Jackson bent and began sweeping the broken dish and green beans into a dustpan, while Casey finished setting the table. Tom went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, then began putting ice in glasses for the tea. Kendall sat for a while and watched them as they went about their tasks. She knew they wanted to comfort her by returning the atmosphere to one of normalcy. She imagined, briefly, what it would be like if she truly belonged to them, and they to her, their hearts and spirits bonded forever, a family unlike any other. She shook the thought from her head, knowing her fate, sadly, lay elsewhere. She went to the oven and removed the pork roast for their supper.
≈≈≈ Cynthia sat on the couch in the den, the television volume turned low, thankful her father was away from the house. Having him around got on her last nerve, especially the way he watched the same television channel each night, never wavering from what he insisted was the only TV station left in the nation that hadn’t ‘gone to the dogs.’ And he always had the sound blaring at an unbearable decibel. Every evening the entire county probably got an auditory account of Channel 13’s programming schedule. The old coot must be deaf, but would he go to the doctor for a hearing aid? Hell, no. He’d rather his daughter unite with him in the world of the hearing-impaired. Thank God he’d driven to Athens that afternoon and wouldn’t be back until late.
Still, she was having a hard time concentrating on the television program she was watching, even though it was on Channel 8, for a change. Her mind kept wandering to that bitch over at the Coley farm, who, apparently had moved in lock, stock and barrel. Cynthia was not going to stand for that much longer. Jackson Coley was the richest, most eligible man in the tri-county area, and she intended to marry him. She hadn’t been hanging around this pathetic little town, living with her pathetic old father for this long, just to let some stranger swoop in and take what should rightfully be hers. No way. She had been working on Jackson for such a long time, playing the sweet naïve earth girl he seemed to like so much, and she’d been so close to watching him fall for every bit of it. Until Kendall came along and distracted the hell out of him. Now things were going to be more difficult.
She had seen the change in him since Kendall had arrived, whether he wanted to admit it or not. She actually couldn’t care less if he were falling in love with Kendall. Cynthia had always known that Jackson’s heart would never belong to her, and who gave a damn about that, anyway? He was still going to be hers, and it didn’t matter if he were hers forever, as long as he was hers first.. Besides, nothing was forever. Except alimony, maybe. As long as she became Mrs. Jackson Coley, she didn’t really care who he fell in love with after that. But she also knew that Jackson was not likely to marry her as long as Kendall was living on that farm, playing the part of the insipid homemaker, cooking and cleaning and scrubbing. The stupid woman was probably over there canning something right at this very moment, for Christ’s sake.
The sound of the doorbell chiming startled Cynthia so much that she jolted upright on the couch, as if whoever was standing at the door could read her thoughts. She put her hand to her breast, blew out a pent-up breath, and swung her legs onto the floor. Who the hell was showing up here without calling first, she wondered. Other people around here might live that way, but unannounced visitors pissed her off. She stomped to the front door and swung it open.
The man standing there certainly was a surprise: nice body, nice face, but he had the ugliest shade of red hair she’d ever seen. For some reason, though, he looked vaguely familiar. She looked him up and down without saying a word.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I hope I haven’t intruded upon your evening, but I was hoping you might be able to help me.”
“I doubt it,” Cynthia said and folded her arms across her chest.
The man smiled at her. “I’m a reporter with the, um, Athens Daily News, and I’m doing a human interest story on the young woman who was involved in that terrible accident in Logan City. I understand she suffered a memory loss, and since you live in the community, perhaps you could give me your thoughts on her progress, how she’s faring.”
“Why don’t you go ask her yourself?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Go ask her yourself. She’s still staying right over there on the Coley farm.” Cynthia raised an arm and pointed eastward.
“She’s still on the Coley farm, is she? Well, isn’t that generous of them.”
“Look, buddy, you’re boring me. Since you’re a reporter and so giddy about human interest, why don’t you do the community a favor and go figure out where she came from, so she can go the hell back there? I, for one, couldn’t care less about her.”
“Oh, really?” He smiled wide, his teeth glowing.
“Really. The only story I want to read about her is that she’s gone from my life for good.”
He smiled again, his upper lip twitching at the corner. “And just how badly do you want to get rid of her?”
≈≈≈
Kendall awoke the next morning and sighed heavily as she realized her sleep had been completely uneventful. She had hoped for another dream, or nightmare if necessary, that would conjure up reminders of her life as it used to be. Not that she was eager to return to it, but she hated this feeling of being in limbo. Until she figured out who she was and where she came from, she would never feel completely whole.
She was also anxious to solve the question of the missing money and what role she may have played in its disappearance. She wanted to believe that she would never have been involved in anything like that, but how could she know? And what of these two men? Was the one named Ted Kendall truly her husband? A big part of her hoped he wasn’t. But nothing else seemed to make sense. And even though she’d had a painful memory that conveyed possible danger, why did she not feel fearful of either one of these men? It seemed to her that she was closely connected to both of them, though she couldn’t explain in what way. What connection did she have to them that left her with a sense of security? Or was it false security? And how did both of them tie into the missing money? Had she really stolen that money? Or had one of these men stolen it and blamed her? These were all questions to which she desperately wanted answers.
