Jones, Beverly R

by All Things Sacred (Lit) (Triskelion)

  Casey broached the subject during one of her evening visits. “Doctor Morrison says the cast on your arm will come off soon and you’ll be able to leave the hospital soon after that. Isn’t that great?”

  “Yes. It’ll be nice to be able to use both hands. I’m anxious to get behind the wheel of a car again. Hit the road and see what trouble I can get into.” She laughed.

  Casey, knowing Kendall had no car and no plans for a road trip, laughed with her sheepishly, as she felt a twinge of guilt at Kendall’s situation. “Dr. Morrison says the cast on your leg will have to stay on for a while longer, but he says you should be able to get around with some help and soon you’ll be able to use crutches. No sense in your being bedridden.”

  “No. No sense in that. I’d much rather take that tour of the nurses’ station I’ve been looking forward to for so long now.” She looked at Casey and laughed, then was mortified by the look on her face. “Oh, I’m such an idiot,” Kendall exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Casey, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “I know,” Casey answered with a weak smile.

  “Really,” Kendall continued, “none of this is your fault. Please forgive me for being so insensitive. You’ve been so good to me. I feel awful for making such stupid jokes.”

  “Hey, you’re entitled. After what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you can make jokes at all.”

  “Well, it was a dumb thing to say. I guess I’m just keyed up about the prospect of getting out of here.”

  “Which brings me to what I really wanted to talk to you about. We don’t want you to worry about anything. We plan to take very good care of you, you know.”

  “We?” Kendall asked.

  “Tom and Jackson and I. We want you to come home and stay with us, for as long as you need.”

  “Oh, no, I can’t do that,” Kendall said quickly.

  “Of course you can. I don’t mean to sound unfeeling, but you have nowhere to go. And until you figure that out, you’re coming home with us.”

  “Casey Anne, you’re very sweet, but I’ve spoken with a social worker here. They’re willing to find a place for me until I can get on my feet. Literally and figuratively.” She laughed again. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I absolutely will not have you staying at some home run by the state,” Casey spouted with indignation. “Look, we have six bedrooms in that big old house of ours and we only use two of them, so you have your pick of the other four.”

  “But, Casey, you don’t really know me. You can’t just take a complete stranger into your home. I wouldn’t even feel comfortable letting you do that.”

  “No, I don’t know who you are, completely. But I like the Kendall I’ve come to know so far, and I owe my life to you. Besides, I was a complete stranger to you when you stopped your car and prevented that man from doing God knows what to me. And I intend to return the favor, as feeble in comparison as it might be. So I don’t want to hear anymore about it. When the doctor discharges you, I’ll be here to pick you up.”

  “But your family…”

  “Jackson and Tom are the only family I have. And they both are as grateful to you as I am. You may not know anything about Southern hospitality, but we certainly don’t turn people who’ve risked their lives for us out on the street. And that’s that.” Casey finished with a firm stare as she pursed her lips and folded her arms.

  “Okay.” Kendall laughed at Casey’s fortitude. She was frankly quite relieved, for her confusion and doubt as to what would become of her had been gnawing at her. Casey had allayed any fears she might have had, for the time being, anyway. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. We’ve all talked about it and we’re all sure. You’re coming home with us.” With that, Casey stood and walked toward the hospital room door. She turned as she was leaving and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep.”

  ≈≈≈

  He sighed heavily as he stared into the computer screen, then threw the mouse against the wall and seethed. “I’ll find you, Katherine. Don’t think I won’t.”

  He was thirty-two years old, but he felt more like fifty-two. He was tired, stressed, out of patience. He had only slept an average of two to three hours each night for over a week. All this crap was supposed to have been behind him by now. He should be in St. Lucia, enjoying the island sun and crystal waters.

