The Truth About Hope

“Look, Suzie. It’s a big park. Can’t you find somewhere else to take a rest?”

Suzie lifted her head and flipped back her ponytail. Her vivid blue eyes drilled into Hope’s. “I could...but I don’t want to.” She straightened and tugged her water bottle out of its holster on her belt and took a long drink. “This is where I always take my break. I don’t plan to change my routine for you.”

Hope shrugged and tried to ignore her.

The sun had crept up in the sky. The gold sheen it had cast over land and buildings had faded. Focusing on the silver-blue surface of the lake in the distance, Hope willed herself to stay calm. She was doing a pretty good job until Suzie stepped into her line of vision.

“Go away, Suzie, and leave me alone.”

Suzie placed her hands on her trim hips and bent backward from her waist, moving her torso in small circles. “You want to be alone, huh? Shouldn’t be too hard. Who’d want to hang around with you anyway?”

Hope had just about had enough. She tried for calm one last time. “Can we not do this today?”

“Why not?” Suzie narrowed her eyes. “Hmm...you know, you don’t look so good this morning. Did yummy Luke see you like this and tell you to get yourself together or he’d break up with you?”

Hope shot to her feet, clenching her fists at her sides. All the years of conflict with Suzie converged in that single moment, bound up with Hope’s anguish at losing her mother and her fear of losing everything she knew. “This has nothing to do with Luke!” She bent over to lift up her pack, but Suzie pulled it out of her reach.

“I bet it does,” Suzie taunted.

Hope felt the pressure build in her chest at the thought of leaving him. It was for only a year, she tried to convince herself, but her thin thread of control finally snapped. “Leave me alone,” she repeated. “In a week, I’ll have left Canyon Creek.”

She unclenched her fists and went very still. Had she really said that? Had she blurted out to Suzie, of all people, that she was leaving?

“Where are you going?” Suzie asked. “Like a vacation?”

Hope’s body remained rigid but her mind worked furiously. What should she say? How should she handle this so Suzie wouldn’t see her as a helpless victim? She couldn’t bear to let her think that. “It’s not a vacation. I’m moving,” she said. “I...” She was still searching desperately for a way out. It was bad enough that everyone already felt sorry for her because of her father and now her mother. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let Suzie know the depth of her misery. “I’m going to live with my father.”

“Your father?”

Hope nodded. “Yes. My father. In San Jose.”

“You’re going? Just like that?”

Hope had to save face. She couldn’t bear the idea of explaining to Suzie that she didn’t have a choice. “This is my big chance,” she improvised. “You can’t imagine how rich my father is. He could buy this whole town, if he wanted to!” Suzie’s obvious glee was replaced by...what? Envy? It didn’t matter. Hope was on a roll. “Me? I’m tired of just hanging around here.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm toward the town spread out below the precipice. “I’m going to be rich, like my father. Do you realize how great San Jose is?” She’d checked it out on the internet; she’d been able to see her father’s place on Google Earth. “My father has a huge house,” she boasted.

Suzie stared at her, speechless.

Hope pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose and fixed what she considered a gloating smile on her face.

Suzie opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, she mumbled, “Good for you” and jogged away.

Well, she’d done it. This wasn’t the way Hope had wanted to communicate things, but at least no one would feel sorry for her—and there wasn’t much she could do about it now. Not only was Suzie unkind, she was an incorrigible gossip. Their conversation would be town fodder in no time.

Then the realization struck her. She hadn’t told Luke yet! “Oh, my gosh,” she exclaimed. She had to speak with Luke.

Hope grabbed her pack and raced across the field, down Yardley Drive and toward Luke’s house. While she ran, she tried to figure out what to say. She didn’t like being helpless. She didn’t like not being in control. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her.

She came to a sudden stop and tried to catch her breath.

What if he wanted to go with her? They’d talked about where they’d go to college. Luke had insisted that he’d go wherever she did.

Would he do that? Go to San Jose with her? Her mood brightened. He was the one person who wouldn’t desert her. Then she wouldn’t be all alone.

