Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

When it comes to frosting and decorating, a cold cake is the best cake. Pop those layers into the freezer for a while. It helps the cakes firm up so you won't get annoying crumbs sticking to your frosting. Cooling also helps with stacking. A strong, sturdy foundation is always the best kind, built to weather the worst of storms.

Addie

"She's probably at home, snuggled up in a pile of dogs and cats," Aunt Bean said from the passenger seat of the car, her tone deceptively light to hide the fact that she was sick with worry.

Henrietta sniffled from the back seat. "She's never going to forgive me."

Fog had moved in while we'd been inside the hotel. A silvery pea soup kind of fog, so thick I could barely see the roadway. As much as I wanted to speed toward the farmhouse, to reach Tessa Jane as quickly as I could, I drove painfully slowly.

"Yes she will," Bean said. "She loves you."

On Bean's lap was Tessa Jane's coat and evening bag, which contained her phone, cash, and a tube of lipstick. Unless she found a phone somewhere else, she couldn't call to tell us where she was. If she was safe.

My fingers ached but I didn't dare flex them, too afraid to loosen my grip on the steering wheel. I couldn't keep my mind from drifting to the look on Tessa Jane's face when Winchester had so callously revealed she was Bryce Buckley's biological daughter. That mix of shock, confusion, and betrayal would stay with me forever.

I just wanted to give Tessa Jane a big hug, but we needed to find her first. It had been an hour and a half since she'd run out of the ballroom.

"I didn't realize my father had figured out the truth," Henrietta said, her voice thin and reedy. "As far as I was aware, only Gavin and you knew, Verbena."

"You knew , Aunt Bean?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Of course," she said simply. "Gavin told me everything."

I turned my attention back to the road, my mind whirling. "Why didn't he tell my mama?"

"At that point in time your mama and daddy were separated but he was doing everything he could to try to save the relationship. When he learned Henrie was pregnant, he knew that if he offered to be Tessa Jane's daddy it would be the end of his marriage—unless he told Cecelia the truth: that he and Henrie were only friends."

My gaze jumped to the rearview mirror. " Only friends?"

Henrietta nodded. "We actually didn't start a dating until years later."

I opened my mouth then closed it again. This information was a lot to absorb. Almost too much.

Aunt Bean said, "Gavin wanted to tell your mama, but because she's a bit of a loose cannon, he was afraid she couldn't keep the secret. A starwalk confirmed it."

Loose cannon, I believed, was putting it mildly. "Is that why she blames the starlight for the end of her marriage?"

Bean said, "In a way. He let her believe the starlight had guided him to toward Henrie, which was the truth, of a sort. Oh my word, she let him have it and he almost gave in and told her everything. But then she went and told him she'd already filed for divorce the week before, and he realized their marriage was beyond salvageable. Then a while later, when Bryce targeted the horses, your daddy knew he'd made all the right decisions."

My head was aching. I wanted to rub my temples but didn't dare let go of the steering wheel.

Henrietta said, "Bryce was livid when he found out I was pregnant, fully believing the baby was Gavin's. He wanted revenge and took it out on innocent animals. The retaliation only affirmed why I hadn't told him he was the father. I'd have done anything— anything —to make sure Tessa Jane was raised up by people who loved her, cherished her."

I stiffened. Something she'd said rang a distant bell. I glanced in the rearview mirror again, met Henrietta's gaze. "Ree once told me that she wanted Luna to be raised by people who would love her, cherish her. It's why she asked Sawyer to pretend to be her father. Did you tell her to do that? Was she copying what you'd done?"

Henrietta sighed. "I only advised her on what I'd known others to do in her situation. I didn't tell her my story specifically. She never knew my connection to the Buckleys, but I felt a powerful need to protect her from that family. I never would've imagined how that advice would hurt you."

I fought tears, unwilling to let them fall while I was driving. I'd been hurt, yes, but not necessarily by the advice. And my pain was nothing compared to the traumatic life Luna would've had if the Buckleys had a hand in raising her.

As I slowly turned a corner, I said, "I'm grateful Ree had you to talk to. About everything."

We drove in silence for a stretch. The headlights did little to illuminate the road as fog hugged the car. I was concentrating on staying on the pavement, keenly aware of how slow I was going.

We were about a mile from the farmhouse when Henrietta said, "I can't help thinking about all the sacrifices that were made to protect Tessa Jane from the Buckleys, yet I never quite realized the danger lurking in my own family. My daddy is why we moved away, you know."

"I didn't, no," Bean said, rubbing her thumb over the clasp on Tessa Jane's evening bag.

"It was bad enough she had to hear day after day that the starlight land should be his, but it escalated to a whole other level when he started pressuring her to bake cakes every day. At eleven years old! Who does that?"

