Summer closed her eyes against another onslaught of doubts, second thoughts, and worries.
That giving up this baby would not erase what Dustin had done to her. That the pain would be a part of her a long time after this child left her life.
“I just know that I thought I was doing the best thing for Lucas when I left him with Zach and Grace,” Glenda said. “And looking back, I most certainly did. But at the time, though I did it to protect myself, that didn’t work. I spent months, years, second-guessing, feeling I had made a mistake, trying to justify my reasons. It never went away. I’m so thankful now that Lucas and I have started on a pathway to reconciliation.”
“But it was a good thing you sent him there, wasn’t it?” Summer asked, needing to hear some positives. Some reassurances. “You said that just a few moments ago.”
“I did, and for the most part, I still feel that way, but I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t have tried to take care of him. After all, I’m his grandmother, and it took him a while to let go of his feelings of rejection I caused because I was trying to protect myself.”
The truth of each word Glenda uttered was like a gentle blow, creating a dull pain.
“I have to do this,” Summer said, using the same words she had tossed at Lucas repeatedly, digging down to her default response. One that didn’t require thought or delving into the why.
Because looking too deeply at that would be to acknowledge a darkness inside herself she couldn’t face. She wasn’t that person.
She wasn’t.
“Do you think you can’t be a good mother?” Glenda asked, her tone gentle. “Because I sense Lucas would support and help you.”
Her words were like a teasing glimpse of possibilities of a relationship between her and Lucas. The same ones she had entertained, the same ones that had danced through her mind.
But she couldn’t stop the harsh reality of her life from crashing in. A reality that would change everything.
“I should get some candles before it gets too dark to find them.” She stood abruptly, needing to change the course of this conversation.
“I think I saw some on a lower shelf in the pantry,” Glenda said, going along with her for now.
Summer walked to the floor-to-ceiling cupboard tucked in one corner of the kitchen. She had to get down on her knees to look, but she found an entire box of red candles, some matches, and a set of flashlights. They still worked.
She set everything on the counter and rummaged around the cupboard looking for something to put the candles in. “I’ll have to make do with these,” she said, bringing a couple of small glasses to the table.
She took one and pulled a candle out of the box, struck a match, and lit the candle. Glenda did the same. As she let the wax drip into the cup, Summer felt Glenda watching her. Could feel the unspoken questions pushing at her. Setting the candle in the still warm wax, she lit it again, her eyes on the flickering light. For a moment she sat, watching their candles burning, her thoughts as wavery as the candle’s flame.
“I was raped.” The words burst out of her before she could stop them. “That’s how I got pregnant.”
She stared ahead, unable to catch Glenda’s reaction, her hands clenched into fists so tight her fingernails dug painfully in her palms.
However, she heard Glenda’s swift intake of breath.
The silence that fell between them was heavy with the implications of her words and of the situation.
“Oh, sweetheart,” was Glenda’s gentle response as her hand covered Summers, now resting on the table, her fingers clenched in self-defense.
More silence, and then Misty jumped to her feet, barking, running to the door.
Lucas was back.
Relief flowed through Summer. He was okay.
“Does Lucas know?” Glenda asked.
Summer gave a decisive shake of her head. “I can’t tell him. I don’t know what he would think of me. I can’t watch his reaction.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I think he would understand.”
“It’s not that simple.” Summer paused, struggling to find the right way to explain, to put words to the dark thoughts that had twisted through her soul. That there was more to the situation than the rape.
Just as she was about to speak, the door opened and Lucas came inside, bringing cold and snow and an end to the conversation. The candles flickered in the breeze and almost went out but as the door closed, they burned brightly again.
Glenda leaned close to Summer, whispering in her ear. “I think you need to tell him. I really do. He’s a good man.”
Summer understood what she was telling her, and she wanted to cling to the idea that telling Lucas about Dustin would change everything.
She wished it would be that easy.
“I think that should hold us for a while,” Lucas said as he set an armful of wood by the fireplace.
Glenda turned her attention away from Summer. “Do you think so? That doesn’t seem like much.”
“There’s three whole sledfuls outside,” Lucas said. “You two must have been pretty deep in conversation to not have heard me working out there.”
“We discussed a few things,” Glenda said. She glanced back at Summer, leveling her a serious look as if underlining her words.
“Good idea to light the candles. It’s really nasty out there, and it won’t be light for long,” Lucas said. “No one will be going anywhere for a while.”
“Does your phone work yet?” Summer asked, glancing once again at her phone’s lack of bars.
Lucas put a few more logs on the fire then pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking it. “Nope. Nothing. Thank goodness we still have a landline though.”
“No, we don’t,” Glenda said. “The renters who moved into the house after I left canceled it. They had cell phones and said they didn’t need a landline. I don’t think it’s been reconnected.”
“So much for that,” Lucas said with a frown.
Summer tried to still the panic spiraling through her at the thought that they were cut off without any communication.
The doctor said the baby would be late, she assured herself. You’re fine.
