Each step to the vanity sent waves of pain up her back and through muscles. She finally reached the counter and looked in the mirror, gasping at her reflection. When had she stopped taking care of herself? Caring how she looked? She used to have long, thick hair. She’d loved her hair... but not anymore. She stopped taking care of herself about the same time Shane started telling her how worthless she was. Now her long hair was a big matte of stringy, oily tangles. An ugly bruise had formed on her cheek where Shane had slapped her, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. She covered her cheeks. More ugly purple marred her forearms.
Damn that Shane. In the beginning, they’d been great together. After what she’d learned about her parents, nothing had made sense in her life. Shane had been charming and romantic. He’d told her she was beautiful. He’d been nice to her. They’d dated like a normal couple for a while. When he’d asked her to move in, she hadn’t hesitated. After years of not feeling like she belonged in her own family, she’d finally found that with Shane. Or so she thought.
Then he’d changed. A misunderstanding at his job had gotten him fired. Afterwards, he’d spent a lot of time wallowing in self-pity and drinking all day instead of just at dinner. There had been good days, lots of them, when he’d been clear-eyed. On those days, she’d caught glimpses of the old Shane. Days when he’d found work and came home with a sense of accomplishment. Then he’d stopped looking for work at all, didn’t take care of himself, and turned his anger and frustration on her.
She’d had nobody else. That was why she’d stayed. Even after things had gotten bad. So much had happened since she’d found out the big secret her parents had kept from her. Her ability to trust anyone had been shattered, her goals set aside as she’d drifted aimlessly—until she’d met Shane.
But now she had a second chance and was never going back. Today is the first day of the rest of her life. That was what the saying said, right? Today she would eat a big breakfast someone else had cooked for her, instead of being the cook, waitress, and maid to an ungrateful bastard.
But she couldn’t go downstairs looking like she did, so she eased into the shower. The water rolled down her skin. She soaped her hands, and the lavender-scented bubbles grew to a thick lather. She scrubbed hard, washing away all traces of Shane. Each scrub, each stroke, was another step in her quest for freedom.
Why had she let herself go? She couldn’t pinpoint a single moment or when her own happiness had been supplanted by Shane’s. She’d tried to become unattractive, invisible to him. She’d stopped caring about herself when he’d started caring only about himself.
Not anymore. She washed her hair until the strands squeaked when she pulled her fingers through them. The water cooled. Sawyer must be wondering what had happened to her, and breakfast was probably cold. She switched off the tap and brushed at the last drops of her life with Shane, watching as they swirled down the drain. Starting today, her life would be about her, what she liked and she dreamed. If only she could figure out what those were.
When she stepped back into the bedroom, the room was filled with the delicious scent of bacon and maple syrup, and her stomach grumbled. She’d picked at her dinner that last night with Shane, worried about what would happen after he’d downed a couple more beers. That combined with the stress of everything that had happened meant she was starved.
She threw on some clean clothes. Of course Sawyer had remembered a bag. That was just like him, always thinking ahead, always ready to lend a hand. Even though he constantly saw her at her worst, he still reached out to help. Too bad she’d let her own problems blind her to his kindness.
With a final nerve-calming brush of her hands down her jeans, she tentatively opened the door and eased herself down the stairs, each step more painful than the previous. She hobbled to the kitchen, using the wall for support.
Sawyer stood at the counter, a spatula in his hand and a red apron wrapped around his hips, flipping pancakes on a griddle. Bacon drained on a napkin-covered plate beside the stove, and Chloe had her nose buried in her food bowl in the corner. Although this was a picture of domestic bliss, looks could be deceiving. Rachel’d learned that lesson from her parents the hard way.
She eased into the room. “Hello.”
Sawyer turned and his face brightened. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She spared him a smile that she didn’t feel. It wasn’t his fault that every muscle in her body ached. “I’m surprised, since I groaned the entire way down the stairs.”
