A Haunted Twist of Fate (25 page)

Dawn jiggled her arm to bring her back to reality.  “Did
you hear what I said?” she asked. “I’m scared.”

Shay smiled. “You’ve got yourself a good man in
Brady. His parents seem to have done a good job raising him, so I think he’ll
make a fine dad. The two of you can figure things out together. And I wouldn’t
worry about the baby weight,” she added. “Your body is going to change, but
you’ll change with it. I’ve never been pregnant, but I’m positive the love for
your child will grow along with your belly.”

She slipped out of her chair and knelt to become at
eye level with Dawn and wiped the tears from her cheek, like a mother or sister
would. “When your baby’s born, you’ll hold him or her in your arms, and your
life will be different from that moment on. You’ll be a family, you and Brady
and your baby. You’ll look into your baby’s eyes, and the instinct to protect
and care for him will be as natural as breathing. The love you’ll feel will be
like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. That love is what will make you a
wonderful mother.”

Dawn’s lips curved into a weak smile. “You really
think I’ll be a good mother? I don’t know anything about mothering. My own mama
wasn’t much of one.”

Shay placed her hand on Dawn’s arm, realizing this
was her true fear. “Hannah’s a good woman. If you ask, I know you’ll be able to
count on her for help.”

After some contemplation, Dawn scooted back from the
table and stood. “You think? I wasn’t sure Miss Hannah even liked me much.”

“Of course she does. I know she’s looking forward to
being a grandma. You might want to get to know her better. This baby can bring
you two closer.”

“What about you?” Dawn asked. “Will you help me,
too? You seem to know a lot about babies.”

Dawn seemed like a good kid. She just needed the
right guidance in making that giant leap from carefree girl to responsible
adult. Shay could be her friend, even if she wasn’t involved with Colt or his
family.

“Yes,” she answered with sincerity. “I’m not going
anywhere. I’ll be here for you if you need me.” She walked Dawn to the door.

“Thank you, Shay. You made me feel a whole lot
better.” Dawn gave her a big hug and then waved goodbye. “Maybe I’ll see you
later.”

Shay returned the wave and closed the door. She’d
heard her cell phone ring as Dawn was leaving, so she jogged upstairs and saw
that she had a voice message from Colt. They’d kissed goodnight last night, and
he’d told her he’d help gather more information about Alicia Averill, but
nothing had been resolved as to whether they were going to pursue a real
relationship or not.

When she called him back, it went straight to his
voice mail. She left a message. “Looks like we’re playing phone tag. It’s your
turn.”

She rinsed the coffee pot while thinking about the
things she’d told Dawn about having a baby and raising a child. She herself had
been lucky, having been blessed with loving parents. They’d instilled in her
good values and self-worth, and given her the building blocks for one day being
a successful mother. But she feared the lies and injustice she’d suffered at
the hands of both Gary and Tom might have jaded her. A woman couldn’t be a wife
if she didn’t trust her husband.

Her stomach flipped when she considered the
possibility of sharing a life with Colt. He’d told her he’d fallen in love, but
where did marriage and family fit into that? Did he want children? She’d never
want to have to talk a man into having kids. And she certainly had no intention
of pushing a man into marriage.

Shay sighed. He’d already told her he wanted nothing
permanent. Permanent, to her, meant forever—a marriage, a home, and eventually
a family. If they couldn’t even agree on the kind of relationship each wanted,
it was doomed before it had barely begun.

Forty

Colt and Shay finally caught up with each other on
the phone later in the day. He sat in his truck outside the Buckhorn now
watching the sun melt behind the hills, preparing himself to break the news to
her.

Terry McGinty had phoned him back in the early
afternoon. After processing the information given to him by the detective via
his aunt, Colt had called Shay and asked if he could come over tonight. She’d hesitantly
agreed. He hadn’t mentioned why, and she hadn’t asked.

They hadn’t talked much last night, like he’d hoped.
She’d apologized for blowing him off, but she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings
in words. Maybe she’d been hurt so badly in the past that she couldn’t recover.
Hearing she’d been engaged twice had given him second thoughts and added to his
confusion. Maybe she wasn’t the marrying kind after all. Or maybe she simply
wasn’t interested in marrying
him
. If that were the case, he’d turn her
loose and move on. After all, he wasn’t getting any younger. There were other fish
in the sea, if he wanted to fish.

Hell
. He didn’t
really mean that. Something implied Shay could be the real thing, but how had
she managed to come close to the altar with not one, but two, other men? That
didn’t bode well for him. She’d mentioned betrayal, but perhaps she’d been more
to blame than she wanted to admit.

Despite the mixed-up way he felt, he thought it his
obligation as a friend to tell her what he’d found out. He slammed the truck
door shut and sauntered to the saloon. She opened the front door before he’d
even knocked, and his heart jumped in his chest, the way it always did when he
saw her. It didn’t matter whether she was dressed in a sexy outfit or in casual
jeans and a t-shirt, like she was now. Every time he laid eyes on her, he wanted
to plant a big kiss on her. Tantalizing smells drifted out from the kitchen,
and he noticed she had on quilted oven mitts.

“Something smells good.”

“It’s a casserole my mom used to make. Have you
eaten yet? You can join me, if you’re hungry.”

“Well…”

“Come on in. Take a load off.” She escorted him to
the bar and then entered the kitchen, squeaked open the oven door, and returned
carrying the hot dish. A bowl of salad was already on the counter.  She set two
plates down. “Do you want a beer?”

He scooted his stool up to the bar and was suddenly
famished.  A little surprised at her light and welcoming mood, he was equally pleased
that she appeared happy. “Think I’ll have iced tea tonight, if you have it.”