But that was selfish. His family was struggling to make ends meet since his father had left them. That was a common bond they shared—the fact that they each had only a mother. But he had a younger brother, Travis. Luke worked after school, on weekends and all through the summer to help out. Travis wasn’t old enough to have a job; he did his share by looking after the chickens and goats they raised. How would his family get by if Luke left? Besides, how could he afford to live in San Jose and finish school? No, it was out of the question.

Hope loved Mrs. Carter almost as much as her own mother. Yes, Luke would be going to college in another year, but Hope couldn’t be responsible for his leaving before that, making life even harder for his mom and younger brother.

The more Hope thought about it, the more she realized how easy it had been to let Suzie think it was her own decision. That she wasn’t a victim, and she needn’t be pitied.

That would be her story. Now that she’d told Suzie, everyone would know what she’d said anyway. Why not just let them believe it?

Suzie had probably told lots of people by now. No longer having to race against the clock, Hope walked resolutely to Luke’s house.

She found him outside, working in the chicken coop. He was hunched over, his back to her, collecting eggs. He was so tall, so strong, things that had attracted her when they’d already been best friends. “Hey,” she called out.

Luke jerked upright, banging his head on the two-by-four beam at the top of the opening. He grunted loudly. Rubbing his head, he backed out of the coop and straightened. His look of mild irritation turned to pleasure when he saw her. “Hey to you, too, Sprite,” he responded, using his nickname for her. He hurried over and brushed his lips lightly across hers. “Here, I’ll take that.” He reached for her backpack.

She moved the strap farther up her shoulder. “No. It’s okay.”

His eyes narrowed briefly, and then the smile was back on his face. He gently set the bucket of eggs down on the grass and slung an arm around her shoulders. Since his arm nestled her tightly against his side, it would’ve been awkward to resist, so she let him lead her. And it felt so good. She wished she could turn into his arms and he’d tell her everything would be okay. She resisted the temptation. It wasn’t going to happen. Nothing was going to be okay ever again, she thought as they walked along.

Hope could guess where they were going. To the swimming pond on the Hawkins ranch abutting the Carter property. All the kids were welcome to use it. The large rock at the edge of the pond was one of their favorite spots. That was where they’d first kissed. Where they’d first said they loved each other. It was a special, magical place for her, and she knew it was for Luke, too.

She stopped abruptly. If that was where she told him, the magic would be gone. It didn’t matter to her, or so she tried to convince herself. But was it fair to ruin it for Luke? On the other hand, maybe that was fitting. Maybe it had to happen there. Where it all started would be where it ended, too. Where she’d shatter their dreams.

They walked in silence, the only sounds the crunching of the dry grass beneath their feet, the whinny of a horse in the distance and the mournful cry of a dove gliding overhead.

When they reached the rock by the cattail-edged blue-brown water, Luke dropped his arm. As Hope slipped off her backpack and climbed up, Luke took a small bag of crumbled bread from his pocket, which he habitually kept there for the chickens, and held it out to her. She grabbed a handful and began tossing it into the pond. They watched the koi leap and dance as they fed.

Luke nudged Hope with his shoulder. “So, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?”

It was now or never. “I’ve been thinking... With Mom gone...it changes things.”

“Oh, Hope...”

He reached for her, but she pulled away. There was no easy way to do it. She just had to get it out. “I’m leaving Canyon Creek.”

“What?” The word exploded from Luke’s mouth. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”

She inched farther away from him. She couldn’t go through with it if she could feel him next to her, touching her. His nearness made her resolve waver. Her heart was racing, and there was a terrible constriction in her chest that made breathing almost impossible, but she tried to keep her voice unaffected. “I’m going to live with my father in California.”

Luke jumped off the rock. Bracing his arms on either side of her legs, he caged her in. “Your father? The man you can’t remember? The man who practically destroyed this town?”

“He’s still my father.”

Luke shook his head, but kept his eyes, intense and angry, on hers. “What kind of sick joke is this?”

Hope broke eye contact, focusing on a spot over his left shoulder. She couldn’t continue, if she had to keep looking into his furious gaze. “It’s not a joke.”