Aunt Bean shifted, looking into the back seat. "What's this now? Cake?"

"He was obsessed with Tessa Jane making cakes that tasted like yours—no, better. Back then I didn't know why he pushed and pushed her to bake, but now I have a feeling it was his way of convincing others she was a Fullbright. So no one would ever question it and put his goal of acquiring the starlight land in jeopardy." She was quiet for a moment. "That must've been it. Oh my lord, it explains so much. All the etiquette lessons, the pageant coach, everything. He was bound and determined to make sure her Buckley didn't show."

In my head, I could see Tessa Jane flashing me different kinds of smiles, and I could barely breathe. I finally found enough air to say, "Is that why Tessa Jane doesn't like to make cakes?"

"It absolutely is. When she couldn't master the flavor of your cakes, Verbena, my father belittled her. I told Tessa Jane she didn't have to bake. Mama told her, too. But she only wanted to please him, to make him happy, always hoping it would bring out some good in him. And he'd just smile—gloat, really—and tell us she enjoyed baking and to leave her be." She sighed, shook her head. "Mama didn't let him get away with it though. She put a freeze on his credit cards and told him they wouldn't be unfrozen until the baking stopped. She was never afraid to stand up to him when it mattered, or to hit him where it hurt him the most—financially. But the whole situation was like a wakeup call to me, a blaring siren I couldn't possibly ignore. I knew I had to get Tessa Jane out of that house and far away, even if it meant taking her away from my mama and from you. It about broke my heart, but I had to protect my girl."

She spoke directly to Bean because back then I'd been just one more person that Tessa Jane needed to be protected from. My heart ached with shame.

I had to remind myself that I wasn't that person anymore. All Tessa Jane would know from me now was love and acceptance for exactly who she was—and who she wasn't.

"When we did come back to town, it was for short visits to see Mama and y'all, and I did my best to shelter her from him. It's why when she spent vacations with you, I made sure my parents knew not to expect a visit. She was rarely alone with him." Her breath hitched and when she spoke again, the words came out in a tumble. "I knew he could be cold and nasty and spiteful, but I can't believe how utterly cruel he was to her tonight. How could he do such a thing to his own flesh and blood? Does he have no heart at all?"

The air in the car was thick with pain, with grief, and I could barely stand it. I started counting by twos in my head to distract myself from crying.

"I've been wondering the same thing myself," Bean said quietly.

I also recognized something Henrietta hadn't yet, because she was too worried for Tessa Jane. Winchester's cruelty extended to her as well. He'd shared something Henrietta had hidden for decades. Everyone in town was going to be gossiping during the coffee hour at church tomorrow morning. I could only hope she was ready to face the looks, the questions, the tsk s and bless her hearts headed her way.

I carefully turned in to the farmhouse's driveway, the fog so dense I couldn't see the house or even the glow of the porch lights from the street.

I slowed as we neared the big red barn, shining my high beams on its adjacent parking pad, which highlighted the fact that Tessa Jane must've been home at some point since she'd run off.

Because her car was gone.

Tessa Jane

The only thing I remembered about the drive here was that it seemed as though a silver fog had pushed me the whole way.

Which was all kinds of disturbing now, as I walked down a brightly lit hallway, my tennis shoes squeaking on the shiny floor. Once I reached room 223, I paused outside the doorway. Took a deep breath. I knocked as I slowly pushed open the door and stuck my head inside the room.

Dare glanced over at me, did a double take, and shut off the TV show he'd been watching.

It was closing in on nine P.M. , and the fact that the hospital had unrestricted visiting hours was definitely a bright side.

But as soon as I had the thought, I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

Bright sides, with their glimmers of warmth and hope, were a Fullbright family trait.

And I wasn't a Fullbright.

"Hey," I said, my voice raw. "Mind if I come in?"

"Not at all."

I stepped inside, suddenly unsure why I'd come here.

He craned his neck to look behind me. "Don't suppose you smuggled Pepper in? She'd be the best medicine for me right about now."

The hospital bed next to his was empty, and fog obscured any view of the night sky outside the wide window. I pulled up a chair next him and sat. "Wish I'd thought of it."

When I'd gotten back to the farmhouse earlier, both Pepper and Hambone had glued themselves to my side, as if sensing my distress. They watched my every move as I changed clothes and started packing, intent on going back to Savannah then and there.

I'd only thrown one or two things in my suitcase, however, when I started thinking about Dare. Before I knew it, I was in the car on the way here.

"Hopefully you should be able to see her soon," I said, taking stock of him. "Does the doctor still think you'll be released in a few days?"