When she sat two glasses and the tea pitcher on the
bar, he filled their glasses and they began to eat.

“Thanks for supper. It’s delicious.”

“I appreciate the compliment. I like to cook. My mom
taught me. After being on the road for so long, I’m glad to be getting back to
it.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Colt said,
“You’re probably wondering why I wanted to see you.”

She smiled. “I knew you’d tell me when you were
ready.”

There was no point in wasting time with small talk. He
sat down his fork and looked her in the eye. “I called the Chicago police
department today to speak to Chief McGinty. I wanted to see if he could fill in
some of the loose holes regarding Frank’s daughter.”

The disappointment in her face was understated, but
not lost on him. Apparently she thought he’d come over to discuss something
else.

“Did you speak to him?” she asked, noticeably
distracted.

“No. He died ten years back. But his nephew, Terry,
is a detective and we had an interesting conversation.”

“What did he say?”

Colt’s throat felt raw. He took a long swig of tea
and then filled her in on their discussion, up to the part that had to do with
the mysterious good citizens who’d paid for Alicia’s funeral.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Shay urged. She’d pushed
her plate back and leaned toward him, now rapt with attention. “What did
McGinty’s widow tell her nephew about them?”

Colt exhaled deeply. “Their names were Alex and
Grace Brennan.” He watched her face pale and placed his hand over hers. “Were
Alex and Grace your parents, Shay?”

“Yes, but, I don’t understand. Are you saying my
parents were the anonymous patrons all those years? They’re the ones who
arranged funerals for people who were homeless or alone in the world? Including
Alicia Averill? Even though she had a family?” she added quickly.

“Yes. According to the chief’s widow, they’ve done
that sort of thing for over thirty years. Terry McGinty told me his aunt was
certain of their identity because your dad and her husband had been friends.
They’d known each other since they were boys in school together.”

Shay shook her head. “How could that be? I’ve never
heard of Trevor McGinty until today when we read the letter from him to Frank. Maybe
the woman was mistaken about the friendship. Or the name.”

“Maybe,” Colt said, knowing there was no mistake. He
could see in Shay’s expression that she had doubts about the information.

“I can understand my mom and dad doing that sort of
thing—paying for someone’s funeral who couldn’t afford it. They gave to several
charities and donated money to the hospital, library, and other non-profit
organizations. But why would they keep that a secret from me? That would be a
service to be proud of.”

Colt wanted to assure her there was probably nothing
surreptitious about what her parents had done. “Giving to charities is one
thing,” he suggested, “but picking out headstones and paying for funerals…well,
that’s very personal. I can see why they wouldn’t have wanted to advertise
their involvement. Although their generosity was commendable, they probably
wanted to keep their actions quiet to avoid embarrassment for anyone, just in
case a family member or friend stepped forward later. Like Frank and Bonnie. Besides,
maybe they thought it wasn’t classy to toot their own horn.”

She nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right.  But
it’s still a very strange coincidence that my parents were connected to Alicia
Averill in 1977. Now, here I am in South Dakota, discussing details of Alicia’s
life with her father.”

That was the part that bothered Colt, too, but he
refrained from expressing his thoughts out loud.

Shay was quiet while they finished their meal. He
knew she probably had more questions, and he wished he had answers for her that
made sense. There were none at the moment, but he had a feeling they’d only
touched the surface.

“Who was the one person closest to your parents?” he
asked, helping her clear the bar once they’d ended the meal.

“That would be their attorney, Lee Stansbury. He and
Dad were college roommates. He handled all their business and personal affairs
from the time they were married.”

“You know this guy, right?”

“Of course I do. Lee is my godfather.”

“Great. Tomorrow, you’re going to call your
godfather and ask him to fill you in on Alicia Averill. If you have to, play
the sympathy card. He won’t hold out on his goddaughter, will he?”

She didn’t know. “What kinds of questions should I
ask?”

“Whatever will get him to tell you the truth about
whether your folks knew Alicia, or if this is all just a big twist of fate.”

Although it was obvious that Shay desperately tried to
remain calm, cool and collected, Colt could tell the news came as a terrible
shock. He wanted to reach out and hug her, but it didn’t see appropriate. She
might think he was taking advantage of her in a moment of weakness. If she
wanted comfort, she would ask for it—but she didn’t. Actions spoke louder than
words, his mama had taught him.

“I’d better be going,” he said, walking toward the
door and realizing there was no reason to hang around if she didn’t want him
there. “Thanks again for supper.”

“Sure.” Her earlier cheerful mood had gone south.

Damn
. He hated to
see her sad. “Call me if you want, after you’ve spoken to the lawyer. I’ll be
interested in hearing what he has to say.”

That seemed to perk her up a bit. “Okay. Thanks for
making the call to Chicago today. I appreciate your help.”

“No problem. I said I would. Goodnight, Shay.”

Her face fell again. “Goodnight.”

As he strolled to his truck parked at the curb, he
felt her hot gaze on his back. Turning around would only strengthen his desire
to kiss her confusion away. And kissing her again was not a good idea. There
were only so many cold showers a man could take.

As he jerked open the truck door, a movement caught
in the corner of his eye. Glancing up at Shay’s window, he thought he saw a
shimmer of white play across the glass.  Then he realized it must have been the
streetlight reflecting off the windowpane. Just like before.

Colt climbed into the truck, wishing he’d never
brought Shay the news about her parents. He should have minded his own
business. What if she couldn’t handle more secrets, particularly when those
secrets involved her own family?

Forty-One

It was after nine when Shay rose the next morning.
For the first time in a long time, she’d cried herself to sleep last night. Now
her eyes were puffy and red, and she felt physically drained.