“You let yourself get your hopes up, and you know how that always ends.”
For once, she would have had someone’s undivided attention. When did that ever happen? The last three boyfriends had showered her with expensive gifts and one excuse after another when they had to cancel plans, just like her parents always did.
The Corvette had been the latest present from her parents for graduating from Columbia with her bachelors degree. They hadn’t even been at the graduation. A cruise to Greece and then Christmas in Tuscany had been more important.
Toys and trinkets, closets full of clothes, the latest electronic gadgets, her own condo in Maine, and too many other things she couldn’t remember were supposed to make up for the lack of attention her parents showed her. They were all meaningless things. The more stuff she had, the lonelier she’d become over the years.
Sherri opened her eyes. She lifted the blanket away from her head. The room was plunged in darkness. The fire in the fireplace was almost out. She raised her head when something banged against the window. Had she fallen asleep? It was almost dark outside.
She stood and walked to the window to look out. The noise that had woken her came from a branch that kept tapping the glass. The slight breeze that had picked up when she and Chad had arrived in the afternoon had turned into a strong wind. A few raindrops pelted against the window, too.
“Great. What if it rains so much that the road becomes too muddy for the car?” The Corvette was fine on paved roads, but there had been a few precarious dips and potholes on the gravel and dirt road coming off the main highway to reach the cabin. Water and mud would only make it worse.
Sherri grabbed her phone off the coffee table and checked the time. Six thirty. Chad had been gone about two hours. He was probably back in the city by now. Her stomach growled. She headed for the kitchen and checked the refrigerator. At least he’d carried the food they’d brought into the cabin when they’d arrived, or he would have driven off with that as well. The problem was, she had no idea how to cook steaks, let alone get the grill lit.
Her eyes fell to the two bottles of wine that lay on the top shelf. They’d be nice and chilled by now.
Sherri shrugged. Why not? If she was going to be here by herself all night, she might as well enjoy one of the bottles. No sense saving both for when Chad returned tomorrow. Reaching for the $200 bottle, she rummaged through one of the drawers to find the bottle opener.
When she finally pulled the cork free, she held the bottle to her nose and inhaled the flavorful aroma, then held it to her lips and tilted her head back. The subtle fruity liquid slid down her throat, instantly warming her insides. One swallow turned into two, until she drained several glasses as if she was dying of thirst.
She opened the fridge again and took out a wedge of cheese and some grapes, and placed them on a plate. It wasn’t exactly the steak and lobster dinner Chad had promised to cook her tonight, but it would do for now. The wine eased her tension and bad mood, and by the time she returned to the couch in the living room, more than half the bottle was gone.
The fire in the fireplace was almost out. There were only coals left, glowing a bright orange. Sherri staggered to the hearth and added some more wood, but it didn’t catch fire. Fumbling with the lighter, she finally managed to ignite an end of one of the logs. She smiled when the flames grew larger, then sat back on the couch to watch her fire.
Her cell phone on the coffee table caught her attention as she reached for her glass of wine that she’d set down. Should she call Chad? Maybe he could drive back here tonight rather than leave her stranded all alone. She shook her head. He’d said he’d call her when he got back to the city. She’d only appear desperate if she called him.
The branch outside the window slapped against the cabin with greater ferocity, and water pelted the glass. There was definitely a storm brewing. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain too hard, and would stop soon. A slight shiver raced down her spine as her feelings of unease increased.
Sherri emptied the glass of wine in one big swallow. Maybe she would be able to sleep if she finished the rest of the bottle, and by morning, Chad would be back. She scrolled through the contacts in her phone, and tapped on Lori’s name. Maybe if she talked to one of her friends for a while, the creepy feeling of being alone in this cabin in the woods would go away. Lori picked up on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
Sherri sat up straighter and plastered a smile on her face as if her friend stood in front of her. “Lori, how’s it going?”
There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line. “Sherri? What a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to call.”
There was a lot of noise in the background, and Sherri strained her ear, pressing the phone closer to her head. Music played, and people were laughing and talking.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” she yelled into the phone.
“I’m sorry, Sherri. I’m at a party. But now that I have you on the line, I have to tell you that it was really great of you to let Chad borrow your car.”
Sherri’s heart dropped to her stomach. How did Lori know about that?
“What do you mean?”
“Chad said you were spending the weekend at your parents’ cabin, so he picked me up a half an hour ago. He said you loaned him your car for the weekend.” Lori giggled. “I have to say, it was nice seeing people like Anne turn green with envy when we showed up.”
A slow-building pressure grew in Sherri’s throat until it felt like a lump that threatened to squeeze off her air supply. She swallowed several times, or tried to swallow, but the pain only increased. Her hands began to tremble, and she blinked away the moisture that pooled in her eyes.
“Sherri?”
“I need to go.”
Sherri barely got the words out. Whether her so-called friend had heard wasn’t important. She ended the call and dropped her phone on the couch.