“You’re not making sense. Why would you do that?”

“Because he asked.”

Luke turned, picked up a large stone and heaved it into the water, where it landed with a splash. He watched the ripples spread before turning back. His voice was more controlled when he spoke again. “Hope, what’s this all about? You don’t want to live with your father.”

He knew her too well. She nearly shrieked that, no, she didn’t want to. She almost begged him to make it all go away. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Yes. It is what I want.”

“It makes no sense. Why?”

She slid off the rock and threw up her arms. “I’m tired of living in a place that’s so small everyone knows your business. I’m tired of not being able to buy a new pair of sneakers or go on a school trip because I can’t afford it.” More calmly now, and with full honesty, she added, “And I can’t impose on Aunt Clarissa. I can’t expect her to move here and give up her life to take care of me.”

“She’d do it. She loves you. Or you can live with us. Mom won’t mind. Travis would love it.”

“No, Luke. I’m leaving,” she said emphatically. And with finality.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS HOPE’S first time on a plane. With every passing minute, she was inexorably transported toward an uncertain and terrifying future. The distance between her and everything she knew and loved increased. Far below, the ranches formed a patchwork quilt of greens and browns. The occasional ribbon of blue water haphazardly transected the rectangles of varying textures and sizes. Gauzy white clouds drifted by.

Hope leaned her forehead against the cool window and thought about her mother as she watched the ground rush by. It still didn’t seem possible that she wouldn’t see her bright, vivacious, loving mother again. When reality did come crashing down on her, the weight of it seemed too much to bear. Her reflections turned to her father, what she’d known and what she’d learned over the past week.

Jock Wilson had left her and her mother when Hope was barely two. She wasn’t aware of the details because her mother never talked about it. Aunt Clarissa didn’t know much either or, if she did, she wouldn’t say. Her father had taken off to make a fortune with the internet. Hope had no idea if he’d wanted them to move with him and her mother had refused, or if he’d simply left without giving them a choice. Hope wondered if he’d enlighten her, but did it really matter?

Her father had owned and operated a computer components manufacturing plant in Canyon Creek. He was reputed to be one of the most successful businessmen in the area at that time. Evidently it hadn’t been enough for him. She and her mother hadn’t been enough.

Manufacturing was a huge contributor to the Texas economy, and a lot of people in Canyon Creek had earned their living at her father’s plant. His company had been one of the largest employers in town. As a consequence, her father’s leaving—or more accurately, the closing of his plant—had created considerable hardship. Nearly everyone in Canyon Creek had been negatively affected.

Hadn’t Luke thrown it at her when he’d mentioned her father’s having destroyed the town? Many people had lost their jobs, Luke’s father among them. The impact on the local economy was still talked about fifteen years later.

Hope had heard, too, that her father’s employees wanted to buy the business from him, but he’d refused their offer. Instead he’d closed the plant.

She would’ve thought he’d want the proceeds from the sale of his business, either to his employees or a competitor. Aunt Clarissa told her it had to do with some sort of financial advantage folding the company would create for him. Apparently he wanted to show he’d lost money on it. One thing she understood about her father was that he was a shrewd businessman. It must have made sense for him from a business perspective, if not a human one.

The building had sat empty for years until it was finally torn down. Now there was a Taco Bell and a gas station where the plant had been.

After Jock Wilson left Canyon Creek, no one heard from him again, as far as Hope knew. If he’d had any contact with her mother, Hope was unaware of it. Her mother had received some sort of financial support, but again the details were sketchy, and it couldn’t have been much. Hope speculated that might be part of the reason her father had wanted to show a business loss, to decrease the amount of support he’d have to pay.

Whatever the circumstances behind her parents’ split, it had obviously been acrimonious. There hadn’t been a single picture of her father in their home. The only images Hope had of him were those she’d found on the internet.

