Danni Rose (The Sherwood)

She watched him through the windshield. His eyes locked on hers and never left. Inside the cab of the truck, he leaned over and kissed her lips. He wanted to tell her how much her being there for him these last few days had helped him, but Walker had never been good with words.

He grasped her hand in his and lifted it to graze it with his lips. Then he laid her hand on his leg. He wanted her touch on him while he drove to town.

Backing out of the drive, he hesitated at the end and looked both ways then he pulled onto the street and took a deep breath. He was nervous. The bar was his sanctuary. Everyone there loved him like family. Here in town, at the funeral of Jackson’s mother, it would be different. His only saving grace was Danni’s family would also be there.

He was quiet driving through town. A million thoughts going through his head. His mother’s funeral. Wondering where his brother was. Wanting his own vigilante justice. Then he gazed at Danni. That wouldn’t be fair to her. He had hurt her once a long time ago when he went to prison. He remembered the words that she had written him on letters that he kept at Matt’s. He would never get rid of them because if he ever thought of screwing up or taking her for granted he just had to think of them and her love for him. He might not be worthy of Danni, but she deserved the best he could give her because in those letters he began to wonder just how much she really cared for him.

Turning his head, Walker glanced quickly at Danni then back to the road as he drove into town. He felt like her; he belonged in Sherwood. It wasn’t something he could explain. It was something her brothers felt too. Their souls wouldn’t be satisfied anywhere else just like Jackson wasn’t happy here. Walker’s heart was here in this small town in the people that he loved and in the little girl who had become a young woman who would become his wife in two months.

It still wasn’t real to Walker. When he thought his heart would split in two because his mother was gone, he sought Danni. Her comfort mended the shattered pieces, somewhat. She made it better for him and in time his mother’s memories would all be happy ones. Finding Jesse and bringing him to justice would ease that pain he had right now.

Walker turned down the street that would take him to the side street where the funeral was being held. He knew these people. He knew their faces, their business because nothing was sacred in small towns. Their population was less than three thousand. One person told someone something and soon that news spread like wild fire through the town.

Parking beside Matt’s truck, he climbed out and waited for Danni at the front of the vehicle. He took a sharp breath clearing his nerves. She took his hand which he knew was to give him peace as people milled about the porch of the funeral home.

The old house was now a funeral parlor. The second floor never used unless it was to store things. The basement with the walkout in the back was where the bodies were embalmed and made ready for these days. Walker wondered if his mother was here yet. The sheriff might not have released her body yet, but he promised that he would so the Dick’s could have her cremated by Friday for a service. That was her wishes, not his. He would have paid for a funeral, but Artemisia didn’t want Walker to spend his money.

The main floor had three large rooms that had French doors with curtains and one, that once was a massive library with heavy, oak doors where the funerals were held. The other three rooms had once provided the families who lived here with a dining room, a sitting room and a formal living room. In its day, the grand Victorian mansion had been beautiful.

It still was with the tower on one end overlooking the city of Sherwood. The wrap-around porch where people congregated to talk about their loved ones. In the entrance, was a circular staircase. The house had been in the Dick’s family for decades. Only in the last twenty years, did one of them decide, Walker thought it was the grandfather that it would make a good, funeral home. The house was too big, for one man, so he had converted it and moved into a small ranch on the edge of town.

They walked across the asphalt drive that was once the side yard where children played on their swing set or in a sandbox. Walker’s dress shoes made no sound on the sidewalk because he had learned to walk softly but Danni’s dress shoes, a high heeled pump that made her incredible legs look even lovelier clicked against the stone walkway. People turned to see who was coming and some waved and some turned back to their conversations when they saw it was them or rather him.

She gripped his hand harder, reassuring him that it was fine. Danni smiled at him and they walked up the steps together. Steve Dick, the director opened the door and welcomed them. He shook Walker’s hand and kissed Danni’s cheek.

“Good to see you two. Sign the guest book behind you.” Danni signed for them both. He watched her scribble their names. Her handwriting much neater than his. So many had come to pay their respects to Jackson for the loss of his mother

. He wondered if the same crowd would turn out for his mother. She had many friends too, but he was her son and they would be offering him their condolences. That was the difference between today and Friday.

They made their way into the main room. An urn sat on a table with various pictures of Selma Hand placed around it. He didn’t know how many good pictures he had of his mother. She wasn’t one for letting you take pictures of her.

They walked around the room and greeted different people as they slowly made their way towards the front where Jackson was talking to people who approached him. Hugged him. Told him, how sorry they were for his loss. It didn’t make you feel any better, Walker knew. Only time would ease this ache in his chest and stop the twisting in his gut that made food unappealing right now.

They stopped and talked to Danni’s mom and dad who seemed to be spending some time together or was it his imagination. Simon had his hand on Rachel’s back, a form of possession or togetherness. Maybe both? He and Danni exchanged glances and knowing looks. Then Matt clapped his shoulder and he looked over at him.

“You need to relax,” his friend whispered near his ear. “You look like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin.”

“Honestly,” Walker said. “I am ready to crawl out of my skin. This is crazy. In a few days I will be doing the exact same thing but to a much smaller crowd.”

Matt gripped his shoulder. “Don’t underestimate your mom’s importance in this town.”

“I’m not,” Walker replied. “I know how these people feel about me.”

“You’ll see, Walker.” Matt turned with Layla to head up to tell Jackson hello. They only had a babysitter for a few hours. A local teenager who often watched Justin for them.

He turned to Danni, listening to her conversation with her mother and father. Rachel’s eyes were sad. She broke away from them and stopped in front of Walker. Rachel Hatfield gazed up at Walker. “I miss her,” she told him.

He knew exactly who Rachel was referring to. “Me too,” Walker replied.

“We were growing close once again.” She wiped a tear from her eye. Then she gazed down at the floor. “She was so proud of you, Walker.”

He snorted. “Why?”

Rachel grasped his hands in hers. “You are honest and compassionate. You have a sense of duty that was instilled in you when Shank left you and the family.” His eyes met hers. “She was so happy that you and Danni got together.” He had to look away or he would be crying too. “I am happy too.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle and she held onto him. Walker rested his head on the top of her head. “She won’t get to see us married or have our first child,” he whispered.

“I disagree.” Rachel was still wrapped in his arms, but she was gazing up at him now. Their eyes were locked on each other. “I think she can see everything you do. She is still with you, Walker.”