by Amity Green
“Oh yeah,” Molly said. “Looks like the rain let up.” She grabbed the towel Savannah had used and left toward the front door while Savannah started folding up the paper sacks.
“If we had a garage, the floor wouldn’t be all wet right now,” Molly called from the mud room.
Savannah grinned. It was a good point.
* * *
Daddy’s ledger showed a grain order about seven months ago. Earlier that afternoon Savannah had to scrape the bottom of the last barrel to get enough for all five horses. Letting the grain run out was a dumb, childish move. She’d have to spend a lot of time checking to make sure everything kept going as if Jack himself still ran the place. They’d never run out of anything before. She sipped at her mint tea and dug out the card for the feed store to make sure the last check written matched where she wanted to get grain. They were at the feed store earlier that day and she hadn’t remembered. Running the household and the farm stuff was a big deal.
The card for the cattle auction was in a plastic slot right under the one for the farrier. She pulled it out and read it. The thought of riding to count cows was daunting. She didn’t once tell Dad, but Savannah really couldn’t stand cows. There was no way to tell him that, knowing—or believing, rather, that they made their living off the cattle. That simply wasn’t the case anymore. Ranch life had once called for the raising of cattle to keep it operating, but that was before the change.
She leaned the card on the base of the phone, planning to call and sell off every last slobbering, stinking cow first thing in the morning and use that money for her plan to have a garage built. The fat phone book for their area contained listings for Colorado Springs, as well as their little town. She let her fingers do the walking through the Yellow Pages and found too many ads for construction companies that built garages. In the morning she’d call the one with the biggest ad, Father and Sons, to talk with someone about getting started.
The daily mail contained a letter from the University of Colorado. The invitation was for something she’d never be able to do. The thought of more school after graduation wasn’t thrilling anyway, but now that the choice wasn’t an option, it looked pretty great. Many friends from school were already packing bags to go. She would stay put and take care of her sister and their home.
The packet from the college went into the trash can. Next was a thick envelope addressed to Dad from some guy with “Esq.” behind his name. She used the letter opener and carefully split the envelope along the top and began reading.
Four full pages later Savannah dropped the letter, which was actually divorce papers, teary eyed. She pulled out a black pen. Caroline Caleman wished to once more become Caroline Tearney. Jack could remain on the ranch and the two older children of the marriage would stay with him. The youngest child of the marriage would remain in the state of Alabama with his mother. A settlement of $750,000.00 would cover the division of any and all joint property. The amount of $375.00 each month would be sent to Caroline in Alabama for the care and support of the minor child, Chaz, who had no inclination to visit his father or sisters due to past trauma and abuse.
Savannah scrolled Jack’s name angrily on each marked line. She wrote out two checks as instructed, but made the second one out after calculating nine years of monthly payments for her little brother. She’d mail off the payments and the signed divorce papers first thing. Caroline would get what she wanted, and it would keep her away for good. Their mother would never hurt them again.
For one last time, Savannah dropped her face into her hands and cried about missing her family, the loss of her little brother breaking what was left of her heart. Molly was her responsibility, and so was every other living thing on the place, and it was all thanks to Witcher. She hated that she thought about the monster, but everything that happened was because of him. Overwhelmed, she laid her head on the desk, the cool wood soothing her hot cheek.
“It’s for the best,” Witcher said, softly.
Savannah jumped, breath catching in her chest hard enough to hurt. She narrowed her sight on him with swollen, watery eyes as he seated himself in one of the ornate chairs across the desk. She shook her head with a sarcastic laugh.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t like to hear you cry.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And I haven’t collected, yet. It’s clear you need time to become the lady of this house.”
“Thanks for thinking of me. Now get out.” For once, the fear wasn’t there. Anger about everything welled up, but Savannah did her best and cooled off. He remained in the chair, watching her with huge, soft eyes.
“You’re doing a good job here. Molly is happy.”
“Leave. Now.”
He rose and walked to face a bookcase. He ran his fingers over a wooden shelf. “After all that’s happened, you still won’t talk to me.” He turned to her. “I will help you here, Savannah. I will make it easier for you to help Molly.”
“This is all your fault!” She exploded at him. “Everything! Now there is a divorce. Our mother is divorcing Molly and me. I’ll never see my little brother again and it is all because of you.” Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. She grabbed the desk lamp and threw it at him with everything she had. He moved easily, letting the lamp crash into the books behind his head. They stared at each other while Savannah panted and sobbed.
“You’re angry.”
“No shit.”
“It’s okay to be angry, Savannah.” Witcher took his eyes off her and let his gaze roam the study. “I’ve always loved this part of the house.” The warmth was gone from his voice and one side of his mouth quirked in a half smile. “The secrecy. The books,” he said, walking toward the desk, “the photographs.”
Savannah crossed her arms, doing her best to quit crying.
“The books with photographs,” he said, watching her for a reaction.
“Please leave. Seriously, I want you to go.”
“Your anger is welcome, Savannah. It lets me be angry, too.” He leaned against the side of the desk. “Jack loved this room. He was happy you didn’t come here. Happy Caroline didn’t come here. He shared this place with Molly.”
