Trixie looked from her mother to Harlan. Her grandfather seemed to age right there in front of her. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he said, his eyes watering up, his accusing gaze shifting to Pamela.
Shrugging daintily, Pamela rushed on. “I’ve fought against it and tried to keep up appearances, of course, but this marriage can’t be fixed. No amount of prayer or reasoning is going to change Brant Dunaway into a decent, reasonable human being. I’ve discussed this thoroughly with Harlan, and he’s been very generous about letting me continue to live here, for your sake. I’ve had counseling with Reverend Henry, but it’s just too late. Your father expected me to give up my life here, everything I’ve come to love, everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve for both you and for this family, to go up there and live in the boonies.” She waved a hand. “I’m too old and too established here to start over.”
“I can’t believe this,” Trixie said, turning to her grandfather for support. “Do you agree with her?”
Harlan cleared his throat and sat back heavily in his Queen Anne chair. “I’m trying to remain neutral. I know how much that land means to your pappy, so I can’t keep him from doing something he’s wanted for such a long time. Heck, he’s got more money than he’ll ever need, what with my holdings and his own money from endorsements, but he’s determined to do this thing his own way. He’s basically told me to stay out of it.” He glanced down the table at Pamela again. “But he sure wanted your mama to come up there with him. Thought it might do them good to get away from everything…and start over.”
Trixie stared at her mother’s unyielding face. “Couldn’t you just try it, for a little while, Mama? It sounds like Daddy really wants to make things up to you.”
“Hah!” Pamela interjected, her brown eyes flashing fire. “He should have thought about that years ago when he left me for weeks at a time to travel the rodeo circuit. You’re right, Harlan. He never needed the money. We could have had a good life together, if he’d only given it a chance.”
“And what about you, Mother?” Trixie said in a low, trembling voice. “Did you ever give him a chance? You know how much he loved being a bull rider, yet you never once supported him or gave him any encouragement. Why did you marry my daddy, anyway?”
Pamela looked her daughter straight in the eye. “I’ve often asked myself that same question. But I can tell you this, young lady, because I’m a Christian, I tried to make this marriage work. I guess some prayers just can’t be answered.”
Hurt and disgusted, Trixie turned back to Harlan. “How can you sit there and let her talk about your only son that way?”
Harlan lifted up out of his chair. “Your mother knows exactly how I feel about the subject of my son. I love Brant with all of my heart, and I’ll continue to support his efforts up in Arkansas. But for your sake, and for the sake of this family, I can’t very well put Pamela out on the street. We will continue to be discreet about this, and we will continue to act like Dunaways, regardless of any rift in this family.”
Trixie shot up out of her chair, rattling dishes and upsetting water glasses in a very unladylike fashion that made her oh-so-proper mother wince. “I get it. Close ranks and put our best face forward, no matter how torn apart this family really is. Show the world the perfect life of the Dunaways, the family everyone in Dallas can model their own miserable lives after, right? Pretend we’re good, upstanding Christians who attend church every Sunday and give a hefty tithe each and every month.”
“That’s enough, Tricia,” Pamela said. “We are good people and we have nothing, nothing at all, to be ashamed of.”
“Except the truth,” Trixie retorted. “We’re living a facade, a lie, Mother. And I for one, won’t continue it.” Slamming her linen dinner napkin down, she headed for the foyer, then turned to face her stunned mother and disapproving grandfather. “And I won’t be going to Europe with you. I’m going to Arkansas, to see my father, and I intend to stay there until this fall. But don’t worry, I’ll be home in time for college. So you just keep on bragging to all of your friends. And while I’m gone, you can continue to keep up appearances to save face, Mother, since that seems to be so much more important to you than trying to save your marriage.”
In the end, however, even Pamela’s manipulations and sugar-coated half truths couldn’t save face. When the Dallas press got wind of the impending divorce, things turned nasty, and Pamela turned vindictive. After demanding a multimillion-dollar settlement from Brant, Pamela went to Europe alone and made headlines by being seen with some very eligible men. Of course, Pamela managed to keep things highly proper and above reproach, stating that she loved her daughter and only wanted to protect Tricia Maria from all of this hurt and pain.
She never stopped to think how much she’d hurt both Trixie and her father. No, Pamela always managed to put a spin on the truth, to twist it to her advantage and to come out, as Harlan put it, “smelling like a rose.”
So that summer Trixie went to Arkansas to find her own peace of mind, to regroup and reassess her life, to get back at her domineering, self-righteous mother, and to get reacquainted with the father she loved and adored.
And…wound up meeting a man who changed her life.
That summer Tricia Maria Dunaway fell in love with Logan Maxwell.
That fall Tricia Maria Dunaway did not enroll in college at Southern Methodist University, because she was expecting Logan Maxwell’s child.
As the sleek limousine pulled into the long drive leading up to the mansion, Trixie glanced up to the sign over the white fretwork gate, proclaiming the surrounding thousand acres of prime Texas real estate to be Dunaway’s Hideaway.
But Trixie knew in her heart, this was no hideaway. She knew she’d never be able to hide from the truth, no matter how secluded and protected her grandfather’s estate might be, no matter how much power the Dunaway name carried in Texas, no matter how hard her mother had managed to put a pretty face on the worst of situations by guarding Trixie’s great sin with all the alert attention and precise organization of a qualified damage control expert.
Even though no one, absolutely no one in Dallas, knew about the baby, especially not Rad’s blue-blooded family, Trixie knew in her heart, knew in her soul, that somewhere out there she had a child. Once, she’d accused her mother of living a lie; now she had to live one each and every day of her life. Unlike Pamela and Harlan, and even her father, she couldn’t forever stay in a state of determined denial. It was her great secret, her great burden to bear. She had yet to forgive herself for her one youthful indiscretion, or for allowing those around her to force her to let her child be sent away like a parcel of dirty laundry. Sometimes, she lay awake at night, asking God to show her the way, to give her comfort, to help her bear the sorrow of her secret. And she wondered, did God ever hear her pleas? Or like her misguided mother, was she praying for all the wrong things?
But tomorrow, tomorrow when she at last faced Logan again, as much as she now believed in the absolute truth, she hoped the truth wouldn’t be plastered there on her own face. Because he could never know the truth.
Logan could never, ever know that she’d been forced to give his child up for adoption. Only she and her immediate family could ever know that great shame. Because of the Dunaway power, Logan hadn’t had a say in the matter, at all. He had no idea that a baby had even been conceived.
Again, Reverend Henry’s words came back to haunt her.
“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.”
Dear God, she silently prayed now, hidden behind her dark glasses, shielded by the touch of Rad’s hand on her own, Will I ever be forgiven? How can I face Logan, knowing what I did? How can I enter into marriage with Rad, with a such a devastating secret between us? How can I ever be whole again?
Tomorrow she would take Brant Dunaway’s remains back to the place he loved most.