He’d never talked about it since. Now she understood why. No wonder he always seemed so uncomfortable whenever she inched too close to the subject of widowhood.
“But why?” she finally managed to ask Carla. “How could that have happened? Do they really think she, you know…”
Carla shrugged. “Offed herself? Who knows. Like I said, it happened before he moved here. I can’t believe you haven’t heard this before, Daria.”
Daria put her hands to her face. “Oh, Carla, that’s just awful! But”—she wrinkled her brow—“I’m sure Cole told me that she was killed in an accident.”
“Maybe it’s just easier to tell it that way. You have to admit the real story is pretty shocking.”
“I can’t believe my parents never mentioned it.”
“People in town really like Cole, and everyone knows he doesn’t like to talk about her.”
Daria thought for a moment. “It’s more likely that they didn’t want to upset me . My parents have been pretty protective since I came back from Colombia.”
Carla gave her a sympathetic smile and leaned back against the counter. “They probably figure you have enough problems of your own.”
Daria opened her mouth to reply, but the slam of the back door stopped her. She heard the distinctive thud of Cole’s work boots on the tile floor and felt her face grow warm. She hoped he hadn’t overheard them talking about him.
“Carla?” he hollered before he reached the front office.
Carla threw Daria a here-goes-nothing look, jumped up, and met him in the doorway. “Yes?”
He appeared to be in a better mood, and his manner was polite and almost friendly now. “Can you help me out in the barn for a minute? I think I’m looking at a C-section with this mare, and Travis is up to his ears doing blood tests on Meyerses’ hogs.”
“Sure. Let me get my coat on.”
Carla grabbed her lab coat and headed down the hall toward the back door. Cole started to follow, then turned abruptly. Hanging on the doorjamb, he swung around and stuck his head through the doorway of the office, looking contrite and boyish in spite of his day-old beard.
“Good morning, Daria.” He gave her a quick smile and greeted her as though he was seeing her for the first time that morning. Just as quickly he was out the back door again.
“Good morning, Cole.” She waved to the empty air, baffled by his sudden change of mood.
She sighed heavily, dumped the dregs of her coffee in the sink, and headed back to the kennel to feed the dogs. The conversation she’d just had with Carla gnawed at her. The things Carla had related about the way Bridgette Hunter died didn’t fit with the information Cole had given her. She didn’t like the way that fact made her feel.
When Daria went to pick Natalie up at her parents’ house that night, she asked her mother about the rumor concerning Bridgette Hunter.
“Yes, I did hear that she committed suicide. But you know how people in this town talk, Daria.”
“Mom! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Margo perched on a high barstool at the kitchen counter where Daria was seated. She gave her daughter a searching look. “Why, would it have mattered, Daria?”
“I don’t know. It’s just—I don’t know, it just seems strange. Cole is so easygoing and happy all the time. It just doesn’t fit.” She picked up a pencil from the counter and started scribbling on a scrap of paper, retracing her lines over and over until the lead shone against the white page. “You don’t know why, do you?”
“Why she killed herself?”
Daria nodded, not looking up.
“Honey, who knows why anyone ever does something like that?” A strange timbre had come into her voice, the tone that told her that her mother understood more than Daria had intended to reveal. “This really has you upset, doesn’t it?” Margo said.
“I-I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Look at me, Daria.”
Daria lifted her head, trying not to look as sheepish as she felt.
“You
“But why?” she finally managed to ask Carla. “How could that have happened? Do they really think she, you know…”
Carla shrugged. “Offed herself? Who knows. Like I said, it happened before he moved here. I can’t believe you haven’t heard this before, Daria.”
Daria put her hands to her face. “Oh, Carla, that’s just awful! But”—she wrinkled her brow—“I’m sure Cole told me that she was killed in an accident.”
“Maybe it’s just easier to tell it that way. You have to admit the real story is pretty shocking.”
“I can’t believe my parents never mentioned it.”
“People in town really like Cole, and everyone knows he doesn’t like to talk about her.”
Daria thought for a moment. “It’s more likely that they didn’t want to upset me . My parents have been pretty protective since I came back from Colombia.”
Carla gave her a sympathetic smile and leaned back against the counter. “They probably figure you have enough problems of your own.”
Daria opened her mouth to reply, but the slam of the back door stopped her. She heard the distinctive thud of Cole’s work boots on the tile floor and felt her face grow warm. She hoped he hadn’t overheard them talking about him.
“Carla?” he hollered before he reached the front office.
Carla threw Daria a here-goes-nothing look, jumped up, and met him in the doorway. “Yes?”
He appeared to be in a better mood, and his manner was polite and almost friendly now. “Can you help me out in the barn for a minute? I think I’m looking at a C-section with this mare, and Travis is up to his ears doing blood tests on Meyerses’ hogs.”
“Sure. Let me get my coat on.”
Carla grabbed her lab coat and headed down the hall toward the back door. Cole started to follow, then turned abruptly. Hanging on the doorjamb, he swung around and stuck his head through the doorway of the office, looking contrite and boyish in spite of his day-old beard.
“Good morning, Daria.” He gave her a quick smile and greeted her as though he was seeing her for the first time that morning. Just as quickly he was out the back door again.
“Good morning, Cole.” She waved to the empty air, baffled by his sudden change of mood.
She sighed heavily, dumped the dregs of her coffee in the sink, and headed back to the kennel to feed the dogs. The conversation she’d just had with Carla gnawed at her. The things Carla had related about the way Bridgette Hunter died didn’t fit with the information Cole had given her. She didn’t like the way that fact made her feel.
When Daria went to pick Natalie up at her parents’ house that night, she asked her mother about the rumor concerning Bridgette Hunter.
“Yes, I did hear that she committed suicide. But you know how people in this town talk, Daria.”
“Mom! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Margo perched on a high barstool at the kitchen counter where Daria was seated. She gave her daughter a searching look. “Why, would it have mattered, Daria?”
“I don’t know. It’s just—I don’t know, it just seems strange. Cole is so easygoing and happy all the time. It just doesn’t fit.” She picked up a pencil from the counter and started scribbling on a scrap of paper, retracing her lines over and over until the lead shone against the white page. “You don’t know why, do you?”
“Why she killed herself?”
Daria nodded, not looking up.
“Honey, who knows why anyone ever does something like that?” A strange timbre had come into her voice, the tone that told her that her mother understood more than Daria had intended to reveal. “This really has you upset, doesn’t it?” Margo said.
“I-I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Look at me, Daria.”
Daria lifted her head, trying not to look as sheepish as she felt.
“You
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