Kimberly Cates - The Gazebo

“What do you mean when I pawed through it? The chest is yours. I never even opened it.”

“So you drove the Captain over for one last attempt at search and destroy?”

The Captain scowled. “If I could climb the stairs to that second floor, missy, I’d be in my own house where I belong instead of dragging my sorry self around here, getting in the goddamn way.”

“Captain, we’re glad to have you—” Finn started, but Deirdre plunged on.

“I found what you were looking for, Cade,” Deirdre said, her gaze locking with his. “It was there all the time.”

He gritted his teeth, struggling for patience, an expression painfully familiar. And yet there was something brittle about him, his blue eyes burning, intense. “How could I be looking for it when I don’t even know what it is?”

Deirdre drew the letter out of her pocket, betrayal burning through her anew. “Don’t even try to lie your way out of this, either one of you.” Deirdre brandished the envelope at her brother and father. “All this time you knew—”

“Knew what?” the Captain asked, looking bewildered. “There was nothing but frills and nonsense in that cedar chest. Get hold of yourself right now, girl, and act like a McDaniel.”

Deirdre gave a harsh laugh. “I wonder how many millions of times I heard that one? ‘Act like a McDaniel, Deirdre. McDaniels don’t cry. McDaniels never quit. McDaniels don’t run away.’ I stunk at being a McDaniel, didn’t I? I just never knew the reason why. But you did. You and Mom and…Cade.” Her voice broke. She hated herself for showing weakness, reached deep inside to quell her tears. “This is a letter Mom wrote when I fell off that stupid plane.”

“Sonofabitch!” Cade paled. He grabbed the letter.

“Go ahead and take it,” Deirdre said. “I’ve already read it.”

Finn slanted a worried glance at the Captain, then hustled over to Deirdre, slipping one arm around her. “Why don’t you and Cade go into the kitchen. The two of you can talk—” Empathy and regret softened Finn’s face, her eyes far too easy to read.

“Oh my God, Finn!” Deirdre said, the truth jolting her. “You know it, too.”

“Know what? What the hell are the three of you talking about?” Martin McDaniel complained. “Quit acting like I’m not even here! I’m old, not stupid. And I have no idea what you’re all so upset about.”

Deirdre glared back at him in disbelief. “Don’t you get it? The game’s over. The secret’s out. But I’ve got to admit, you were damn good at covering it all up, Dad.” She all but spat the word.

“Deirdre, wait, he didn’t—” Cade started to intervene, but Deirdre didn’t even stop to draw breath.

“This whole pack of lies was just an earlier version of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ right, Captain? I’ve got to hand it to you, though, you handled it like an officer and a gentleman.”

“Deirdre, don’t,” Finn pleaded. “You’ll regret—” But Deirdre plunged on.

“Must have galled the hell out of you, having to pretend I was your daughter.”

“Pretend?” the Captain echoed.

“Having to look at me every day and know that Mom crawled into bed with some other man.”

Despite his injury, the Captain pulled himself ramrod straight. “Don’t you dare say such a thing about your mother!”

“Why not? We both know it’s true. My real father is some guy named Jimmy Rivermont. No wonder you couldn’t be in a room with me for ten minutes without losing your temper.”

“You’re not making any sense!” the Captain blustered. “Your mother was a perfect lady! She would never have…”

“Stop it, for God’s sake,” Deirdre raged. “If I hear what a perfect lady Mom was one more time I’m going to throw up! Don’t you get it? The game is over. I know the whole sordid story. It’s all in the letter Mom wrote to the guy she was screwing while you were off God-knows-where playing hero.”

Martin McDaniel staggered back a step, so damned confused Deirdre’s heart hurt. She had to fight to hold on to her outrage as he took the letter from Cade’s fingers, opened it, read it. He didn’t make a sound. Stood there, so still, as if he’d been turned to stone.

“What did you do?” Deirdre asked, like a kid poking at a sore tooth. “Sit at the table and shake your heads? ‘The girl is a mess, but what can you expect? It’s not as if she’s a McDaniel.’ I spent my whole life tearing myself apart wondering why I didn’t fit in with my own family. Why you and Mom loved Cade better. At least now I know the truth. It wouldn’t have mattered how hard I tried to be what you wanted me to be. I’d still be Emmaline McDaniel’s dirty little secret. No wonder you couldn’t love me.”

She dared her father to deny it was true, wanted him to insist that knowing she wasn’t his by blood hadn’t made any difference. She was his daughter in every way that counted. She needed her father to close the space between them, put his arms around her. But he didn’t.

The Captain turned to Cade, eyes once eagle sharp now pleading. “You knew about this? That your mother…your sister…”

Finn moved to her husband, slipped her arm around him. And for a heartbeat Deirdre wondered what that felt like—to have someone support you when the roof caved in. A soul mate who would walk through fire to shield you.

Cade drew strength from his wife, faced the rest of his family.

“Yeah. I knew.”

The Captain let the letter fall from his fingers. Deirdre could almost see his once-formidable strength drain away, his body suddenly frail, terrifyingly old. She wanted to reach out to him but couldn’t. He’d just proved the greatest terror of her childhood to be true. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t even look at her.

Cade laid a hand on Martin McDaniel’s arm as gently as if the craggy old man were one of his twins. “Dad, wait.”

Deirdre flinched at the unexpected word. Dad. Cade said it so tenderly, closing the distance the whole family had kept by addressing the Captain by his rank all these years.

But Martin McDaniel didn’t seem to notice. He turned, shuffling out the door.

Cade looked as if he wanted to follow, but he was enough like his father to know it would be futile. McDaniels hid their weaknesses, burrowing in somewhere to lick their wounds like savage animals.

Silence fell, so thick Deirdre couldn’t breathe.

“I’ve been dreading this day since I was sixteen,” Cade said. “Scared that the truth would come out somehow. But I thought…hoped the secret died with Mom. God, Dee, haven’t you suffered enough? And the Captain, hell, what could the truth do but hurt him? Dad didn’t know about this any more than you did.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Deirdre stammered.

“I was never supposed to know, either. I accidentally overheard Mom talking to the doctor at the hospital. They were afraid you might need a kidney. When they tested for a compatible donor, the truth came out. Your blood work and the Captain’s proved you couldn’t be father and daughter.”

“My God.” Deirdre sagged into Finn’s rocking chair. “That’s why Mom changed once I got home from the hospital.”

Cade nodded. “It killed her just to look at me, knowing I knew her secret. Sometimes I think she was so afraid you and Dad would find out the truth that she wanted to die. Yes, she had an affair with some musician—”

“A musician?” Deirdre echoed. “Like me?”

“It doesn’t matter what the guy did for a living,” Cade said, but Deirdre could tell that he knew it did; it mattered to her in ways he’d understood far too long. “Mom stayed with us,” Cade insisted. “She tried to make things work. She loved all of us.”