Chapter 27
Libby had grabbed her things after Ryder walked away from her and left the cafe, not wanting the mess that was about to unfold between the Caldwells to ruin the party going on upstairs.
Goodbye, Libby, I won’t be seeing you again. Ryder had said those words to her, and she’d never forget the look in his eyes when he’d spoken them. Betrayed, hurt. It had all been there even as he’d defended her, but that was Ryder Duke. No matter what hell raged inside his head, he would always remain true to the man his upbringing had made him.
“I don’t know what this is all about, Elizabeth?—”
She turned from where she was, storming up the street with her father and brother on her heels, to look at them. “I like the name Libby. Elizabeth is my grandmother. The rest of my family can call me that, but not you, Father?”
“Libby, don’t speak to him like that,” Samuel said, catching up to her. “Show some respect.”
“Respect?” she scoffed. “Perhaps you should have both shown me some of that instead of worrying about the family reputation. Do you think I did what I did because I wanted to, Samuel? That I destroyed all my hopes and dreams I’d been building toward for fun?” She was yelling now, and the shock on her brother’s face was real. Libby was usually a good girl and never raised her voice.
“What has gotten into you? Get in the car.” He tried to grab her arm again, but she pulled away and saw the black Escalade crawling along behind them, looking conspicuous on the main street of Lyntacky.
“How did you find me?” Libby asked.
“You used your card in the next town, so we started there,” Samuel said.
“Well, you’ve wasted your time. Go home, both of you,” she added and carried on walking.
Ryder never wanted to see her again, and that hurt so much, she wanted to bend at the waist and give in to the pain.
“Libby, wait.”
“I’m not going with you, Samuel, so go home if you don’t want to listen to what I have to say.” She continued walking, feeling a little freer inside for standing up for herself like she should have done years ago.
“We never have to worry about Elizabeth because she’ll always do the right thing,” she’d heard her parents say many times. And she had, because she’d wanted to be the good girl, and where had that got her?
This is what happens when you don’t speak up when you need to. You’re never heard.
She had no right to her anger; Libby knew that. She’d been raised with everything, and this, what was happening now, was her fault alone.
Running across the street, she stopped in the middle when she saw Bart and LouJean with a spray can. There were signs everywhere about what would take place tomorrow. The town of Lyntacky had been building toward this day since she’d arrived. The Lynpicks were something she’d wanted to watch. Libby had wanted to support Ryder and his family, but he wouldn’t want that from her now.
He’d seen her secrets as a betrayal of trust after everything he’d done for her, after they’d shared what they had today in his office.
“Libby, be a dear and take that tape measure to June,” LouJean said. “Bart and I are marking out the relay transition distances.”
“I’m a little busy, LouJean,” Libby said, taking the tape anyway and walking to where June stood in fluffy boots and matching ear warmers. Her lime-green jacket had “Lyntacky For Life” on the back.
“Hello, I’m Bart.”
She turned to see her father and brother shake Bart’s hand in the middle of the street.
They’d followed her instead of leaving because Phillip Caldwell never took no for an answer when he wanted it to be yes.
“Phillip Caldwell,” her father said, his eyes going to Libby. “Libby’s father, and this is my son, Samuel.”
That was the first time he’d ever called her that, and all because she’d spoken out.
“Well now, that’s nice you’re visiting her. We’re just finishing the setup for the Lynpicks,” Bart said. “I hope you’re sticking around?”
“What is a Lynpicks?” Samuel asked.
“Are you all right, Libby?” June patted her cheek with an ice-cold hand as Bart launched into a detailed explanation of what would take place tomorrow.
“Yes,” she said. “Not really, but I need to go now, June.”
“You look a little panicky, dear. What can I do to help you through that?”
Libby had cried more since her car limped into Lyntacky than she had in a lifetime. She fought the need to rest her head on one of June’s shoulders.
“I-I—” She sniffed loudly in a very unladylike manner that would have her mother hyperventilating. “—need to go, J-June.”
“Focus on me now, dear. Breathe in for three, that’s it,” she encouraged when Libby did as she asked. “Hold for four, and out for five. Again.” She stood there doing as June asked her and felt her shoulders slowly lower and the tightness in her chest ease slightly.
“Thank you, June, that helped,” Libby said. “But I need to go now.”
“You’re not leaving Lyntacky, surely? You and Ryder?—”
“I don’t know, but there is no me and Ryder. Goodbye, June.” She hugged the woman hard and then walked away, heading to the Rollaway, leaving her father and brother still in the middle of the street with Bart talking at them. They would be too polite to cut him off.
Libby needed a drink, and seeing as she rarely drank, it was a testament to just how she was feeling. She’d left the café, and Ryder, but had no idea what her next move should be. Usually, she could work through her problems logically, lately that hadn’t worked out so well.
Pushing open the door, she heard the low hum of voices. Lyntacky and all its buildings were now more familiar to her than her hometown. She would forever smell spiced wine in any form and think of the Rollaway.
It was busy with tourists because of the Lynpicks and other things taking place in town. She made her way to the bar and sat on an empty stool.
