Unable to give him much of an answer, she exhaled deeply. “I don’t know,” she answered distractedly.
“I really don’t know why the letters started coming after you left. I’ve often wondered that myself. I’m very sorry, Carolina,” Mrs. Dugan said with a solicitous pat to Carolina’s hand. “I didn’t know your whereabouts and couldn’t forward them to you. Let’s hurry back to my place and I’ll have Stede get the box down out of my closet and you can go back to his place and read your letters. They’ll probably contain all the answers you’ve been seeking.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dugan. Thank you for holding onto them. I couldn’t believe that my mother and Lizzie never once wrote to me. I always wondered why my mother never sent for me like she did Lizzie.
“I remember saving all my waitressing tips in that box to buy my ticket to Texas when they sent for me; and money beyond in order not to be a burden when I got there, until I found a job. Whatever their circumstances were, living with them would’ve been better than being left with Carl. They had to know that,” she added, shaking her head in disbelief.
“And now to hear that they had written after I had run away. I couldn’t wait any longer at the time. I was afraid Carl would either kill me one night or end up selling my body to one of his drunken cronies. He threatened to do that once too often.”
Stede slammed on the brakes, causing a pickup to swerve and whiz by, tooting the horn. “Are you serious, Carolina? Why didn’t you tell my grandmother how desperate your life had become?”
Stede looked stunned and his eyes were dark and angry, when she looked at him in the mirror. “Because I couldn’t get her involved. I didn’t trust what he might do to either one of us. I had no other choice but to leave.” A rush of relief washed over her to have verbally admitted the horror she had kept to herself all these years.
****
Long after they had left Mrs. Dugan back at the nursing home, Carolina sat huddled on the steps of Stede’s porch and clutched the still unopened treasure box close to her chest, curious to know what the letters said, yet afraid of the news they carried and angry beyond belief that they came too late and seemed too few as she shook the box.
Stede came outside to join her. “I’m making us some of my famous cowboy chili for dinner. Hungry?”
Carolina shrugged.
Stede eased down beside her, put his hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her to him. “What are you thinking?”
She made a slight moan. “When I was a child I told everybody I was born on the highway, and mother always explained that I meant to say the trailer park because where we lived was next to the highway and I was born in that trailer.”
“That’s not bad,” he said, trying to comfort her, “being born at home.”
“When I was born, a midwife and Carl assisted with my birth. My mother said Lizzie, who was two at the time, hovered around her because she was scared. Carl always accused me of acting too good for my beginnings and I never understood why he characterized me as a snob after such a primitive birth.”
“Trust me, Carolina, you are not a snob.” He gave her his hand and when she stood, he turned her around to face him and said, “Kiss me.”
She knew deep down that he wouldn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t ask her, he gave a command. When she didn’t respond, he captured her green eyes with his and kissed her instead, easing the pain she suffered. Carolina let out a whimper and he deepened the kiss until she ceased resisting and she felt herself surrender and melt in his arms.
When he loosened his embrace, he whispered, “I want you to let me love you. I want to teach you how to love because I think I’ve fallen in love with you Mary Carolina Fox Palmer…”
****
Carolina ran her fingers across her lips—lips that had truly been kissed. She had a difficult time accepting the reality that Stede told her he loved her. She had only vague recollections of her mother uttering those words to her when she was very young, but not ever in front of Carl, she remembered.
This was the first time someone had ever told her that they loved her in that way. She already felt quite aware of her feelings toward him, but she was apprehensive about vocally declaring her affections.
Yet her feelings for him deepened when he didn’t pursue an answer from her or demand more than she was ready to give. He had plenty of opportunity to take advantage of her vulnerability, but didn’t. She had been nothing but a basket case since she arrived. Her growing feelings toward him were full of gratitude, but short on trust, leaving her fearful about vocally declaring her affections.
They had supper together and afterwards, he kissed her goodnight and said, “Tomorrow, I plan to go with you to the nursing home to see Carl.” Then he went upstairs, leaving her with her box of letters. “Call me if you need me,” he said over the railing.
She ran her hand over the old wooden box and touched the picture of the landscape that had been inlaid in the center of the lid. She unlocked the box and lifted the top.
Gathering the letters in her hands, she held them to her nose, hoping a familiar scent might stir her memory. But she smiled because they only smelled of musty wood.
At first she was tempted to start from the oldest letter to the last one Mrs. Dugan received, but was worried that the last letter from Lizzie might disclose news that their mother had passed away.
The most recent letter from Lizzie was postmarked from Dallas and dated seven years ago. She couldn’t believe her eyes. How foolish she had been to believe these letters might help her deal with the severe issues of abandonment she lived with over the years.
Now she knew they hadn’t tried to reach her for the first few years after Lizzie left. And eventually they gave up trying to reach her. All in all, they wrote a few letters for each of the three years out of twelve that she had been gone. She wondered if it even occurred to them that she might have died under Carl’s abuse. Did they even care?
