Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(45)

Her heart clutched. Boone had warned her, but she had hoped.

Oh, how she had hoped.

She swept the flashlight beam across the expanse, stepping upon a pile and trying to be sure she’d covered it all. An odd shape beneath an old torn, yellowed bed sheet caught her eye. Carefully, Maddie picked her way through the boxes, heart pounding as she removed the obstacles in her way. She barked her shin on one sharp corner but hardly minded, so intent was she upon reaching her last best hope.

Her fingers trembled as she tugged at the sheet, hearing the rip of worn fabric. Maddie drew a deep breath and struggled to be calm and careful. With the steps of a penitent approaching the throne, Maddie moved closer.

It was a very old trunk, the leather cracked with the passage of years, the brass darkened with tarnish. Maddie closed her eyes and prayed that it wasn’t locked.

It was. Maddie looked around her, fighting the urge to cry.

She’d always said she was a good hand with a knife. Hoping Vondell would forgive her, Maddie climbed down the steps and retrieved an assortment of kitchen implements.

Maddie didn’t care, long minutes later, that her hair was glued to her neck with sweat. All that mattered was that she’d heard a click and that the latch had popped open.

Shaking like a leaf, Maddie lifted the lid and looked inside. The faint smell of lavender and mothballs teased her nose. Another yellowed sheet lay over the contents. Maddie lifted it carefully and set it aside.

On the left side lay a stack of books and things; on the right, a pile of fabric—clothing, she guessed. Maddie lifted a black leather scrapbook in her hands, afraid to open it.

Drawing a deep breath, she took a look. On the front page, hand-lettered, was the name Dalton.

Maddie’s heart stuttered. She’d found it. On page two, she saw the tiny dark curl of hair carefully placed inside an envelope turned yellow with the years. On the outside, it read Dalton’s first haircut, age two.

Maddie ran one reverent finger over the lock of her father’s baby hair. When a tear dropped on the page, she jerked her head up, swiping at her eyes. She couldn’t do anything to harm this precious evidence.

It all belongs to you, Maddie Rose. She could almost hear her father’s voice. With a shock, it truly hit her. These things were hers now. She was the last of her line, the last Wheeler.

Maddie Rose Wheeler. Was that who she was? And where did she belong?

She lost track of time as she thumbed through the album, seeing her father grow from infancy to boyhood to football team in high school. In the childhood pictures, she could see some of her own features. In the very few teenage photos, she could see the beginnings of the man she’d known.

She almost thought she could see the beginning of the end, the time when Rose had let Buster Caswell and his poison into their lives. Dalton stopped smiling as life grew more solemn. She couldn’t bear to think of what had been happening to them then.

Some of the photos had been taken at this very house, on the porch outside. She saw her father riding a pony near a barn that she recognized, and suddenly she was struck by a pain so sharp she gasped aloud.

This ranch held her past. How could she walk away from all that they had loved?

But she heard Boone’s voice. You can’t mean to stay. Remembered his eyes revealing how much he needed this place.

Please, Daddy. Grandmother Rose. I can’t stay. Please understand.

But I won’t forget.

Maddie laid down the album and made a mental note to ask Boone to help her carry the trunk downstairs. Then she reached inside for the large cloth item that took up most of the right side. Unfolding it carefully, Maddie cried out as she realized what it was.

A wedding dress. Inside its folds lay a picture of a woman Maddie knew in an instant was her grandmother Rose.

She knew because she might have been looking in a mirror.

Maddie’s eyes filled with tears as she devoured the sight of a tall man who had her father’s build and his dark hair standing beside a woman who looked for all the world like Maddie Rose, dressed in this very same gown with its simple cut, the lace now yellowed with age.

Her knees shaky and weak, Maddie stood and set the picture down with care. She backed away into the small open space and held up the dress, trying to imagine what it would look like on her. With careful steps, she pressed it to her body and closed her eyes.

Oh, Grandmother, how I wish I’d known you.

And that was how Boone found her. He’d come inside since Maddie hadn’t appeared at her usual time. He’d intended only to make a quick sandwich and go back to work, but the day was hot and he’d begun to worry. Deciding to check and make sure she hadn’t passed out from the heat, he’d mounted the stairs, assuming she’d hear his steps.