On days when she felt particularly sad, she carried Royal’s borrowed handkerchief in her skirt pocket. The soft linen square reminded her of the only time she’d known for sure she was truly happy. She held the fabric to her face and was transported far away.
She was doing just that one morning at the kitchen table when Cal interrupted her thoughts.
“Are you all right, Miss Lovey?”
“What?” Lovey was a bit startled. She’d been so lost in her own mental wonderings that she hadn’t heard Cal come in. “I’m fine.”
“I know it ain’t none of my business, but you seem real sad lately. I worry about you.”
“You shouldn’t worry. I’m fine.”
“Can I make you something to eat?” Cal regarded her with a tender expression on her face.
“I’m not hungry, but thank you, Cal. It’s kind of you to offer.” She was sure that Cal noticed the handkerchief with Royal’s monogram on it. She’d forgotten to hide it from view.
“Are you and Royal not friends anymore?”
For a moment, Lovey was at a loss for words. No one besides Laurel had asked about Royal. She didn’t even know how Cal knew to ask. Maybe she and Grace were friends and Grace had mentioned it.
“I’m not sure what we are anymore, Cal.” She gave Cal the first honest answer she’d given anyone lately. She was a shell of her former self, falling back on her practiced behavior as a preacher’s daughter of saying only what she was supposed to and doing only what was expected of her. Emptiness surrounded her like a cloud. This was worse than losing George, which she’d had no control over. She’d brought this on herself. She’d chosen in direct conflict with her own desires and she was miserable because of it.
“I think Royal is having a hard time too.” Cal fidgeted sheepishly, rubbing her hands together in front of her plump frame as if she wasn’t sure she should be saying what she was saying.
“What do you mean?” Lovey wanted to know and didn’t want to know at the same time. Not knowing certainly wasn’t keeping her from thinking about Royal anyway.
“She’s been acting a little crazy. Drinking more. She wrecked her car.”
“She wrecked her car? What happened?” Fear seized Lovey’s chest like a vise at the thought of Royal, hurt, and her nowhere close by to help.
“Grace said Sam told her that Royal was drag racing and run through a ditch and into a tree. She hasn’t been able to drive for work. Ned and Sam have been tryin’ to fix the car.” She paused for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “Royal is a right mess if you ask me. She’s gonna get herself killed if she don’t snap out of it.”
“Was she hurt?”
“She just banged her hard head.” Cal began to put away the groceries she’d carried in. “Maybe you should go see her, Miss Lovey. You might be the only one who could talk any sense into that crazy head of hers.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Cal.” So Grace knew that she and Royal had been involved in some way. Apparently, so did Sam and now Cal. She felt a little exposed, but not judged. She excused herself and moved to the porch.
In another few weeks she’d begin her teaching appointment. She had always enjoyed teaching, but she was dreading it now. Seeing the hopeful faces of children look up at her for inspiration would just make all of it worse. Would it be as easy to lie to them as it was to lie to herself?
Chapter Twenty-nine
Royal leaned on the hood of the old Model A Ford truck. “What do you mean I’m not driving?”
“I’m taking this load myself. You’ve been reckless lately, and I don’t need you on this run.” Wade hauled the last crate to the truck bed and pulled the tarp over it. “Whatever is going on with you, Royal, figure it out. Until then, you’ve got no car and you sure aren’t driving this one.”
She leaned back and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Fine.” She said the word, but she knew she was anything but fine. Royal was rattled and off her game. Ever since the night she’d wrecked her car she’d been a mess. Hell, she’d been a hot mess ever since Lovey walked out of her life. And now she’d given Wade the perfect window to cut her out of the one thing she liked doing. Driving.
He was up to something. He never wanted to drive before. She was suspicious that something else was going on and that her recent behavior was a convenient excuse.
Royal stepped back out of the way as Wade pulled the heavy truck through the wide barn door. Dust billowed behind the dark auto as he gave it gas and headed down the dirt drive to the main road.
There was an old wooden crate nearby, and after she watched the taillights fade, she turned around and put her boot through the wood slats. Then she picked up the splintered remnants and slammed it against the wall. She was looking for something else to destroy when she heard her grandfather’s voice behind her.
“Hey, now! What are you doin’?”
Royal turned on her heel, breathing hard. “Nothin’.”
“It didn’t look like nothin’ to me.” He moved to the opening of the barn door, moonlight reflecting on his face. He must have come through the door at the back of the stalls, but Royal was making so much noise during her fit of rage that she hadn’t heard him.
“You need to deal with this anger before it gets you in trouble.”
“I’m dealing with it.”
“Well, I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks.” The last thing Royal wanted to do was talk. She was angry and
