Winter's Secret (30 page)

Needing to get away, Wendy nodded and led him to the church kitchen. As they left the room, Pastor Bruce quietly awarded Mrs. Benser's housecleaning to Clyde for two hundred and fifty dollars and began the bidding on Trav's offer to cut someone's grass for the coming summer.

Her emotions still in turmoil, Wendy concentrated on pouring Rodd a cup of cinnamon-fragrant spiced cider and cutting him a piece of pumpkin pie. She kept her eyes forward. "Do you want whipped topping?"

Coming up behind Wendy, he took the spoon from her hand and put it back in the open whipped-topping container. "What was that woman doing here?"

Wendy wouldn't meet his eyes. "She was just being Veda."

Turning her toward him, he lifted her chin. "What did she do? Did she hurt you?"

Quivering at his touch, she inhaled deeply to calm her shaking nerves. "She tried to get back at Mrs. Benser. "

"I take it that it didn't work." He pulled gently on her hands, tugging her into his arms.

"Rodd, we're at church," she objected, but she didn't pull away from his solid warmth.

"Is that all Veda did, try to intimidate Mrs. Benser? She didn't say anything directly to you, did she?"

His concern filled her with sunshine. She smiled and dipped her chin. "I'm fine. Did Veda steal from the Bazaar?""

He started to answer her but stopped himself. "You need to talk to Mrs. Benser about that. I've missed you." Parting her bangs, he kissed her forehead.

She blushed. "Someone might walk in," she whispered.

He shook his head. "Veda left. No one else would be so unkind."

Wendy looked up at him. "Veda didn't bother you with that remark about your investigation, did she?"

A smile lit his eyes. "I bothered her today."

"You did? How?"

He kissed her nose.

At his soft touch, she had trouble paying attention.

He ignored her question. "My deputies are all out. I just checked all the trouble spots, and I think I can see the new year in with you. Let's not spoil what's left of the evening discussing Veda McCracken."

Forcing herself to put Veda's unpleasantness behind her, she smiled. "If that's what you want." She wanted to ask him not to show everyone that their relationship had changed over Christmas, but she couldn't do that. He'd kissed her and taken her into his confidence about the past. But what did that mean to him, to her? Was she ready to make a change in the single life she'd planned? Or had the change already taken place and was she just realizing it? She let out a deep sigh "We'd better go back in before someone comes to get us."

"If you insist." He kissed her cheek and then picked up his pie and cider.

With a silly grin she couldn't wipe off her face, she led him back to the table where she'd been sitting. Her grin withered as she felt the unspoken attention of everyone as she and Rodd sat down together. What would everyone think?

Then she noticed that Bruno and Ma were holding hands as they watched the auction move toward the midnight celebration. Smiling inside, she glanced at her sister and Trav, who were also holding hands.

As she observed the young couple, Trav sent a resentful glare to Rodd. The look was so unexpected and out of character that she couldn't look away. Trav never got upset. In fact, his gentle nature was one of his most endearing traits. Was it just the sheriff or was Trav upset in general? She studied her sister's boyfriend from under her lashes. No, the signs were unmistakable. Trav fidgeted and couldn't keep himself from sending heated glances toward the sheriff.

Sipping his cider and letting it warm him inside, Rodd scanned the lively excitement of bidders, a complete contrast to his last few tense days—since the anonymous phone call. The caller ID at his home had given him the phone number, but it had led him to a dead end, a pay phone at the truck stop just across the county line. Of course, after a day crowded and busy with stranded truckers and travelers, no one there had any information to give him.

What had the caller meant about checking the snowmobiles? Rodd had scrutinized the machines belonging to the three main suspects— Elroy, Dutch, and Veda—and many more besides. Then he started calling people in for questioning. Nothing. He'd delayed doing any formal questioning before now, preferring to ask questions in passing. But he'd decided leaning on people might shake things up, bring something to light.

It hadn't. He was no further ahead tonight than he'd been before the anonymous phone call. The caller's voice had sounded like a man, but some women, including Veda, had deep voices. And the caller had taken care to disguise and muffle his voice.

A break. One little break was all Rodd needed to catch the thief. His only hope remained that the anonymous caller had been the Weasel himself and that he would become increasingly overconfident and give himself away. Galling as that was, it was all he could hope for now. Rodd glanced around the room, then at his watch. Ten minutes to the new year

Pastor Bruce turned to Harlan. "How are we doing?"

"Almost one thousand dollars." Harlan beamed.

"Then let's see how close we can get to twelve hundred by midnight." The pastor's words were greeted with shouts of encouragement.

Pastor Bruce went on. "Our next item is free baby-sitting, not to exceed ten hours a month, for a year from the lovely Carey sisters, Wendy and Sage. Who will open the bidding?"

Rodd sipped the sweet cider and wished he'd had time to take Wendy out this week. But their schedules hadn't coincided in the days after Christmas. Still, she'd popped into his thoughts at will. He'd never thought that in moving back to Steadfast he'd fall in love. Had he found in Wendy his wife? Only time would tell. He glanced at his watch again; the final minutes of this year were ticking away.

Two mothers refused to give up competing for the prize. They bid fast and furiously until one dropped out at seventy-eight dollars. "Thai's a bargain. Ladies, are the rest of you going to let this go for this price?" Pastor scanned the audience. "Going once, twice, sold!"

"It's New Year's!" Patsy called out.

Shouts of "Happy New Year" broke out all over the room. People stood up and hugged each other. "Auld Lang Syne" was sung. Rodd took Wendy's hand and pulled her close. "Happy New Year, Wendy."

She smiled up at him, filled with such joy. "I wish you the very best in the coming year."

"The same to you " And then he kissed her.

