The Secrets of Rosa Lee (26 page)

The wild thought had just become a possibility.

M
icah told himself he wasn't going to circle by Randi's place when he left the professor's party. After all, it was after ten on a weeknight. He had to work tomorrow and the bar would probably still be open tonight.

The snow continued to fall. Within a few hours it would be hazardous as he headed out toward Cemetery Road. Even though Logan was asleep, Micah needed to get home. The committee had agreed to meet at three o'clock tomorrow to take the final vote and, as near as he could tell, not one member knew how to vote.

Even if Sidney was Rosa Lee's granddaughter, she had no claim to the house. The old place was still about to crumble in on itself. Three oil companies were making good offers. The town needed the money to stay alive.

Micah tried to get his heater to work as he circled Randi's bar. Even if Sidney's mother's name had been on the baptism document, he decided, it wouldn't change anything.

Bad luck had followed the committee this past week. Maybe if they voted, that would end.

Micah found himself in the bar parking lot wondering when he'd turned off the main road. The lights to Randi's place were on, but not a car sat in the lot. Apparently,
everyone but him had sense enough to stay off the roads tonight.

He parked at the front door and ran in before he changed his mind. He'd just say hello, ask how she was, check to make sure all was well.

An old country song greeted him through the blink of twinkle lights. The chairs were turned over on the tables, all the pool cues were racked.

She stood behind the bar, cleaning up for the night. “I was just about to close,” she said before he stepped into enough light for her to recognize him.

Micah shook the snow from his hair and walked across the empty bar. He pulled off his coat and loosened his tie knowing he must look out of place. He wished he had something clever to say. Something about the night and the storm and why he stopped by.

But, there was nothing he could say that would be the truth. He raised his hand. She stepped around the bar and took it, her eyes as full of need as he knew his heart was.

They walked to the worn dance floor. He turned toward her and Randi melted against him. She laid her head on his shoulder, he held her with one arm around her waist and they danced, moving slowly across the floor, as smooth as leaves drifting in lazy water.

He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her breath against his throat, loving the smell of her hair against his cheek, loving Randi. He didn't know when it had happened, he didn't care, but he knew he loved her.

Neither said a word as the song changed from one to another on her favorite mix of tunes. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, molding so close against him he could feel her heart pounding.

He spread his hand across the warm skin at her waist and let his fingers glide back and forth along her spine.
Circling, like she'd taught him to do, he laughed at the way she followed as if she'd read his mind. He didn't care if knowing her was right or wrong. It had become a part of him.

They danced to one song after another, without any need to talk. He moved his hands along her body, learning every curve. There was no hesitance on his part, no shyness on hers. He'd never felt about a woman the way he felt about Randi, not even his wife. Amy had been his partner. But Randi, whether they ever married or not, was his mate. There was something primitive about it. In the beat of the music. In the beat of his heart. Something drew him to her and had from the first.

Finally, when the songs had circled back to where he walked in, Randi pulled away. “Go home,” she said the words, but her eyes seemed to say so much more. “It's late.”

He nodded and turned to pick up the jacket he'd let fall over a table. He was afraid if he started talking he might never stop. He'd probably frighten her to death. He had a hole of need so deep he didn't know if anyone but her would ever fill it. He pulled on his coat and took a step toward the door.

Randi's touch stopped him.

When he turned, she moved closer, turning his collar up as her body leaned into him. “Be careful,” she whispered as her arms circled inside his coat. Her hug was so tight, he couldn't breathe. He wrapped her against him and held on, wishing he never had to let her go.

She pulled away and walked to the door.

When he passed her, he leaned and kissed her lightly on the mouth as he had before. Her lips were warm and slightly open. Then, he stepped out into the cold. A moment later the door locked behind him.

Micah drove home with Randi still close. He could feel the warmth of her against him. The scent of her lay thick in his lungs. The taste of her lips lingered on his mouth.

He checked on Logan, then fell into bed after removing only his coat. Lying in the dark, Micah stared out at the night. The snow had begun to blow and circle.
Dancing,
he thought.

Nothing made sense anymore. His life. His attraction to Randi. He knew all the rules, he taught them to couples about to marry. Look for someone with the same background, same religion, same values, same goals in life.

