Page 101 of You Found Me

“Donovan,” he corrected. He cut the stalk and handed it to her.

He never talked about the house with anyone, not since the day Dad had signed it over to him. “So you always have a place to come home to.”

It was an unspoken, unexamined understanding between them. Neither of them wanted to sell the house because doing that would be like losing his mother all over again.

That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

Not that he’d ever said that out loud.

“You’d keep it?” He tried to sound casual, but even to his own ears, his voice was pinched.

“Oh yes. Definitely. It’s…well, home.” She shrugged. “That’s not easy to find, you know. My daddy sold our house when we started touring. But even if he hadn’t, I’m not sure I’d want to go back there because truth is, it’s notmyhome. It’s just a house. My whole life has been on the road with my sisters. Home is wherever they are.”

“Your childhood was very different from mine.” He cut another stem. “I didn’t see anything outside of Pennsylvania and New York until I joined the Marines.”

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like. Sitting in one place for me would basically be torture. Come to think of it, that’s exactly what I thought this would be.” She chuckled. “I like moving around. I like seeing new places and people. But I think for you, this town and that house are your anchors. I mean that in a good way, not in a trapped kind of way. I felt that the second I walked through the door. It wraps around you like a hug. No matter what happened when you were seventeen, it’s still your home. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it? Because it feels safe?”

“It’s better to stake your ground somewhere familiar.” Ward wondered if that was all it was anymore.

He had logical, well-reasoned excuses for bringing her here. It still made sense. Even if it was a little uncomfortable having her infiltrate his personal life so completely.

“Tell me about your mother. Please?” Della asked softly. “She must have been an amazing woman.”

“She was.”

Maybe it was the way she said it, or the easy way they’d been talking while they picked flowers, or maybe it was just that this was the most relaxed he’d felt in months, but he found himself wanting to tell her.

So he did.

“She loved to paint. All of the paintings in the house are hers. There’s more scattered around town. Especially at the opera house. Aunt Martha scooped them up.”

“I’m not surprised. She was really talented.” Della nodded like she’d been an art expert her entire life. Then she gave a rueful sigh. “I’ve never even tried to sketch something, much less paint.”

“Me either.”

Della tilted her head. “What else?”

He sifted through once painful memories, finding it not nearly as hard as he’d expected it to be. “She sponsored all of my school trips, even the ones that took us all over the state for late-night games. Her apple pie always won the contest at the festival.” He studied the flowers without really seeing them. “She had a kind word for everybody, and she was everybody’s mom. She never met a kid she didn’t take under her wing. Including Rachel. Guess that’s why she likes the house so much.”

“Hmm. Not sure that’s the whole reason.” Della tugged a flower down to her face and sniffed. “I never knew my mom. I always wondered what it would have been like.”

“Mine would have adopted you too, if you’d been here.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t suffer. I had my sisters. Lizzie’s been like a mom to me my whole life. It’s not exactly the same, though. Not that I’d ever tell her that.” Della pointed at another stalk for him to cut. Her arms were getting full, but he had a feeling she’d keep going until they overflowed. “How did someone like your mom… Well, out here, it just seems so far away from the crazy. You know? How did she wind up with a stalker?”

“He knew her in high school.” He stabbed the next stalk a little more viciously than he intended. “His name is Aaron Garner. His family moved to Wires Crossing when he was a sophomore. According to Elyse and my dad, he managed to worm his way into my parent’s circle of friends. He had several classes with my mom, and he seemed harmless enough, at the time. It wasn’t obvious at first. But he was always there. Always asking for Mom’s help with homework or trying to go with them to the pep rally. That kind of thing. They brushed off his attempts to get close as just awkward social skills, but that’s the thing about stalkers.”

He looked at her to make sure he had her attention.

Della had covered her panic button pendant with one hand as if to reassure herself that it was still there. She watched him with wide eyes.

“Most of the time, it’s someone familiar. Someone who’s already there in the background. Like Hannibal Lecter says, we covet what we see every day.”

She had to see the similarities between his mother’s case and her own. Even if they hadn’t pinned down who it was, his gut still told him it was someone she’d already met. Maybe even someone she’d smiled at. Signed an autograph for. She might have even gone on a date with him once or twice.

Della swallowed and pointed. “That one. With the splotch on the side.”

He snipped the one she indicated and handed it to her. “I shouldn’t be telling you about this.”