But despite that, she felt far too vulnerable.
* * *
Lucas stoked up the fire then pushed himself to his feet, glancing from Glenda to Summer.
As soon as he’d stepped inside, he got a sense that the atmosphere had shifted.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Considering there’s a storm howling out our door and the power is out and we don’t have phone service… I’m not sure what else to tell you.” Glenda gave him an enigmatic look that only increased his curiosity.
“That’s obvious, but I feel like there’s something you two aren’t saying.”
At that Glenda glanced at Summer as if expecting her to add something to the conversation, but she wasn’t looking at either of them.
Typical, thought Lucas.
But then she finally did look over at him, and the look of bleak despair in her eyes dove into his soul. So many questions, so much unsaid hanging over them like a cloud.
Part of him wished he could walk away. It seemed like the easiest choice. However, he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe he and Summer had a real opportunity at a second chance. He couldn’t deny how he felt about her, and he sensed she felt the same despite the emotions they had dealt with the past few days.
Walking away would solve nothing. And, as he told her, he would be willing to raise this child, Summer’s baby.
But her sudden glance away stoked his doubts and created the same uncertainty he struggled with after she broke up with him.
“I'll light a fire in the suite,” he said, needing to keep busy and occupied.
“Summer, why don’t you go along with him?” Glenda suggested. “Take the candles and some matches.”
“I don’t need her help.” Lucas was frustrated at Glenda’s recommendation. “And I think I know how to
light candles.”
“I’m sure you do, but I want to read in my room until suppertime. I’m tired, and I’d like Summer to check the suite and make sure everything is okay.”
Lucas was sure Summer would protest, but to his surprise, she slowly got to her feet but still kept her gaze averted.
“Take your time,” Glenda said, shooting Summer a puzzling look.
Something was happening, and while Lucas would have liked to know what, he also knew the value of waiting and observing.
“Is the connecting door open on your side?” Summer asked.
“I just unlocked it. I’ll bring more wood in.” He put another log on the fire, buttoned up his coat again, pulled his hat low, and stepped outside into the howling cold.
He gathered up as many logs as he could carry then struggled to open the door of the suite one-handed. But Summer was there, waiting, because the door swung open for him. A couple of candles were already lit, sitting on the table.
The suite was already cooling down, so he was glad he’d thought to build a fire in here as well.
“You don’t need to help,” Lucas said as he laid the wood in the cradle by the small wood stove. When his parents moved here, his mother had talked about removing the stove to make more room in the suite, but when Glenda moved in she had protested, saying it might come in handy.
Prophetic words.
“I know you don’t need my help, but I need to…need to say…” Summer hesitated, standing by the door between the suites. When Lucas glanced up at her, he felt a chill slither down his spine at the sight of her solemn expression.
“Anything you want to tell me?” he asked. “I feel like there’s a screaming subtext to this conversation.”
Summer just handed him some newspaper. “Thought you might need this for the fire,” was all she said. “I’ll make some tea and be right back.”
That sounded like something significant was coming down. Lucas shook off his apprehension.
Just wait, he told himself. Don’t borrow trouble.
A few moments later the fire was crackling in the stove, and just as he closed the metal door, Summer came inside, Misty trotting along behind her. She set a tray holding two mugs and a teapot on the coffee table in front of his couch. Then she closed the connecting door. The click echoed through the house with a sense of finality. For a moment she stayed in place, rigid, facing the door, as if gathering strength for what he guessed was coming next.
Misty curled up on the rug by the coffee table, but her head was up, ears perked, attentive as if she too knew something was happening.
“Let’s sit down.” Lucas needed to take charge and get whatever was hovering between them out in the open.
Summer walked over to the couch and sat, perched on the edge.
Lucas could have taken the chair opposite, but he chose to sit right beside her. It was an intimidating move, but if it triggered a response, pried loose whatever it was Summer was holding back, it was worth it.
“So, what do you need to tell me?” He kept his voice quiet, unthreatening, but hoped he let her know that he wouldn't be shunted off again.
She kept her attention fixed on the teapot, steam curling from its spout, her fingers twisting around each other in an agitated gesture.
“I’m making a wild guess and suggesting it’s about your baby?” he continued, pressing his small advantage.
Outside the storm battered and beat at the walls of the house, as if echoing the emotions swirling around inside.
But he waited, stifling his impatience and his fear.
Then he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, and he was undone. He moved closer, resting his hand on her shoulder. When she bent her head, touching her cheek to his hand, he slipped his hand upward, running his fingers through her hair to cradle her head.
“You can’t go anywhere, and neither can I,” he said, gently. Softly. “You may as well tell me.”
Summer closed her eyes, tears seeping out of her eyelids, drifting down her cheeks. He saw her swallow again, and his heart broke at the grief she fought.
“Please tell me,” he whispered, moving closer and slipping his arms around her.
To his surprise, she fell against him and wrapped her arms around him. She sucked in a quick breath, then another, tears flowing down her cheeks, sobs now wracking her body.
