High Lonesome

by Coverstone, Stacey

  “I see them, too, honey.” Angela absentmindedly wiped the counter with a rag as she glanced at the clock. Why wasn’t Jack up yet? It was six forty-five and he hadn’t come down for coffee. Her stomach reeled with anxiety, made worse by the fact that Heather woke earlier than usual and couldn’t get back to sleep.

  Why hasn’t he come downstairs? Angela glanced at the arch leading to the hallway and praying he’d walk through it any moment. The thought occurred to her he might not be “going to work.” What if he’d decided to stay home and try to make peace? Worse yet, what if he’d caught on to her?

  Angela’s heart sank. She feared her plan was about to unravel like a sweater with a loose thread. Wringing her hands, she told Heather, “I’m going to go check on Daddy. Stay here and finish your cereal.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” The little girl was in her pajamas, and her dark hair stuck up on end with static electricity. She giggled as she watched the jeweled colors made by sunbeams flit across the window.

  Angela walked down the hallway and stood at the bottom of the stairs. She heard no movements upstairs. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took one anxious step at a time, climbing the stairs until she reached the top. The master bedroom door was closed. Gathering her courage, she pushed open the door and peered in. The bed was made up, as if he hadn’t slept in it.

  “Jack?” Entering the room, she rapped on the bathroom door. “Jack? Are you in there?” There was no answer. Glancing around the room, she noticed her vanity drawer was open and some of her belongings were scattered on the floor. He’d been looking for something. She slid the drawer shut. Where was he?

  Her throat tightened. Was this a ploy? What if this was a distraction, so he could grab their daughter and run? There was no telling what a drug-addicted man was capable of. Heather! Angela sprinted out of the bedroom shouting out his name. “Jack! Jack!” They nearly collided in the hall as he materialized before her like a phantom. Her hand clutched at her chest as she gasped, “You scared me!”

  “I’m sorry.” His demeanor was cool.

  She tried to catch her breath. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you. Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

  He glared. His eyes were bloodshot and the pupils wide open. She remembered seeing that look before—all the times he was high on cocaine, which she remembered now, clearly. She ran her gaze up and down his body, relieved to see he was dressed in business attire, wearing slacks and a dress shirt and tie. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m feeling all right,” he barked. “Never better.” Peering around her into the bedroom, suspicion covered his face like a blanket. “Why were you in my room?”

  Thinking fast, she stammered, “I…I came up to look for you. I got worried when you didn’t answer me when I called. I thought you were sick.”

  His face relaxed, slightly. “Oh. Well, as you can see, there’s no need to worry. I’m just running a little late. What are you and Heather planning to do today?” His veined, bloodshot gaze continued to bore into her.

  “It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day. We’ll probably go to the park. We got so busy we didn’t make it yesterday.” Her heart thumped as his eyes narrowed into slits.

  “I guess you had more important things to do yesterday.” Switching from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, he fired her a disgusted look before stomping down the stairs.

  His despicable behavior irked her, scared her, and confirmed that she’d made the right decision when she divorced him. She followed him down the stairs and watched him stagger through the front door. Sighing heavily, she rushed into the kitchen and watched the BMW back out of the driveway and careen down the street. She picked up the phone and dialed Faith.

  When Faith answered, Angela filled her in. “I found the life insurance policy and the divorce documents yesterday, but I didn’t have an opportunity until now to call you. Jack was acting very strange last night and this morning. I’m afraid.”

  “What are you going to do? You need to get out of that house before he returns.”

  “I’m going to the police. I’ve called the man I stayed with in Ghost Rock for help. He’s going to be here at eight-thirty.”

  “The rancher?”

  “Yes. His name’s Scott Landry. He wants Heather and me to return to the High Lonesome with him.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m thrilled for you,” Faith said. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve love and happiness.”

