The Coldwater Warm Hearts Club (8 page)

Chapter 8
Watching someone you love continue to destroy your
life together is like being stuck on a runaway roller coaster.
You thought the ride was going to be a thrill when
it started, but after a while, all you want is off.
 
—Anne Littlefield Scott, mother of Carson forever. Wife of Daniel, for now.
 
 
D
an shifted his weight from one foot to the other in front of the screen door. His mother-in-law, Celia Hatton, was in no hurry to let him in.
“Carson is still down for his nap,” she whispered, finally flipping the hook that held the door shut and motioning for him to enter. The scowl on her face was enough to stop most men in their tracks.
It didn't matter. Daniel would walk through fire for his boy. Even a smoke-belching she-dragon like Celia couldn't burn him as much as his own conscience did.
“Is Anne here?” He closed the door behind himself as softly as he could.
“She's over at Walmart,” Celia said. “They called her back for an interview. If she gets the job, she'll be working at the jewelry counter.” The woman made a
tsking
noise. “Lookin' at all those pretty things every day and can't afford a one of them.”
Daniel's gut cramped. He didn't want his wife to work. Not that she couldn't, of course. She'd been the county dispatcher when they'd first met and did a bang-up job of it, too. But once Carson came along, they'd made the joint decision that one of them should stay home with him. Since Daniel made more money, Anne happily took baby duty.
Now it grated on his soul that she felt she had to leave their boy and return to a job. A man took care of his family, but after what had happened, Anne wasn't willing to take a chance on his being able to provide for them anymore. But no matter how he felt about it, he had to say something positive with his mother-in-law glaring at him.
“Walmart would be crazy not to hire her. She's so pretty, she'd be good for business.”
Celia narrowed her eyes and pursed her thin lips. “If she had a husband who knew how to take care of business, she'd be better off at home taking care of her boy, 'specially while he's so young.”
She could give stinging lessons to a wasp.

