The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) (11 page)

“Are you okay?” He touched her shoulder but she jerked away, straightened. She shook her head. “I prayed for a family. When I was little, I prayed every night for my mama or daddy to show up and take me away. I looked for them everywhere I went—didn’t matter where. I always looked. I thought I’d recognize them the moment I saw them. But I wouldn’t have recognized them at all, would I? I had no idea what evil looked like back then—or that I was part of it.”

“You weren’t—you aren’t part of it. You’re different.”

She laughed. The hysterical sound coming from her throat startled her. “I have a mom, a dad, a brother and an aunt. Anyone else I should know about?” Her family was growing. A bitter taste made its way into her mouth.

Rayna stood and paced the porch. “We’re one big happy bunch, aren’t we? How do you know
Aunt
Person wouldn’t shoot at me or harm the old neighbor? She could have been doing our father’s dirty work.”

Louis looked at the floor again. He didn’t speak.

“Whoever shot at me, she, or he, barely missed me.” Rayna rubbed her temple. “This sounds like some made-for-TV movie that’s nothing more than crazy, disconnected scenes. No transition.”

“Not if you’ve lived it,” he answered.

But she hadn’t lived it so there was no logic to the horrors that were happening. “I don’t understand, Louis. Why didn’t you just leave me alone and let me live my life?”

Louis touched her wrist, lightly at first, then wrapped his long tan fingers around it. “I wanted my sister. There hasn’t been a day I didn’t think of you.”

She found it odd that the shade of his skin blended with hers. She’d always believed she was Cajun, as dark as the people who raised her. How could she and Louis resemble to the extent they did, yet be so different? She pulled away from him. “I’m sorry, but don’t. You may have thought of me every day, but I didn’t think of you. You’re a complete stranger and there’s still so much I need to know. I feel evil around me and I don’t know why. Is it you? Is it Raymond and Person? Is it the house, the city?” She rubbed her forehead. “I desperately need to know what’s going on.”

He sat up straight. “I understand.”

“I doubt if you do. You’ve grown up with our father and knowing everything. You knew about me. You know where our mother is. You know how and why I was...branded. I never had those answers. I’ve only just learned why I was given away because I’m not his child.”

“If you want, we can do a paternity test.”

She nodded. “That day Trent and I first met you, why didn’t you tell me then that you’re my brother? Why the secrecy? Why the drama? You’re the one who sent the picture and Tiva, aren’t you?”

“I sent everything. I came across Tiva in a pawn shop. That was weird. I was shocked to see her there. I took Person back with me to make sure it was the same doll. She was so excited—she made the doll new clothes—dresses like hers. That’s when we started looking for you in earnest. You probably don’t remember but Person gave you Tiva.”

“Person?”

“Raymond always thought it was from our mother’s lover, that Person was helping her, but I don’t remember it that way.”

“But why empty envelopes? The picture in the mail and then the doll? None of it makes sense.”

He inhaled. “I didn’t know if the guy who bought the house actually knew you—after all, he was in Louisiana. We—I had to see how you’d react. To see if you’d try to find us. I needed to know if you really wanted answers. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

His words filled her with anger. “Chances?
I
took chances. I gave up my job in Louisiana to come here searching. Came here based on nothing more than a hint, a tease, a picture of a house that had a brand on it exactly like the one I have on my chest. So what does that even mean when you say
you
didn’t want to take chances?”

He squinted and worried his bottom lip.

Rayna waved her arm angrily. “I’m not sure about any of this or you. I think I trusted you more when you were the odd man picking up our trash. Now, you’re the odd man who turns out to be my brother.” She picked up her bag and tucked Tiva inside.

Louis grabbed her arm. “Please, don’t go.”

She jerked away. “I have to. I feel sick. I want to think. I need to process all of this.”

“I’m sorry, Rayna, really, but you have to believe me. The only reason I posed as the trash man is because I wanted to be around you, to get to know you before you learned about me and our father. You’ve been nice to me. You’re always kind. If you’d been anything else—I hope it’s not an act because if you’re anything like our father, I want no part of you. And if you’re the least bit insane—”

“Like Person?” A laugh that sounded more like a sob escaped her throat. “Likewise, Louis.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around this.” She rubbed her chest. “I just can’t understand this kind of abuse.”