People don't pick a mate by how she smells or how she feels. There had to be more to it than that. Amy and he had been mirror images of one another. Both only-children raised by religious parents with strict values. Both educated the same, both loving the same things. How could he have not loved Amy from the first day he met her? It had been as natural, as reasonable, as breathing.

He stared into the night. How could he love Randi now?

Maybe he was starved to have a woman near?

No, that made no sense. There were plenty of women around and he had no desire to hold any of them close the way he held Randi. Women at the church were always hugging him. It never crossed his mind to pull one close enough so that he could feel her heart. Surely he would have noticed if he'd developed the habit of smelling a woman's hair.

He tried to concentrate. Had he ever smelled a woman's hair?

No. Not one.

So, that eliminated the possibility that he'd changed into some kind of sex-starved maniac.

He didn't want a woman. He wanted Randi.

He wanted her in his life. He wanted to laugh with her
and fight with her. He wanted to feel all the mess that comes from caring about another. He wanted to worry about her and have her worry about him. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up with her warmth beside him.

The strangest thing about this relationship, if he could call it that, was that she seemed to feel the same way. What had Frankie said?
She only dances alone.
Yet, she'd danced with him.

He didn't have to ask if she felt the same about him. He knew it all the way to his marrow. Just as he knew she was lying awake across town right now wishing they'd danced one more dance.

A
fter everyone had left for the night, Sloan helped Sidney pick up from the party. “Have fun?” he asked like a kid who needed to be told that he'd done something right one more time.

She yawned. “I wish I didn't have to get up early in the morning, but I had a great time.”

“I think everyone did.” He shoved aluminum-foil wrappers into the trash. “Only next year I'm buying three dozen tamales. Those Rogers sisters can put them away.”

Sidney laughed. “They had to have something to cut the fire of their hot sauce. When I heard Beth Ann tell Billy she called it her ‘death-wish special,' I thought she was kidding until I tasted it.”

“It was a little warm,” he said as he bumped into her pulling the bag out of the trash can. “You ever think of getting a bigger place? I feel like I've been walking around in a dollhouse all night.”

“I could just get a smaller friend,” she countered.

He sat the bag down and gently pulled her to the couch. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About trading you in for someone smaller? Maybe I could get two guys half your size. Or maybe if I left you out in the rain, you'd shrink.”

“No.” He looked serious. “I want to talk about becoming more than friends.”

He sat beside her without touching. “I'm tired of tiptoeing around and not asking personal questions. I try to act like you are just someone I've met in passing. But it's not working.”

“We've only known one another a week.” She knew she could argue the point but, in truth, she felt as if they'd known each other longer, too.

“I know.” He took her hand. “I'm too old to be your boyfriend and it's probably too soon to be lovers, but there needs to be someplace in between. Someplace where we can be comfortable.”

He reached into his pocket. “I got you something. It's not really a gift, so I didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

“Thank you.” She stared down at the box wrapped in what looked like a grocery sack.

“I didn't have any ribbon.” He frowned, looking very much like he wished he could take the gift back.

Carefully she opened the box as if it were something special.

Sloan rubbed his hands together and watched.

Sidney pushed the lid off and pulled out a set of keys. She looked up, having no idea what to say.

He tried to explain. “That red one is the key to the lock box on the back of my truck where I keep my tools. The blue one will get you in the back door of my place on Lake Travis. The silver one is my apartment in Houston. The biggest one is to my truck. That funny-looking one unlocks any door on my family's old place outside of Tyler. No one lives there anymore, but I keep it locked.”

“I don't understand.”

Sloan leaned back looking as if he believed this might
be the dumbest thing he'd ever done. “I wanted you to have them. You should know that I want you in my life. In all of my life.” He pulled out his keys. “There's not a key on this ring that isn't on that one. I want you to feel free to walk around.”

“You're saying no locked doors. Nothing I can't ask.” She didn't look as if she believed him.

He breathed. She got the point. “That's what I'm saying. There are things in my past that I may not volunteer unless you ask but, if you want the truth, you got the right to know.”

Sidney frowned. “And what are you asking in return?”

“Nothing,” he said. “This was my gift to you. You take your time about unlocking your doors. I've just spent too many years closed away. I want to know I allowed someone in even if it may be the first and only time in my life. I allowed you in.”

She circled her fingers around the keys. “Thank you.”