He was a tall, distinguished-looking man, slender, with short, slicked-back hair. She guessed the color of his hair would’ve been close to hers at one time, but now it was streaked with gray. His eyes weren’t anything like her deep brown ones, though. They were a piercing slate gray. There was no warmth in them, judging by what she could see in the pictures. Even when he smiled, it never touched his eyes. She pulled a picture from the side pocket of her backpack to refresh her memory of the man who was her father.

Examining the picture, Hope resented the guilt she felt every time she remembered what her father had done. But was she any better? Here she was, leaving Canyon Creek, too. As far as everyone was concerned, her reasons weren’t very different from her father’s—and she was the one who’d convinced them of that.

A few days after her run-in with Suzie, Hope had come to appreciate the significance of her impulsive actions. She’d been prepared to endure the move to San Jose, with the expectation that when she turned eighteen, she’d come home again. But what she’d done—what she’d said—made that impossible.

With the pretense she’d created, there was no way she could return. The dynamics had already shifted during the week since her “revelation.” People treated her differently.

What she had done weighed heavily on her. Aunt Clarissa had urged her to tell everyone the truth, but Hope couldn’t bring herself to do it. She just didn’t have the strength or the energy to set things right. Still believing that moving to San Jose was her decision, Luke had tried to change her mind until the very end. She couldn’t forget the look of hurt and anger—and astonishment—on his face when she’d seen him that last time. When she’d told him there was nothing left in Canyon Creek for her. In some respects that was true. Her father had made all the arrangements to settle her mother’s estate, what there was of it, and sell their small house and its contents. She was on her way to her father’s with nothing more than a few suitcases and no idea what lay ahead.

Usually she looked forward to summer. Being out of school, working with her mother at the garden center where she was a manager and being with Luke. But now the months without classes stretched unnervingly ahead of her.

The plane was soaring higher, shrouded in dense white clouds. She put in earplugs, laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes—until she suddenly jolted awake. Confused, she glanced outside and saw that they were on the ground and the tarmac was rushing past at an alarming speed. She clasped the armrests to steady herself and wondered where they were. Hadn’t they just taken off? Checking her watch, she was surprised to find that she’d been asleep for over three hours.

The plane slowed and pivoted, and the terminal building came into view; they were at the gate in minutes.

As soon as the flight attendant announced that it was safe to do so, Hope gathered her belongings. Having been seated in business class, she was among the first passengers to deplane. She made her way to the baggage carousel, searching for her father.

There was no tall, slender, silver-haired man that she could see. A hint of panic shot through her. Then she noticed a man in a dark blue suit walking toward her. Surely this wasn’t her father. He couldn’t be. He was shorter than she’d imagined, had a stockier build, and his hair was thick and black. Most significantly, he couldn’t have been much older than thirty.

But he was definitely headed in her direction. She took an involuntary step back as he reached her.

He swept his gaze over her. “Are you Ms. Hope Wilson?”

She wanted to take another step back but resisted. “Yes.”

He nodded. “I’m Mr. Wilson’s chauffeur, Morris. I’ll take you to his home.”

“Oh” was all she could say. It came out as a squeal. Here she was, leaving her life behind, and her father couldn’t meet her himself? She didn’t think she could’ve been more disappointed, but she’d been wrong. And the chauffeur hadn’t said “your father.” Or “your home.” She hadn’t realized that she’d nurtured some small kernel of hope that maybe—just maybe—her father wouldn’t be as bad as she dreaded. That he’d welcome her and they’d be able to find some common ground.

Instead, he’d sent his chauffeur. Hope had an overwhelming urge to run back up the bridge, back on the plane. But that wouldn’t have accomplished anything.

With a sinking heart, she knew her only option was to go with this Mr. Morris, to a house that wouldn’t be her home, to a man who’d be a father to her in name only.

She wouldn’t let them see her pain and disappointment. She straightened her spine. “Thank you, Mr. Morris,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

“It’s just Morris, miss,” he clarified, as he took her backpack and arranged for a porter to carry the rest of her luggage to the sleek, silver limousine waiting at the curb.