Pulling her legs up, Sherri wrapped her arms around her knees, letting the tears fall. She’d thought wrong that Chad was different, and didn’t simply see her as a rich girl to get him things he wanted. He’d used her just like everyone else.
She sniffed, and wiped the sleeve of her shirt across her face. The anger grew steadily, taking over from the pain of betrayal. She’d misjudged Chad, but she’d known a long time ago that Lori wasn’t a friend to her. She only ever called when she needed to borrow money, or a favor that usually involved money.
You have no friends, Sherri.
Sure, people wanted to hang out with her, but she didn’t have one or two close friends in whom she could confide everything. For as long as she could remember, her friends were bought and paid for. She was the first one they all came to for favors, but no one ever asked her to simply hang out together.
Was she truly that bad of a person? She’d heard the whispers plenty of times, that she was nothing but a spoiled rich girl who always got everything she desired. While it was true that she’d never wanted for anything, the things she yearned for the most – acceptance for who she was, friendship, and someone who cared about her and not her money – were something her rich father couldn’t buy, and apparently, money was all she had going for her.
Sherri unfolded herself from the couch and stood on shaky legs. The sensation of pins and needles prickling her legs was almost painful as blood rushed to her toes. She reached for her wine glass to take it to the kitchen and refill it. Heck, why bother with the glass? It was easier to drink straight from the bottle. Might as well drink the second one, too.
She’d almost reached the kitchen when the lights went out, plunging everything in darkness. Butterflies churned in her belly. Now what?
“Ouch.” Sherri gritted her teeth when her toe connected with something solid. It had to be one of the barstools. After a few choice expletives, she held out her hands to grope for the kitchen counter.
The sound of tree branches scraping the outside of the cabin and the glass on the windows seemed to be amplified in the
darkness.
“Just my luck that the power would go out,” she grumbled.
There was a tiny bit of light coming from the fireplace in the living room, but it was barely enough to let her see anything.
“There has to be a flashlight somewhere.” Groping her way around the kitchen, she opened drawers and cabinets, and went by feel. There was no flashlight to be found, but her hands did connect with at least six candles in one of the drawers.
“Better than nothing,” she mumbled, and headed toward the light in the living room.
Once again, she bumped into something, this time with her hip. Startled, she dropped the candles, which fell to the ground with a dull thud. Biting back more curse words, Sherri crawled on the floor, feeling for the candles that had escaped her grasp. She found one, then blew air through her lips in frustration.
“This has got to be the worst night of my life.”
The room illuminated for a second as a flash of lightning entered through the window, and shortly after, thunder cracked outside. With a pounding heart, Sherri crawled to the couch and groped for her phone. Her hand shook when she pressed the number to her mother’s cellphone. At least she had service, but the call went to voice mail.
Holding back tears of frustration, she tried her father’s number. A loud sigh escaped her lips when he answered on the fifth ring.
“Sherri?”
“Dad, I’m at the cabin, and I need you to come and get me.”
“Cabin? What are you doing out there?” Her father sounded annoyed rather than concerned.
Sherri sniffled. “I came to spend the weekend, but I’ve changed my mind. The power went out, and there’s a storm. I need you to come get me, please.”
“Are you drunk, Sherri?”
“Maybe a little,” she mumbled. That had nothing to do with needing someone to come and get her, so she wouldn’t have to spend the night in this cabin, alone and with no power.
Her father didn’t reply right away. “I can’t leave right now, Sherri. I’m in the middle of some important work.”
Sherri pressed her eyes shut. “What about me? Am I not important?”
He laughed. “Of course you’re important.” He sighed loudly. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll send someone to come and get you, if you’re really that concerned.”
Sherri shook her head in defeat. It was better than nothing. “Fine. Please tell them to hurry.” She ended the call and reached for the blanket on the couch, then curled up on the ground, feeling lonelier that ever.
She’d barely closed her eyes when a loud knock on the door startled her.
“That was fast.”
She stood on wobbly legs and staggered in the direction of the door. The wine had dulled her senses, and it didn’t matter anymore that it was dark in the cabin, or that the rain continued to pelt against the windows. It didn’t matter that her father didn’t care enough to come and pick her up himself.
She scoffed before she reached the door. Who was she kidding? Of course it mattered, and it hurt. At least the wine dulled the pain in her heart, if only momentarily.
“Who’s out there?” she called, leaning against the heavy wooden door. The wine hadn’t made her completely careless.
“I’ve arrived to take you away from here if you’d like to leave,” came the answer.
Sherri ripped the door open. Of course she wanted to leave, and not ever come back. This weekend had been one of the worst mistakes she’d ever made.
“Thank you for coming so quickly. I just need to find my shoes and coat, and you can drive me home.”
The man standing on the other side of the door wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. Her father’s employees were usually a lot younger. This man, with his grandfatherly smile and gray, nearly white hair that stood out against the darkness, seemed a rather odd choice. He looked old enough that he shouldn’t be driving anymore, especially on a rainy night on dirt roads in the middle of nowhere. He might get them both lost.
