Reggie’s grin was characteristically large. “Well?”
Cal shrugged. “It’s not really my style, Reg. Nothing personal.” Reggie fired the engine. “That’s practically the same thing I said the first time Brother Lucas asked me along.”
“Yeah?”
“Took me two years to go back.” He swung the truck into the street.
“Why did you?”
“Well, things got a little rough. I needed some serious power. Sunday religion wasn’t enough to cover what was coming down.”
Cal stared at him. “What was coming down?”
“When Suanne was three months pregnant, they found a malignancy. Uterine.”
Cal winced.
“Yeah. Trouble was, they couldn’t treat the cancer without losing the baby. She said no go. She wouldn’t sacrifice the child.”
“What happened?”
“I joined up with those people back there, and we begged God for a miracle.”
“And?”
“The baby miscarried, and Suanne got treated. Full hysterectomy. She won’t be having any more.”
Cal shook his head. “And that made you keep going back?”
“It’s not what happened to the situation.” Reggie patted his chest. “It’s what happened here.”
Cal sensed what he meant. He’d felt it when Reggie started singing, he’d seen it on Brother Lucas’s face. It made him want to run for the woods.
“Now, I could either gripe about us not ever having kids, or rejoice that Suanne was healed of the cancer. Things either make you better or make you worse.”
No denying that.
“Having that group, and coming to know God personally, made me see the good side.”
Cal nodded. Reggie had talked before about knowing God, talked like Jesus was his friend. Cal knew the jargon, had even sung the song in Bible school one year: Jesus is your friend, He’s the one next to you …
“That group of people meets Wednesday and Saturday nights in prayer and thanksgiving, and I tell you what, they storm the gates of heaven. You might not have noticed tonight, but when your eyes are opened, then you’ll see.”
Cal glanced his way. Reggie wasn’t shy in pointing out Cal’s lacks.
“But you gotta know that prayer meeting’s not the only place to find God. The Big Man doesn’t limit himself to our smallness. If you got roots, start there.”
Cal didn’t answer. Roots. Did he have roots? Sure, but his roots connected him to the ground, to his home, to himself. His folks had been believers, but once he got old enough to resist, they hadn’t made it an issue with him. They’d let him choose, and he’d done what any normal American youth would, given the freedom. Nothing.
Reggie pulled into the drive, and Annie came running, leaping for the car door.
She was as good an excuse as any to beat a hasty retreat, but Cal hesitated. “Look, Reggie, why did you ask me there tonight?”
“Like I said, I had a word. I don’t ask why.”
“Well, what reason would your experience tell you?”
Reggie rested his hands on the steering wheel and turned his head. His face was soft and serious. “That you’re heading for tribulation, my man.”
Cal shook his head. “Wish I hadn’t asked.” He pulled open the door and got out, more annoyed than he ought to be. Annie danced about. “Thanks, I guess.” He waved, then headed for the stairs. Tribulation. As though he wasn’t there already?
Inside he rubbed Annie down, then picked up the phone and called Rita James at home. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What did you think of Laurie?”
“Don’t set a woman up unless you’re ready to be weighed in the same balance.”
He could hear the stern exasperation in her voice. “Okay, so you held my tail to the fire. What did you learn?”
“If you want to know about Laurie, ask Laurie.”
“She won’t talk about it.” He switched the receiver to his other ear.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” He picked up a bread crust and tossed it to Annie.
“Talk about your problems.”
Cal half laughed. “That’s all I did for two months.”
“I mean to Laurie.” Rita’s tone was indomitable.
“That’s not what we’re discussing.” This was reminiscent of all the conversations he’d had with Laurie lately. How did they all get turned back on him?
“You have your defenses; she has hers.”
Cal straddled a chair. “So she’s hiding something?”
Rita laughed. “You’re not going to catch me up, Cal. You’re smart, but not that smart.”
“Come on, Rita. If Laurie’s in trouble—”
“Then she has the right to choose her own help, her own way of dealing with it.”
Cal leaned against the wall, his exasperation growing. “Will you talk to her?”
“She hasn’t asked me.”