  Angela didn’t have time to explain to Faith the complicated relationship she shared with Scott. “He’s willing to help us out,” was all she said. “I don’t have much time. Jack’s gone, but Heather’s already up. Could you keep her at your house for about an hour while I pack? She won’t understand what’s happening.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right over to get her.”

  Heather had switched on the portable TV and was laughing at cartoons. When Faith entered through the back door, Angela picked up Heather and gave her a kiss. “Mommy has something important to do right now, so Faith is going to take you over to her house for a little while. Okay? I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” She smiled at Faith, and Faith scooped her into her arms.

  “Is that SpongeBob SquarePants on TV?”

  “Yes.” Heather giggled. “He’s funny.”

  “He’s on my TV, too. We can watch him together. Then we can work on some puzzles. Would you like that?”

  Heather nodded.

  “You two have fun,” Angela said. “I’ll come get you in a little bit, honey.” To Faith, she said, “Thank you for your help.”

  “I just want you and Heather to be safe and happy. This rancher must be someone special if he dropped everything and is coming to your rescue.”

  “He is. Scott’s a good man.”

  Faith smiled. “As your friend, I just want the best for you, but I’m sure going to miss you and this little kid so much if you leave.” She nuzzled Heather’s static-cling hair with her nose.

  “We’ll see each other again,” Angela promised. “I don’t even know how long we’ll be staying at the ranch. It’s all up in the air until a few things get sorted out.” She squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Faith, I want you to know that all of my memories have returned, and I remember the bond we share. You are a dear friend.”

  “So are you. Now hurry and get your bags packed. Your cowboy will be here soon to carry you off into the sunset.”

  After Faith had scurried across the lawn with Heather, Angela descended the basement steps and retrieved a couple of suitcases. She hauled them upstairs and started packing in Heather’s room. She pulled her clothes out of dresser drawers and off hangers, grabbed all of Heather’s favorite toys and games and tossed them into one suitcase, closed and zipped it, and then ran into the master bedroom with the other case.

  She didn’t care if she ever returned to this house. All she could think about was leaving with Scott and starting new. She didn’t even want to think about Joanna. She’d take it one day at a time.

  Before filling her suitcase, Angela ran down the stairs to the den and removed the oil painting from the wall. As she worked the combination lock, she prayed Jack had not opened the safe and removed the strongbox. Reaching in, she pulled out the metal strongbox and noted the new bicycle lock had not been tampered with. Thank God. Closing the wall safe, she relocked it and returned the painting to the wall and made sure to straighten it so it appeared untouched.

  Returning to the bedroom, she unzipped the suitcase and tossed in some clothes, her makeup, toiletries, and the important personal papers from the cardboard box she’d found in the closet. Satisfied she had all she needed, she set the strongbox on the floor next to her as she knelt and zipped up the suitcase.

  “Leaving again so soon?”

  She froze. A scream caught silently in her throat. She hadn’t heard the car pull up nor had she heard his feet on the stairs.

  “I asked you a question,” Jack
said. His voice sounded like gravel. “At least have the courtesy to look at me when I speak to you.”

  Realizing he could see the strongbox on the floor beside her, she scooped it into her arms and stood up clutching it against her chest. “Jack.”

  His scowl could have cut through glass. “Are you going somewhere, Angie? Back to that cowboy?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Do you take me for an idiot?” he continued. “Do you think I didn’t see the way the two of you looked at each other in that hick sheriff’s office? I’m not stupid.”

  “We’re just friends,” she mumbled.

  “Of course you are. Too bad you’ll never get to see him again.” He stretched out his arm. “I’ll take that box. I can’t collect on your death policy without it.”

  Her eyes grew large as he stepped forward.

  “Stay right where you are, Jack. I know everything. I remember what happened, and you’re not going to get away with it.”

  “I figured that out already, Angie. You never were a good liar.”

  “No, but you were, and still are. We’re not even married anymore. This document is no good. You forged my signature. Any handwriting expert will be able to see that.”