He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. “I’m sure you’re sore. Probably will be for a couple of days. Have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Impressive. Shane didn’t have any domestic skills and had routinely criticized her meager attempts at cooking. Despite that, Sawyer, or anyone, shouldn’t be going out of their way to wait on her. She’d never find her self-reliance if she kept allowing people to take care of her. “You didn’t need to do all of this. Aren’t you supposed to be working today?”
“I took the day off. We’ll go in together to make your statement. After that, we’ll go out to the trailer to pick up anything else you need, or I can go by myself. Is there anything else you wanted to do today?”
“I think I’ll rest, but I do want a few things from the trailer.” Like the file she’d hidden from everyone, the papers that revealed the awful truth responsible for her downward spiral.
Sawyer slid a heaping stack of pancakes and three pieces of bacon in front of her. In another minute, a cup of hot coffee warmed her face and Sawyer eased into the chair beside her. A gentle giant, he was always sliding into place, barely disrupting the air around him. A slight touch on her arm, his hand at her back, a soft gaze thrown her way all gave her a sense of calm. Even his voice softened from its authoritative “work” tone to a smooth, silky timbre when he spoke to her. How could a man be so fierce in one minute and warm the next? Was he like this with everyone, or did he reserve his tender side just for her?
“Every day will get a little easier. I promise.”
He had a strange way of knowing exactly what to say. Of getting into her head. He didn’t even have to elaborate.
He looked back toward his plate. Was he easing her into some bad news? “I’ve already talked to Lucas and Joey. They want to see you.”
Well, that didn’t warrant a response right now. She shoved a bite of pancakes in her mouth. “These are great,” she said around the food in her mouth.
“My grandmother’s recipe.”
Rachel’s chewing stilled and she gulped down her bite. “How long has she been gone now?”
“Two years.”
“You were away when she died.” Rachel had still lived at home when Joey burst through the door, announcing Sawyer’s grandmother, who’d been a staple in Oak Grove her entire life, had died. Joey had loved her as much as their own grandparents.
Sawyer had been deployed with his Army Reserve unit at the time. Thankfully, he was able to arrange emergency leave to come home for the funeral. He stood tall and proud in his pressed green uniform at his grandmother’s graveside service. Stoic. Emotionless. Rachel hung in the back while Joey and Lucas comforted Sawyer. What kind of comfort could a girl provide to a hardened soldier? Immediately after the funeral, he returned to his unit. Back to the tour that changed him, that put the shadows in his eyes. He’d come home for good six months later. And she’d been dating Shane.
“Yeah. She lived a long life… a good life. She took good care of me after my parents died. I miss her.”
This time, Rachel placed her hand over Sawyer’s. His eyes shot to where they touched and then to her face. He’d helped her so much, and she’d done nothing for him in return. He shouldn’t have to go through life alone. His parents dying young, his grandmother passing while he was away. Who else did he have?
She could be that person for him, that friend who carried some of the burden. They could carry each other’s troubles and maybe they wouldn’t be so heavy. Sawyer flip
ped his hand over and entwined their fingers together and her stomach jumped. But not from fear.
They sat there for a moment longer. Would he do more? Did he want to hold her hand or was he just being polite? She was so out of practice that she couldn’t tell. Sawyer released her hand and they finished eating.
When his plate was empty, Sawyer swiped at his mouth and dropped his napkin on the table. “I talked to Brittany. She agreed to come to the station with us. I thought it was a good idea.”
When Shane had hit Rachel for the first time, Brittany had offered an ear and her own story of abuse one night at J.J.’s. She was probably the only person who really understood what Rachel was going through. It would be nice to have Brittany there. “Okay. When do we have to go?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Might as well get it done. I’ll get my shoes.”
Chloe leapt up from her bed next to the door and barked.
Sawyer leaned in, the heat from his mouth warm on her ear, and whispered. “You said the magic word—shoes. We don’t say that word too loud in this house.”