Our
boy,” Daniel corrected. “He's mine, too, you know.”
“I know well enough. Do you?” Celia said with a sniff. “Wish you'd a thought about Carson and Anne when it mighta made a difference.”
Daniel did, too. With all his heart. Even now, he didn't know how he'd let that poker game get so out of hand. He'd never lost more than a hundred dollars in a single game before. But on this particular night, he'd been on a hot streak. Stu Barger had brought some of his frat brothers down from Tulsa with fat wallets and pitifully easy tells. Dan had been winning for hours. So when someone suggested they throw out the table limit and let fly, he was all in.
He'd been holding a terrific hand, one of the best he'd seen all night. Four of a kind was almost a sure thing. If he'd taken that hefty pot, it would have been enough to remodel the little house his grandmother had left him. They could have turned the unfinished attic space into a new third bedroom and maybe added a second bath. Anne had been wanting to try for another baby, but as things stood, the place had seemed too small to grow their family in.
His four queens had winked at him as he scribbled out the IOU for the deed to the bungalow on Crepe Myrtle Street. Daniel tossed it onto the center of the table, certain he'd be tearing it up again in a second.
Then Stu Barger had laid down a small straight flush.
Daniel lost his house that night. And so much more.
His mother-in-law's lips tightened into a hard line and her nose wrinkled as if she'd smelled a particularly ripe poop. “Sit down there and I'll see if my grandson is stirring.”
He sank onto the chair she pointed to, the hard-backed straight one closest to the door. Even from the first, Celia had never thought much of him. She didn't believe he was worthy of her pretty daughter. Maybe she was right. Ever since middle school, Daniel had had to fight to rise above the stigma of being Lester Scott's son, the town drunk with an evil temper and heavy fists.
Now Daniel wasn't sure he was any better than his dad. After he'd lost the house he'd shared with Anne in that stupid poker game, Celia had good reason to be disgusted with him.
She couldn't blame him more than he blamed himself. He'd never lost control like that before, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. The compulsion to see that poker hand through, no matter what the cost, had been impossible to resist.
Celia came back into the room. “He's still sleeping like an angel, and I'll not have you disturbing him. Come back in an hour.”
“I can't.” Daniel would be manning the speed trap near the Talimena Byway by then. He didn't mind the boring assignment. He counted himself lucky to still have a job after the sheriff heard about his stupidity. “I'll be here tomorrow morning to see my boy.”
“Carson has a doctor's appointment at nine.”
Panic squeezed Daniel's chest. “He's not sick, is he?”
“No. He's just due for another shot. Measles, I think.”
“I'll be here to go with Anne.”
“Anne may be working at Walmart by then, please God,” Celia said, tossing her gaze heavenward for a moment.
Anne's stepfather worked for the town sanitation department. It was steady work, but her folks didn't have money to burn. Two extra mouths in the house hadn't made things easier for them or improved Celia's temper. Anne wouldn't take any money from Daniel, no matter how often he tried to press it on her.
“Don't know if Anne will be carrying Carson to the doctor or if I will,” Celia said as she opened the door, pointedly inviting him to leave.
“I'll take him. If my son is going to the doctor, so am I. You can both come if you want to,” Daniel said. No matter what Anne said, he was going to provide for Carson. If she wouldn't accept money, when he came in the morning he'd bring a bagful of groceries and diapers. Anne might refuse his help, but Celia wouldn't hesitate. She'd think it was owed.
Maybe that was the key. “Buttering the cow to get the calf,” his granddad would have called it. If he could somehow bring Celia around, Anne should be easy.
As he walked back toward the cruiser, Anne pulled up in her aging silver Taurus. Looking as pretty as ever in a black skirt and pale green sweater, she climbed out of the car. He loved to see her with her dark hair just so and a dab of makeup to put extra color on her cheeks. Daniel wished it was him she'd gotten dressed up for. When she saw him, a tightness gathered at the corners of her mouth.
Shades of Celia.
He shook that thought off. Anne was nothing like her mother. She was strong-minded, yes, but there wasn't a mean bone in her sweet body.
“Danny,” she said with a nod.
“Did you get the job?”
Anne shrugged. “Don't know. There were a lot of people applying. They said they'd be making their decision by the first of next week.”
Come back to me, Annie. I'll take care of you and our boy. I promise.
But he didn't say that. His wife was stubborn. Once Anne set her feet on a path, she was hard to turn. He'd have to come at her sideways.
“I dropped by to see Carson, but he's still napping,” Daniel said. “I hear he has a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. I'll come by to take you.”
“I don't think that's a good idea.”
“He's my son, too. It's my job to make sure he stays healthy.”
Her big brown eyes were sadder than a puppy that just piddled on the floor. Except he was the one who'd made the mess. His stupidity had yanked the roof from over his son's head. Anne's sadness cut him more than Celia's rant had. Unlike her mother, Anne could make a man feel like a worm without a word.
“I moved out of the house today,” he said to fill the void.
She nodded. The bungalow on Crepe Myrtle hadn't been much, but it was theirs free and clear. He mentally kicked his own butt up between his shoulder blades again. Losing a house in a card game was easily the dumbest thing a man could do.
“I rented a place over on Spruce Street.” It was a duplex instead of a house, but it had two bedrooms and a bath and a half. It would do until he got back on his feet again. “There's a little yard where we can put Carson's swing set. I know it's not as good as the house, but—”
“Do you think all I care about is that house?”
“Isn't that what this is about?”
Anne shook her head. “It's not about losing our home. It's about you not even stopping to think what might happen to Carson and me because you can't resist the turn of a card.”
“If I'd won, you'd have been happy enough. We could have—”
“No.” She started walking toward the door. He fell into step with her. “Dan, whether you win or lose is not the issue. You've got a problem and you won't admit it.”
His wife had left him. That was his problem. Admitting it wouldn't make her come back to him.
“I don't blame you completely,” she said. “From what you've told me, your dad had some addictions. I guess I shouldn't be surprised when you turn up with one of your own.”
“I don't have an addiction.” He didn't smoke. He'd never done drugs, not even a single puff on a joint. He didn't drink unless you counted an occasional cold beer on a hot summer day. “And I'm nothing like my father.”
It was one thing for him to wonder about how much he had in common with Lester Scott. It was another thing for Anne to suggest it. Revulsion made his stomach roll.
“You
are
like him in this, whether you know it or not. I checked a book out of the library and I've been reading up on it, trying to understand what drove you to play until you lost the house. They call it having an addictive personality. I'm not saying you're a bad person, Dan. I know you're not. Having the urge to gamble is not your fault. What you do with the urge is.”
She started to open the door, but he stopped her with a hand on the screen.
“Well, if that's true, why don't you come home and help me deal with it?”
“If I did, would you promise never to gamble again? And I mean give up everything. No poker with the guys. No trips to the casino for slots. You even can't buy a lottery ticket. It would be like an alcoholic thinking he can stop with one drink.”
He opened his mouth, but then closed it without speaking. In all honesty, he couldn't make that promise. Just the thought of never feeling the high of winning again made him take an involuntary step back.
Maybe he
was
no better than Lester. Abuse came in lots of disguises. Landing his family on the street was as bad as leaving bruises where they didn't show.
And maybe the damage was slower to heal.
Anne gently pushed his hand aside and opened the door. “Well, that tells me what I need to know.”
“But I didn't say anything.”
“Exactly.” She went into the house and hooked the screen door between them. “I don't know why you're still here, Daniel.”
“I'm here because I want you back, Anne. I love you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” She swallowed hard. “I heard your old girlfriend is back in town.”
“So?”
“So someone made it their business to let me know you've been to see her.”
Daniel closed his eyes and silently counted to ten.
“I swear, if gossip were an Olympic sport, Coldwater Cove would take the gold every time. Whoever told you I've been to see Lacy is not your friend,” he said.
“So it's not true?” The hope in her eyes made his chest constrict.
“No, it's true, but it's not what you think.”
Heather Walker was probably the one who'd made sure Anne knew he'd seen his ex. She lived in an apartment over Gewgaws and Gizzwickies, same as Lacy. On the night he'd dropped by, Heather had been out on the iron deck the two units shared, watering a tub of newly planted petunias. The sidelong look she'd shot him was so cool, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
“My visit to Lacy was totally innocent, honest,” he said. “I was just checking on her. She's been through some tough stuff back east, you know.”
Anne crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, did someone gamble away her house, too?”
“Her dad asked me to stop by, so I did. Just to see if she's all right.”
“And is she?”
Lacy was better than all right. She made him feel like he was eighteen again, when everything was sharp-edged and full of fire and so wretchedly important. When he looked at Lacy, he could still smell the tang of sweetgrass wafting in a breeze off the lake. He could feel the red earth beneath his back as the stars wheeled in a slow dance across the night sky. Lacy tempted him sorely, especially since he and Anne were on the outs.
But Lacy wasn't his wife. He'd vowed to be faithful to Anne until he was dust. If he did nothing else right in this life, he wanted to stay true to that vow.
Daniel had been almost relieved when Jake arrived and gave him a reason to make a clean getaway. A man couldn't be held to account for what he thought about, for what he was tempted by, but guilt stabbed him in the gut over thinking and being tempted all the same.
“I took a vow to love you, Anne, and only you,” he said. “I haven't broken that promise.”

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