looked at him then, her blue eyes sharpening behind the horn-rimmed glasses. “You know my sister?”
He stepped around the door and braced a hand along its top. “No. Not personally.”
She gulped and turned her face away to stare through the windshield, her skin paler now, the knuckles on the hand she gripped the steering wheel with a pearly white. “I haven’t seen her in years. She—” She clamped her lips together and angled her head, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Did she send you? Is she in trouble again?”
Woodrow blew out a long breath, unsure how best to proceed. “No. Well,” he amended, frowning, “I wouldn’t call it trouble exactly.”
“If it’s money she wants,” she told him coolly, “you can tell her she can come and ask for it herself.”
“No, ma’am,” he said, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. “She doesn’t need your money.”
“Well, what does she want?” she snapped impatiently. “That’s usually why she contacts me.”
“Well…she…she…” He scowled, trying to think of a gentler way to deliver the news. Unable to think of anything, other than the bald truth, he muttered glumly, “Ma’am, your sister is dead.”
The blood drained from her face. “Dead? My sister is dead?”
His expression grim, he gave his chin a jerk. “Yeah. A little over a month ago.”
She pressed her fingers against her lips. “Dead,” she said again.
Woodrow saw that her chin was trembling, watched the slow swell of tears in her eyes. “Yeah. You see, Star, she—”
She whipped her head around. “Star? My sister’s name isn’t Star. It’s Renee. Renee Montgomery.” Weak with relief, she dropped her forehead against the steering wheel. “Oh, thank God. For a minute there, I thought Renee was—” She stopped midsentence, then jerked up her head and pressed her lips tightly together. “I’m sorry,” she said as she pushed the key into the ignition. “Obviously, you’ve made a mistake. Now, I really must be going.”
When she reached for the door again, Woodrow blocked her way. “Wait.” He dug the picture Ace had given him from his pocket and held it out. “Is this your sister?”
She pushed his hand away without so much as a glance. “I’m sorry. Really I am. But obviously you’ve made a mistake. My sister’s name is Renee, not Star.”
He thrust the picture in front of her face. “Just take a look.”
She gave him an impatient look, then snatched the picture from his hand and held it at arm’s length in order to better see it. Woodrow watched her facial muscles go slack, saw the tremble that began in her fingers.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.” She turned to look at him, her eyes round with disbelief. “Where did you get this?”
“Maggie Dean. Maggie Tanner now, since she and my brother Ace got married. She worked with Star.”
“Not Star,” she told him and lifted the picture to look at it again. She placed a hand at the base of her throat and rubbed. “Renee. Renee Montgomery.”
Woodrow hunkered down beside the car, putting himself on her level. “Look,” he said quietly. “I know this has probably come as a shock, and I’m sorry that I had to dump this on you so unexpectedly, but there’s more.”
“More?” she repeated, then laughed, the sound hollow and empty to his ears. “What more could you possibly have to tell me, other than my sister is dead?”
Woodrow shifted on the balls of his feet, knowing he had to handle this carefully. Not for himself so much as for Ace and Maggie. “Well,” he began. “You see, Star, I mean Renee,” he corrected. “Well, she had a baby.”
She stared. “A baby?”
He nodded. “Yeah. A girl.”
“But…where is she?”
“With Ace and Maggie. Before Renee died, she made Maggie promise that she’d give the baby to the baby’s father.”
“Ace is the father of my sister’s child?”
Woodrow blew out a long breath. This was getting tougher, instead of easier. “No. Not Ace. Ace’s father. Our father,” he clarified, scowling. “Buck Tanner. He fathered the kid.”
She pressed two fingers to her temple, as if pushing back a headache. “But why does Ace have the baby and not your father?”
“Because my father’s dead. Heart attack. Just a couple of days after Renee died.”
She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “Any of it.”
“It’s the truth,” Woodrow assured her. “Every last word. I swear.”
She sat there as still as death, not saying a word. Knowing it was now or never, he scooted closer. “We’re still wrangling with all the legal stuff. Ace hired a private detective to track down Renee’s family, which is how we found out about you. Ace and Maggie, they want to adopt the baby. That’s why I’m here. To get your approval.”
She dropped her chin, shaking her head. “No.” She gulped. “I can’t talk about this right now. It’s too much to absorb. Too fast. I need time to think.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God. Renee.”
Though time was the last thing Woodrow wanted to give her, he pushed to his feet. “I’ll be staying in town overnight.” He fished a gas receipt from his pocket and scrawled a number on the back. “Here’s my cell phone number,” he said, and tossed the paper onto her lap. “Give me a call, when you’re ready to talk.”
Still numb from learning of her sister’s death, that evening Elizabeth stood before her breakfast room window, her arms hugged around her waist. Beyond the glass a hummingbird flitted from bloom to bloom in the garden, seeking nectar, while two squirrels played chase along the top rail of her wrought-iron fence. Behind her, Ted Scott, her fiancé, sat at her kitchen table. Though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed his disapproval. It pressed down on her shoulders like a heavy cloak, adding to the sorrow already weighing her down.
“I know you’re upset,” he said, in a obvious struggle for patience. “I can understand that. But it would be ridiculous for us to cancel our trip now. Not after all the plans we’ve made. Besides, it isn’t as if you have a funeral to arrange or anything. That’s all been done.”
Tears swelled in Elizabeth’s eyes at the mention of the funeral. She’d lost her sister and hadn’t even been allowed at the funeral to mourn her passing. Didn’t even know where Renee had been buried or who had made the arrangements.
Oh, God, she wanted to cry so badly. Wanted to empty her heart and soul of all the grief and regrets that choked her. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently willed Ted to come to her. To wrap his arms around her and just hold her. Comfort her. Just once she wanted him to respond to her emotional needs, instead of stifling them.