Rachel crouched down in front of Chloe. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We’ll go for a walk later.”
Chloe jumped up and down and yipped at the door.
“Now you’ve done it. We never say that word in this house.”
Happiness bubbled in Rachel’s throat. She hadn’t laughed in a long time. Laughter helped put all the bad things in perspective. She’d had nothing to be pleased about recently.
She grabbed her plate and headed to the sink.
He rose to his feet. “I can get those later.”
“I know you can, but I don’t want you taking care of me. For once in my life, I need to take care of myself. Starting today. I can pull my own weight around here. I can’t thank you enough for giving me a place to stay. You’ve been a good friend.”
He winced for a second but quickly recovered. “You’re welcome here as long as you’d like.”
She let those words spin around in her head for a minute. As long as you’d like. Was she considering his offer? And did he mean it? Last night, he’d only agreed to one night, until they could make other arrangements or get her in at the shelter.
But shelters were for women who had nothing, for real victims of abuse. Shane had just smacked her around when he was drunk. How could she take a spot from some desperate woman? If Rachel could just have a safe place to regroup for a few days, she’d be able to get on with her life.
She’d be fine at Sawyer’s—if not for those pesky butterflies fluttering around her stomach. He was Joey’s friend. Her friend-in-law, if that was a thing. But that didn’t explain the attraction he stirred in her. The heat and tingles that invaded her whenever she was around him must be due to hero worship. Nothing else. She’d just wait it out, and before long, everything would be back to normal.
Chapter Six
WHILE RACHEL DRESSED to leave, Sawyer let Chloe out for a quick trip to the backyard. He squeezed his hands against the railing as Chloe turned circles in the grass. When Rachel had walked into the kitchen, he’d had to clench his fists so he wouldn’t snatch her up, wrap her in his arms, and tell her that no one would ever hurt her again. But as they’d talked, she’d relaxed, her voice had lifted, and some of the troubles of her last night with Shane melted away. When she laughed, her face lit up. For a few moments, it was just the two of them, and everything with Shane, and Sawyer’s demons, were outside that room. Her sweet chuckle had jabbed his heart. Now was not the time to let his attraction interfere, not after Shane had almost choked the life out of her.
The door opened and her melodic voice rang out. “Sawyer?”
“Out here.”
As she came toward him, his gut churned. How could anyone ever say a cruel word or raise a hand to her? If Sawyer ever got Shane alone, he’d show the asshole exactly what it meant to be hit by a bigger, stronger bully. The weasel would be begging for Sawyer to stop.
She stepped up beside him, leaning casually against the rail. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He screwed on a smile. “Are you about ready?”
She turned her attention to Chloe darting around the back yard. The lawn had grown thick. He hadn’t had time to mow. When he would find the time, he wasn’t sure now that Rachel was here for the foreseeable future. Because whenever she needed him, he would be there. She was his schedule now.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this done.”
BRITTANY WAS STANDING on the sidewalk when they arrived. They walked into the station together then Sawyer left the girls chatting together in the corner and stepped up to Maureen’s desk. Thank God for Maureen, sticking with Rachel’s call the entire time two nights ago. “How are you this fine morning, beautiful?”
Pink crept up her cheeks. Just the response he was hoping for from the motherly figure who kept their station running like a well-oiled machine. “Just fine, Deputy. Go on back. They’re waiting for you.”
He motioned for the girls and led them to the conference room where Robert and two deputies waited.
Rachel’s face paled beneath the bruise on her cheek. Brittany linked her arm in Rachel’s and marched her to the end of the table. With Rachel between them, Brittany and Sawyer sat.
Hoping some introductions would ease Rachel’s fears, he pointed at Robert. “This is Sheriff Lawrence.” He gestured toward the two deputies at the table. “And the two men on each side of him are Deputy Watkins and Deputy Gilbert. You remember them, don’t you? They were there to help the other night.”