“Rayna, it wasn’t because of our mother. It wasn’t because she left him. He wasn’t punishing you.” He pulled his shirt open. “All Mudwings wear the Wounded Heart brand; it goes way back.”

A sob tore its way from her throat. The pent-up anguish she’d stifled for way too long threatened to erupt. Her heart ached, her stomach roiled. She needed to be alone where she could let it go, weep to her heart’s content. Her sorrow was too personal, too private—she had no intention of sharing it with anyone. Not Trent. Certainly not Louis. She’d never felt so betrayed, as if every member of her new-found-family had branded her, wounded her all over again. With tears streaming, she turned from him. She had to clear her mind so she could think, make sense of everything that had happened. She walked away, but after a few steps turned back to him. He looked sad, defeated. As if he too, could burst into tears. She wanted to comfort him but she fought the feeling away. Still, she wished she could say something to make things right, to make him feel better.

“I wish I’d known I had a brother.”

It was the truth.

Chapter 10

Sluggish and emotionally drained, Rayna plopped on the sofa. She curled up against the hard back of it and positioned a pillow beneath her head. She wanted to close her eyes and never wake up. She imagined she could feel her spirit leaving her body, taking her soul to the next life. She wouldn’t argue if Jesus took her home right this second; she was tired of the lies, the misunderstandings, the confusion, and the drama.

It still didn’t make sense for Louis to go to the extremes he had gone to. Why didn’t he hire a detective to find her then pick up the phone and call her? She would have come running. Of course, she wouldn’t have met Trent. She guessed she could be grateful for that one thing. The old saying, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all popped into her head. She didn’t know if it was true.

She’d just drifted off to sleep when voices from the kitchen yanked her awake. Or was she dreaming?

They were male voices. Trent’s and...was that Louis? She listened, trying to make out their words. Bits and pieces came through to her.

“Why did you have to—”

Trent spoke loudly then lowered his voice before she knew what he was going to say. She figured he was letting Louis have it with both barrels. Or had Trent known? She tensed at the thought. If she couldn’t trust Trent, who could she trust? No one. Absolutely no one.

“I had no idea things would backfire,” Louis answered. “I didn’t know there was anyone who would—”

Who would what? Rayna wondered. Trent had shushed him and he lowered his voice.

She sat up, anger brewing in her veins. She stood and yelled toward the closed kitchen door. “No more secrets!” Silence came from the kitchen and she imagined their surprised faces, how they probably stared at each other, wondering what to do. “Did you hear me?” she challenged.

Trent came through the door. Louis followed.

“Sit.” She motioned to chairs across from the sofa.

They glanced at each other then accommodated her.

“I want to know everything you know,” she said. “And I want the truth—nothing left out.”

“Rayna—” Trent began, but she raised her hand to silence him.

“Right now, I’m wondering if you’ve been lying to me. Did you know Louis is my brother?”

Trent held up both hands. “Swear. I did not.”

Rayna looked at Louis who nodded. “He didn’t. I was waiting for him outside so I could talk with him before he came in. I wanted to tell him what you already know.”

“Didn’t trust me to tell him?”

Her brother flushed and leaned forward on the chair. “Rayna, I don’t want you to leave. And Person did shoot at you. But it wasn’t because of Raymond. You’re staying in her room and she didn’t know who you were. That’s why.”

“Her room? Haven’t other people lived here and stayed in her room?”

“No. Only me. Our family. No one else has ever occupied this house.”

They sat silently, lost in their own thoughts. Louis continued. “Whether or not Raymond knew about you then, he does now. Both of you have to be careful because he still has people who owe him, and believe me, he collects.”

She crossed her arms and hugged herself. “What does that mean exactly? People who owe him. He sounds like the Godfather or something. A mafia type.”

