Chapter 28
“How is it you have friends when you’ve not been here long?” Samuel asked her.
“Because I’m not the mighty Phillip Caldwell’s daughter here.”
“Is what that man, Ryder, said back in that cafe true, Libby?” Samuel asked her after another mouthful of cider. “Did Andrew say that to you about the photos to be taken at the wedding?”
“You think I’d lie about something like that?”
Samuel sighed. “No.”
“He spoke to me in the church. He took me aside and said that and how his mother could have the official photos changed to remove this”—she touched her scar—“but she had no say over the pictures guests took. That they would be on social media.”
“Bitch!” her brother hissed. The vehemence behind the words surprised her. He rarely lost his cool.
“Samuel,” his father rebuked. “Dianne is not that. She was just looking out for our families.”
“By upsetting Libby?” Samuel said, looking angry. “You should have told me, Libby.”
“When?”
“When it happened. I would have listened, as would Savannah and Katie,” Samuel said.
Her laugh held no humor. “You wouldn’t have listened. That church was full of the most affluent members of Piedmont. No way would any of you have risked the precious Caldwell name being dragged through the mud.”
“It’s been dragged through it anyway,” her father snapped. “But you are my daughter. Of course I would have listened.”
“Father, I tried to tell you many times what I wanted to do. That I didn’t want to be an accountant, I wanted to be a chocolatier, but you never listened then, and you wouldn’t have that day in the church.”
“That’s different.” He dismissed her words.
“You never talked to me about wanting to do that,” Samuel said to her.
“Why would I talk to either of you? It’s just something else in my life you controlled, and I let you. The fault is as much mine as yours.” Libby drank more cider.
“All good, Libby?”
“All good, thanks, Delores,” Libby said when the woman approached.
Today she wore a black leather bustier under a thick checked shirt that Libby was sure she’d seen Red in before. Her impressive chest was spilling over the leather. She wore her hair in a high ponytail, tied with a bright red ribbon, and her lips were the same color.
“I’ll just top that up for you, honey.” She whisked away her empty glass and refilled it.
“Come home, Libby, and we can work through this. You don’t belong here,” Samuel said.
“I’ve felt more connected to people here than I have ever felt before,” Libby said softly. “Real people who love and respect each other.”
“More connected than to your family?” She heard the shock in Samuel’s voice.
Her father snorted. “You’ve lived your entire life not wanting for anything. Luxury vacations surrounded by your family, and this is the place you feel connected,” he scoffed.
“No offense, Mr. Caldwell,” Red said. He’d been drying glasses from a tray on the bar and shamelessly listening in to their conversation, which she guessed he could do, as it was his bar. “But you need to listen to your girl because she’s trying to tell you something, and from where I’m standing, which is right beside her, it doesn’t seem to getting through to either of you,” he said, looking from her father to her brother.
“It’s okay, Red,” Libby said.
“My father was an asshole, so I can spot them,” Red muttered.
“Go home, please,” Libby said to her family, suddenly exhausted. “I’ll be back soon, but I’m not ready yet. I want you to unfreeze my accounts, Father.” And then I’m opening another bank account and putting all my money into that.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say he froze your bank accounts?” These words came from Nina, who had clearly been thirsty if she was back for another drink so soon, or she’d been deliberately listening to their conversation and Libby hadn’t noticed. “I mean, who does that to their kid? Especially considering your family is worth kadrillions of dollars.”
“How many zeros in a kadrillion?” Red mused.
She really should have just stood outside on the street to have this conversation, and then anyone passing could have joined in, Libby thought.
“Tell me she’s mistaken,” Samuel said. “Tell me you didn’t cut Libby off, Father, when she was God knows where, alone and upset, with no money.”
“Is there any chance we can have the conversation without everyone interrupting us, Elizabeth?” her father snapped, not answering his son’s question.
“Not in this town, unless you drive out a few miles and find a field and then stand in the middle of it, but even then, the farm animals can be pretty nosey,” Red said, then winked at Libby.
“I have meetings, Elizabeth. We need to leave now and can continue this discussion on the plane.”
“Answer my question, Father,” Samuel said in a voice she’d never heard him use before.
“I needed to bring her home. This was the quickest way to do that,” Phillip Caldwell snapped.
“Well, shit. She broke down here, and freezing conditions forced her to sleep in her car,” Red said, standing beside Delores and glaring at Phillip Caldwell. “She had no money, no place to stay, nothing, and you just left her to survive on her own.”