Cal slammed his palm on his thigh. “What about all those days I didn’t want to talk?”
“That was different.”
“How?” he snapped.
“You were a patient.”
Cal swallowed the tightening in his throat. “I hate that word.” He hung up.
Whistling for Annie, he stalked out to the woods. The night was deep and under the trees, deeper. And it was cold. Damp cold. The drizzle had stopped, but his breath came white and chilled his face as he walked. Pressing his way through the brush, he made out the lights of Fred’s farmhouse, then turned south. There were parts of these woods even he didn’t know. He struck out for new ground, wanting to put his mind on something else, someone else. The darkness took form around him.
Annie perked up her ears, looking to the right. He’d heard the snap, too, but she dropped her head and continued prancing at his side. Her leg troubled her only when they went too far, too fast, as they were in danger of doing tonight in his current mood. He was sweating inside his light jacket, not a good sign. If the shakes started, he’d begin to crave the bottle.
Then he thought of the old drunk lying in the street and shook his head. Maybe that sight would keep him from the slide. Frank’s Southern Comfort had not made him want more, had not even satisfied. It wasn’t a drink he wanted. It was … what? To stop feeling so hollow?
“It’s what happened here—” and Reggie’s hand on his heart. Was Cal missing something big, something crucial to his makeup? Did he need God to change his focus, put together the pieces he kept trying to fix? Rita didn’t think so. She said he had it inside him to get over it all. Let go of the guilt. Reggie said let go and let God. Cal didn’t know how to do either.
Changing direction again, he pressed through a stand of birch and dropped to the bottom of a gully. This he followed east until he heard Kriley Creek at an intersecting cut. Its song was clear yet subdued as it ran unconcerned toward Miller Pond. May as well follow the creek back home. Annie would be tiring. He reached a hand to her head and got a cold, wet nose in his palm.
After another tramp, he left the creek and passed through the last of the woods to Mildred’s yard, the house, shed, and vehicles ghostly lumps in the darkness. Annie’s ears perked, no doubt sensing home and hoping for a treat. She nudged his hand, then paused, staring into the yard. Cal kept on. If she smelled a varmint and wanted some fun, he only hoped she wouldn’t wake Mildred.
He passed the shed and jerked his head at a motion beside him. A dark form separated from the shadow and knocked him sprawling with something hard between the shoulder blades. Annie bayed, dodging in and out, teeth bared, as the man-shaped silhouette raised a bat. Cal glimpsed the head covered in a ski mask, then rolled, catching the blow in his shoulder. He cried out as his arm went numb for a second, then screamed pain down to his fingers. He was too slow to avoid the next swing, which caught him just below the last one.
“Keep away from Laurie, jerk.” The man raised the bat again, but Annie took his leg between her teeth. Bellowi
ng, he kicked her free, then ran behind the shed and into the darkness.
Cal dragged himself to his knees, cradling the injured arm with his other. Annie whined, licked his face, and nudged him with her nose. “Thank you, girl.” He felt her for injury, but apart from shaking, she seemed fine. “Guess you can tell when it’s the real thing.” He worked himself to his feet, wincing.
13
FOR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE? IT IS EVEN A
VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME,
AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY.
James 4:14 KJV
CAL STEPPED GINGERLY TOWARD THE HOUSE, careful not to stumble or trip. A sound caught him up short, and he tensed. He was pretty worthless with his right arm out of commission, but he wouldn’t be taken by surprise again. He reached the outside stairs just as a light blared on and Mildred pulled open the door, shotgun primed.
“It’s me, Mildred!”
“What’s all the noise? You’re staggering like a drunk.”
Even sober. And Mildred didn’t mince her words.
“I met with a bat.”
“What kind?”
“The baseball kind.”
She lowered the gun. “You can’t stay away from trouble to save your life.”
“I didn’t look for it. It found me.”
He yelled when she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.
“Where’s the damage?”
“About where you’re gripping.”
Cissy shuffled up, gasping when Mildred pulled his shirt open to reveal the purple welts and swelling joint. “Oh my.” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my.”
