CHAPTER 40

Charlotte wept most of the way to Austin and thought how ironic it was that she'd also been crying when she'd left Austin two months ago. Then, she'd been so distraught that she'd missed her turnoff and wound up on the outskirts of Horseshoe, Texas.

Where she found more than she could have dreamed of.

Today, however, despite her tears, she found her way to Austin and then took the loop to Hyde Park subdivision, where her father's family had lived for a hundred years. Her father had inherited the large Colonial-style house and her mother had updated it so many times that it looked very stylish and modern.

The yard was beautifully landscaped with blooming crepe myrtles, oleanders and every flower imaginable spilling radiant color around the brilliant green of the Saint Augustine grass. Her mother loved flowers and her father saw that she had her every wish. Towering live and red oaks shaded the lawn.

She pulled into her spot in the garage and waited for that special feeling she felt every time she came home. It didn't come. With a sigh, she collected her bags and headed inside.

Rebecca, the Mexican housekeeper, was putting dishes into the stainless-steel dishwasher. Ah, a dishwasher. She'd forgotten what it looked like.

"Charlotte!" Rebecca said in surprise. "You're home."

"Yes." Charlotte found it hard to smile, but she forced herself. "Is my mother in?"

"She's in the living room with Mr. Thompson, having after-dinner drinks." Rebecca nervously wiped her hands on her apron. "Can I get you something to eat?"

Charlotte knew Rebecca was expecting a tirade of angry words and trying to avoid them.

She genuinely smiled this time. "No, thanks. I'll just say hi to Mom and Lewis, and then I'm off to bed." 'To cry until I don't have any tears left.'

Rebecca looked perplexed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm.." She thought for a minute. "I'll answer that tomorrow." She hugged Rebecca and went through the dining room to the large living room, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the backyard and pool.

Sitting next to each other on a chintz sofa, Lewis drank wine with her mother. She would have been furious at the sight two months ago. She felt embarrassed by that response now.

Lewis had an enormous, domineering build and a voice to match. Quite dissimilar from her feeble father. Her father was her mother's senior by fifteen years, and Charlotte came to understand later in life how important that age difference was. Her father was not socially inclined, but her mother was. Looking back, she saw how unhappy her mother had been.

After falling in love, Charlotte could see it so clearly. She also realized that by not allowing Charlene to date another guy, she had harmed her mother.

Just as Alice had resisted her at first. God, she missed that kid already. How was she going to make it through the next few days? Weeks? She didn't even know how she was going to make it through the night.

Without Elvis playing in the background.

Without John.

"Charlotte!" Her mother jumped up, followed by Lewis. "Oh, darling, you're home." Her mother engulfed her in a cloud of Chanel No.5, her favorite perfume.

"Yes. I'm home."

Charlotte's hair was tucked behind her ears by Charlene. "Go put on some makeup. That natural look doesn't become you."

"Charlene," Lewis said. "That's no way to talk to your daughter. I think she looks beautiful."

Charlotte smiled at Lewis. "My mother still thinks I'm fourteen years old."

He winked. "I'll work on that."

"I'm still in the room," Charlene said, looping her arm through Lewis'.

"Like I could ever forget that." Lewis patted Charlene's hand, and Charlotte allowed herself to see the love they had for each other.

And it didn't hurt.

"I need to apologize for my childish behavior." She held out her hand, with its chipped nails to Lewis. "I wish you both years of happiness."

Lewis looked at her hand and then her face. "Now, I'm a hugging type of guy."

She held out her arms. "Hug away."

Arms of steel lifted her off the floor and swung her around. Unable to stop herself, she laughed.

When he set her on her feet, she staggered a moment and then said, "I'll leave you two alone to drink your wine."

"Have a glass with us," Lewis suggested.

She picked up her bags from the floor where she'd dropped them. "Maybe another time." Right now she just wanted to be alone. With thoughts of John.

"Darling, I want you to know I've written up a scathing report about Sheriff Stark and his treatment of you. When the governor returns from his trip, I plan to give him a copy."

Charlotte swung around. "Don't you dare! If that report sees the light of day, I'll never, ever speak to you again."

"My love,"

"Tear it up."

"Alright." Charlene shrugged. "If that's what you want."

"It is." She made her way to the stairs. "In addition, you really shouldn't behave that way towards your future son-in-law."

"What?" Charlene gasped. "What did she say?"

"Charlene, leave her alone. Let her live her own life."

"But—"

"No buts. Come here."

Their voices followed Charlotte up the stairs. That was what she planned to--- do live her life. Her way.

John spent most of his time trying to find ways to answer the question "When is Charlotte coming back?" And the question mostly came from his daughter.

He feared Alice would revert to insisting she wasn't a girl, but she didn't. His daughter now had friends, and he spent a lot of time chauffeuring her from one girl's house to the next. Slumber parties were the norm on weekends, and a lot of them were at his house. Between little girls giggling and Elvis at earsplitting volume, he spent a lot of nights in the hammock. Like tonight.

He didn't mind.

It reminded him of Charlotte.

But then, it didn't take a lot to remind him of her. He saw her in the bright blue sky, in the seductive moonlight and felt her in the dead of night. She had become a part of him, just like breathing. After Sarah's death, he'd sworn he'd never feel that way again, that a woman would never become the center of his universe. It hurt too much when it ended.

And it was bound to end with Charlotte. He'd known it the instant Charlene Thompson had labelled him a hillbilly sheriff. Charlotte had spoken in the same tone, used the same language, and showed the same. It would split them apart in the coming years. Better to end it now. It would be too traumatizing later.

With a sharp exhale, he wondered why he was trying to rationalize everything. He used to be a risk-taker who tried to enjoy every moment of life. The loss of Sarah had changed him. He was cautious now, seeking some kind of assurance. But life didn't come with one. Life came with love and faith.

'I love you.'

He closed his eyes, blocking out her words, but they seeped their way into his heart, anyway. He wondered what she was doing. Was she out partying? Who was with her?

It didn't matter. Charlotte Lily didn't belong in his life.

Then why did it feel like she did?