Those thoughts remained with her throughout the day as she went about her usual tasks. Several times she stopped and tried to force herself to remember. She had even sat on the back porch in the afternoon shelling peas for supper with her eyes closed, commanding a memory to come forth, but her attempts had been unsuccessful.
With supper prepared and warming in the oven, Kendall headed out to the barn. She sometimes found its stillness and dim atmosphere provided a quiet place to sit and reflect, the fresh smell of hay and shards of light spilling from the loft offering comfort and solitude.
“Hey, boy, how ya doing today?” Kendall called to Sam as he stood near the corral fence. She looked around cautiously as she walked near the corral on her way to the barn. Though Jackson was out somewhere on the farm with the crew, probably far away from the house, Kendall remained wary of getting too close to the horse. She didn’t want a replay of Jackson’s anger should he find her anywhere near the fence. Besides, the entire crew might be rolling in any minute now. It was nearing six o’clock and the dinner hour, and Jackson had a way of popping up when she least expected it. Sam loftily shook his head and snorted at her, as if to remind her that he was off limits.
“Even bad boys deserve a treat once in a while, huh?” Kendall said as she tossed an ear of field corn over the fence. It landed at Sam’s feet and he lowered his long neck and scooped the corn up eagerly. Kendall stood for a moment watching the horse. “You’re not such a bad boy, though, are you? Bet you’d like to go for a ride again, far out over acres and acres of farmland. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She wondered how long it had been, before she arrived here, since Sam had been able to do that. In the weeks that Kendall had been at the Coley farm, Sam’s exploits unfortunately consisted only of grazing in the pasture or ambling around the corral. There had
been a few occasions when Kendall had caught Sam running along the perimeter of the pasture, as if he had secret thoughts of an escape. She imagined him jumping the fence and running off alongside the highway to freedom. She almost wished she could let him out and wave goodbye as he galloped away to adventures unknown.
Kendall tossed away such quixotic thoughts and continued on to the barn. The sound of crunching gravel caught her attention and she looked toward the long drive that led from the highway. Plumes of dust billowed from the tires of Cynthia’s Grand Marquis. Kendall saw her in the driver’s seat, steering the car at a frenzied pace, her fists gripping the steering wheel precisely at the ten- and two-o’clock positions. Kendall thought she resembled an old lady in a shopping cart race, her blonde hair piled stiffly atop her head, with a determined look of beating the other shoppers to the best selections of produce. The thought made Kendall laugh and she wondered why Cynthia seemed so intense about everything she did.
Hoping to escape another encounter with her, Kendall picked up her pace as she headed toward the barn. After all, Casey was in the house and it wasn’t as if Cynthia were here to visit with Kendall. Just as she neared the barn door, Kendall stopped and flinched as she heard her name called.
“Kendall! Yoo-hoo!” Cynthia summoned her as she waved a dainty hand in her direction.
Kendall’s shoulders dropped as she turned and walked to meet Cynthia in the yard. “Hello, Cynthia. How are you?” Kendall greeted her politely, then added, “Casey’s in the house.”
“Oh, but dear, I’m here to see you,” Cynthia said smugly as she stood with her hands folded around her purse.
“Me?” Kendall said as she tilted her head in a bewildered expression.
“Yes. I was wondering if that man of yours had found you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The man who was asking about you. He stopped by my place just yesterday and wanted to know if it were true that a woman with amnesia was staying with the Coleys.”
Kendall’s knees began to quiver as she stammered, “And what did you tell him?”
“Well, I told him that of course you were here. What else would you have expected me to tell him? The man was obviously anxious to locate you. I thought surely by now he would have found you and taken you back home.” Cynthia flashed Kendall a self-satisfied smile.
“Taken me back home? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kendall’s heart was racing now, driven by a compulsion of anxiety and fear.
“Yes. Home. Has he not been here yet? That’s odd.”
“What makes you think he was here to take me back home? And where is ‘home’ exactly? I don’t suppose he mentioned that? Why didn’t you call us yesterday after you’d spoken to him?”
“Whoa, slow down with all the questions,” Cynthia said as she pursed her lips and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not my concern when you leave here or with whom you leave.”
“Just as long as I leave, right?”
“You said it, not me.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
“Actually, no, he never mentioned it. I suppose this means he hasn’t shown up yet. I wonder what he’s waiting for.”
“Maybe he was just someone who lived around here and was just being nosy.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. I’ve certainly never seen him before, and he described you to a tee, then started asking all kinds of questions about how long you’d been here, if you stayed at the farm all day, that sort of thing.”
“And what did you tell him?” Kendall asked stupidly, knowing what the answer would be.
“I told him anything he wanted to know,” Cynthia replied with a look of satisfaction.
The screen door to the back porch banged shut as Casey walked down the steps and joined Cynthia and Kendall in the yard. “I thought I heard a car drive up. Hi, Cynthia. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been just fine,” Cynthia smiled and added, “I was just telling Kendall about the man who’s looking for her.”
“What did you say?” Casey asked, her mouth falling ajar in a look of astonishment.