There was an IV in his right hand. His left wrist sported two plastic medical bracelets. He wore a hospital-issued gown that had cords coming out the opening of his sleeve. His black hair stuck out every which way. Dark circles curved under his eyes and seemed extra pronounced because his color had yet to come back. He was pale as a ghostie, as Aunt Bean would say.

Aunt Bean.

Who wasn't my aunt.

Which made me think of Addie, who wasn't my sister.

My lower lip trembled, and I looked all around the room until I felt as though I could talk without bawling my eyes out. A machine kept track of Dare's vital signs, and two bags hung from his IV pole. On his bedside table was a pink plastic pitcher, a cup, a pack of crackers, the TV remote, and his cell phone.

"Hopefully," he said.

I shifted my gaze to study his face, looking for myself in him. He had a widow's peak, the same as me. And our eye color was similar, though my mama also had blue eyes. That was about all I saw. If you saw us side by side, you wouldn't necessarily think we were family.

I'd certainly never thought it. Never for one moment even considered it.

But he was my uncle. My younger uncle, yes, but still.

And Luna. Sweet, vivacious Luna was my cousin.

Without a doubt, it was going to take me a while to wrap my head around this bombshell.

I fussed with the zipper on my jacket before finally saying, "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here."

"Not really. Petal called from the gala, wanting to know if what Winchester said was true."

I raised my eyebrows. "Why don't you sound—wait. Petal was at the gala ?"

"You didn't see her?"

I hadn't. "No. And it was probably a good thing."

He tipped his head. "Why's that?"

"I'm not sure I would've been nice."

Chuckling, he said, "I don't believe that."

I tried hard to find the right words. "Going to that dance while you're laid up in the hospital recovering from surgery isn't right in my book. It's just not. And it shouldn't be right in yours either. Did she visit today at all?"

He looked toward the darkened window. "No."

"But she had time to call you to gossip." I sighed and shook my head, thoroughly disgusted with her, and I didn't care if he knew it.

Immediately, I thought that not caring was a product of my lingering shadow, but then I had to check myself. If bright sides weren't in my lineage, neither were shadows.

I scratched a hive and said, "You didn't sound shocked just now. About what Petal said. Did you already know?"

He lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I figured it out on my own when I was a teenager. When I was packing to move in with the Fife family, I found a picture behind an old dresser of Bryce and your mama being all lovey-dovey. It got me looking into the timeline of things. I thought you knew but didn't talk openly about it. I reckoned it was why you'd always been nice to me."

Tears filled my eyes. "I didn't know."

"I'm real sorry about what happened with Winchester. What he did ain't right in my book."

I wiped my eyes. "That's because you're a good person, Dare."

Whereas my granddaddy was not.

There was no good in him. There was only greed.

It was hard truth to accept, but I had to. I had to.

Dare dropped his head back against his pillow. "I never knew Bryce—I hadn't even been born when he went to prison, but I heard plenty of stories about him, and all of them made me want to hide under my bed. It's my thinking you were better off growing up not knowing he was your daddy."

What an ever-loving mess of a situation. My head hurt, trying to sort through it. I rubbed my temples.

"I imagine you're probably real confused right now," he said. "I would be, in your shoes."

I cracked a grim smile. "I've had better nights."

"I know this is new to you and all, but you've got people who love you. They'll help you through this."

I smiled at him counseling me in his current state. I thought it proved his inherent goodness. "But Addie and Aunt Bean didn't even know until tonight that I'm not related." I couldn't let myself think of their reactions right now. I just couldn't.

"Them finding out ain't going to change anything."

"You don't know that."

"I do know. And you will, too, once the shock wears off. You might not be a Fullbright any more than Luna's a Gray or I'm a Fife, but we've been loved like we are, plain and simple."

Was it so simple, though?

I suddenly had an image of Aunt Bean turning me away from her front door and nearly laughed, it was so preposterous. Dare was right. She'd love me no matter what.

But Addie? I wasn't as sure. For most of her life she hadn't wanted me as a sister, and now it was like her childhood wishes had come true.

And I couldn't forget how Granddaddy, as a parting shot tonight, had told Addie to think about contesting my daddy's will.

My daddy.

I blew out a breath. Good heavens. I didn't know how to process all this, how to switch from believing I knew exactly who I was to being someone who had to start rewriting her life, her history.

"Have you talked to your mama yet?" Dare asked. "Petal said you ran out of the dance like your britches were on fire, ignoring everyone calling after you."

I decided I might have to snatch her fully bald the next time I saw her.

But no. That would be stooping to her level, wouldn't it?

Maybe only a little bald.

"Not yet," I said. "I just wanted to be alone."

A question floated in his blue eyes. "But you're here."