She clung to him, a storm of sorrow washing over her.
Heart breaking at her anguish, he held her close, stroking her head, whispering meaningless endearments. It shattered him to see her so broken. But still, he waited, giving her what comfort he could against a grief he couldn’t comprehend.
Slowly her sobs eased, and after pulling in a shuddering breath, she finally lay silent in his arms. He laid his cheek on her head, still holding her close, still waiting.
“I’m sorry I did that,” she said.
“I’m not.”
He could feel her smile, but she didn’t move away.
“Glenda told me I needed to talk to you, and she’s right.” She spoke so quietly he almost missed what she said, but again, he kept silent. Still. Waiting.
“You need to know that I missed you so much after I split up with you,” Summer said. “I was dealing with so much grief. After I lost my brother…I felt like I had lost half of me. I felt like I had lost part of my soul. It was a horrible time. And I couldn’t face losing you as well. Like I told you, that’s why I broke up with you. But it made nothing better. In fact, it made everything worse.” She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath. She looked away from him as if unable to look him in the eye while she spoke. “After we broke up, I was just wandering around, numb and in a haze.” She continued, her voice wavering with emotion, “I kept up my grades in school, which was a surprise, but I lost part of my scholarship. I needed to keep going to school, so I got a job working in a bar. And that’s where I met…this guy.” She released a harsh laugh. “Classic beginning to a story that doesn’t end well.”
Lucas shifted, leaning back against the couch, moving so they curled together, the baby she carried resting between them.
She was silent a moment, and he guessed where this was going but knew she needed to keep talking.
“So tell me the rest of the story,” he whispered, as if saying the words too loud would frighten her off.
“He was a decent enough guy at first,” Summer said. “We dated for a year. I had begun working, and he was starting his own mechanic shop. We had fun together, but we never really meshed. Trouble was, I knew what I was looking for, because I’d had it before.” She stopped a moment, another sob quivering in her throat. “I finally told him it wouldn't work, and I broke up with him for good. At first he cried, pleaded with me. When I refused him, things escalated. We fought. He was drunk, and unreasonable, so I left.” She stopped talking and clutched his shirt, her knuckles white with tension.
Lucas felt as if he were on the edge of a steep cliff, looking down, knowing he had to take the plunge but wondering what it would feel like when he hit bottom.
Another breath, then, “He followed me back to my apartment and forced his way in. Then he forced…forced himself…”
Icy anger swept through Lucas as he guessed what followed.
“You don’t have to say anything more,” he said, touching her lips, wanting to spare her that humiliation. “I think I know what happened.”
He kissed the top of her head, stroked her back, trying to find any way to give her some kind of consolation. She had gone through so much all by herself.
“I was so ashamed, so humiliated afterward, and in so much pain,” Summer whispered, curling against him. “I know I should’ve gone to the police, to the hospital, but one of my friends was working at the hospital that night. I knew what would happen, because I’ve done rape kits before. And afterward, I saw Dustin hanging around outside my apartment. When he left he told me he would be watching me, and he was. He said if I went to the police, he would
kill me. I was terrified, sick at heart so I called in sick and stayed home.”
She paused, pulling in another breath.
“He stayed in front of my house for two days. Every time he would leave and I thought I could go, he would come back. I finally got tired of the hold he had over me and went out to my car. He met me, full of remorse and regret. He told me he was sorry. He had bought me a bouquet. I threw the flowers away and told him to leave. He kept saying he was sorry, that he would never do anything to hurt me, which was ironic considering he had done already the worst possible thing, made the worst kind of threats, terrified me by parking outside my apartment all that time.”
Lucas couldn’t hold her tight enough, couldn’t console her enough. At the same time he could barely control the cold fury that swept through him.
“I am so, so sorry you had to deal with this,” he said, forcing himself to speak quietly, tenderly. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Tense silence followed, the wind blowing, still howling. He wanted to pull her as close as he could, wanted to wash away all the humiliation and pain she had experienced.
“When I found out I was pregnant I didn’t know what to do,” Summer continued. “I told my friend. But she told her boyfriend, and somehow it got back to Dustin. He immediately sent me a cheque. Told me he wanted to take care of his responsibilities, and said that he knew of an abortion clinic that would take care of me.”
Lucas laid his hand on Summer’s stomach, on the baby that lay there, three weeks away from being born who, at one time, was considered disposable.
“Oh Summer, what a thing to have to deal with. I wish I could’ve been there for you. I wish I could’ve taken this all away.”
“You were literally fighting your own battles,” Summer said. “But I did think of you. I wanted to call you, but I knew I lost that right when I broke up with you. Besides, I didn’t want you, of all people, to know how far I’d fallen.”
“From what?”
She shook her head, releasing a harsh laugh. “From the girl I was. The girl who always went to church. Who always did the right thing. Who always behaved. Who everyone said was kind, caring, and considerate. What a joke.”
The Cowboy’s Return Page 16