He closed his eyes thinking this idea hadn't seemed near as crazy when he'd thought of it. Maybe he should have just written her a letter saying how special he thought she was and how he wanted her to feel comfortable around him and not worry that she might say the wrong thing or ask something too personal. She wasn't the type to laugh at him behind his back, but he wouldn't blame her if she did. A set of keys! What kind of gift is that?

Her lips brushing his surprised him. He opened his eyes as she leaned forward again and kissed him lightly.

“Anything else you have to say, Sloan?”

He smiled. “Yeah, come a little closer. There's something I'd like to teach you.”

For the next several minutes, he kissed her. Either he was getting rusty, or she was a fast learner because Sloan finally broke the kiss and swore that kissing her was about
as good as kissing gets. Everything about the professor surprised him. Why shouldn't this?

“You wouldn't want to change back into those cute flannel pajamas, would you?”

She shook her head. “It's time for bed.”

“That was my thinking exactly,” he grinned.

“No. I mean it's late.”

“I know. It's time for me to go.”

“Right.”

The good news, he thought, was that she didn't look any happier about it than he did. He stood, offering his hand to her. “Before you toss me out in the cold, I want to tell you about an idea I have. When the Rogers sisters were looking through your new gardening book, I remembered the line from Miss Carter's poem. The roses in a book are ever bright.”

Sidney whispered, “Look among roses ever bright for the key to unlocking the secrets of Rosa Lee. But what book? Where? All the books she had were donated to the library.”

He nodded. “What time can you get away tomorrow? I'll pick you up and we'll visit the library.”

“But Miss Carter said she had hundreds of books on gardening.”

He tugged on his boots. “Then we've got our work cut out for us. I'll be waiting when you get out of class. It might not be a bad idea to call the committee and ask if they could help us out before the big meeting tomorrow. Maybe some of them could meet us at the library. Ada May and Beth Ann know all about roses so they'd probably be the most help. We might not find anything, but if we did, you'd all know it before you vote.”

When they stood at the door, she asked, “Why are you doing all this, Sloan? Why help me find out about the
house and Rosa Lee? Don't you realize that if I find something it might sway my vote toward not letting the town sell the house?”

He shrugged. “Can't you tell why I'm helping you, Sidney?”

She shook her head, not accepting his answer.

“From the first time I saw you, I've been crazy about you. I should probably play it cool, but I've spent too much of my life playing my hand too close to the chest. You matter to me whether you believe it or not. I meant what I said about those keys.” He kissed her cheek. “I'm helping you because it matters to you. I'll help you any way I can.”

Sidney crossed her arms, accepting the challenge. “All right. Who were those men you talked to in the parking lot of Randi's bar this morning?”

“How'd—” He stopped and faced her square. “They were local men I hired to keep me informed about what's going on concerning the bidding on the Altman land. One works for Talon Graham, but he's hoping to get on with us. The other has lived here for generations and knows pretty much everyone in town. His last name is Hamm, I think. He must be kin to that crazy old man I've almost rear-ended twice.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. But you could have asked me about the bids.”

He fought the urge to touch her. “What's between us has nothing to do with my job. I'll never take advantage of that. I told you that from the first. As far as I'm concerned my business is with the mayor, no one else.”

She had to admit he'd kept his word so far.

He put on his hat and buttoned up his coat. “I'll be waiting for you when you get out of class tomorrow.”

She touched his arm and waited for him to lean down
so she could brush her lips against his. “Be careful driving tonight.”

He grinned. “I'm growing on you, Professor.”

She laughed. “That you are.”

She was still smiling when she met him the next morning. As he drove to the library, she told him the sisters were already looking through Rosa Lee's old books. Billy, Lora and Micah had plans, but they'd said they'd join them as soon as they could get away.

“I've been thinking about the part of the poem that goes,
Gone in thirty-four, a love forgotten nevermore.
She must be talking about Fuller dying, but he died late in thirty-three.”

Sloan pulled into the library parking lot. “Maybe it didn't rhyme with
more
so she changed the date?”

“A man might do that, but a woman never would.”

“A man would have remembered the secret and passed it on, not made up a rhyme.”

She didn't argue as they walked to the library. Today was the day, she thought. The day she'd promised to let the mayor know what would be done with the Altman house. In a few hours they'd all meet and vote. She had no idea how it would go. Sidney wasn't even sure how she'd vote.

