The Rebel Daughter

Twyla thought it odd that he called his father by his given name. She didn’t remember him doing that in the past. His tone was notable, too. Almost as if he was disgusted his father had never been caught. “Because his button men had machine guns at every entrance,” she said. “Sheriff Withers may be growing older, but he’s not stupid.” Recalling something she’d once overheard, she added, “Besides, it was all a show for your father. He wasn’t involved with real gangsters. They’d have planted him five feet under the first time he cheated them, and everyone knows your father wasn’t an honest man. My father proved yours wasn’t invincible.”

“Or, maybe your father wanted to keep him alive. Sometimes that’s worth more.”

Twyla could have sworn that hairy, creepy spider was back and crawling its way slowly up her spine this time. The conversation had taken on a completely different tone. She leaned forward to peer around the side of Forrest’s face and look him in the eye. In the darkness, his eyes looked black instead of brown, but not even the night sky could hide the dullness they now held.

“Why do you say that?” she asked. “Like that?” she added, withholding a shiver. Surely he didn’t believe her father was in cahoots with his. That would be insane. They hated each other. Forrest hadn’t been around when things had been really bad. When Galen had bad-mouthed all of the Nightingales, claiming they were gold diggers. No, Forrest had already up and left. Vanished without a word to anyone. That had been before Prohibition, before her father started making money, but that was also when her father started refusing to let them leave the house. The exact time her world had turned into a dark and lonely place.

Forrest shifted slightly, turning her way, and she held her breath, sensing he was about to answer. When a smile slowly curved his lips, her breath stalled in her lungs.

“I am not in love with Norma Rose, Twyla.”

She leaned back against the fountain’s concrete wall and huffed out a breath, totally flustered he’d brought the conversation back to that. “Yes, you are,” she insisted. He’d always been in love with Norma Rose and probably always would be. There was no mystery there, but there was something behind his other comment—about her father keeping his alive. He knew something. A deep, dark secret he wasn’t prepared to share. If she knew what that was, she’d have some real power to hold over him, perhaps enough to make him stay this time. Inside her head she pinched herself, a reminder that she needed to get rid of him, not make him stay.

“Why would you care if I was?” he asked.

She took a moment to contemplate how she wanted to answer that. This was Forrest, a man she’d known all her life, and despite what she told herself, a single day hadn’t gone by when she hadn’t missed him. Missed the fun they used to have. Swimming and fishing, playing hide-and-seek, and card games when it was raining. He’d been a permanent fixture at their house in the summertime. He’d been someone she believed would always be there. Right up until his disappearance. That’s when she learned nothing was forever.

At first she hadn’t believed it and refused to listen when Galen spouted that it was Norma Rose’s fault that Forrest had left town. As time went on and no one heard a word from him, Twyla had to start believing, especially when Norma Rose voiced her hatred of Forrest.

A flicker of hope had been lit inside Twyla when she’d heard he’d returned to town last fall. For weeks she’d stared out the window, waiting for him to visit, but he never had. He’d refused to talk to her, too, when she’d called about hiring Slim. Last weekend, when he’d come out for Big Al’s anniversary party, she’d purposefully stayed clear of him.

Hating him had been much easier when he’d been gone. The thrill of spying him from afar at the amusement park or seeing his airplane overhead, soaring around like an eagle in the sky, did something unique to her insides.

Flying had to be the ultimate freedom. Up there, you weren’t attached to anything. The closest she’d ever come to that would have been years ago, when they used to go swimming. Forrest had tied a rope to a tree branch hanging over the water, and she’d loved those few seconds that occurred between the time she let go of the rope and when she landed in the water.

She’d told him that once, when it was just the two of them jumping off the rope—her sisters had been afraid of it, even Josie—and Forrest had agreed with her. Maybe that was why he took up flying.

Her mind had gone full-circle. Turning to look at him again, she asked, “Why do I care?”

He nodded.

Her stomach tightened and her throat grew a bit thick. Her answer had to be about her. That way, Forrest would believe her. It also was the truth, even if it didn’t feel as important as it had before. “Because I want more excitement than hosting a kissing booth out of the back of the cotton candy shed. While you’ve been out seeing the world, flying planes, I’ve been stuck here.” Pushing off the ground, she rose to her feet and waved a hand toward the resort on the other side of the water fountain. “I live at the biggest, most fabulous speakeasy in the nation, but I’ve never been able to enjoy it.”