Wendy knew she should pull away, but she found it impossible to do. She clung to him, welcoming the feeling of being wanted by such a fine man. Rodd ended their kiss but kept her tucked close at his side. Wendy felt like she was floating.
Lord, I never felt this way before. Do you have a different plan for my future than I do?

A storm in her eyes, Sage came around the table as Trav stalked away, giving Wendy and Rodd a wide berth. Sage glared at Rodd. "Wendy, Trav and I are going to the trailer." Over the surrounding gaiety, Sage's harsh voice didn't even sound like her. "He's not in the mood for more festivities tonight. We wouldn't have come, but I wanted to be here when they auctioned off our baby-sitting."

"What's wrong with Trav?" Wendy asked, glancing at Trav, who was waiting by the door.

"Ask your boyfriend," Sage snapped and marched away.

Chapter Eighteen

In the early frigid hours of the new year, Rodd parked his Jeep outside Wendy's trailer, right beside Trav's battered pickup. He glanced sideways at Wendy, sitting in the seat beside him. He couldn't believe the complete turnaround that had taken place between Wendy and him—all in a matter of moments. The joy he'd felt sitting beside Wendy at the auction, kissing her at midnight, letting everyone know he thought Wendy was wonderful—it was all gone. Now the only warmth in the Jeep was coming from the heater vents. "I don't know what to say ..."

"That's the truth."

He wouldn't have believed that Wendy could sound so stiff, so crushed.
I hurt her. But how
? Even after Veda's disruption of the auction, Wendy hadn't remained distressed. That changed when Sage had told Wendy to ask him why Trav was upset.

"I can't believe you called Trav in and questioned him about the burglaries," Wendy repeated.

Rodd had tried but failed twice to explain his actions and the reasoning behind them. How could he make her understand that part of his job was being unpopular at times? He had to do whatever it took to catch the burglar. He would use any lawful means to achieve that goal, including questioning Sage's boyfriend. He took a deep breath. "I questioned a lot of people. It's a technique to shake things up—to get people to talk—"

"People will talk all right." Wendy turned on him. "All his life, Trav's had to live down his family's reputation, which is even worse than my mother's family's. Did you know that Elroy almost forced himself on my mother once? Uncle Dutch came just in time to save her—but everyone knew. That's why they hate each other."

Rodd tried to sort through the emotions in Wendy's words. Why was she taking this so personally? "But I didn't charge Trav with anything," he explained patiently. "And I thought his uncle might say something if I questioned his nephew, let something slip. If you rattle people, they talk."

"With that line of reasoning, you should have called me in and questioned me. Then Uncle Dutch could have been rattled. You did question my uncle, didn't you?" She gave him a fierce look.

"Yes." How would she react to that? Would this make things even worse?

"So did Elroy say anything? Did he?" Wendy asked, her head turned away from him.

"No." No one had said anything worth listening to.

"Elroy never says anything and he does less," Wendy snapped. "He's been an albatross around Trav's neck his whole life. Poor Trav lost his parents in a drunk-driving accident when he was five. His poor indigent grandmother has struggled to raise him alone. ..."

Rodd decided to try one more time. "Wendy, I'm sorry. This will all blow over as soon as I've arrested the thief. Everyone knows what a good kid Trav is."

Wendy wiped her eyes with her gloved fingers. "You just don't understand what you've done, do you? You don't know what Trav has had to go through to build his good reputation." She let herself out of the Jeep and ran up the steps into her trailer, the tinny sound of the metal steps ringing in the silent hour.

"She's right," Rodd spoke to his windshield as he drove away. "I don't understand."

Wendy rushed inside, fighting the tears.
Lord, he doesn't understand me at all. He doesn't understand what it's like to work your whole life to establish a good reputation. He doesn't know what it's like for people to look at you as though you're trash—poor white trash. He's a Durand—how could he know how a Rieker or a Dietz feels?

In the darkened room lit only by the small lights on the Christmas tree, Sage and Trav sat on the sofa.

At the sight of them holding hands and looking so downhearted, Wendy burst into tears. What could she say to them? She'd made no headway with the sheriff at all.

Sage hurried to her side. "Don't cry, Wendy. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm just so ...sorry...." All the turmoil from the long evening finally pushed her over the edge. She couldn't stop the tears.

Trav came beside her and patted her on the back. "Please don't cry, Wendy. It's not your fault. How could the sheriff understand how we feel? He's never had people talking behind his back like the three of us have."

But he has. Cram
and Veda have done their best to make his life miserable.
Wendy couldn't verbalize these thoughts to Sage or Trav. Rodd wouldn't like it; he didn't want anyone to know that the gossip and rumors bothered him. Wendy sank down into the chair by the couch, next to the small tabletop Christmas tree.

"I should go home. I promised Gram I'd be home by one. She worries." Trav put his arms around Sage. "But I hate to leave you." He brushed away the hair from her face and leaned his cheek against hers.

"It's all right," Sage assured him. "Wendy and I'll be fine. We always have been. Trav, I'm going to tell her. She should know. I told Mom and I've waited too long as it is."

Trav nodded.

Sage moved the few steps to Wendy's chair and knelt in front of her. "Trav and I are getting married right after graduation this spring."

Wendy couldn't find her voice.
Get
married right out of high school? Just like their mother. No.

In the chilly entryway between the outer and inner doors to the clinic's emergency room, Rodd faced Wendy.

"Rodd, I just can't think right now."

Wendy's tired, flat voice made him ache. Two days had passed since New Year's Eve and in those two days, he'd tried to reconnect with her—but in vain. He had to try once more to get her to reveal what was troubling her.

Was it just his questioning Trav or something more? The way she stood there with her arms wrapped defensively around her cut him deep. Was she warding off the cold? or protecting herself from him? His arms ached to pull her close and warm her within his embrace. But her stiffened, wary stance warned him away. "What is it, Wendy?"