“Hey there, Libby girl, how are things?” Red said, giving her his big, gentle smile.
“Could I please have a drink, Red?” Libby said.
“Well, it is a bar, so sure thing. You okay?” He bent and peered into her eyes. “Because you look off.”
“Off how?”
“Like you want to destroy your favorite toy and cry about it afterward,” he said.
Libby sniffed again, then looked at her hands stacked on the bar, willing the tears away. The large hand that settled briefly on her head had some of them leaking out.
“It’s okay now, honey, you just sit there as long as you need. How about I get you one of those warm ciders you like?” Red said.
“Y-yes, please, Red, and I need to tell you something.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“My name is Libby Caldwell, not Libby Gulliver.”
“Okay. One cider coming right up.”
“I lied to you and everyone, Red.”
She watched him ladle the liquid into the mug and return. “So I heard, but I know you enough to understand you likely had a good reason.”
“I thought I did,” she whispered.
“You want me to beat someone up for you?”
“R-Red, no offense, but you need to stop being nice because I’m only just holding it t-together here.”
“Right, gotcha. Did I ever tell you I hate accountants? Stuffy lot with no humor and shit all personality.”
Her laugh sounded strangled, but it was a laugh.
“Elizabeth.”
She was Elizabeth again. “Go home, Father, and take your yes-man with you.”
“I beg your pardon? What the hell did you just call me?” Samuel demanded.
“You heard,” Libby announced, sounding like the ten-year-old she’d never been but now saw the appeal of. Maybe if she’d been mouthier and spoken her mind, she wouldn’t now be in this predicament. But then Libby wouldn’t have met Ryder, either, and even though she’d messed everything up with him, she could never regret that.
A leg brushed hers, and then Samuel was sitting beside her, and her father next to him.
“Here you go, Libby.” Red lowered the glass mug down before her.
“You never drink,” her father accused.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but I guess that’s on both of us.”
“You her dad?” Red asked.
“I am. Phillip Caldwell,” he said.
“And I’m her brother, Samuel Caldwell.”
“Your name doesn’t mean anything here, so just first names would have done,” Libby said, sounding bitter.
“I was being polite,” her father gritted out.
She ignored that and took a large mouthful of the cider, enjoying the spicy taste as it steadied her.
Goodbye, Libby, I won’t be seeing you again.
Did Ryder mean that after what they’d just shared in his office? That—the lovemaking—had changed her for life. No man would make her feel like Ryder Duke had today, and she knew that deep in her soul.
“No offense, but she doesn’t look too happy to see either of you,” Red said, placing ciders before her family even though they’d not asked for them.
Libby watched as Samuel picked his up and sniffed, then sipped; beside him, their father did the same.
“This is good,” Samuel said, looking at Red.
“Not sure why that surprises you, Samuel. Just because this is a small town doesn’t mean what we serve is not quality,” Red said in his amicable way. He then winked at her and went to serve a customer.
“Hey, Lib, what’s happening?”
“Hi, Nina.” Libby looked at her friend. Friend? Were they that? She’d worked in the Gnat a few times, and they’d talked. Acquaintance? It was odd, now that she thought about it, that she really didn’t have friends back in Piedmont. Her siblings, sure, but not friends she was really close to. The type you text to say your day was crap and bring over wine and pizza, or so she’d read in books. Mind you, the Caldwells rarely ate pizza, but still.
“You okay, Libby?” Nina asked.
“I like your jumpsuit,” she said, not wanting to air her family disagreements here where everyone could listen. “The red looks wonderful on you.”
It was the truth; it did and was something Katie and Savannah would wear. Not her. Libby went for more muted colors. Because you’re a boring good girl.
“Elizabeth!”
She spun back to face her father.
“You walked in here, and I followed, so talk to me, and then we can leave this place,” he said.
“This place?” Nina asked, now standing at Libby’s side. “This place is the hub of my hometown, so watch how you talk about it,” she added. “Who the hell are you anyway?” Nina looked Libby’s father up and down, and then Samuel, who, granted, was a good-looking man, if a little pompous.
Who wears a suit to go travel in a private jet to pick up their wayward sister?
“You sure don’t look like you fit in here.”
“Nina, this is my father, Phillip Caldwell, and my brother, Samuel. I lied about my surname. It’s actually Libby Caldwell.”
“No way, I read about you guys! You’re Caldwell Candies!” Nina clapped her hands in excitement, her annoyance forgotten. “I love your new mocha truffles.”
Her father’s face softened. He loved talking about his business. “Thank you. The reviews have been good so far.”
“Nina, your shot!”
Libby saw Cill waving from a pool table.
“Okay, gotta go, but nice to meet you… I think,” Nina said. “I hope you’re being nice to your daughter, Caldwells, because we like her here. And you”—she jabbed a long emerald-tipped nail into Samuel’s chest—“should worship your sister, so if you’re not, then you need to smarten up your act, because I may not have known her long, but she’s a good one.”
Libby pinched the bridge of her nose and went through June’s breathing exercise again, so she didn’t break down and sob, while her brother and father watched Nina walk away, shock on their faces.