Maisy followed the dark vein that spilled like blood through the center of the cross and tears filled her eyes. She was surprised. She thought she had cried all her tears out after Sawyer left her trailer yesterday. Obviously not. She blinked them back, but Emma must’ve seen them because she reached across the counter and squeezed Maisy’s arm.
“I’m so sorry about your father,” she said. “This will be a wonderful tribute to him.”
“Her father?” Boone looked confused. “This isn’t for her daddy. It’s for her dog.”
Emma rolled her eyes and ignored him as she continued to speak to Maisy. “It’s a lovely cross. Boone might be a horrible businessman, but he’s an excellent carpenter. I know your daddy is looking down from heaven right now and smiling.”
Maisy doubted heaven was where her daddy had landed, but she kept that to herself and nodded. “Thank you. How much do I owe you, Boone?”
Boone didn’t seem to hear her. He was too busy staring at Emma. “Did you just give me a compliment?” When Emma didn’t reply, he grinned. “Yep, it was a compliment.” He turned to Maisy. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could,” Emma said. “Boone is a real cheapskate so when he offers a gift, you better take it. Call it a goodbye gift. Although I’m sure sorry to hear that you’re leaving. I know the whole town will agree. We were all hoping you’d make Simple your home.”
Again the stupid tears welled and Maisy was getting darn sick of being a watering pot. She would miss Simple. She’d been in a lot of towns, but this one with its kind-hearted people had wiggled its way into her heart. She would’ve loved to call the town home. That couldn’t happen now. Once the townsfolk heard about the prank she’d played on Sawyer, they would hate her as much as he did and assume she was just like her daddy.
“Thank you, Emma,” she said. “But the road is home for a saddle bronc rider like me. Now I better get going.”
“Let me help you get this to your truck,” Boone said.
Maisy picked up the cross before he could. “No, thank you. I got it.”
Boone hurried around the counter and held the door open for her. Before the door closed behind her, she heard Emma speak. “Occasionally, I think you might actually have a heart, Boone Murphy. But only occasionally.”
Not wanting everyone in town to see the cross she carried, Maisy held it close to her chest and hurried to her truck. But she should’ve known that, in Simple, it was impossible to go unnoticed. As soon as she slammed the tailgate and came around the side of her truck, she spotted Miss Gertie standing on the sidewalk with her hot pink walker. Her cat, Rhett Butler, was sitting in the basket on the front, grooming himself.
“I guess that’s for your daddy,” Miss Gertie said.
There was no use lying when Emma and Boone would probably spread the news about foolish Maisy Sweeney wanting a grave marker for a father she didn’t even know.
“Yes, ma’am,” Maisy said.
Miss Gertie nodded. “Everyone deserves to be remembered.”
“I’m afraid my daddy will only be remembered as a mean-spirited, angry man.”
Miss Gertie snorted. “I expect when I die there will be some folks who say I was a mean, crotchety old woman. And they’d be right. But some folks will remember good things about me. Everyone has a little good in them. I remember your daddy. He sure wasn’t a saint, but he always greeted me politely and held open doors for me. I’m sure there were other good things he did.”
Once again Maisy’s eyes filled with tears. “My mama sure thought he was a good man. She only remembers the good times she had with my daddy. She never spoke a mean a word about him. Not even when he left her high and dry right after I was born.”
“Your mama sounds like the kind of woman who knows how to love.” Miss Gertie pulled a tissue out of the sleeve of her dress and held it out. When Maisy walked over to get the tissue, the old women pinned her with her piercing eyes. “And speaking of love. What happened between you and Sawyer Dawson? I thought you were another woman that fell under a bad boy’s spell, but then Dixie Leigh told me you were leaving. I’m going to assume you’re not pregnant.”
She shook her head. “No, ma’am. And I never was. It was all a misunderstanding.”
Miss Gertie snorted. “With the gossipy people in this town, I can imagine how things got misunderstood. But I know a guilty looking bad boy when I see one and Sawyer looked guilty as sin when I confronted him about you.”
“He thought he was guilty, but he really wasn’t. It’s complicated.”
Miss Gertie turned her walker around and headed to a nearby bench. She sat down and patted the spot next to her. “Well, come on then. You can’t expect me to stand on my feet while you tell me a long, complicated story. Seeing as how Reba has gotten busy at the boardinghouse—or with that bad boy husband of hers—and forgotten to pick me up again, I’ve got plenty of time to kill.”
Maisy wanted to make a mad dash for her truck. She didn’t want to tell Miss Gertie what had happened between her and Sawyer. She was hoping to be long gone when the news spread about what she’d done. But when the old woman gave her a narrowed-eyed look, Maisy realized she had little choice. Like a kid called before the principal, she walked over and sat down. She figured it was best to just come out with it.
She proceeded to tell Miss Gertie the entire story. When she was finished, she sighed. “So as you can see, I’m just as mean-spirited as my daddy.” She expected Miss Gertie to give her a thorough lecture on lying. Instead, she only shook her head.
“That is a fine kettle of fish you got yourself into with your lie, but it sounds like you had good reasons to keep it going. The main one being that you didn’t want Sawyer to hate you for taking him away from something he loves. I figure even then you were starting to love him.”
“But if I hadn’t lied, he wouldn’t hate me.”
“If you hadn’t lied, Sawyer would’ve gone on avoiding you to uphold some silly oath he made to Lincoln.” Miss Gertie shook her head. “And men complain about women butting their noses into other people’s business. If Lincoln had kept his nose out of things, I figure you and Sawyer would’ve gotten together at the wedding. I saw how you two were looking at each other that night.”
Miss Gertie was probably right, and Maisy couldn’t help being a little annoyed at Lincoln. If he had stayed out of it, maybe Sawyer wouldn’t hate her. Maybe they would have had a chance for a happily ever after.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she said. “There’s no way to go back and change things. Sawyer hates me for lying to him and for telling everyone about what the doctor said.”
“If I have the choice between hate and indifference, I’ll choose hate every time,” Miss Gertie said. “Hate is just the other side of love. If you don’t care about someone, you can’t really hate them. Lucas and I hated each other for a long time, not because we didn’t like each other, but because our egos wouldn’t let us apologize and forgive. It sounds like Sawyer is pretty ticked off at you. Why would he be so ticked off if he didn’t care? If he didn’t have feelings for you, he would’ve been thrilled that he wasn’t going to be a daddy and he hadn’t broken his best friend’s trust. Instead, he told you he never wanted to see you again. That’s a pretty intense statement for someone who doesn’t care.”