Donna Clayton - His Ten-Year-Old Secret

Braking for a red light, she forced herself to rise from the foggy haze of her memories. She’d automatically switched on her left turn signal, and as she waited for the light to change, she realized she was staring at the red brick building that had always been the home of Minster Savings and Loan.

Fear welled up inside her seemingly out of nowhere. A fear so pure, so unadulterated, it had her heart pounding, her blood whooshing in her eardrums. It mattered not one whit that the panic threatening to drown her was irrational. The fact that Helen Minster, or the rest of the Minster clan, could no longer hurt her was too logical a thought; besides, it was buried under about a dump truck load of frantic insanity that had perspiration prickling her underarms and her brain screaming at her to get the hell out of this town, get the hell away from the prejudice of the judgmental Minsters. Such thinking caused nothing but heartache, humiliation and hurt for people like herself.

She’d worked so hard not to obsess about the account book she’d found among her father’s possessions. But now questions and conclusions swam in her head until she thought she’d surely drown in them.

Had her father accepted some kind of payoff from Helen Minster? There really was no other explanation that Tess could come up with. Had they really been paid to leave Pine Meadow? She shook her head, thinking the only possible answer to that was yes. And all this time Tess had been under the impression she and her father had left town of their own free will, with their chins held high, their pride intact. But it seemed their exodus had been under a whole different set of circumstances entirely. But if what she surmised was true, why hadn’t her father used that money when the two of them had been in such need of it over the years? The interest had accrued on that account, and not one dime had ever been withdrawn. That didn’t seem to make sense, and it was that part of the situation that had her curious for answers. It was that part of the situation that had compelled Tess to take a leave of absence from her new practice and travel to Pine Meadow.

She had to admit, there was one question that haunted her more than any other. Had Dylan been aware of the payoff?

A horn blared behind her and she stomped her foot on the gas pedal, desperate to get away from the bank and all the mocking questions it conjured. Her tires screeched a complaint as she took the turn much too quickly. Another turn had her heading toward Pine Meadow’s east end. The “Bowers,” as the area had been known years ago. The wrong side of the tracks. The bad part of town. Her part of town.

She slowed the car and gulped in several deep breaths in an effort to calm her troubled mind. Being back in her neck of the woods, seeing her old haunts, somehow comforted her. And she focused all her attention on them, the narrow streets and close-packed businesses soothing her frazzled nerves.

Home. The businesses in the Bowers had been mostly small, family-owned enterprises that struggled from month to month to remain open. These people had known no other way of life. Had no other means to eke out a living. And from the looks of things, that hadn’t changed.

She turned down Cox Avenue and slowed down when she came to the building her father used to rent as his shoe repair shop. The main floor of the small building housed a coffee shop now. And seeing the frilly, faded yellow curtains hanging in the two upstairs windows, she surmised that someone lived in the tiny one bedroom apartment where she had been raised.

Heaving a forlorn sigh, she continued driving down the street. She’d played hopscotch on this sidewalk as a little girl. Jumped rope with her friends. Tess wrapped herself in the warm blanketlike memory of the love and security she’d felt as a child. Looking both ways at the four-way stop, that’s when she saw it.

Dylan’s Auto Repair.

The small, metal placard advertising Body Work dangled from below the Auto Repair sign, as if it had been added on. A second thought.

Could it be...?

“No,” came her verbal reply. Dylan Minster’s favorite hobby might have been working on cars, but he’d made it abundantly clear that he was going into his family’s banking business. Abundantly clear. Besides, a Minster would never be caught dead opening a business in the Bowers.

Still, her eyes remained glued to that sign. It seemed to call out to her. Relentless. Enticing. Like a glass of cool water to someone dying of thirst.

“Hey, there!”

Tess’s gaze whipped around to see an elderly lady standing on the corner.

“You lost?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” Tess told her. “I grew up around here. Lived overtop the coffee shop a couple of blocks back. My dad had a shoe repair shop there.”

“Well, now.” The woman smiled. “I don’t remember the shop being anything other than a coffeehouse. But I’ve only lived here seven years. Ever since I had to move in with my daughter and her husband.” Her smile widened. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks.” Tess’s tone was vague as her eyes were inexorably drawn back to the auto repair shop. Then she found herself saying, “Things haven’t changed too much.” She paused. “But I see there are a few new businesses in the Bowers...”

The hesitation had been purposeful. Tess hoped the woman would reveal some information regarding the garage across the street.

The woman chuckled. “The city council has tried every way possible to get people to stop calling this place the Bowers. They started a campaign a few years back. Wanted us to call this part of town East Meadows. That fell flat. People use what they know, I guess. And this place will always be the Bowers, won’t it?”

“I guess,” Tess said, her gaze never leaving the building she’d hoped to learn more about.

Finally the woman seemed to perceive her interest. “You know Dylan Minster?”

After several moments Tess was able to get her tongue to work. “I did. Once. A long time ago.” The curt sentences sounded rusty to her own ears.

“That Dylan fought his family, the city council and a whole army of other people when he wanted to open his garage over here.”

By over here, Tess knew she meant in this less reputable part of town.

Movement caught her eye, and then she saw him. He stood in the large open doorway of the first bay, directing as someone backed a large car out of the garage. Tess felt every nerve ending in her body come alive, alert.

Dylan Minster. In the flesh. She’d know the set of those wide, muscular shoulders anywhere, recognize the tilt of that chin. That was the man who had stolen her heart. The man who had taught her what love between two people was all about. However, he was also the man who had crushed her spirit, hurt her like no one else ever had. The man who had fathered her stillborn baby girl. Her gaze never wavered from his fine form as her mind churned with all these bits from the past.

“You know,” the woman said to her, “seeing as how you knew Dylan and all, and seeing as how you’re in the neighborhood, you ought to stop in over there and say hello.”

Tess’s voice actually quivered as she answered, “I think I’ll do that.”

Chapter Two

The broad expanse of his chest made the navy, run of-the-mill uniform shirt look not quite so run-of-the-mill. The rolled-up sleeves revealed powerful, tanned hands and forearms, the open collar, a corded neck that invited a woman’s lips to explore.

Tess started with a tiny twitch, her eyes widening. Where had that thought come from?

From the deepest depths of your memory, came a silent answer. That most sensuous of places that Dylan had awakened when you were just seventeen.

Well, she decided, such thoughts would simply have to go straight back to wherever they came from, and she’d have to shut the door on them. Lock the door on them. And toss away the key.