Dreaming on Daisies (16 page)

“That’s not true, and you know it.” The words dropped and hit the air, sizzling like drops of water on a branding iron. “You left us without even saying good-bye. I cried for weeks, worrying if you were safe and wondering where you’d gone. And how can you say that about Ma? Pa was heartbroken when she died.”

The anger ebbed from Tom’s face, but confusion flashed in his eyes. His gaze shifted away from Leah, then swung back. “I left a note. I didn’t want you to fret over me.”

She frowned. “That can’t be right. Pa said there was nothing—that he had no idea where you went. He knew I was sick with fear. He wouldn’t have lied when he knew the truth would’ve set my mind at ease.”

Tom’s eyes turned cold, cynical. “So he lied about that too. First he tells you Ma died. Then he doesn’t tell you I left a note. Doesn’t that make you wonder, Leah?”

Steven looked from brother to sister. “I think I’ll excuse myself now. This is a family discussion, and I don’t have any part in it. Good to meet you, Tom. I’ll probably see you again soon, if you plan to stay.” He jerked his head toward the bunkhouse. “I live here and help out in my spare time.”

Tom held up his hand. “Wait. You might as well hear the truth right now, so you’ll understand the kind of man your boss is.” He barked out a sharp laugh before returning his attention to Leah.

Leah stared at her brother, and the back of her neck prickled. She couldn’t get a grip on what was wrong. The look on Tom’s face left her unsettled, not to mention his strange words. This wasn’t the little brother she used to play tag with and race across the fields on their horses.

The man standing before her was a stranger. Why should she ask him anything about their mother? And what utter nonsense to say Pa lied when he told her Ma passed away! She died when Tom was twelve and Leah, fourteen—three years before her brother ran away—so there was nothing to tell.

Leah took a step back and almost bumped into Steven. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezed, then released her and stood close by.

She kept her attention on her brother. “Why would you come back if you despised it so much?”

Tom didn’t waver. His gaze remained firm on hers. “I told you I came home because of Ma. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’m talking about?”

Leah rubbed her arms, wanting to ease the chill of what she sensed might be coming. Tom had returned, and it should be a time of rejoicing, but instead he stood there like a block of granite.

She met her brother’s eyes. “Ma’s been gone a long time. I don’t see why you’d say you came back because of her. Unless you want to honor her memory by reconciling with your family.”

Tom snorted. “Now that’s plumb funny, Sis. So Pa must have kept up the lies all these years.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at. All these ugly things you’re saying about Pa … I’ve heard enough.” She reached out toward him. “Let’s go to the house and see Pa, Millie, and Buddy, all right? Why can’t you be happy you’re home? There’s no need to dig up the past. It can only bring sorrow.”

He stared at her. “You still don’t get it, do you? Why do you keep sticking up for Pa? He’s no good, Leah. He drove Ma off and caused her death.”

Leah felt as though her heart were stuck in her throat. Pa didn’t cause her mother’s death. Fear swirled inside, warring with the confusion, and dread followed close on their heels.

She couldn’t listen to these lies any longer … wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t fair to Pa. “Has living on your own for so long addled your brain? Ma died from a fever. Pa sent us to town to stay with friends when she took sick. I know you were only twelve, but surely you remember.”

“Ha. You bet I do—that and a lot more.” He shook his head from side to side in a slow, ponderous motion. “You never once wondered why she didn’t have a funeral?”

Leah shrugged. “I asked Pa, and he said she didn’t want one. That she asked him to lay her to rest in the big meadow behind the house and not make a fuss. She didn’t want us children put through any more of an ordeal.”

He laughed, but it came out hollow and lost. “I guess you wanted to believe that, but I knew the truth. Ma didn’t die, Leah. She ran off and left Pa. She hated her life here, and she couldn’t tolerate being married to him—or living here—another day.”

Leah could only stare. She felt as though she’d been tossed into the air by the bull, then trampled. But even that kind of pain didn’t cut as deep as Tom’s words. This couldn’t be true.

“You’re lying.” Her words cut like a knife honed to a fine edge. “I’m not going to listen to any more of this hateful talk.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Did you come home so you could stir up trouble and turn our family against one another? If that’s the case, you can return to wherever you’ve been living.”

Tom’s face reddened, and he took a step toward her.

Leah felt Steven move forward to stand beside her. Gratitude enveloped her like a warm blanket, but an icy calm shoved the warmth aside. Steven’s solid strength was comforting, but no amount of wishing for someone to rescue her would change what Tom said.

She stood and stared at her brother, disappointment churning her gut. Surely Tom would never be a threat to her physically, but there was no way she’d allow him to repeat those hideous words where her father could hear them. “So? What will it be?”

Tom glanced at Steven, then allowed his gaze to settle on her. “I’m not hiding behind a lie any longer. I did that for the three years before I left, and that was enough.”

A shiver raced down Leah’s back. “What lie? You know as well as I do that Ma is dead.”

His eyes didn’t soften. “She was very much alive when she left this ranch nine years ago.”

Leah’s stomach clenched to the point she thought she might be ill. She peered at Steven. What must he be thinking? More than likely, he wished he’d never moved to the ranch or met her family. She squared her shoulders—no more weakness or game playing. She glared at her brother. “You can’t know anything about Ma. You disappeared and never came home. And if all of this were true, why wouldn’t Pa have told me?”