“Don’t,” she said, pointing at his chest.
“He showed her his books,” he said, gesturing to the desk drawer. “And she liked them.”
Savannah grabbed the letter opener and rushed him, slashing at his throat and face. He grabbed her hands.
“You see, this is why we can’t be close. You let your anger ruin what we could be together.” He squeezed her wrist hard, shaking her arm. “Drop it.”
The little bones at the base of her hand screamed under the pressure. Afraid he would break her arm, she let the little blade slide free to clink against the floor. Before she could take another breath, his lips were on hers. He pressed every bit of his body against her hard. Soon, she'd forgotten about the lost breath, feeling each nerve ending sparking, awakening to him. He broke the kiss and looked deep into her eyes, gazing at every inch of her face.
He shoved her backwards hard.
She landed in the desk chair in a clumsy heap and struggled to get a mental grip.
He straightened out the wrinkles in his shirt, refastening the top button. She sat straight, glaring as he went back to the chair where he’d sat earlier.
“You need to find another way to vent your anger.”
“Not from my angle. You deserve it.”
“Let’s talk about that. I do not deserve your wrath.” “How can you say that?”
“I gave you sight. I became for you. I’ve gifted you in that way. I allowed you to know the attention of a man you find beautiful.”
“I’d rather have my glasses back. I never asked you for anything. I was fine without boys.”
“You asked me to save Molly. You begged me. Twice.”
“To stop doing what you’d done to her,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re the one who hurt her and I asked you to stop.”
> “You enraged me. I acted on my anger, just as you act on yours when you try to hurt me.”
She sat back, mystified and at a loss for words.
“I think you understand,” he said, softening his voice. “It’s been three days since we last spoke. I was hopeful it would go better than last time.”
“I don’t want to talk to you. Stay away from me and my sister.”
“I’m afraid I cannot. You, I could but do not want to. But not Molly. I have an interest in her safety.” He walked around the side of the desk and knelt before her. “It’s you that I want to be with. I want you, Savannah, but I don’t need you. It’s desire for you I feel here,” he said, putting a hand over his heart. “It burns for you here.”
She didn’t respond, just watched him acting like he was honestly capable of loving her. He grasped her hands and pulled her up with him.
“You can love me. You’ve seen me.”
She braced herself, knowing what was next. He pulled her close and leaned in slowly, stopping just before letting their lips meet.
“You told me you would try. Please keep your word,” he whispered. “I will be everything for you.”
She watched him, so close and so beautiful, the image of her perfect man covering up the demon beneath. His touch was soft, just the way she’d once imagined it to be, and his voice almost like music. He smiled, watching her. He was right, if she gave in, just let herself go, there wouldn’t be more fighting or pain or fear for her sister. Even with him so close, her own pain lessened.
He continued to wait for her, to make her be the one who took the first step for the intimate feel of their lips together. Savannah shut her eyes and closed the space, gently placing her mouth against his. He reciprocated, moving so slowly that her whole body came to life, waiting to feel what he would do next. There was fear and anticipation. Kissing him was a small thing, but she was too afraid of him taking it further.
Witcher broke the kiss and placed a few little pecks over her cheeks. “When we are finally together, it will be you who comes to me.” He cupped her face, watching her eyes. “I hate to see you worry. I will not take you until you ask me.” He let his hands drop and stepped back.
A knock sounded on the thick door. “Savannah?” Molly called. She pulled the door open and walked in, looking from the busted lamp to the desk and then straight to where Savannah stood alone with cooling tears still on her face.
Savannah gathered her composure and bent for the lamp, but Molly beat her to it. The shade was crumpled, and Molly put a hand inside it, pressing out the indentation while holding awkward silence. She let go and Savannah placed it where it belonged on the desktop.
“I thought I heard something going on in here. Are you okay now?” Molly kept her distance, leaning against the bookcase, far from the desk.
“Sorry. I was upset. Mom sent divorce papers for Dad. I signed them.”
Molly nodded, a little too quickly for Savannah’s liking. Her lips drew so tight they were pale white. “Good riddance,” she said. “I hope she never comes back.”
Her anger was understandable, although Savannah had to wonder how much Molly thought about Chaz.
“Yeah. I’ll mail it off in the morning. Sorry if I worried you.”
Molly’s eyes fixed on the desk, wandering from drawer to drawer. She looked up, gaze full of unsaid thoughts, so much it made her look scared and panicky.
“I need to tell you something about Dad.”
“It’s okay Molly, I know. You don’t have to—”
“Savannah, I have to tell you!” she yelled. “It’s important that I just tell somebody and really, you need to know. Please just listen for a minute?”
Savannah closed her mouth and watched pain mount in her sister’s eyes, ready to catch her when she fell to pieces.
“He started doing things, I mean like sex stuff, a few years before we moved from the ranch. He didn’t hurt me or anything.” She looked at the carpet and breathed a huge sigh. “I watched the two of you and I thought you did the things with him, too, you know? You hugged him all the time, and so did I. When we moved here, we spent a lot of time in the study.” She stopped talking and walked to the door, which she shut hard and locked with two interior sliding bolts.
