Jake (Men of Clifton Montana Book 1) by Susan Fisher-Davis Page B

point.
It was over between them.
    Becca jumped when
the phone rang. Slowly, she reached for it and looked at the screen. Steve’s
name appeared. She felt sick. Pressing her lips together, she turned it off. Tomorrow
she would call Olivia and let her know about Steve. Becca was certain he’d go
to the coffee shop and try to get Olivia to tell Becca to call him. She
shivered. He’d definitely frightened her. His insistence gave her a bad
feeling.
    As the storm raged
outside, Becca added more logs to the fire. She would sleep in the living room
again, just in case the power went out. Spring couldn’t get here soon enough.
    The next day, Becca
decided it was time to bag up Hattie’s clothes and shoes. She planned to take
them into town and have Emma help her with giving them away. She was sure Emma
would know who would want them and if no one did, she’d donate them to a local
charity. Taking a deep breath, she started with the dresser. It was mostly
underwear, T-shirts, and sweatshirts. After emptying that, she went to the
closet and pulled the dresses from the hangers, adding them to the bag.
    Becca ran her hand
along the shelf, found a box there, and dragged it down. She took it to the bed
and opened it. What she saw inside made her breath catch. It was full of
pictures. Pictures of herself as a child, from the time of her birth up until
the year her parents had died.
    Where had these
come from? If Becca’s father hadn’t been in touch with Hattie, who had been?
The answer came when she turned one over and saw her mother’s handwriting. Becca - age six. Her mother had been the
one to keep in touch with Hattie. It was incomprehensible. Had her father
known?
    Becca continued
going through the box. Her school pictures were there, all the way through to
graduation. Snapshots of her at home, playing outside, or sitting on her parents’
laps. She remembered all of them. She ran her finger over her mother’s writing.
    Memories and
questions were running through her head when she heard Stan calling her name so
she walked downstairs with the box in her hands. Stan smiled at her, but when
he saw the tears on her cheeks, his smile faded.
    “Is something
wrong?”
    Becca shook her
head and handed him the box. Stan lifted the lid, and he blew out a long breath
when he saw the pictures. Becca looked at him.
    “You knew about
this?” Her voice trembled. He didn’t answer. “Stan, please.”
    “Yes. I knew your
mother kept in touch with Hattie. It wasn’t just the pictures. Sarah called
Hattie, at least once a month.” He took a deep breath. “And she sent pictures
all the time.”
    Becca practically
collapsed onto a kitchen chair. Sadness for the time that was lost made her
heart ache . “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    Stan pulled out a
chair and sat down. “I wanted to. I just didn’t know how.”
    “What happened
between my father and Hattie? I want to know, Stan.” Touching the pictures,
Becca wished she could turn back the clock. Thoughts of what might have been
haunted her.
    “Just what happens
at a lot of family ranches, Hattie wanted her son to take over, and he didn’t
want this life. Your father made a lot of money in real estate, and he wanted
to travel. You and your parents went all over the world.” He picked up a
picture of her, at age five, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. “The three
of you lived here on the ranch until you were three years old. That’s when the
big argument happened. I knew when your dad came back from college that he was
different. The ranch didn’t mean as much to him anymore. He’d gotten a taste of
the big city life.”
    “I wish I could
remember. Truthfully, I can’t imagine either Mom or Dad here.”    
    Stan reached for
her hand and squeezed it. “Your mom was born and raised on a farm outside of
Clifton. She met William when she was fifteen and fell in love. He loved her,
too but being nineteen and in college, she was too young. After college, he
came home and