Soon they were driving through a residential area with gated properties, pristine lawns, tall hedges and sprawling gardens. As Morris signaled a turn into one of the entrances, Hope shifted forward to get a better look. Black wrought-iron gates opened smoothly to let them pass and they drove along a textured concrete surface intersecting areas of brilliant green, perfectly trimmed turf. Rows of towering palm trees marched along on either side. As they rounded a curve and the house came into view, Hope sucked in a breath. It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion.

Grand and imposing, it had turrets and balconies and iron railings. The walls were warm, butternut-yellow stucco, the roof deep-red clay tile and the wood of the doors, shutters and trim a rich coffee brown. Flowering shrubs abounded. Although it was just early evening, lights glowed cheerful and inviting.

Morris pulled up adjacent to a set of wide stone stairs leading to the front portico and ornately carved double doors.

Hope was so stunned by the magnificent mansion her father called home that she sat motionless, even when Morris held the car door for her.

“Miss,” he prompted, and she glanced up, having almost forgotten he was there.

She exited the car, grateful for the hand he offered. She moved toward the trunk, but Morris forestalled her. “I’ll take care of your luggage. You go on in.”

Hope climbed the steps, and before she reached the landing, the door opened. A woman in her early thirties, with a pleasant, serene face, shoulder-length brown hair and wearing a pale blue uniform, stood in the entryway. A small smile curved her lips and she seemed to curtsy, more a bob of her head. “Welcome to Glencastle, Miss Hope. I’m Priscilla. We’re happy to have you here.”

Those simple words pierced Hope’s heart. If only her father was glad to have her, things might’ve been tolerable. But she didn’t believe it for a moment. If he’d been happy, why wouldn’t he have met her at the airport or at least greeted her here?

She forced herself to be more positive. Maybe there was a good reason for his absence. He was an important businessman. Maybe he had an unavoidable meeting. “When will my father be home?” she asked timidly.

“He is home, miss. Come in, please.” Priscilla gestured for Hope to enter the vestibule and left the door open for Morris, who was right behind them with some of Hope’s luggage.

Hope’s heart sank further. Her father was home and didn’t consider it important enough to meet her? “Will you take me to him?” she asked, unsure of herself.

“That’s not possible. He’s busy right now. You’ll see him later, as he made sure he’d be dining at home, since this is your first night here. Well, come with me. I’ll take you to your rooms.”

Hope followed Priscilla up an elaborate circular staircase. An enormous chandelier hung overhead, dripping with sparkling crystals, and paintings with bold slashes of color decorated the curved walls. Priscilla led her down a hall and through a doorway.

“These will be your rooms,” Priscilla announced. “If there is anything that’s not to your liking, please let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

Hope hugged her backpack tightly to her chest and entered the enormous room. Or rather, suite of rooms. There was a sitting area with a large flat-screen TV and sound system, an alcove with a desk, and a large bedroom, with an adjoining bathroom. Morris must have taken another stairway, as two of her suitcases were already inside, next to the corridor leading to the bedroom.

“Would you like me to unpack for you?” Priscilla offered.

“Oh, no, thank you.” Hope managed a smile, grateful for this small offer of kindness. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to rest for a while.”

Priscilla nodded. “I should’ve realized you’d be tired. You’ve been traveling, and it must all be very difficult for you. Can I get you anything?”

“A cold drink would be nice, thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Priscilla executed another little head-bob as she backed out of the room. No sooner was she gone than Morris appeared with her other suitcases.

Hope had barely had time to open her first bag before Priscilla was back with a silver tray holding a pitcher of iced tea, a glass and a plate of sugar cookies. She placed it on the coffee table in the sitting area. Pulling a small cell phone from her pocket, she set it next to the tray. “I’ll leave this for you. I’ve put my number in it. If you need anything, just call.”

“Thank you,” Hope murmured. She imagined she looked as forlorn and miserable as she felt, because Priscilla gave her a reassuring smile. “You’ll get used to it here. Take all the time you need to settle in.”

Rather than easing Hope’s trepidation, Priscilla’s compassion threatened to destroy what was left of her composure. “I...I...” To her horror, tears welled in her eyes. She dropped her backpack and covered her face with her hands.