The Maverick's Return

“Same thing, puddin’,” Anne told her daughter affectionately. “Now go,” she said, pointing toward the rear of the house where Janie’s room was located, “and don’t come back until you’ve finished doing it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Janie sighed with a pout. Turning, she dragged her feet as she went to her room.

“She looks like you.”

So worried that he’d see himself in their daughter, Anne didn’t hear him at first. And then his words replayed themselves in her head. She turned around to face Danny, a little stunned.

“What?”

“I said she looks like you.” There was no missing the fondness in his voice. Or the wistfulness. “A miniature carbon copy of what you looked like at that age. She’s what, about nine, right?”

Nine would make her safe, Anne thought. If Danny thought that Janie was nine, then he’d definitely believe that the little girl was Hank’s daughter and that would be that. Fear of discovery would be taken off the table once and for all.

But saying yes would be lying, Anne thought and somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to lie to Danny after all these years.

The word stuck in her throat like a fishbone that had been accidentally swallowed.

Rather than say yes or no, Anne focused on something else he had just said. “You really think she looks like me?”

“Absolutely,” he assured her. “Right down to her stubborn streak.”

“What does a stubborn streak look like?” Anne asked wryly.

Dan smiled at her, fighting a very strong desire to touch her. Not in the intimate way he used to—after all, she was another man’s wife now—but just to put his hand on her shoulder, to connect with her for the smallest of moments.

“I’m looking at it right now,” he told Annie. And then his smile faded as he grew serious. “When you opened the door just now, you asked me what I was doing here.”

Anne inclined her head, slightly embarrassed. “Not exactly the politest way to greet someone after twelve years,” she admitted, then went on to say, “but in my defense, you did catch me by surprise.”

Lord, but she looked good, he couldn’t help thinking, all but devouring her with his eyes. “You know, I didn’t exactly tell you the truth when I said I was in the neighborhood.”

“I had my suspicions,” she replied with a soft laugh. Rust Creek Falls was in no one’s neighborhood. “So why are you here?” she asked.

Dan cleared his voice before saying, “I came to apologize for leaving you the way I did.”

Stunned by his admission, Anne looked at the man she had once thought of as the love of her life. It took her more than a moment to find her tongue.

“You know, over the last dozen years, I must have imagined this scene a hundred different ways. The only thing all those scenes had in common, besides your apology, was that I always felt relieved when I heard you apologize. I felt somehow vindicated.

“But I’m not vindicated, not relieved,” she told him with feeling. “I’m just...sad, I guess. Sad about all the years in between that were lost. Why did you leave like that?”

Dan shook his head. That was something he didn’t want to get into. It was a secret he would most likely take to his grave rather than burden someone else with.

“I didn’t have a choice,” was all he allowed himself to say.

Anne frowned ever so slightly. That excuse just didn’t hold any water for her. “Everyone always has a choice,” she told him.

“I didn’t,” he replied.

There had to be more, something he wasn’t telling her. “But—”

Dan changed the subject. “I also wanted to tell you that I’m happy for you.”

For a moment, still trying to understand what Danny wasn’t telling her, she was caught off guard. His last words completely confused her.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m happy for you,” Danny repeated. “Happy that you’ve moved on. That you found someone you cared about and got married. That you went on to have a beautiful daughter.”

She’s your beautiful daughter, she thought, an unexpected wave of anger filling her.

Anne continued staring at him. “You’re happy for me,” she repeated in disbelief, like someone who didn’t quite understand the gist of the words she was saying.

Dan nodded, forcing a smile to his lips. “Yes, I am.”

Did he even have a clue how much it stung to hear him say that to her? How much it actually physically tore her apart?

Why didn’t you come back to me? Why didn’t you show up on my doorstep years ago and tell me that you couldn’t bear to live without me? Why did you just vanish out of my life without a trace, leaving me to face being pregnant all by myself?

But she couldn’t say any of that, couldn’t risk him knowing the truth, at least not yet. Perhaps not ever. There were other people to consider.

So, instead, she asked, “Where were you all these years?”

Anne struggled to keep the accusation out of her voice, doing her best to sound like just an old friend trying to catch up with another old friend instead of a spurned lover who’d given her heart away and had it torn in two more than a decade ago.