joni blinked. “Unless you’ll be busy with your family. You’ll only be here for a short while, so you’ll probably be spending a lot of time with them.”
“Not so much.” Unless her father had a change of heart, she’d remain the family pariah. Perhaps if he saw her doing something good, he’d realize she had changed and welcome her back into the family. And she truly did want to help. “Maybe you’re right. I’d love to work with the kids.”
“So is that a yes?”
Carmen smiled. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”
“Do you have a preference of activities?”
“I’m an artist by profession. If you have art classes or projects, I could help out.”
