“Is that all you come to say? I gotta go in.”
“This is a nice house.” Thomas gazed above him. There were hooks lining the porch for plants. Someone here spent time growing things. He gambled that the person was Andre’s mother. “Your mother keeps it painted nicely. Is she the gardener?”
“No.”
“Someone here is.”
“You done talking?”
Thomas realized Andre was standing in front of him. “If you want me to be, I guess I am. But please, think about what I said. Garnet says you’re a smart kid. She believes in you. Don’t give her reason to question her own judgment.”
“I’m nothing to her. Just because she grew up on this street...”
Thomas was interested. “Did she?”
The front door banged in answer. Thomas sighed and moved away from the railing, starting toward the ramp. He stopped when he heard a whirring noise, then the murmur of voices inside.
“You’re late, Andre. I been waiting up for you.”
“You shouldn’t, Ma. I told you I’d be late.”
“Who were you talking to? That Demon Harris again?”
“No, Ma. Nobody you know. Now you got to get to bed. I’ll push you in.”
A wheelchair. The sound connected with an image in Thomas’s mind. A motorized wheelchair. Which explained the ramp. He wondered what kind of disability Andre’s mother had. He wondered how it had affected Andre. One thing was clear, even from the snippet of conversation he had just heard. There was love here.
And wherever love existed, there was hope.
Candy and Francis’s new apartment was luxury itself. There was a spacious, carpeted living room with tastefully upholstered furniture. There was a bedroom with a large double bed, and a small nook off it that was perfect for a nursery. The kitchen had all new appliances and a priceless view of Deering Hills out of the window over the sink.
Marcia Branthoover had explained to Garnet that her late husband had built the apartment just for something to do after his retirement. They’d planned to rent it so that someone would be on the premises when they traveled, but he had died soon after, and Marcia had never been that interested in traveling without him. Except for visits from her children and grandchildren, no one had ever stayed there.
Garnet had watched Francis and Candy wander through the three rooms, eyes like children’s at Christmastime. Garnet had seen the softening of Marcia’s prim expression, her evident interest in Matty—she’d raised four of her own, yes, she had, scattered all over the country now—her careful, tactful advice when Matty wouldn’t stop crying. Garnet knew a miracle had truly been wrought here. Four human beings who needed each other had somehow been brought together in this unlikely place.
By the ministry of one man who was completely out of place in the Corners.
Garnet had left Candy and Francis with a hundred dollars in cash from her own bank account and with Thomas’s check. She was sure they could manage until Francis got paid. Marcia had two cars—she had somehow never gotten around to selling her husband’s—and she was happy to let Francis drive one of them to work.
There were few days in Garnet’s memory that had turned out so well. The apartment in Deering Hills was only a partial solution to Candy and Francis’s problems, but it was a step in the right direction. One small family had beaten the odds, at least temporarily.
Now there were only thousands of others left for Garnet to work with.
She parked her car in the tiny lot behind the clinic. She was tired, and the muscles in her neck ached. She shut her eyes, tucked her chin and slowly turned her head from side to side. She could feel the tension easing. She envisioned the claw-footed tub in her apartment filled to the top with hot water. She had just enough bath oil left for one last soak. Tonight would be the night.
The splintering of glass thrust her into the present. Reflexively her arm rose to protect her face, and she tucked her head lower. Shards of glass rained in on her. As she tried to make sense of it, her door was jerked open and she was hauled out of the car.
“We told you, Garnet babe, you were supposed to stay away from Candy!”
Fear told her to keep her eyes closed. The sound of shattering glass still filled her ears. She was terrified that her eyes had been damaged. She fought off the hands hauling her across the lot, kicking ferociously but ineffectively at her tormentor.
Something crashed into her midriff, and her eyelids flew open. She saw a fist coming toward her, and she doubled over in pain. Another fist to her head slammed her eyes shut again. She flailed her arms to stop her attackers until someone grabbed them and forced them behind her. The blows were coming from different directions. Somewhere it registered that more than one person was responsible.
“Stop!” she screamed. She ducked to keep her face from being hit again and rammed her head into someone’s stomach. She felt a sharp blow against the back of her skull.
Then she felt nothing at all.
She awoke to the sound of sirens. She was immobilized. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t speak. There was something cool across her face. For a moment she panicked, afraid she couldn’t breathe. She found that she couldn’t open her eyes, either. Something seemed to be covering them. Then she felt the hand encasing hers.
“Easy.” The voice was familiar, although at first, in her panic, she couldn’t place it. “Easy, Garnet. You’re all right. You’re on your way to the hospital. Just take a deep breath. Good. Now take another. They’re giving you oxygen, just to make breathing a little easier. They put in an IV and strapped you down because they were afraid you’d pull it out.”
“I...I...”
“Don’t try to talk.”