“Sloan?” she asked as they walked toward the tiny library that had been added on to the back of the courthouse. “Where were you yesterday?”

“I went over to Wichita Falls to get a new windshield put in. I stopped by for a visit with Miss Carter. I'd mentioned that I might come back and I thought yesterday would be a good time.” He hesitated. “I also spent a few hours after lunch talking to my boss who is working on a site near Midland. He wants me there as soon as I'm finished here.”

Sidney didn't want to think about Sloan going on to the
next job. They were just getting to know one another. But she couldn't help but wonder how many times he'd said goodbye before he had time to form a bond. “Did Miss Carter tell you any more about Rosa Lee?” she asked, shoving thoughts of him leaving aside.

“Not really. Only that the old doctor who treated Henry and then Rosa Lee has a widow who is still alive. She talked on and on about how the old doc thought Henry was a fine man. Said he'd never met a man who walked his religion the way Henry Altman did. I don't see that could be much help to you.”

“Seems strange that, if he were religious, Rosa Lee wouldn't have had a wake and a funeral for him.”

“Maybe he didn't want it.” Sloan opened the library door.

“Maybe she was such a recluse she couldn't go through with it. With no other family, when he died she was all alone. Surely she had a priest come in.”

Sloan shook his head. “Miss Carter said Rosa Lee had nothing that she knew of.”

The Rogers sisters waved, drawing Sidney's attention. They were at a massive table surrounded by gardening books.

“I guess it's time we go to work.” Sloan winked at Sidney, then joined the sisters.

All four thumbed through book after book looking for anything written in the margins.

Nothing.

After a while, Sidney's eyes began to blur. Time was running out. At three, they'd meet at the old house and vote. She glanced at the clock. Three more hours. It wasn't the house that drew her, but the secret. She felt as if Rosa Lee had kept something secret all her life and now, for some
reason, was trying to tell her. If the house fell, the secret might forever be lost. She had to find it.

She leaned over to Sloan. “Have you got your phone?”

He handed her his cell without asking questions.

She dialed the mayor's number and leaned back, waiting.

On the fourth ring, the mayor picked up.

“This is Professor Dickerson, Mayor. I'd like to let you know the committee will not be making their final decision on the house until tomorrow.”

She held the phone away from her ear. Sloan looked up hearing the complaining from across the table.

“All right,” she said when he paused. “We'll vote at nine o'clock in the morning. Have everyone who is interested in the outcome at the house. We'll vote and announce our recommendation.”

She paused, listened, then added, “I'm aware of that…yes…see you in the morning.”

Sidney handed Sloan back his phone. “I guess I'm off the mayor's Christmas list.”

“What did he feel he needed to make you aware of?” Sloan asked.

“That only two people have filed letters about the historical importance of the house. One was mine. The other was old Mr. Hamm. He claims he'd never remember how to find Cemetery Road if the house wasn't there to remind him.”

“You thought more people would care, didn't you?” He hit her problem with a bull's-eye.

“I did. Yet I seem to be the only one. I'm sure whoever buys the land will put up a sign for Old Man Hamm. Not that he'll read it any more than he does the stop signs around town.”

Sloan's big hand covered hers. “Did you ever think that
maybe this house holds your history and not the town's? The walls are whispering to you, not future generations from Clifton Creek.”

“You believe she was my grandmother?”

He winked at her. “I just found a book you might want to take a look at.” He passed her a small book entitled
The Portland Rose.
“Page fifty-seven.”

Sidney held her breath as she opened the book. She knew before she found the page he'd named that there would be a picture of a small red-pink rose spotted with white. The Marbree rose.

For a moment she just looked at the picture of the rose her mother had been named after. Her mother had never mentioned where her name came from, but Minnie had planted Portland roses in the garden of every house she'd lived in. Most of the time the zone wasn't right and the shrub died, but once, when they'd had a courtyard, it had thrived.

“One more clue,” Sloan whispered from close behind her. “One more link between your family and Rosa Lee. How many do you need, Sidney, to believe?”

Sidney brushed her thumb across the rose and felt the imprint in the paper. She turned the page and saw writing in the margin of the next page.
Beneath the wooden rose. RL.