Tom sneered. “Pa’s pride has always been one of his biggest problems, other than the drinking and surly personality. But I’ll admit that mostly got worse after Ma left. Sure, maybe Pa acts that way due to Ma leaving him, but he needs to get over it.”

His mouth twisted. “Can you really see him admitting his wife deserted him? You asked how I know about Ma. Before she left, she told me what she was going to do. She gave me the choice of coming with her right then, and I almost did. I wish now I hadn’t stayed here and wasted three years.”

Leah’s legs shook, and she swayed. Ma had been alive all these years? It couldn’t be true. She refused to believe her mother would leave her behind. Her mother had loved her … she’d proved it in so many ways before her death.

They’d picnicked together in a secluded place in the meadow where the daisies grew in wide clusters. Ma made daisy chains as garlands and placed them on Leah’s head. They’d shared whispers and giggles and stories galore—secrets and precious things hidden where no one else would ever think to look. Leah had not returned to their special place since Ma died, never gone to their hidey-hole and uncovered their private box. She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms.

But Tom said Ma hadn’t died. She stared at her brother. “If Ma didn’t die, where has she been all these years? Why would she leave without letting me know?”

He turned his head, but not before she saw a glint of sadness darken his eyes.

Her own pulse pounded. Ma had come to Tom and offered to take him away with her, but she hadn’t so much as left Leah a note or kissed her good-bye? Why would Ma desert her own daughter?

A sense of desolation, deeper than any canyon she’d ever stared into, threatened to topple her. If Tom’s claim was true, her mother had abandoned her without so much as a word. And nine years had passed without even a letter. Why? How could she do that to her own child?

Steven steadied her with a firm hand. “Why don’t you sit on the porch?” He indicated one of the chairs.

She gazed up into his warm eyes and slowly shook her head. “Thank you. I’m fine now. A little dizzy for a moment, but it passed.”

He gave a reluctant nod and released his gentle grip.

A cloud of loneliness swept over Leah. If only she could cling to Steven and draw on his quiet strength. Funny she hadn’t seen him as strong until today, when she felt so weak.

She rounded on Tom as fury built, burning in her belly. “I don’t believe you. Ma wouldn’t have left without telling me. She would have asked me to go with her too. Ma wouldn’t have left me here, alone”—she gestured toward the ranch house—“with him.” What kind of woman would leave a fourteen-year-old girl with a man who wasn’t even her natural father?

Guilt pricked at her thoughts. Pa had been the only father she’d ever known, since her own had died not long after she was born. But if Ma left the ranch out of anger or disgust with her own husband, why would she leave her defenseless daughter with the man? She gave a sharp shake of her head. It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

Tom’s firm mouth softened. “She knew you’d never want to leave the ranch. Ma knew how much you loved it here, and she didn’t want to take that from you.” His eyes darted away. “I can’t tell you more. Ma refused to talk about it much.”

Leah shook her head, still not able to fully comprehend the awful truth. Her mother had abandoned her. Willingly. Knowingly. Without so much as a backward glance. She swung her attention to her brother, suddenly certain he wasn’t telling the full truth. What was he hiding? He’d never been able to tell a lie while looking her square in the eyes. “And why would she do that? What else are you hiding?”

Her brother shot a malevolent look at the house. “You weren’t that young when Ma left. You should remember the fights between her and Pa, and how unhappy she was living here.”

“No, I don’t. Ma loved the ranch, the same as me.”

“You’re fooling yourself, Leah. That might be what you want to remember, but it’s not true. Ma hated living in the country. She was raised in a city and begged to move, but Pa wouldn’t have it.” His lip curled. “All he cared about was this ranch. It meant more to him than any of us, and it still does.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, hating what she was hearing. Ma hadn’t hated it here; she was sure of it. A vague memory of raised voices and Ma’s face streaked with tears intruded on her thoughts, but she pushed it away. “How do you know? You can’t convince me Ma revealed her deepest emotions to a twelve-year-old boy before she deserted her family.”

“She didn’t tell me then, but I learned it bit by bit over the past few years.”

“What do you mean?” Leah hadn’t thought Tom could tell her anything that would hurt her worse than what he’d already shared, but she cringed at what she sensed coming.

“I’ve been living with Ma for the past six years. Right before I left the ranch, I wrote to her that I was leaving.”

“You wrote to her?” The words felt like heavy mud on her tongue, and she barely pushed them out into the air. “You knew her address for three years and didn’t tell me? Why would you keep it a secret?”

Tom shook his head but again didn’t meet her eyes. “Before she left she said she was moving to Portland—back to where she lived when she was a girl. I sent a letter general delivery and told her I’d be arriving in a few weeks.”

“So is she coming back after all this time? Is that why you came, to prepare me and Pa for her arrival?” Leah stiffened. “I don’t know if I want to see her, even if she’s at a hotel in town right now.”

Her brother stared at her for several long moments. “I told you, Leah, Ma’s dead. She passed away not long before Christmas. That’s one of the reasons I came back.”

Leah blinked, unable to comprehend the import of his words. Dead? But Tom said he’d been living with her all these years. Ma left her alone on the ranch with a father who turned into a drunk. She never wrote or tried to contact her before she died.

Pain pierced Leah’s heart, as deep and dark as a mine shaft cut all the way to cold bedrock. She’d already lost her mother once, nine years ago—only to discover now that her mother hadn’t wanted her. Why would God force her to endure her mother’s death all over again now? He could have stopped her from leaving, could have made Ma stay and care for her.