“My.. .eyes.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. The paramedics think your eyes are fine. But there was some bleeding above them, and they found glass in one of the cuts. They just wanted to be sure your eyes are okay. And they’re waiting until they get to the hospital for that.”
She placed the voice. Some of the panic eased. “Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“The... dragon got me.”
“I told you not to talk. For once do what you’re told, okay?” His voice sounded thick, as if he was speaking with difficulty. His hand tightened around hers. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”
She heard him speaking to someone else, although the words seemed far away. Then he was speaking to her again.
“The paramedic says you’re bruised, and they’ll want to watch for internal damage. But your vital signs are all stable, which is good news. You probably have a concussion, and they’ll have to X-ray one arm and your ribs. Probably the arm you fell on after—”
“I...was beaten up.”
“Yes.”
The thickness was gone now. She heard steel in his voice. He was coldly furious. She knew him well enough already to detect that much. She could almost envision his face. No feelings would show. But they would be there, behind the remote expression that was such a part of him. She knew that about him. He cared too much. She hadn’t thought about it before, but now she understood. He cared too much.
The thought comforted her.
“How... long?”
“I found you right afterward. I drove by the clinic and I...” The pause went on so long, she knew he was hiding something.
“What?” she demanded.
“I heard someone shouting. I stopped. The girl who lives upstairs was shouting for help. Apparently she heard you scream when... you were attacked. She had already called for help.”
She could hear his voice near her ear. Everything was growing fuzzy. She concentrated on his words and the warmth of his hand. She didn’t want to lose consciousness again.
“The ambulance got there before the police. Whoever did this was gone by the time I arrived.”
“Your timing... stinks.”
He squeezed harder. “Was it the Knights?”
“I... I don’t know.”
&n
bsp; “You can’t stay in the Corners, Garnet. We both know who it was and why. You’re going to be all right this time, but what about next time?”
Intense. That was the word for Thomas. She had never met anyone so intense, so focused on what he believed in. She became aware of pain. It began to throb along her back, her abdomen, her arm. He had said she was going to be all right, and from what the paramedic had told Thomas, it seemed so. But what had Thomas said? What about next time?
“We won’t talk about it now.”
She heard his voice as if from far away. “I’m...not leaving home.”
“We’ll talk later.”
“No.”
“Save your strength.”
“I’m staying. I know... I’ll die there. I’ve always known.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re young. You don’t have to die for a long, long time!”
“It’s... inevitable.”
“Nothing’s inevitable. You can use your talents somewhere safer. But you’ve got to get out. These kids mean business! Who knows what they would have done tonight if someone hadn’t heard you scream?”
“I’ll... never leave. I couldn’t desert...”
“Garnet.” She felt his breath against her cheek. She knew his face was very near. “It wouldn’t be desertion. It would just be good sense. There are people everywhere who need help.”
“My people. I’m going home.”
She felt him sigh, heard it, saw it inside her mind.
“Garnet,” he said at last. “There is no home anymore. Whoever went after you lobbed a fire bomb inside your apartment.”
Her hand clenched spasmodically in his.
He continued. “Your neighbor smelled the smoke. She and a friend broke down your door and managed to get it under control with the hallway fire extinguisher until the firemen arrived. She was in your apartment when she heard you yell.”
“Was anyone else... ?”
“No one else was hurt. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but the girl... Serena? Serena said there wasn’t much left.”
“The clinic?”
“I don’t know. Damage, I’m sure, but hopefully nothing that can’t be repaired.”
“We’ll be back in business by next week. I’ll...make sure of it.”
“What can I say to you?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No, of course—”
“I put Andre on the defensive. I ruined your negotiations with him.”
“Not your fault.”
“You have to leave.”
“I will never leave.”
“Then you’re going to need protection. You can’t live alone anymore. You won’t be any good to anybody if you’re attacked again.”
“I wouldn’t put friends in danger.”
There was silence. She drifted on the waves of pain that seemed to toss higher and higher. What if she had broken an arm? What if her eyesight was damaged? How much help would she be to anyone? Long ago she had made a commitment to herself and to her community. She would stay in the Corners, although there were better, safer places to go. She would stay, and she would do what she could. She would never, never run. And in the end, if the Corners took her life, that was the way she would die. But she would not live or die on the run.
There were some things worse than dying.
“Garnet.”
She felt Thomas’s hand tighten around hers. Somehow it eased her pain. Tears formed under her eyelids.
“Isn’t there a man in your life?” he asked.
“A man? I haven’t met a man in years.”
“Then you’ll have to live with me,” he said.
The words were so gentle, so compassionate, that for a moment she thought it wasn’t Thomas voice. “Thomas?”
“You can live with me,” he said.
This time she was certain who it was. “Live...with a preacher?” She wanted to force a laugh, but she knew what a bad idea that would be. Every inch of her diaphragm throbbed unceasingly. “What.. .would your congregation think?”
“We’ll have to get married.”
She was drifting again. She had to concentrate harder. Surely she hadn’t heard him right.