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Help… hardly. All Leon Watkins had done was drag Shane from the trailer after he’d been subdued… by Sawyer. And then Deputy Watkins had scowled at Sawyer, much like right now, when he’d helped Rachel into his cruiser instead of the ambulance. Even now, Leon’s eyes traveled to Sawyer’s arm resting on the back of Rachel’s chair. What Leon thought didn’t matter to Sawyer, but they would have words if the guy decided to direct his ugliness toward Rachel. Sawyer clenched his jaw and bored his gaze into the other man until Leon looked away.
“This is more or less a formality,” Robert began. “We have the other two deputies’ statements and the recording from the other night. Mr. Buckley also gave us plenty of ammunition on the way into the station. But we do need your statement for the record, Miss Bennett.”
Rachel recounted the graphic details of the night she’d endured and the months of verbal and physical abuse leading up to it. From time to time, tears streaked down her cheeks and she swiped at them. But with her head held high, she explained exactly what had happened that last night and many other nights with Shane.
She’d endured so much.
If he had just trusted his instincts and forced her to get out months ago, she wouldn’t have suffered the worst of it. But he hadn’t been sure whether his feelings for her had been clouding his judgement, so he’d restrained himself... and let this happen to her.
“Well, we’re done here. Thank you, Miss Bennett, for coming in and making your statement today. I know this wasn’t easy for you.” Robert’s voice was gentle and soothing, a trait that had served him well as sheriff.
The two other deputies left. The sheriff reached into his breast pocket and slid a card across the table toward Rachel.
“This is Dr. James’s card,” Robert said. “She’s the department’s psychologist. She also has a private practice. If you need to talk, she’ll listen.”
Rachel stared ahead, her eyes unfocused, so Sawyer grabbed the card and placed it in her hand. He closed his fingers around hers and squeezed. Her shifting eyes settled on him and she finally clasped the card with her fingers.
Sawyer tucked his hand in Rachel’s elbow. She probably didn’t need the help, but too bad, he was helping her out of the chair anyway. She’d showed a strength when recounting her story that had reminded him of the old Rachel. Maybe she wasn’t so far below the surface, and a little coaxing would bring her
back.
“Deputy Truman, if I can have a word?” Robert gestured to the table.
Sawyer kept a hold of Rachel’s hand. “Will you be okay for a few minutes with Brittany?”
A smile tugged at Rachel’s lips and her green eyes warmed. “Sure. We’ll head down to Mug ’n Muffin while we’re waiting.”
Now there was a genuine smile. Talking about what happened had done her a world of good. “Okay. I’ll see you there.”
The girls stepped out of the room, and his eyes lingered until they walked out of sight.
Robert cleared his throat. “You did a good job on this call. Things could have escalated quickly and you diffused the situation.”
“Thank you, sir. I just did what anyone would have done.”
“Yeah, but not just anyone has a connection to the victim like you do. “
Sawyer lowered his head. He’d acted inappropriately toward Rachel just now. But her safety was the most important thing, even more important than his job, right now. “I called the shelter. Did you know the one in Chestnut Hill was broken into a couple of weeks ago?”
“The director filed a report so we’d be on the lookout for the same to happen here. Thankfully, ours has remained safe.”
“Well…” OK, man, spit it out and take your medicine like a man. He’d overstepped when he’d allowed Rachel to stay with him… and possibly jeopardized her case. But her safety and his peace of mind were at the forefront. “Our shelter didn’t have any beds last night, and both of the B&Bs were booked for winery tours. Rachel, um, Ms. Bennett refused to go with either of her brothers, and neither of us wanted to make the long drive to Philly.”
“I understand, Sawyer. In small towns like this, you often find yourself on duty twenty-four seven, and procedures sometimes go out the window when a better solution presents itself. We’re all friends and neighbors here, and we look after our own. It shouldn’t cause a problem. We have more than enough evidence against the good Mr. Buckley.”
One Last Chance: A Small-Town Romance (Oak Grove series Book 3) Page 5