She opened the last letter and a photo of Lizzie with two young children, a boy and a girl, fell out of the envelope. She turned the photo over that read Rusty 5 and Mary 3. Had Lizzie named her daughter after her? Her letter explained that they had moved to a small town outside of Dallas. She said that this was the last letter she would send, unless there was another change in their address, in case she showed up back in Arizona and looked for them.
Lizzie had been married for a long time to the same man. He was a firefighter and they moved to a bigger home because mother would live with them to help take care of the children while Lizzie worked.
She wrote, “We miss you and pray for you every day. Mother and I are very sorry we didn’t get to send for you before you ran off. Maybe some day we will have a chance to explain what happened to us, but we were homeless and living in shelters for quite a while. Hope you are well. Love always, Lizzie Carpenter.”
There was an address, but no phone number. Carolina crunched the letter into a ball. Anger rose and her breath quickened. The letter was all about them. They were fine and they hoped she was fine. Fine and alone…
Carolina read all the letters down to the very first one they had sent in care of Mrs. Dugan. Inside was a check written out to Mary Fox, to buy a bus ticket to Dallas—a year too late.
When she put the letters back, she closed the lid and placed the box on the floor. Their lack of remorse confused her, not one note about how worried they were and how much they missed her. The messages left her drained and emotionally impassive. Most of them told her about them, where they worked and lived, and at the end they’d write that they hoped she was fine.
Fine? They left her with a loathsome person. She didn’t care whether or not her mother and sister were homeless and poor. They were free from violent harm. Did they think because she had the trailer to live in that that was an alternative? Better than being homeless?
Irate and heartbroken, she climbed under the covers, hugged Stede’s pillow and sighed, while tears silently spilled down her cheeks. Then she climbe
d out of bed and went upstairs to the loft and stood by the bed where Stede slept.
“Stede,” she whispered.
He gave a hum, opened his eyes and smiled, pulled down the covers and patted the mattress. He turned on his side toward her, stretched out his arm, and she crawled in next to him.
“Spooning,” he whispered, moved her hair off her neck and kissed her. “Try to get some sleep, we have a lot to discuss in the morning.”
Her body began to relax as soon as the goosies ran through her body, and she fell asleep with thoughts of Stede on her mind and wondered about her future.
Chapter Eight
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Stede said, sitting across from Carolina while they ate breakfast. “Did you sleep well?”
She smiled and nodded, “After I relaxed in your arms.”
“Do you think you’re getting in a habit sleeping with me?”
She blushed and smiled.
“Worried about seeing Carl?”
She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “I suppose.”
Stede reached over and took her hand in his. “You know you don’t have to do this. Not today, not now, not ever.”
“That’s the easy way out, but if you go with me I think I will feel better about facing him.”
She received one of his warm smiles and attempted to smile in return, but he apparently noticed the creases in her brow.
“Do you want to talk about what was in the letters? Your eyes are puffy and have dark circles under them, and I know you didn’t sleep well, until you came upstairs.”
Carolina let a quiet chuckle escape. “We’ve known each other for such a short time, yet you know more about me than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“That’s because you’ve begun to trust me, although you haven’t admitted that to yourself—yet. But I’m working on that, too. I promise not to let anything bad happen to you when you’re with me. I want to convince you that my feelings for you are genuine.”
“I believe you and I care about you, also. But right now that’s all I have to offer.”
“I accept that. See, we’re making progress. Now, are you ready to talk about the letters?”
Carolina twisted the napkin in her hands and sat up straighter. She opened her mouth to speak, and then hesitated and finally said, “The letters are not about what they said, but more about what they didn’t say.”
“Such as,” he asked, frowning?
“Every letter ended with the same message, I hope you’re fine or I hope you’re all right. They abandoned me, Stede. That’s the harsh truth. They never once said they were sorry or that they feared for my life. Simply, I hope you’re fine. What the hell was that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sorry, Carolina. I wish I could hold you and clear away all the hurt and pain you have ever suffered, with one kiss. But I know that’s not possible. Perhaps your mother and sister were frightened to think what their leaving you might have caused you to endure. Sometimes what one imagines is worse than reality. I can’t believe they haven’t lived with remorse all this time.”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head, “they didn’t voice any such sentiments.”
“Tell you what I think. If they aren’t guilt-ridden then they aren’t worth your concern, no matter how much anguish that may cause you. But, you’ll never know the whole truth without confronting them either. Manny and Jenny and I will close up the hospital for a month soon. We’re headed to Dallas and going to a rodeo on the way. Why don’t you come with us?”
“To Texas?” The invitation more than surprised her. She expected he’d bail out of her life now that he knew about her past. But her background didn’t seem to faze him. For years she remained aloof and never encouraged any suitors. But, was rodeo life something she’d consider, knowing about the long separations and constant traveling?
