When He Found Me (Road to Refuge Book 1)

by Victoria Bylin

  “Definitely. I’m in 110 percent.”

  Olivia didn’t quite know what to say, so she told him to give her love to Melissa and ended the call.

  She couldn’t help but respect Shane. He was a good man, a hard worker, responsible, and well liked by his colleagues. Her daughter could do worse than marry him, though Olivia wondered how he felt about having—or not having—children.

  She glanced at Cody, saw his closed eyes, and kissed his forehead the way she used to kiss Melissa. With her heart brimming, she ambled to the living room and turned on the Tiffany lamp. Pale light sparkled on the glass tabletop where she had left the photo album. She would have put it away, but Cody liked the pictures of his mother as a little girl. So did Olivia. Her grandson didn’t have Melissa’s brunette hair, but mother and son shared a certain smile.

  Wistful, she trailed her fingers across the slick red cover. She’d put off reading the attic letters long enough, so she sat and removed them from the back of the album. Even photocopied, the father’s handwriting reflected an era when penmanship showed class, artistry, and self-discipline. Olivia couldn’t recall the last time she’d received a handwritten letter, though earlier today she had read and deleted at least seventy emails, none of them worth keeping.

  After cleaning her glasses, she read the first letter. The words sucked her immediately into life in 1895. She pictured Little Miss at the Broderick School for Young Ladies and imagined the father’s pride—until his tone changed to one of worry. Little Miss, it seemed, had a secret. The next several letters described a situation Olivia knew well. A daughter left home and made a mistake; a parent grappled with what to do.

  Reading on, she slipped deeper into the father’s skin—the worry, the fear, the shame. It burned in her stomach until she couldn’t read another word. The letters sat in her lap, the words a blur until her eyes bobbed up to the watercolor landscape of winter hanging on the wall. She craved the serenity of that frozen place, but the ache in her gut drove her to read the next letter.

  The father’s deep voice came to life in her ears. “If there is a child, it will be embraced by us all.”

  Cody . . . Olivia couldn’t imagine life without him. She nodded in full agreement, until her gaze locked on the father’s final words.

  Come home, child. Forgiveness awaits.

  Chills raced down Olivia’s spine, each one an echo of the cruel things she had said the morning Melissa revealed she was pregnant. Olivia had gone to war for her daughter. But somehow fighting for Melissa had turned into fighting with Melissa. Oh, the cost of that battle!

  Her hand flew to her chest, fingers splayed as she bowed her head in regret. She had missed her daughter’s pregnancy, missed rocking Cody to sleep, giving him bottles, those first baby smiles. And why? Because she’d been stubborn and angry. And, if she was going to be completely honest, she’d been embarrassed, even humiliated, to be a high school principal with a pregnant teenage daughter.

  Come home, child. Forgiveness awaits.

  The reverend’s voice whispered to her again. Only this time the words were for her.

  What kind of mother shunned her daughter when she needed her most? Never mind Olivia’s good intentions. She’d been stubborn and prideful—a middle-aged know-it-all who had forgotten how to love others, even her own daughter.

  Through a sheen of tears, she turned to the last picture in the photo album. Looking at Melissa’s face—the scared smile, her courageous eyes—Olivia vowed to fix what she could.

  “MJ,” she said a few times. “MJ.” From now on, she would use the name her daughter preferred.

  Whether or not MJ moved into the condo, Olivia would offer to pay for community college.

  And last, the Bonneville had to go. Surprising her daughter with a new-to-her car would be better than Christmas.

  A weight flew off Olivia’s shoulders. She could hardly wait to see Melissa’s—MJ’s—face! Eager to have the car by Sunday, she Googled car dealerships on her phone.

  She couldn’t help but think of Rick again. He had loved anything with tires and an engine, the bigger the better. Did he still live in Alaska? Or had he moved again? It was late here in Wyoming, but he’d always been a night owl. Why not call him and satisfy her curiosity? Maybe then she could delete his number once and for all. In a burst of courage, she made the call.