  Instead, he was sitting here in front of a computer continually searching, searching and then searching some more. He had followed every possible clue in trying to locate her and all of his attempts had turned into a dead end. She hadn’t even accessed her checking account since that night. Her credit cards had not been used once. It was as if she had just dropped off the face of the earth.

  But he knew better. She was out there somewhere. And he was determined to find her. Either that, or at least figure out where she had put the money. Luckily, he had long ago transferred one million dollars of the money and had it safely tucked away in secret offshore bank accounts. But it wasn’t nearly enough. If only he’d had more time. But he’d run out of time, thanks to her. And now she had $500,000 of his money, and he wanted every penny of what he had worked so hard to amass.

  His life in St. Lucia awaited him. He had earned it, he deserved it, and he also knew the smartest thing to do was to get out of the country right away. Plus, he had become weary of continually dodging the police, hiding out in a rented ranch house in a small community two hours away from Hardison. But five hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money, money that belonged to him, not her. That scheming little bitch. The more he thought about her, the more he wasn’t sure which would bring him more pleasure, finding the money or making her pay for all the trouble she’d put him through. Reflectively, he fingered the gauze bandage at the back of his right shoulder, near the base of his neck. Another inch or two and she would have hit his carotid artery. Oh, she’d pay for that, too.

  He brushed a lock of coal black hair from his forehead and retrieved the computer mouse, placing it back onto its pad. He had been at this for days, hours on end, searching the Internet. He was hoping she’d been in an accident, been arrested, something that would provide a clue to her whereabouts. Short of getting in his car and driving to every city, town and crossroads in this country, there seemed to be no other way to find her.

  He was sick and tired, though, of continually accessing newspaper, radio and television websites, hoping to find even the smallest article that might make mention of her. He had searched the websites of every police department in every major city in twenty-nine of the fifty states so far, reading through dozens of press releases. There had been reports of abandoned cars found, unidentified bodies of women discovered, but none of them led him to her. He had started with the police departments and media sources in Nevada and had searched up and down the west coast before moving east across the country. Maybe that was his mistake. Perhaps he should move his Internet search to the east coast and work his way back west. There was no telling how far she may have gotten by now.

  It was then that the thought suddenly struck him. Would she have gone there? Surely not. Why would she? What purpose would that serve? Unless, now, she had something to gain from it. He sat back in his chair and smiled to himself. Of course, she was there. Knowing how greedy she was, why wouldn’t she go there? Feeling re-energized, he continued his computer search, pulling up the media websites of the major cities in South Carolina, all the while asking himself why he hadn’t thought of this before.

  ≈≈≈

  As Casey drove out of Athens, she wished there was a hospital nearer to home, but she in no way felt begrudgingly about it. She would gladly make the seventy-mile trip and more if she had to in order to bring some form of comfort to the woman who had so selflessly come to her rescue. Tom had accompanied her on her trips quite a few times, but Jackson had not been to the hospital once since she had returned from her honeymoon. Casey was a bit confused by his sudden abrasiveness, for she knew he had been at the hospital al
most continuously while she and Tom were away. Jackson had also taken an earnest part in the discussions about bringing Kendall to their home and he was wholeheartedly in favor of it. So why all of a sudden did he seem to have one excuse after another as to why he couldn’t make time to visit Kendall at the hospital?

  Casey knew Jackson’s days were busy ones and that managing their farm was quite an undertaking, but she also knew that John Watts and his crew were there every day of the week running things. Although Jackson felt the underlying responsibility for everything, he also had the freedom to come and go as he pleased, leaving things in John’s capable hands. Of course, not only was there the farm on which Jackson, Casey and Tom now lived and worked, but there were also wide expanses of Coley farmland throughout the county that earned large rental revenues from area farmers eager to expand their crop and income. But even that didn’t require Jackson to be on hand 24/7. Jackson often put in ten-to twelve-hour days, returning to the house only for lunch. Not because he didn’t trust that John could keep things running smoothly, but because he loved it.