“Why?”

“Because of Norma Rose,” she snapped.

“Why are you blaming Norma Rose for that?”

“Why?” Twyla planted both hands on her hips. She had her reasons, and was sticking to them. “Because of what you did. Because of the way your father acted and the things he said, Norma Rose became fixated on making sure that none of us would become doxies.”

“It’s all my fault.”

It was all his fault. He’d left when she couldn’t stand losing something else. Yet, with the way he said it, with such meaning and implication, something jabbed at Twyla. Something invisible, but with as much power and pain as anything real could ever have.

Forrest climbed to his feet and used one hand to push aside the wayward hair that had flopped over his forehead. “Is that what you want, Twyla? To be a speakeasy doxy?”

He made that sound immoral, which added to the sting inside her. Twyla spun around, not liking the hint of disgust in his eyes. “No, and I’m not a doxy.” Twisting back around, she added, “But I am twenty-three. Too old to be told what to do and when to do it.”

He stepped forward, and for a moment Twyla couldn’t move, was barely able to breathe. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a faint, enticing shimmer that held her attention. When he took her hand and squeezed it gently, her knees quivered. Years ago he’d looked at her like that once, and it had frightened her. Not tonight. This time it made other things happen inside her. She felt anticipation. Excitement. All the things she’d longed for, and still did.

“I have a feeling, Twyla,” he whispered, “age has nothing to do with it.”

A knot formed in her throat, preventing her from responding. Not that she had a reply. Her mind had gone uncommonly empty. Because she knew what was about to happen.

He was going to kiss her.

Forrest was going to kiss her.

Her.

The knot in her stomach disappeared as a great sense of exuberance rose up. Her heart started racing and she had to part her lips in order to breathe.

Her lips quivered as Forrest leaned down. He tugged on her hand, forcing her to lean toward him. For a split second Twyla feared toppling to the ground.

That couldn’t happen.

Could.

Not.

Happen.

Not when she was this close to experiencing paradise.

It didn’t.

She didn’t topple.

But as relieved as she was, Twyla was so overly disappointed her shoulders slumped clear to her elbows.

Forrest’s lips had barely brushed against her forehead.

“Thanks for the party, doll,” he said, letting loose her hand.

Never one to give up easily, Twyla’s wits returned, at least partially, before he was completely out of arm’s reach. She stopped herself from grabbing his arm, but did ask, “You’re just going to leave me out here?”

That wasn’t the question she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t very well beg him to kiss her. Not when he’d always been in love with her sister.

Turning to glance over his shoulder, Forrest said, “You’re in your own front yard.”

Inhaling through her nose, she insisted, “I know.” Pulling up a bit of charm that never failed when she wanted her way, she tilted her head and twirled an earring with one finger. “But it’s dark.”

He laughed. A joyful trill that echoed in the night air.

She dropped her hand and cast him a glare.

“I don’t remember you being afraid of the dark.”

“I’m not.” A great desire to pout rose up in her and she wanted to ask if he remembered how years ago, he’d always chosen her to be on his hide-and-seek team for that very reason. She certainly remembered.

With little more than a nod, he turned and started walking again. “Walter’s standing next to the first boathouse. He’ll make sure you get back inside safely.”

Twyla let out a growl instead of screaming as she really wanted to do, and kicked at the grass, now slick and damp with dew. One shoe went flying. She barely caught herself before going down. As Twyla stood there wobbling, to her utter dismay, her shoe landed in the water fountain. How Forrest knew that—he hadn’t turned around so he hadn’t seen it—she wasn’t sure, but his laughter said he knew her shoe was submerged in the bubbling water.

She stomped—well, hobbled—to the fountain, retrieved her shoe and, wet or not, stuck it back on her foot. Forrest disappeared around the side of the resort, and Twyla instinctively knew this time he was leaving for sure. She also knew she was no closer to—and perhaps even further away from—hating him than ever.

* * *

Forrest stopped in the shadows on the side of the massive three-story resort building and watched to make sure Twyla did indeed make her way back to the balcony stairs. The plunk of her shoe hitting the water had left a grin on his face, and despite all, it felt good. Her temper hadn’t lessened over the years. Considering there were no rocks on the highly manicured lawn, he’d assumed the plunk and splash he’d heard was her shoe. She wasn’t wearing anything else heavy enough to throw. He should be glad she hadn’t thrown it at him. Maybe she had.

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