  His phone rang once, twice. A nervous prickle raced up her neck. What in the world had she done? Maybe he wouldn’t answer. The third ring brought some relief. She’d leave a message saying she had called by mistake, something businesslike. Breathing deeply, she steeled herself for his voicemail greeting.

  “Livy?” The shock registered across the miles, wherever he was.

  “Hello, Rick.” She dragged her hand through her stiff hair, no doubt ruining the style. “I—uh—I was just thinking about you.”

  “It’s great to hear from you.” He paused for a breath, maybe to recover. “I mean it.”

  They talked like the old friends they were, sharing stories about friends, work, and their families. He was living in Denver and teaching at a community college. She told him all about MJ and Cody, and how much she loved being Grammie.

  When they hung up, Olivia had yet another surprise for her daughter. In three weeks, dear old Mom had a date with a handsome younger man who rode a Harley and somehow made her brave.

  Chapter 25

  Three days after the LEEP, MJ and Shane flew first-class back to Refuge courtesy of the Cougars. The jet didn’t hit a bit of turbulence, but the smooth flight only intensified the churning in MJ’s mind. Physically, she felt fine. Mentally? Not so much.

  Falling in love with Shane challenged her in all new ways. To love meant to trust—to believe that he loved her as-is. Maybe he did, but at what cost to himself? It also meant embracing her female self—the part of her that she had walled off in her bedroom. Embracing her sexuality meant being vulnerable. And so far, being vulnerable had meant being abandoned and hurt.

  By the time the plane touched down in Refuge, MJ was tied in knots and ready to go back to simply being Cody’s mom. Shane collected their luggage, and they headed to her house, where her mother would meet them with Cody.

  MJ could hardly wait to hug her son. She and Shane had presents for him, and she had bought a seagull paperweight for her mom. The blue glass, pinkish sand, and white seagull matched her mother’s living room to perfection. MJ had picked it out after a long talk with Lyn about whether or not to accept her mother’s offer to move back home. The strings still gave MJ pause. Was she being selfish or wise? She truly couldn’t decide.

  Shane steered down her street. The trees were barren now, but the late-autumn sky was high and blue with just a few wispy clouds. As they approached the house, she saw her mother’s Volvo parked on the street, but the little red SUV in her driveway wasn’t familiar.

  “I wonder who that is,” she said wearily.

  “I don’t know.” Shane parked behind her mother’s Volvo, and they climbed out of his SUV. “I’ll get the luggage later.”

  They were halfway up the driveway when the front door burst open and Cody barreled toward her. “Mommy!”

  MJ hugged him so hard he complained he couldn’t breathe. He wiggled out of her grasp and ran to Shane. Grinning, they exchanged their trademark high-fives.

  “MJ!”

  Her mother’s voice—but the wrong name. Confused, MJ turned and saw her mother hurrying in her direction. She braced for their usual stick-figure hug. But before she could stiffen, her mother wrapped her tightly in her arms and squeezed hard—as hard as MJ had hugged Cody, even harder.

  Laughter bubbled into MJ’s throat. She couldn’t recall the last time they’d hugged so freely. But why now? She remembered the red car—a Ford Escape—and wondered who was here and if something bad had happened. She pulled back just enough to see her mother’s face. Brown eyes that matched her own glistened with tears. Olivia Townsend never cried, at least not in front of other people.
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br />   MJ’s heart jumped into her throat. “Is everything all right?”

  “It is now.”

  “I don’t understand. You seem . . .” Different. Happy. MJ shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Olivia took both of MJ’s hands in hers. “I read the letters from Grandpa Jake’s attic. They changed everything. I should have asked you to come home. There are so many things that I regret—”

  “Oh, Mom—”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course!” MJ hugged her mom again. They cried happy tears and shared apologies and regrets until MJ sensed Cody and Shane watching them. Worried her son might be confused, she turned to him. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”

  Cody turned to Shane, a knowing look on his six-year-old face. “You were right.”

  “About what?” MJ asked.

  Shane’s eyes twinkled. “I told him girls sometimes cry when they’re happy.”

  “We do,” the women said in unison.

  Turning to share another smile, MJ recalled the first word out of her mother’s mouth. “You called me MJ.”