“As dramatic as it sounds, he is. Sorta. Shady dealings in real estate and oil, even the growth of Oklahoma City. He’s done favors for big names and lots of people, loaned them money, collected money—you name it and he’s done it. Or had it done.”

“Louis, you said all Mudwings are branded, but if I’m not his...if my father is Davis Whiddon, then why would Raymond brand me? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, it does. He did it to spite our mother.”

Trent’s mouth dropped open and he shook his head.

“You know, I’m surprised he’d ever sell this house,” he said.

Louis stood and paced. “He didn’t. I did.”

Trent and Rayna looked at each other. “Wait a minute, I bought it legally, didn’t I? You can’t sell off property you don’t own or without the owner’s consent.”

Louis held up his hand. “Don’t worry. Everything was legal. I was able to get a competency hearing after my father’s—
our
father became paralyzed. He was unable to make decisions for himself then. I had to act fast while he was still pretty much out of it. I’m his legal guardian, in charge of everything he owns. Person helped me.”

“Why would she do that if she has such an allegiance to him?”

“Because she raised me. I’m more her child than his.”

“And she feels nothing for me. That’s why she could shoot at me.” She pressed her lips together and thought about the family she’d found. Trent was right. She should have listened to him. Her family was more insane and evil than she could have imagined.

Louis moved toward her. “Rayna, I swear, she wasn’t thinking, she didn’t realize it was you. And I told you, something’s missing in her mental or emotional makeup. She never speaks. Or maybe she can’t, I don’t know. I’ve known her all my life and I’ve never heard her utter a single word. I heard an old woman in the family say Person never made another sound after she was...branded.”

Rayna rubbed her hand over her heart.

He leaned toward her. “If you had stayed with our father; you could very well be the same way.”

She was silent, visualizing, imagining growing up at the mercy of Raymond Mudwing. An involuntary shiver scurried down her spine. “What happened to him, Louis? Why is he in a wheelchair?”

“A mugging. Just a random mugging.” Louis ground his teeth. The muscles in his face became visible, then he relaxed and let loose of his tension.

“But he said it was because of Tiva. Why would he think that?”

“Person got Tiva for you—to protect you. Surely you know the doll has some kind of curse on it.”

“Told you! I knew it!” Trent shouted.

“Even when you were little Person made clothes for you, her, and Tiva. When she wanted to rile Raymond, she always wore the dress that would remind him of Tiva.”

“She tormented him.”

“And he deserved it,” Louis replied. “You’ve heard people call him the judge?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t know.”

“He never was a real judge. He’s always been a powerful man, and considered himself judge and jury. Like you said—a Godfather type” His arms dropped to his sides. He looked at Rayna and Trent. Fury shot from his eyes. “He’s hurt an awful lot of people. Someone had to stop him.”

Rayna’s eyes widened. She glanced at Trent then back at Louis. “You? Oh, Louis,
you
stopped him?”

When he didn’t answer, Rayna shivered. So much for her family.

Chapter 11

Rayna stood in the kitchen, looking out the back door. After yesterday’s commotion, she realized how much she might be hated by those who knew her father. Was it even safe to live in Oklahoma City and carry the name Mudwing? Not that she’d ever use that name. Ever.

She turned as the coffee pot beeped that the hot liquid was ready. She poured a cup, added some almond milk, then leaned against the counter and sipped. She heard Trent slam through the front door. She believed she’d recognize his footsteps among hundreds, but she knew that was a fanciful thought. They weren’t finished itemizing antiques or going through the house, but she suspected she’d never keep him from selling it now. He was probably ready to get away from her and Tiva and the Oklahoma Mudwing family. She didn’t blame him, but she’d miss him.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking as if he’d been running. His dark brown hair was askew, his face flushed.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.

“You’re a mind reader now?” She smiled to soften her words.

“Doesn’t take much mind reading to figure it out. You’re thinking way too hard. Trying to make everything fit into a logical pattern. You can’t do it. There’s no logic to any of this.” He moved toward her. “I won’t let you leave me, Rayna.”

“You know it’s for the best. For everyone, but especially you.”

“I know no such thing. I want you here. I need you.”