She faced Savannah again, pointing at the door. “He figured we were hidden away in here, but this isn’t where … it happened. He came into my room for that. Here, he just showed me magazines and asked me what I liked about them. He touched me and himself at the same time.”
Savannah held back tears, refusing to let any visuals cross her mind’s eye. Finally, she just nodded. “I guess I can understand why you’d need to tell someone. I’m glad you did.” Inside she cringed. She had to wonder if it would have been easy to believe her sister three years ago.
Molly nodded, but looked down at her shoes. Savannah jumped up and hugged her as close as she could.
“Thank you for saving me, Savannah. Mom didn’t believe me.”
“I wish I could have helped you sooner,” she said, holding her little sister tight.
After a moment, Molly stepped back. “Why don’t you come out of here for the night? Let’s make Jiffy Pop and watch TV.”
Savannah nodded. “Let me put things away and I’ll be right there.” She closed the ledger and put the paperwork in a drawer, then followed Molly out and they went to the kitchen.
“How are your bunnies doing?” Savannah dug inside a cupboard for the popcorn.
“Great,” Molly replied. She sat down at the table where a notebook was opened to a sketch. Savannah went over to see what she’d drawn.
“Wow, this is really good.” Savannah admired Molly’s drawing of a beaded dress design that was short in the front with a big raised collar and a long, sparkling train. The model was perfectly proportioned, the head faceless. “It’s a shame all you have is lined notebook paper. You’re great at this.”
“You think so?” Molly looked back at her sketch. “I’ve got more. I love drawing my ideas for dresses. I know they’re sort of wild, but somebody out there might like them.”
“Let’s add sketchbooks and colored pencils to the shopping list. We have to go back to town because I forgot to buy grain.”
“Dad ordered it with the alfalfa hay for the horses. Maybe you could just do that to get a lot all at once.”
“Good idea. I’ll have to pick some up tomorrow to last until I figure that out.” She went to the stove to start the burner. The digital clock stated it was already 9:47.
“Um, I don’t want any of that, if you don’t. Instead, I think I’m going to go round up all my drawings. Can we get some folders too? Maybe a binder for them?”
Relieved that Molly didn’t want to watch TV, Savannah shut the burner down and put the popcorn back in the cabinet. “I think that’s a great idea. I had no idea you were serious about designing dresses.” She took a seat at the table and leaned on an elbow.
“You look beat.” Molly smiled to let her know it wasn’t a put-down. “I’m pretty tired,” she admitted. Letting her emotions get the best of her wore her down quickly. Witcher always put her over the edge.
Molly nodded. “So, let’s not think about Mom anymore, okay? She left and that’s that. She’s happy and she’ll take good care of Chaz. It’s not worth being miserable over, really. Then she’d win.”
“I’ll try.” Savannah pulled her hair back from where it draped onto the table, fidgeting with the ends. “I miss Chaz a lot.”
“Yeah. But he’s with Mom and she won’t let anything bad happen to him. Honestly, I’m glad he wasn’t here for what happened with Dad.”
Savannah nodded, shaking it off before she got upset again. “Just a thought,” she said, pointing at the notebook, “if you join Four H, you could take sewing to brush up on what Mom taught us. That way maybe you could make some of these.”
“That would be awesome,” Molly said, with a nod. She picked up the book. “I’m headed upstairs. Gonna look for all my dre
sses and get them ready for a binder. Night.”
“Love you,” Savannah called after her.
“Love you, too.”
Savannah went to the front room and looked outside. Low clouds covered the moon, trailing the rainstorm earlier. The trees glistened in muted moonglow, their leaves still wet with glimmering droplets. She pulled the curtains, locked the front door and let her hands drop, looking at the deadbolt. Witcher could come and go, and there was nothing she could do about that. If a burglar, or worse, really wanted to, he could just bust in through a window. They’d be upstairs, two girls sleeping, pretty much defenseless and unknowing. That had to change. She had to protect her sister. Maybe the construction company could install a tough, iron gate and iron bars on the lower level windows.
All the worry wasn’t enough to fight off a fierce yawn. She went upstairs and walked past Molly’s room. The door was closed and light shone from the gap beneath. Prince and the Revolution jammed away from her sister’s cassette player. Without disturbing the bit of normalcy inside, she went to her room and changed for bed.
* * *
Sleep was heavy and warm, her mind drifting away from current troubles to easier times where the surreal ruled and nothing mattered. There was a familiar faceless boy and he was good, the right boy. He picked her up, way above his head. She stretched her arms as high as she could, reaching for the clouds and the wind. They ran through tall hay together and wrestled, laughed and kissed, the tops of the grass feather soft wherever they touched. The breeze was cool, but wherever he touched her, heat ignited. She touched the places he liked, eagerly, wanting nothing more than to make him feel as good as he did her. It was a game they played together and had been for a long time, the game of touching, urging each other on the way she did to him, guiding his hands and him bringing her closer and closer to the best feeling ever. The game could only be played with him, but that was perfect because he was good, so she slid his hands wherever she wanted and he kept touching.