Kendall relayed to Casey the conversation she’d had with Cynthia. As soon as Kendall had finished repeating the exchange, Casey took Kendall by the arm and began leading her toward the house as she called over her shoulder, “Nice to see you, Cynthia. We’ve got to go. Have a safe trip back home.”
“But wait,” Cynthia shouted after them. “I wanted to check with you about the barbecue on Saturday. You’re still having it, aren’t you? Five o’clock, right?”
Casey turned to look back at Cynthia and said hastily, “Oh, I’d forgotten. I don’t know. I’ll call you.”
Casey half-dragged, half-pushed Kendall into the house as Cynthia stood in the yard with a grin on her face, then got into her car and drove away.
Inside the house, Casey was beside herself with worry. Kendall bravely tried to allay Casey’s fears, but it was difficult to be convincing when Kendall herself was fearful of the prospect of a strange man showing up at their doorstep at any moment.
“All right, let’s calm down and think about what we’re going to do,” Casey said as she took a seat at the kitchen table and began nervously fingering the fringe on a placemat. “Tom and Jackson should be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll go get Jackson’s shotgun out of the closet. I think he’s got some shells around here somewhere.”
Kendall gasped. “Casey, I don’t think we have to do anything that drastic.”
“Look, some man shows up here looking for you, he’s not going to get past the front door. Even if he’s your husband. You’ve had memories of two men, both of whom seem to pose some sort of threat to you, in my opinion. One of them was even physically violent with you. I don’t intend to give him another chance at that. And why would anyone stop at Cynthia’s and ask all these questions about you and then not come right over here if he was just a family member innocently trying to locate you? What’s he planning? And what if it has something to do with all that missing money? I don’t like this one bit.”
Just then, there was loud knocking at the back screen door. Casey and Kendall both jumped. Casey went from her chair to the kitchen door in one swift movement and looked through the glass panes. “Oh, it’s just Tom and Jackson,” she assured Kendall as she left the kitchen and walked across the porch to unlatch the screen door.
“What are you doing with the screen door latched?” Jackson asked.
“There’s a man looking for Kendall and we’re not sure who he is,” Casey said, then began pacing about the kitchen. “Jackson, where do you keep the shotgun shells?”
“What are you talking about?” Jackson’s face held an expression of curiosity mixed with alarm. “What do you mean he’s looking for Kendall? Has someone been here? And why in the name of God do you need a shotgun?”
“I’m afraid Casey’s just overreacting,” Kendall said. She didn’t want the entire household put on red alert on her account. She was also worried that the whereabouts of this mysterious man was upsetting Casey, and that’s the last thing she wanted to happen. Kendall tried to keep her voice calm as she related the conversation she’d had with Cynthia. Jackson and Tom both listened quietly, then Jackson commanded Casey to stop pacing and to take a seat at the kitchen table with the rest of them. He sat back in his chair and looked from Casey to Kendall.
“Look, I don’t think there’s any reason to panic, but I also think there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be cautious,” Jackson spoke calmly. “I want the two of you to keep the doors locked at all times and do not answer it unless you know who’s there. I’ll stay close to the house from now on, just in case someone shows up.”
“I’ll be here, too,” Tom said.
“And no shotgun,” Jackson added. “I don’t think that’s necessary, at least not now.” He grinned at Casey. “I don’t want the neighbors getting their heads blown off should they decide to pay us a visit.”
“Oh, I
just remembered,” Casey said distractedly, “the party on Saturday. That’s the day after tomorrow. Maybe we should call it off.”
“No, Casey, please don’t do that,” Kendall implored. “You’ve put so much into planning it and I know how you’re looking forward to it.”
“There’s no reason to cancel the party,” Jackson insisted. “We’ll be able to keep a close eye on everyone, and the more people that are here, the less likely this stranger is to show up.”
“Well, I think the safest thing for everyone is for me to leave,” Kendall said emphatically. “Maybe I could take a room at the Rest Inn Motel until I’m able to make other plans. In fact, I’ll call right now and see what’s available.” Kendall rose from her chair and walked to the wall phone. As she picked up the receiver, she turned to look at Casey and smiled. “And don’t you worry. I’m sure he won’t come around here once I’ve left.”
“Kendall, no, you can’t do that,” Casey said in a beseeching tone.
“Sure I can, and I don’t mind one bit. It might even be kind of fun to stay at the motel for a while,” Kendall lied, then added with a laugh, “Just make sure you tell Cynthia I’ve left. That way everyone around here will know right away I’m not here anymore. Just don’t tell her where I’ve gone.” She then turned to Jackson with an apologetic look for her reference to Cynthia. “Oh, sorry, Jackson. I really didn’t mean anything by it.” Kendall turned and began dialing the information operator.
Jackson stood and walked over to Kendall, took the receiver from her hand and hung it in the cradle. “Please sit back down,” he said quietly.
His taking the phone receiver from her startled Kendall, but she recovered quickly and picked it back up. “Jackson, really, this is the smartest thing to do.”
Jackson once again took the phone from her, this time holding it while he stared at her. “Sit back down,” he repeated more firmly, then seeing the shocked look on her face, added, “please.”
Jones, Beverly R Page 17