"I can't rightly explain why. It was the strangest feeling, like I was being pulled here by something I couldn't see."

"Maybe you were feeling the tug of family ties."

I held his gaze, saw hope floating there. "Maybe so."

He picked up the pitcher on the table, tipped it toward the cup, and frowned when hardly any liquid came out.

Bouncing up, I said, "Do you need a refill?"

"Nah. I don't want to put you out none."

I took the pitcher from his hand. "Don't start talking nonsense or I'll get the doctor in here to check your head. He'll have to listen to me, seeing as how I'm family and all."

He cracked a smile. "Okay then."

I hurried into the hallway and found someone who directed me to the nourishment room on the floor, where I could refill the pitcher.

By the time I returned, a nurse was with him, checking his vitals. I set the pitcher on the tray. I looked out the window. The fog had fully cleared, revealing a starry night.

After the nurse left, Dare refilled his cup and said, "Petal didn't only call tonight to talk about you."

There was something in his tone that made me sit down and give him my full attention. "What else did she have to say?"

"She gave me an ultimatum. Pepper goes or she does."

I winced. And knew without a doubt if I was him, I'd have picked Pepper before Petal even hung up the phone. But I wasn't him. I wasn't the one who loved her.

"I don't understand any of this," he said. "She liked Pepper at first. Played with her. Took her for walks. Dragged her, actually. Pepper never took a shine to Petal."

If that hadn't been a clue, I wasn't sure what was. But love had a way of masking the things we didn't want to see. I knew that better than most.

I said, "I wonder if Petal only wanted you to think she liked Pepper. What would've happened if she told you straight off that she didn't like dogs?"

"I wouldn't have dated her. It's a deal-breaker."

I tipped my head. "There you go. She probably thought she could change your mind, over time. It seems to me Petal is used to getting what she wants. And I suspect she pitches fits when she doesn't."

Fits that ended up hurting others.

He raked a hand over his face. "I don't know what to do."

I swallowed down my vote to ditch her. It wouldn't help him right now. "I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask. I hope you'll give counseling some thought. It's probably best to get someone else's perspective. Someone impartial." Because that person wasn't me. Or anyone who cared about him. Then I took a breath and added, "Did you know I was supposed to get married last November?"

"I heard some talk about it."

I was certain he was being diplomatic. There'd probably been weeks of gossip. "My situation isn't exactly like yours, but I do know what it's like to stay in a relationship for all the wrong reasons. I'd have saved myself a heap of heartache if I hadn't ignored red flags because I was afraid of disappointing people. If I wasn't so afraid of letting go of the picture I'd painted in my head of picket fences and babies and a happily ever after."

After a long moment, he said, "A heap of heartache, you say?"

"It was like a giant landfill. I'm not going to lie, there was a stench."

He laughed, then winced, pushing a hand to stomach. "I'll keep that in mind."

It was nice to see, if only for moment, that he hadn't lost his sense of humor. That he wasn't completely lost in his darkness.

His eyes drifted shut, as if he simply didn't have the strength to keep them open any longer. "Can you keep Pepper till I figure out what I'm going to do? I know she's safe with you."

My heart about broke, because with those words, he'd all but told me he knew Pepper wasn't safe with his wife.

"I need to go back to work in Savannah in a couple of days, but I'll definitely keep her until then. And I'm sure Addie or Aunt Bean will be happy to pick up where I leave off. She's really the sweetest dog."

He nodded, and I pretended not to see the tears gathered in the corners his eyes.

Seeing his emotion made me tear up as well. I hurt for him. With him.

After a few minutes of quiet, just when I thought he'd slipped into sleep, he said, "Hey, Tessa Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being nice to me when you didn't even know we were related."

Oh my heart . I reached over and took hold of his hand, gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

His eyes were still closed when he said, "I wish you weren't leaving so soon. I feel like I'm just getting to know you."

And as he drifted off to sleep, I sat by his side, and wished it, too.

I settled into the chair, letting my thoughts wander, not wanting to leave him alone. When there was a tap on the door a half hour later, I thought it was going to be a nurse. But it wasn't.

It was my mama who stood in the doorway. In that split second, I realized Dare must've reached out to her when I went for water, because there was no other way to explain how she'd known I was here.

At the sight of her, at the anguish etched into her face, tears filled my eyes, and I jumped up. She stepped inside and I rushed across the room, flinging myself into her embrace.

"Before anything else, Tessa Jane," she said, her voice a crackly whisper, "I want you to know that Gavin loved you with his whole heart. He was so proud, so very proud, to be your daddy."

I nodded and kept holding on to her—and to person who I used to be—for just a while longer.

Because after tonight, I knew I'd never be the same again.

And I was starting to realize that might not be a bad thing.