  Casey often teased Jackson about their “retiring” from farm work, but her brother, at the age of thirty-one, wasn’t likely to even consider it. Even though they only farmed a limited number of acres now, she knew Jackson would never be able to quit farming entirely and would never leave this land. Lord, he was so different from James Lee. The thought of her other brother brought another pang to her heart. He had been gone for nearly twelve years now. She wondered if he were even still alive. Even if he were, Casey knew he would never come back here.

  But Jackson loved the land and loved the work, even though its income was not a necessity to their survival. Their parents had left the three children very wealthy, although James Lee had not hung around long enough to even discover his share. An even greater wealth, however, would have come from the sale of all the Coley farmland, but Jackson wasn’t about to sell it.

  Their grandfather, Jonathan Coley, who had inherited most of the land from his own father, had expanded his land ownership over the years, adding substantially to his wealth after World War II. Jackson’s biggest asset, like his father and grandfather before him, was his innate ability of farm management, making decisions as to choice of farming practices, what, when and how much to produce, the allocation of available resources for production, the size of the farm operation and purchase of land or additional resources. Jackson’s day-to-day ingenuity of meeting the constantly changing conditions of farming was an astuteness that was both innate and learned.

  From an early age, Jackson, unlike James Lee, showed such admiration for his father and an appreciation for the land that there was no question as to where Jackson’s future lay. And it was not just farming that held Jackson to this land. It was the land itself and the balance it lent to his life, from the opulent soil and freedom of sweeping skies to the animals and plants that were nature’s complements. All of his senses were born of the natural order of things. Whether he was prosperous or not, his soul always had been and always would be at rest in this land. As a pastor would his congregation, Jackson had an assiduous love for the organic inhabitants of his church. From the open fields to the wooded acres of pines and massive oaks, Jackson was intimately acquainted with his world and all that resided therein, caretaker to all. Every tree, every plant, every crop, every horse, every fish in every pond. Jackson Coley had found his heaven, and it sprang from rich, South Carolina soil.

  Casey knew that his financial wealth was of little consequence to him. He was the most unassuming man she’d ever known, and though now he was also one of the wealthiest, she believed her brother’s true happiness was found in his appreciation for each day he worked and breathed this land.

  Her thoughts suddenly turned to a long-hidden concern for her brother. Her feelings of happiness for herself and Tom were tinged with a sadness for her brother. She wished for him the same kind of destiny she had discovered with Tom. She wanted that for Jackson, because she knew how much he needed it, though he wouldn’t admit that himself. Since Melissa’s death, there didn’t seem much prospect of it. He seemed to have shut himself off entirely from the possibility. There had been women in his life who had appreciated his wealth and status, but none who shared his appreciation for the simple pleasures life offered. The sight of freshly cleansed trees and foliage after a summer rain, and the earthy smell it induced. The soothing sounds of the creeks that stretched throughout the dense forest, their rippling streams bouncing over rocky bottoms and lapping at muddy banks. An unexpected summer breeze bringing refreshment to hot, tired muscles. Waking to an April morning with sleeping azaleas, irises and day lilies springing to life. The strength and splendor of a massive oak offering comfort and shade. Casey knew that Jackson’s happiness lay in sharing all these things. They were gifts to him, gifts that left him grateful and humble.

  He had hoped Melissa would fall in love with the land, just as he had. And though Casey believed that Melissa had loved him as best she could, Jackson’s wife had been no more earth mother than Leona Helmsley. Casey had noticed in the months before Melissa’s death that her interests had been focusing more and more on the opportunities that wealth afforded her. She seemed to feel that Jackson had enough love of nature for the both of them. Melissa’s desire to partake in either farm or family had been waning. Whether Jackson came to realize this before she died, Casey didn’t know. She did know that he was anguished at her death.