  “You’re wrong. It’s a perfect match. I practiced for weeks. The insurance agent couldn’t tell.”

  “What are you going to do? Try to murder me again? You’ll never get away with it a second time.”

  “If you remember everything, then you know I have to pay back the bank or go to prison. I no longer have a job, which, I assume, you’ve figured out already. You got the house and the car in the divorce. I have no other options. I have no money and no way to live. You’ve taken everything from me. Don’t you see? I have to collect on that policy. I’ve been forced into a terrible situation here.”

  He took another step closer.

  She clenched her teeth. “I’m warning you, Jack. Don’t come any closer.” Reading the danger and desperation in his wild eyes, she held the strongbox tight to her chest.

  “Give me that box!” he yelled.

  When he lunged, she swung the box and hit him on the side of the face. He screeched. She bolted for the door, but he whirled and blocked her with his body. In a déjà vu moment, he grabbed her arm and twisted. The box fell from her hands.

  “Let go!” she screamed, while pummeling him with her other fist. Just like before, he shoved her hard, slamming her petite body against the wall. Her head hit the wall, and she slid to the floor and willed herself not to pass out.

  As he reached for the box on the floor, she ignored the pain she felt in her back and head and stumbled to her feet. Glancing around, she saw he’d backed her into the corner. Trapped between the bed and the bathroom, she looked around, wondering how she was going to escape.

  Knowing she was no match for his brute strength, she opted for reverse psychology. By trying to appease him, she could use the moment she needed to come up with an escape plan. “Jack, we can work this out,” she rasped. Her eyesight was blurry. She steadied herself against the wall to keep from falling down. “The judge wasn’t fair when he gave everything to me in the divorce. I realize that now. You can have the car and the house.”

  His two wild eyes burned into her. “What about Heather?”

  “Heather loves you. Once you get the help you need—go to rehab and get clean,” she said tentatively, “then you can spend more time with her. I’ll go back to court and have new documents drawn up. I promise.”

  He considered that a moment before shaking his head. “No. It’s too late.” He lumbered forward like a bear. Angela crossed her hands to protect her face from the blow that was sure to come.

  “It’s never too late!” she cried.

  He stopped mid-stride.

  “You don’t want to hurt me, Jack. Please think about Heather. She needs me. I’m her mother. Remember how you felt when your mother died? You were twelve and you felt lost. You told me your world was never the same after that. Heather’s only four. You don’t want her to go through that same kind of pain, do you?”

  “Heather will be just fine,” he grumbled. “She can do without you as a mother. I’m all she needs. I’ll take care of her.”

  Angela’s mouth felt so dry. “I know you love her, Jack, but you can’t take care of her until you take care of yourself. You have to get help for your addiction.”

  “Shut up!” he yelled. “I’m sick of your nagging. Why didn’t you die out in the desert where I dumped you? How did you live?”

  A trickle of blood dripped from his nostril. Angela wasn’t sure if it was from where she smacked him with the strongbox or if it was from the cocaine he’d obviously taken. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Angie, but there’s no other way. I did love you.” He tossed the strongbox on the floor. Springing forward with the speed of a panther, he raised his hands in a chokehold position.

  “Jack! Don’t!”

  His big hands wrapped around her neck. With a burst of adrenaline, Angela’s hand shot out. She yanked the lamp off the bedside table next to her and smashed it into his head.

  With a low moan, he crumpled to the floor and fell unconscious. A gash on his scalp seeped blood the color of dark berries. Angela dropped to her knees and felt a weak pulse in his neck. She wheezed out a breath and stumbled for the phone. After dialing 911, she leaned over his body and said, “I’m sorry, too, Jack.”

  ****

  Scott pulled up to a scene straight out of the movies. He parked along the curb because an ambulance was coming out of the driveway. Two police cars were parked in front and onlookers were both gathered on the street and congregated on the lawn, gawking. He jumped out of his pickup and jogged to the front door, banging on it with his fist. Realizing it was ajar, he stepped inside. A slender woman with short dark hair appeared from around the corner.