  “Yes, I did,” Olivia replied, sounding proud. “I’m sure I’ll forget now and then, but I’ll get used to it.”

  Hearing it once was enough. “It’s okay, Mom. You can call me Melissa.”

  “I do like that name, but—oh! That reminds me—I don’t know if Little Miss is your great-great-grandmother or not. It’s quite a story, and my own mother never breathed a word of it.”

  MJ tucked away the disappointment. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Probably not, but the letters did their job.” A fresh sheen dampened Olivia’s eyes. “Now I have two more surprises for you.”

  “Two?” MJ was too stunned to think.

  “The money I put aside for UCLA is sitting in the bank. Whether you move in with me or not, I’d like to pay for community college.”

  MJ’s jaw dropped. An education! A career with a future! Best of all, the gift came with no strings, only love. Her hand flew to her galloping heart. “Mom, that’s amazing of you. I’m—I’m speechless.” She lifted her arms for another hug, but her mother raised both hands to stop her.

  “Wait. There’s one more surprise.”

  Cody chimed in. “I know what it is.”

  MJ glanced at her son, then at Shane. The next thing she knew, her mom was pressing a key fob into her hand. “I hope you like the car behind you, because it’s yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Cody helped me pick it out.” Grinning, she tousled his hair into a little boy mess. “We did a good job, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah!”

  MJ couldn’t stop gaping. “A car? You bought me a car? Mom—” A sob burst out of her throat. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a moment like this one. She didn’t deserve her mother’s generosity—not by a long shot. Humbled and stunned, she might have collapsed if Shane hadn’t looped his arm around her waist.

  The strain of the past three days—the past three months, the past six years—melted into joyful tears. They flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails. Shane had told Cody the truth—women cried when they were happy. She needed to blow her nose, but her purse was in Shane’s SUV.

  Seeing the need, her mother reached in her own pocket and handed her a tissue.

  MJ accepted it gratefully, smiling to herself because she felt like a little girl again. “Mom, I can’t thank you enough. The car is perfect. I don’t know what to say—”

  “Just enjoy it.” Olivia hugged her again. “And drive safe!”

  “I will.” Laughing now, MJ finished blowing her nose, then held up the key fob. “Who wants to go for a ride?”

  “Me!” Cody shouted.

  Olivia beamed another smile at her grandson. “Your mom will be driving you to soccer practice, piano lessons—”

  “Piano?” Cody pretended to gag.

  “Hey.” Shane play-punched him on the shoulder. “Music is cool. Take the lessons.”

  Cody wrinkled his nose, then laughed at himself.

  As the four of them walked around the Ford Escape, Olivia shared details about the purchase. “It’s three years old, but it’s low mileage. I bought the warranty, of course.”

  MJ hid a smile. Her mother always bought warranties. Even her toaster had a warranty.

  When they reached the car, she opened the driver’s door and oohed and ahhed. All the newest electronics! Heated seats! Power windows that worked! She said “wow” over and over, until Shane tapped on the roof.

  “How about that ride?” he asked.

  She settled in the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors. Shane offered the front seat to her mom, but Olivia chose to ride in the back next to Cody in the car seat already installed. She climbed in, and Shane took the front.

  As he latched his seatbelt, Olivia leaned forward. “Shane? When we’re not in school, please call me Olivia.”

  “Thank you. I will.” He traded a pleased smile with MJ, then surveyed the dashboard and grinned. “I bet you won’t miss the Bonneville.”

  “Not a bit!” But a lump wedged in her throat. The old sedan had been a good car for a lot of years, the one thing her father had given to her. She’d miss it—but just a little.

  She started the engine, then turned to her mom and Cody in the back seat. “Where to?”

  “Let’s just take off and see where we end up,” Olivia replied. “A friend of mine calls that a joy ride.”

  Shane hung his elbow out the open window. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Me too,” Cody chimed in.

