drew his attention to the road. Tim Cooper. Yeah, they’d have to face each other sooner or later. They hadn’t talked since the day Jeremy learned the truth. The day Tim Cooper wrote him a check, because it was the right thing to do.
Jeremy opened the door on the passenger side of the truck. Jane wobbled and her legs buckled. When he tried to lift her up she swatted at his hands.
It took a few minutes but he got her in the seat and buckled up. They headed down the road, toward Back Street but then turned east. The paved country road led to a tiny trailer surrounded by farmland. It had two bedrooms and a front porch that was falling in. More than once he’d tried to get her to move. But this was her house and she didn’t want his money.
It was the only thing she’d ever owned. This trailer was her legacy. He shook his head as he drove down the road. He thought about how he’d envied the Coopers and their big old ranch house.
His mom choked a little and leaned. Great. Her body went limp and she fell sideways. He eased into the driveway of the trailer and pulled the emergency brake. He put the windows down and waited while she got sick on the floor of the truck.
Maybe they would head for the hospital. He pulled her back in the seat and wiped her mouth with the handkerchief he pulled out of his pocket. “Mom, are you with me?”
She shook her head and mumbled that he was as worthless as his father. Yeah, she was with him. He shifted into reverse and glanced in his rearview window. A blue truck pulled in behind him. Great, what he didn’t need was a big dose of sympathy in brown eyes that dragged his heart places he didn’t want to go.
But that’s what he was about to get.
“Leave me here,” his mom mumbled without moving from her prone position on the seat next to him.
“I can’t leave you here. You need help.”
“Since when do you care?”
“I don’t know, since forever, I guess.” And he’d proven it time and again. His mom passed out as Beth rapped on his driver’s side window.
Beth shouldn’t have stopped but she’d seen Jeremy’s truck at the police station. She’d watched in her rearview mirror as he helped his mother down the sidewalk. For a few minutes she’d listened to the smart Beth who insisted she should drive on home and forget it. But the other Beth had insisted she put her heart on the line. And that’s why she was looking through the window of his truck into eyes that were slightly lost and a lot angry.
His window slid down. “Imagine seeing you here.”
“I thought you might need help.”
“No, we’re fine. I’m taking her to the hospital.”
In the seat next to him his mother made a grunting sound that resembled a negative response. Obviously she didn’t want Beth around and she wasn’t interested in going to the hospital.
“Do you want me to ride over there with you?” She regretted the words the minute they were out. No one in their right mind would volunteer. But she had gone and done it.
His mother leaned to the floor again. Jeremy groaned and reached in the backseat of the truck for a towel that he tossed on the floor. “You wouldn’t happen to have a bag or a bucket in your truck, would you?”
“Give me a sec and I’ll check.” Beth hurried back to her truck. She pushed through the contents in the toolbox in the bed of her truck and found a small bucket, a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of window cleaner.
She returned to the passenger side of Jeremy’s truck and opened the door slowly, carefully. Jane Hightree was passed out, leaning toward her son. Beth handed him the bucket and then she sprayed the floor down and covered it with paper towels.
“Beth, you don’t have to do this.” His voice was quiet and a little tight with emotion. She glanced up as she pulled on leather gloves.
“I don’t mind. I’m good at cleaning up messes.”
“Yeah, well, I usually clean up my own messes.”
She ignored him and cleaned, tossing it all in a bag she’d pulled out from under her truck seat.
“I appreciate the help.” Jeremy reached for the passenger seat belt, pulling it around his mother, even though she remained prone on the seat. “I’m going to take her to Grove.”
“Do you want me to go?”
He shook his head and then looked up, smiling at Beth. “I can handle this, but thank you.” He released the emergency brake and his hand went to the gearshift.
She nodded. “Let me know what happens with your mom.”
“I’ll do that.”
Beth closed the door and walked back to her own truck. As she climbed behind the wheel he backed out of the drive and headed down the highway. Beth went the opposite direction, toward her brother’s house because being strong on her own wasn’t easy. When she’d confronted Jeremy at Back Street Church she had meant to talk him out of something, not put herself in his life. She had to keep her focus on what was important. The goal wasn’t to get tangled up in his life, it was to save the church.
Chapter Three
Beth finished her phone call and sat down at the table with a cup of coffee. After helping Jeremy with his mother the previous evening, she’d had a long talk with her brother Jason about ways to save Back Street Church. Thanks to his wife Alyson they had a very clear idea of how to accomplish their goal. They’d learned that the building had turned 100 the previous year.
They were still digging but it was possible the building could be saved by having it listed on an historical registry. The phone call Beth had made would set the plan in motion.
And she didn’t know how she felt about what she’d done. As much as she didn’t want the church torn down, she also didn’t want to hurt Jeremy.
It seemed that no matter what, someone would get hurt. Either Jeremy or the people in town who cared about the future of the church. He had plans for a business. Beth saw the church as a connection to her mother. Others in town had similar stories and reasons for wanting the building to remain standing.
She took a sip of her coffee and reached for the box sitting on the table in front of her.
Her dad had finally given it to her the previous evening after she’d gotten home from visiting Jason and Alyson. Now that she had it, though, she didn’t know what to do with it. She’d left it sitting on her dresser last night, untouched. Thirty minutes ago she had carried it into the kitchen. She’d been staring at it while she ate her cereal and then made the phone call to the historical society.
She let out a shallow, shaky breath and reached for the box. It was just a plain metal box. Her mother had intended for her to have this eighteen years ago. Eighteen long years, with so many mistakes, so much heart-ache in between.
Would her life have been different if her mother had lived? Would Beth have made different choices, taken a different path? Those were questions that would never have answers.
She lifted