  “Where’s Angela?” he asked, forgetting his manners.

  “You must be Mr. Landry. I’m her friend, Faith. Come in.”

  “Where is she? What happened here? Is she all right?”

  “Shhh. Come with me.” Faith linked her arm through his and led him into the kitchen via the back hallway. “Angie’s fine. It’s Jack who’s been carted off to the hospital. She had to defend herself against him, but she wasn’t hurt. All she has is a sore back. She’ll explain everything to you when she finishes up with the police.”

  Scott glanced around, noting the high-end interior surroundings. “She wanted me with her when she spoke to the police. We planned to go to them with the insurance policy. Does she have it?”

  “Yes. She wanted me to ask you to wait here in the kitchen. I think the interview with the police is going well. Please sit down.” She motioned toward the dining table. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No. I’m good.” His heart pounded with an insane rhythm. Caffeine would probably kick off a full-blown attack. He removed his Stetson and laid it in the chair next to him. “You’re sure she’s okay? That bastard didn’t hurt her?”

  “No, but he meant to kill her. She walloped him with a metal box and cold cocked him with a lamp. She’s a courageous woman, our Angie.”

  Scott shook his head, unbelieving such an itty-bitty woman had the strength to take down a man the size of her ex. He drummed his fingers upon the table.

  Angela stepped into the room a half hour later. When her gaze locked with Scott’s, there was no hesitation. She walked straight into his arms and rested her head on his chest. He held her never wanting to let go again. They didn’t speak for several moments—just clung together— holding each other in a lover’s embrace.

  Faith cleared her throat and excused herself. “I’ll go check on Heather while you two get reacquainted.”

  They sat at the table, and he placed his hand over hers. He said nothing as she told him what it’d been like since returning to Tucson with Jack. How she remembered everything that had happened, and how she’d narrowly escaped
Jack’s murderous hands for the second time.

  “I’m not a lawyer,” she said at the end, “but I’m pretty sure Jack’s going to be incarcerated for a long time. He’s got some serious charges facing him. I just hope he’ll be able to receive the help he needs to kick the drugs.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Scott said. “You didn’t need me at all.”

  She begged to differ. “Yes, I did.” She gazed deep into his eyes. “You were the first person I thought to call. You were the only one. I know I shouldn’t have contacted you, but you told me you’d always be there for me.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “I meant it.”

  Angela closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she told Scott she had to speak her heart. “I was heartbroken when I realized our afternoon at the lake was nothing more than physical attraction.”

  “You’re wrong about that, Angela. The passion I felt when we kissed, it was real and my words were true. What you saw Jo and I share that evening before you left was a farewell kiss between old friends.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After I washed up, I saw her sitting in her car in the driveway. I couldn’t believe it. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I went out to tell her it was over between us, but you’ll never guess what happened.”

  “What?”

  “She beat me to the punch.” Scott chuckled.

  “I don’t understand.” Angela’s head angled.

  “She broke up with me before I got the chance. She said she realized it hadn’t been working for some time, and she thought it would be better if we dated other people.”

  A grin broke through her heartbreak. “So, are you telling me it’s over between you two?”

  “Absolutely. One hundred percent. Angela, I wanted to tell you something before you left the ranch, but I didn’t get the chance.” He leaned forward and sifted his fingers through her silky hair.

  “Tell me now,” she whispered.

  He stroked her cheek. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were meant for me. I felt like I’d known you all my life, but I was afraid to get close to you, for the obvious reasons. I didn’t want either of us to get hurt. But the more I got to know you and the more time we spent together, I knew I could never say goodbye. When we kissed at the lake, my whole world turned upside down. I’ve thought about you twenty-four seven. Since you left the High Lonesome, I haven’t slept, I can’t eat, and I can’t keep my mind on business. I’m like a lovesick teenager.”