“We want the same things,” he said. “And I’m willing to go to hell and back to make sure we both get them. I made things worse for you, but I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again. You don’t have to be a martyr. Live with me. We’ll watch out for each other. It would be better if you just got out of here, but since you won’t...”
“Marry you? Are you crazy?”
“Come live with me. The marriage part will be for show. It’ll make it clear to everyone that you’re not vulnerable anymore.”
“Marriage... for show.”
“It will buy you time. And you don’t have to pay me back. Not in any way.”
She was still drifting. There were colors swirling in her head. Colors and shapes. And words. Marriage. Buy you time. Pay me back. No. Don’t have to pay me back.
If she stayed in the Corners, the MidKnights could very well come back to finish what they’d started. This beating had been a warning. If it hadn’t been, they would have shot her and been done with it.
The dragon had breathed his fiery breath in warning.
But warnings came with consequences if they weren’t obeyed. She wasn’t going to obey. Thomas was willing to help her buy time.
Time. She had so little. She’d always known that. She had seen too many tragedies, too much sadness. The rest of her life wouldn’t be any different.
Thomas wouldn’t be in danger if he helped her—at least, no more danger than he was in already. The MidKnights had threatened him, too. Thomas had said that he and she could watch out for each other.
“Marriage,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it now,” he said. His breath caressed her cheek. “Just think about getting well.”
“I never.. .wanted to get married.”
“Hush now.”
She felt the ambulance slowing down. She drifted, then was jerked back to consciousness when she felt Thomas’s hand slipping from hers. “Thomas?”
“It’s all right. I’m still here.”
“Not a real marriage?”
“Don’t worry about it now, Garnet.”
“I’ll do it. I want... time.”
She felt his hand tighten around hers. “That’s all I can give you.”
“It will be enough.”
5
When was a marriage not a marriage?
Garnet gazed around the bedroom that Thomas had given her to use. His apartment had only one, and this room had been his until today. Now he had evenly divided the closet and dresser drawers and turned his bed over to her. There was a sofa bed in the living room where he would sleep.
She sat on the bed and gingerly leaned back on her elbows. Pain still came and went, striking at odd times and in a variety of places. The MidKnights had worked her over good, but pain was the most lasting effect. A cracked rib, a concussion and a multitude of cuts and bruises weren’t much, considering the kind of ruthless beating she had undergone.
She stretched a little to relieve the pressure on her ribs. Sitting was still uncomfortable, but she tired easily if she stood too long. Serena and Thomas had helped her pack what remained of her belongings, but even that effort had been too much.
She could see Thomas moving back and forth in the living room. Pacing. Like a lion in a cage.
She was sure he regretted his hasty offer of marriage. She regretted accepting it. At her most vulnerable moment, marrying Thomas had seemed like the answer to a prayer she hadn’t found time to pray. It would give her time to continue her work here.
Strangely, Thomas seemed to have an impenetrable shield that surrounded him. His accomplishments in the Corners were small, but they were accomplishments. No one had interfered with his plans. No one had interfered with him, not even after he had openly defied the M
idKnights. If the shield extended to her, so much the better. If it didn’t, then they were two poor souls fighting the dragon together. Surely that improved their odds to almost one in a million.
She had been at her most vulnerable when he made his proposal. By the time she'd started to heal and Thomas had appeared at her hospital bedside with a minister colleague, her regrets had been legion. She was marrying a stranger. What did she know about Thomas Stonehill? Certainly she could step out of the marriage at any time, and would when it was convenient for both of them, but what problems was she creating in the meantime? Thomas had assured her that this would be a marriage in name only. But what did that mean other than the fact that they obviously weren’t going to share a bed? What damage could they inflict on each other before the “I dos” changed to “I don’ts?”
And not that it mattered, but why didn’t he want to share a bed?
Garnet lay back and stared at the ceiling. The plaster was cracked, and the paint was a hundred years old. Apparently the church downstairs had received all of Thomas’s attention. The whole apartment reeked of neglect. The living room had fresh white paint because the children used it on Sunday morning for their classes. But she guessed that nothing else had been done. The furniture was worn, but salvageable if someone cared enough. The apartment had interesting nooks and crannies, if someone just noticed them and spotlighted their charms. But there was nothing here that indicated anyone had noticed anything. There were no pictures on the walls, no vases, no curtains, no pillows…. The list went on and on.
There was only one adornment, if it could be called that. Across the room, on an old side table, there was a framed photograph of a woman. Thomas’s wife.
Garnet reminded herself that she was Thomas’s wife now. Somehow she hadn’t been able to form her objections in time. Thomas had appeared with the minister, and half the hospital staff, some sentimentally teary-eyed, had come to witness the grand event. Garnet’s room had looked like a train station at rush hour. And suddenly she was on board, speeding to a foreign destination as the stranger to whom she was being married slipped a thin gold band on her finger.
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