  Since then, Jackson had dated a few women who had been eager to replace her, but none who was stimulated as much by his good nature as by the wealth he represented. Tall and ruggedly handsome, his tanned and muscular body toned by hard work under hot, luminous South Carolina skies, Jackson had attracted a frenzy of women who found his good looks and money to be the fundamental attraction. He repelled almost all of them. There had been, however, two women since Melissa died with whom he’d had more than casual relationships, those that Jackson had felt held a promise of more, only to discover that their admiration for him had nothing to do with him at all.

  The worst of these had been Karen, whom Jackson had truly fallen in love with, unable to see beyond her beauty and what he thought to be her happy fulfillment with life itself, until he discovered her undying reverence of all things material. He had been pained to discover how little he mattered to her. Ultimately, in the last couple of years, he had settled into an acceptance of a single life, pouring all of his endeavors and spirit into what he loved most – the land.

  His only present acceptance of female companionship could be found in Cynthia Gamble, with whom he felt neither enthusiastic nor optimistic about an ensuing relationship. And that seemed to be just the way he liked it. Cynthia lived on a neighboring farm and Jackson had known her since they were both five years old, riding the bus together to school, sharing family picnics, fishing in Jackson’s favorite pond on the Coley farm.

  Not long after Jackson and Melissa had wed, Cynthia married and moved away, but had returned after only a year to live with her father on their farm. Her marriage over, she was eager to resume her friendship with Jackson, but that had not sat well with Melissa. After Melissa’s death, Jackson cared nothing about maintaining a friendship with Cynthia or any other woman, even though Cynthia pressed the matter continually. Eventually, Jackson came around and accepted Cynthia’s offer of friendship, though he was reluctant to see her on a daily basis, a matter which obviously annoyed Cynthia, as she was calling or dropping by the house at least once or twice a week, trying to prod him into one social engagement or another.

  As time went on, however, the two settled into a ‘see-you-when-I-see-you’ kind of friendship. If there was anything Cynthia needed, Jackson was always there, but he rarely made the initial contact himself. He was simply her companion at leisure, an agreeable attendant to her social needs. If Cynthia required an escort to a party or event, Jackson was happy to oblige. Other than these occasional outings, Jackson showed little interest. Given the fact that thi
s ‘friendship’ had continued for quite a while now, Casey thought it odd that the two of them hadn’t grown any closer. Jackson still maintained a casual indifference to Cynthia’s whereabouts, though he responded pleasantly at any request she had for him. Theirs was a peculiar relationship, but one that seemed to satisfy them both. Apparently, neither of them held any misguided aspirations of romance or love.

  Casey sensed that Jackson’s present lifestyle, particularly his relationship with Cynthia, was one borne of a need to remove himself from any possibility of further loss, to prevent the destruction of feelings he once held dear, to keep safe all things sacred. With Cynthia he had no fear of a shattered heart. He felt nothing for her beyond the obvious. Restricting his social and personal life to only Cynthia protected Jackson from another disappointment of a ruined relationship, something he now felt was inevitable should he venture down that road again. To Casey, it seemed that Jackson’s sole intention was to maintain enough indifference within his heart to prevent him from having any capricious notions of offering it up again for further disillusionment. God help the woman who might come into his life and truly grow to love Jackson Coley. Casey feared that not only would Jackson be averse to trusting this offer of love, he wouldn’t even recognize it.

  As Casey turned onto Highway 42 and headed toward home, her thoughts returned to Kendall. She seemed genuinely kind, and her selfless gesture in coming to Casey’s aid on this very roadside was a rarity in today’s world. Casey knew that Jackson also felt indebted to Kendall, so why his sudden change in attitude? Casey had seen on the day of the attack that Jackson had shown a devoted concern for Kendall’s welfare. He had willingly sat waiting while she’d been in surgery, had been adamant about taking care of her medical bills, had agreed with Casey that Kendall should stay with them when they realized she had no place to go. The nurse had even told her Jackson had sat by Kendall’s bed, talking to her for hours while she lay in a coma.