  MJ backed out of the driveway and headed for the hills. In the distance, mountains wore a crown of early snow. Even in November, a month caught between the brilliance of autumn and the tedium of winter, the landscape offered a serene beauty that embraced the inevitability of change. With her hands on the steering wheel, she listened to Cody banter with Shane, her mother praising the landscape, and the steady purr of the engine.

  A joy ride. Yes. Tomorrow and its worries could wait.

  A week later, Shane drove himself to the Sunday morning service at the log cabin church, also known as Refuge Christian Fellowship. MJ, who had arrived earlier to help with hospitality, was already seated in a middle row. Cody was in the children’s program, so they were alone together but surrounded by familiar faces. In just a few months, Refuge had become home to him.

  The worship music watered the seeds in his soul, while the sermon nourished those seeds with wisdom. In a booming voice, the pastor quoted words from Isaiah. “Who is among you that fears the Lord, That obeys the voice of His servant, That walks in darkness and has no light? Let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God.”

  Shane held tightly to MJ’s hand as the pastor taught. They had no light when it came to a potential hysterectomy, but he had no difficulty at all trusting God to guide them. They already had Cody. If they couldn’t conceive, why not adopt? And even if they could conceive, he still liked the idea of adoption. There was more than one way to make a family, another advantage humans enjoyed over salmon.

  When the congregation left the sanctuary, Shane sought out the minister, an older man with a shock of white hair and a gravelly voice. They found a private corner and prayed for Daisy, then Shane joined MJ and Cody in a community room buzzing with activity. She declined his lunch invitation with the excuse that she needed to pick up groceries, so he drove home and busied himself with grading papers from his world history class. Two hours later, he finished the last one, stood to stretch, and peered down at MJ’s new car. He hadn’t heard her return.

  He hated to see her living out today’s words from Isaiah—walking in darkness with no light. He ached to give her a flashlight, at least. But the rest of the sermon had been a warning to him. If he pushed her instead of waiting for God, they’d both be miserable.

  The back door to her house burst open. Cody, his brow furrowed, charged full speed toward the
stairs to Shane’s apartment, shouting as he crossed the driveway. “Shane! You have to come right now.”

  Shane bolted for the door, flung it wide, and pounded down the steps—never mind his bum knee. “What’s wrong?”

  “My mom’s in the attic—”

  “Did she fall?” Those pull-down stairs—but why would she be in the attic? They had emptied it weeks ago.

  Cody halted at the bottom of the steps. “She’s fine, but the mouse isn’t.”

  “What mouse?”

  “The one in the ceiling. She bought traps, but I think we should catch it and keep it in a box. Brandon has a dog, and his brother has an iguana.” Excitement gleamed in Cody’s eyes. “A mouse would be cool.”

  MJ wasn’t in mortal danger, so Shane hunkered down in front of Cody. “Field mice don’t make good pets. You can buy tame ones at the store, but I can tell you from experience, they stink.”

  “They do?”

  “Yeah.” At least the males, who marked territory. He’d learned that lesson when he was a little older than Cody.

  The boy’s face puckered with determination. “I don’t care. I want a pet.”

  Shane was in over his head, so he opened the back door. “Come on. Let’s go help your mom.”

  With Cody in the lead, they jogged up the stairs. The ladder to the attic was down, and MJ’s footsteps drummed over their heads. Shane wondered if she had set the traps a while ago and was replacing them, or if this was a first assault. Either way, he needed to prepare Cody for the spoils of war.

  The boy had one foot on the ladder when Shane clasped his shoulder. “Have you ever seen a dead mouse?”

  “No.”

  “It’s gross. And kind of sad.”

  Cody thought for a moment. “But we have to save the mice.” He lowered his chin and charged up the ladder. At the top, he yelled, “Pee-yew” and scooted down as fast as he could. “I don’t want a mouse anymore!”

  Shane hid a smile. “Good call.”

  “Want to play catch?” Cody could turn on a dime.

  “Maybe later. I’m going to help your mom.” He climbed into the attic, empty now except for MJ, a pile of wooden mouse traps, and a jar of peanut butter. A beam of light poured through a high window, capturing dust motes and illuminating the dim space. The dead mouse smell, while obnoxious, didn’t bowl him over.