“But that’s like leaving a newborn to fend for itself. Anyone can see Libby’s been raised gentle and with money—no offense, honey,” Delores said.
“None taken,” Libby said, swallowing another large mouthful and enjoying the slight buzz going on inside her head.
“Well, fuck!” Samuel roared.
“Samuel, watch your mouth!” their father barked.
“You should have called me, not Savannah,” Samuel added, looking at Libby. “I would have helped.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You do everything he does.”
“Everything all good here?”
And that was just what she needed. Dan Duke had arrived. Looking in his eyes, she didn’t see anger, so at least that was something. Maybe he wasn’t there to yell at her.
“Who are you?” her father demanded.
“Deputy Dan Duke.” He held out his hand.
“We call him Double D even though there are three. It’s one of many nicknames,” Red said. “You want a drink, Dan?”
“Cider, thanks, Red.”
“And that’s my cue. I’m done, so I don’t want you to follow me, nor do I want to see either of you again until I’m ready to do so.” Libby got off the stool and stumbled a few steps. Dan’s hand shot out to steady her. “Goodbye.”
“Libby, stay and let’s talk,” Dan said.
“No. I want to be alone.” She’d only taken one step when the music started outside. “You have to be kidding me,” Libby muttered. “I’m not doing it.”
“You know better than that, sweetheart.” Dan’s arm wrapped around her waist, and then she was being urged out the door behind the other patrons. “No need to get yourself arrested now, is there?”
“But if I’m in jail, no one can get near me,” she whispered loudly. That cider really was potent. “Your brother hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s hurting is all. Ryder takes things harder than the rest of us because he’s the best of us. He feels betrayed because you didn’t tell him the truth about yourself.”
He nudged her outside to where groups of people were forming up and down the main street. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Nina was tugging Samuel out and Delores her father. Both looked terrified.
“Libby!” her brother called. She ignored him.
“Now, I want to ask you a question, Libster.”
“Libster?”
“Hey, I have more nicknames than anyone in this town. It seems fair you should have one.” Dan’s smile reminded her of Ryder’s.
“I’m not from this town, Dan.”
Her father and brother were in the group behind them, and the people with them, Red being one, were explaining what was going on. She doubted Phillip Caldwell had ever been forced to do something like this, and he would hate every second of things being out of his control.
Lyntacky had changed Libby in many ways—ways she’d never change back from. Looking around her, she saw the storefronts and the faces that were familiar. She’d often thought small-town life simple, and it was, but it was so much more than that. It was about belonging here in Lyntacky.
“I know you’re not from this town, Libby, but do you want to be?” Dan said, tugging her around Linda and Bradford.
“My life is not here, Dan.”
“Well then, maybe you should go with your family and leave my brother. Because the man I just left is hurting and trying not to show it. And I’ll tell you something, Libby, I’ve never seen him look like that before. But if you care about him, if he’s the man you want in your future, the miles you live apart and the differences that lie between you mean nothing.”
“Dukes,” Linda said, sniffing into her handkerchief and no doubt leaving a lot of orange concealer behind, “they always know exactly what to say and when. Lovely, Dan.”
“Meant every word, Linda.”
The pain of hurting Ryder burned inside Libby. She had to at least try to explain why she’d done what she had before leaving Lyntacky, or she’d always regret it.
“I’m going now, but think about my words, Libby,” Dan said when the music finished. He then leaned in to hug her. “I know you never meant to hurt him, so make it right if you want to have something with him. But he’ll make you work for it.”
She’d never thought her future could be in Lyntacky and deep inside believed she’d go back to Piedmont, but did she really want that? No.
“What just happened?” her father said, reaching her. Samuel, she noted, was still in conversation with Bart, so he could be a while. “How can you be happy in a place that carries on the way this town does? One man gave me a full rundown on how he makes fish pie. I tell you, do I look like I would want that?”
He looked flustered, and it wasn’t a look she was used to seeing on him.
“Don’t be a snob, Father,” Libby said. “They’re good people. Your problem is you surround yourself with people who tell you what you want to hear, but you won’t get that here. They wouldn’t care if you were royalty. They’d still treat you the same.”
“Enough! This place is not a good influence on you, Elizabeth.”
“Come on, Lib. It’s girls’ night at my place. Let’s go.” An arm slid through hers, and she was soon walking up the street with Nina on one side and Cill on the other. Looking over her shoulder, she noted Bart was now imitating fly-fishing for Samuel, and her father was standing there in the middle of the street, frowning.