“Come in,” she offered. No doubt he was getting wet. “Sorry, but there’s no light. The power went out a while ago.”
The old man stepped into the cabin. He held a flashlight in his hand, which he shone into the room, making him look eerie. He smiled. Sherri didn’t smile back, but found her shoes where she’d removed them hours ago at the foot of the couch. She grabbed her jacket off the peg on the wall.
“I’m ready to go.” The quicker she was home in her bed, the better. The lack of food, along with all the wine she’d drunk, was making her stomach churn. A bite of cheese and a handful of grapes hadn’t been enough to soak up all that alcohol.
“How much did my father pay you to drive out here so fast in the dark and rain?”
The old man continued to smile. “I don’t require payment for my service. I came because you needed someone to take you away from here.”
Sherri scoffed. “You’ve got that right. This has been a miserable day.”
“A little rain shouldn’t make for a miserable day.”
Sherri laughed. “It’s not the rain, although it once again confirms that no one really cares about me, not even my parents.”
“Your parents gave you everything you wanted over the years. Whenever you cried, they gave you a new toy. You’ve never wanted for anything.”
“Well, I’m glad you know so much about my life. Did my father warn you that I throw tantrums when I don’t get what I want?” Bitterness grew in her as she spat the words. Clearly, the wine was no longer masking her pain and disappointment.
The old man stepped up to her, the shadows cast by the flashlight he held making it impossible to see him clearly. Or maybe it was the wine. He still wore a warm and friendly smile, which seemed genuine rather than plastered on with fake sincerity that Sherri was so used to seeing from her so-called friends.
“Miss Stucki, your parents spoiled you and gave you everything to silence you when you had temper tantrums as a child. It didn’t take long for you to learn that all you had to do was cry when you wanted something.”
Sherri gaped at the old man, at a loss for words. Why would he say such a thing? She smirked. He was right, but how did he know that?
“What I really wanted was my parents’ attention, but it was easier for them to silence me by give me things.”
The old man nodded. “And that is how you’ve trained the people around you. You give them what they want, hoping to buy their affection, but it doesn’t work that way. You should have learned that by now.”
Why were they standing in this dark cabin, talking about this? They should be leaving so she could get home and try and forget about today. Instead, she stood there, asking, “How do I get people to like me for me, and not for my possessions?”
The old man chuckled. “That is something you will have to learn and figure out for yourself.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Am I truly such an unlikable person?” She turned away from the old man and headed for the door, blinking back the tears. There was no reason for him to answer her question. “I just wish there was somewhere I could go where it’s not about money all the time.”
“It’s a long drive back to town, Miss Stucki. Why don’t you drink this before we get on the road?”
The old man handed her a cup. Sherri held it up to her nose. It wasn’t wine. It didn’t smell like anything. She took a sip. It tasted like plain water, and made her realize she really was thirsty.
“Thanks.” She slipped into her jacket. “Let’s go.”
The old man nodded. He held the door open for her. “By the time we get back to town, things might look a whole lot different.”
Chapter 2
Sherri stirred and shifted. A dull, throbbing pain pounded through her skull the moment she moved, eliciting a slight groan from her throat. She raised her hand to her temple, and slowly moved her head, then winced.
The wine. It must be the bottle of wine she’d drunk all by herself because Chad had left her. Worse. He’d lied
to her, and he was cheating on her.
He used me just like everyone else.
Sherri kept her eyes closed, even squeezing them shut tighter to keep the tears locked up. She should have guzzled the other bottle of wine in the fridge, too, then perhaps she could have stayed asleep longer.
How long had she been asleep? A ribbon of sunlight shone in through the window in the room, the brightness of the light adding to her headache. Sherri held her breath to listen, then inhaled deeply. The smell in the air was rather odd. Nothing she could describe, but unlike anything she’d ever smelled before. An earthen, refreshing smell, a little like her father’s hunting cabin, yet more . . . primitive.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and moved her head again. Her hand slid along the unfamiliar feeling of a satiny couch cushion. She definitely wasn’t at the hunting cabin, and it definitely wasn’t dark and stormy out anymore. The bright sunshine and absolute quiet was proof of that. The wind must have stopped, too, since there were no more sounds of branches scraping along the outside wall. Clearly, she’d passed out and slept through the night.
Scrunching her forehead, she strained her mind to remember the night before. What had happened? After calling Lori, who’d accidentally let it slip that Chad definitely hadn’t been called to work, but instead was at a party, Sherri had finished off the last of the wine. The electricity had gone out at the cabin, presumably due to the storm, and she’d called her father. It hadn’t been much of a surprise that he hadn’t offered to come and pick her up, but had sent one of his employees to get her.
The driver had offered her some water before taking her back to town. The last images were of her making a mad dash to the car and getting drenched. After that, nothing. She must have passed out in the backseat the minute the driver had put the car in motion.
Rustlers and Ribbons Page 15