“Sure, why not?” He answered with an upbeat voice. “You have your computer and a cell phone. You can work along the way. When we get to Dallas, we’ll stay at the ranch with my family and you and I will go looking for your mother and sister. Is there anyone who can forward your mail out here before we leave? Can’t you arrange for someone in your office to deposit your checks directly to your bank and have your bills paid automatically?”
“That’s already done because I spend a lot of time traveling around the country and in Europe.”
Stede got up and began to clear the table. “There you go; you’re all set. Except for the clothes. You don’t look much like a cowgirl.”
Carolina laughed. “I’ll give your suggestion some thought. Now let me ask you a something.”
“Shoot…”
“Would you go to Europe with me if I had an assignment?”
“Fair question.” He set the dishes down and said, “Guess I’d have to say maybe.”
“Good answer,” she said, laughing.
“Yeah, but I’m still not going to take no from you.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She swallowed the last of her coffee and brought him the cup.
He stopped loading the dishwasher and gave her a wry look. “My turn to ask you a question?”
“Shoot,” she responded in turn.
“With your profession and knowledge of searching for people, didn’t you ever think to search for your family? You knew they were in Texas, didn’t you?”
Carolina nodded. “Yes. I knew that’s where my mother was when she sent for Lizzie. I had no way of knowing that they remained there. And for the first several years living in South Carolina, I rented a room in someone’s house, had a low-paying job that at least helped me earn my way through college. But I didn’t own a computer nor did I have any computer skills and training in research.”
“And later?” he asked.
“I had the same problem they had in finding me. They probably took different names like I did so as not to leave much of a trail for Carl or anyone to follow. I applied for a new Social Security card and assumed they did also. I even tried to use my mother’s maiden name, Thompson. The letters didn’t say what names they used, except that Lizzie is married and her last name is now Carpenter.”
“Great, now all you have to do is Google Lizzie.”
“That’s at least a start, I suppose.”
“I have to go tend to the animals. As soon as I’ve finished, we’ll head out to the nursing home my grandmother told us about and look up Carl Fox. I know you’re going to feel liberated after that’s over and I’ll take you to dinner and dancin’ to celebrate if you feel all right later.”
****
When Carolina climbed in the SUV, her insides were jittery and her heart pumped rapidly at the thought of stirring everything up again by facing Carl, despite the fact that she spent years attempting to peel away the internal layers of physical and mental suffering and learning how to deal with the emotional damage her family caused her.
Even though she remained convinced this was the right thing to do, didn’t mean the task would be easy. The tumultuous ride seemed as unending as the blue sky when they drove to town through the mountains that harbored their own challenges.
“Washington should see this many sunny days,” she commented, attempting to keep her mind off what was ahead. “I’m surprised though that Arizona has as many air quality alerts as there are back east.”
Stede glanced at her, then back at the highway. “Now that you’ve spent time here in Sage Canyon again, and with Carl soon out of the equation, think you’d like to return home permanently?”
“I never considered this state or town my home,” she replied in quiet disgust. “There are people who are poor, but who are happy and love one another. I never had that and there’s no home to come back to, Stede.
“Jenny and Manny now live in the rust bucket and even that’s different since they’ve fixed up the place and filled the rooms with love, and soon they’ll replace the trailer altogether with their log cabin.”
She shook her hea
d and raised her eyebrows. “I never thought that old trailer would outlast your grandmother’s Victorian home. And staying in your home has been like visiting somewhere I’ve never been before, even though I lived on the same property.”
“You see there are ways you can erase the old and make a home wherever you want.”
“Or you can start fresh like I did. I created a new life in a different city with a new job that I enjoy and one that also pays well. My life is good, only simply not complete,” she shrugged. “I want someone to come home to; I want a family. I don’t even have a dog, like King, because I travel—that wouldn’t be fair to the animal. I was quite fortunate to find a family that steered me in the right direction, otherwise I don’t know what might have happened to me.”
“But?”
“But my life has been a lonely one.”
“Haven’t you ever been in love? I find it hard to believe men haven’t wanted to marry you.”
Carolina frowned. “That’s my fault. I’ve remained aloof all my life. I was never sure I’d recognize a good man even if he proposed. My mother sure didn’t know how to choose one. Or maybe she thought she did, but found out too late that she had made a mistake. I don’t want to make the same mistake she did. Until I met you, I froze whenever a man approached me.”
She cleared her throat glad he didn’t know that she was referred to as the Ice Princess around the water cooler. “Until I put the past to rest, I can’t move on, and that’s why I’m here. I don’t want issues with Carl or my mother or Lizzie for that matter, directly or indirectly controlling my life any more.
“I’ve had enough of the bitterness that comes with those issues, eating my bones. Although swallowing my pride enough to forgive them is the hardest thing I’ve ever attempted, I’m doing this in order to release their power over me.”
“You’re a bigger person than I.”
“Why do you say that? What was your family life like?” she asked, turning toward him.
“We had everything, lots of money, a huge home, education, and a very busy social life.”
Proud Mary Page 7