Mildred scowled. “Get an ice pack, Cissy, and stop ‘oh my-ing.’ It’s probably not as bad as it looks.”
“It’s as bad as it feels.” He submitted to Mildred’s inspection and probing.
Cissy rushed back with a blue plastic bag. He jumped when Mildred applied it.
“It’s a gel pack. Doc Klein gave it to me for my knee when it swells.” She shifted the pack on his shoulder.
“I’ll take it from here, Mildred.” He stood up, holding the pack in place.
“Did you get a look at him?” Mildred eased the shirt over the ice.
“He was masked.”
“Figures.” Mildred looked like that was his fault. “Likely took you for a prowler out tramping the woods in the dark.”
Cal knew better. Only one person would warn him off of Laurie. “Thanks for the ice.”
“You better have that looked at.”
He nodded and Annie jumped up. “Come on, girl.”
“Who would want to hurt him?” Cissy whispered as Cal climbed the inside stairs. He didn’t hear Mildred’s words, but he could imagine her reply.
He sank onto his bed, still holding the ice in place. It did little to alleviate the pain, but if it kept the swelling down, the healing would go better. What was going on? If he hadn’t been so riled by his conversation with Rita, he might have paid better attention. Then again, he might not have. He wasn’t used to looking over his shoulder. Was Laurie? If so, she hadn’t admitted it. She’d been single-mindedly evasive. Was he a pawn in some game she played with her senator’s-son ex-husband? Or was she in more trouble than he knew?
He considered the facts. One, the black Firebird running him off the road after seeing her broken window. Two, the phone call after Laurie’s trip to the station. And now strike three. Was it her presence at the poker game last night? Had someone watched them? Out in the sticks he didn’t worry too much about closing the curtains. And he had come on to Laurie, though it hadn’t been his intention. Brian would have caught an eyeful in those moments after the others left. It wouldn’t be the first time a man harassed his ex-wife when she tried to get close to someone new.
Cal gingerly moved his shoulder. Was his attacker Laurie’s exhusband? If so, did he have some histor y of aber rant behavior? Domestic violence? Was that what Laurie wouldn’t talk about? That, too, was common enough, and Laurie was just the sort to fall into it. Well, there was only one place to learn the truth.
Throwing on his coat, he went down to the jeep and slid in. With his left hand, he put it in gear and spun the wheel. For some reason he saw Reggie’s face in his mind. Tribulation. Maybe the Big Man knew what was going down, but Cal could only guess.
It took Laurie forever to come to the door. Cal noted the new dead bolt as he stood there, shoulder throbbing. It was both reassuring and troubling. She’d taken measures to protect herself, and that was good. But why had she needed to?
“Who is it?” Her voice sounded shaky.
“Cal.”
The lock slid, and the door opened. Cal looked into Laurie’s face. Fear and relief mingled there, and Cal’s heart thumped when he glimpsed the butt of a handgun in her robe pocket. She was in trouble. He knew it with every fiber. And whether she liked it or not, he was going to get her out of it.
She crossed her arms against her chest. “Cal, what are you doing here? It’s eleven-thirty.”
He pushed past her and checked the doors at the back of the house. She’d added keyed dead bolts there, too. He caught her arm as he passed back and pulled her along with him. “We need to talk.” He stopped at the faded sleeper couch and sat on the top edge, then peeled back his coat and shirt and bared his shoulder.
She gasped. “What happened?”
“My guess is Brian doesn’t want me seeing you.”
She stared. “That’s crazy.”
“Someone came at me with a baseball bat.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” She was evading. It was there in her eyes and the tone of her voice. “Ball players aren’t the only ones who wield bats.”
“He had a major-league swing.”
She closed her eyes.
“He told me to keep away from you, Laurie.”
She shook her head.
Cal grabbed her arms, wincing with the motion. “I want to help.” Pulling her close with his one good arm, he kissed her mouth, kissed her hard and long. Not his intention again, but she melted against him, shaking. She had to let him in, trust him enough to tell the truth, to let him help. He kissed her again, slowly, then cupped her cheek in his hand. “I love you, Laurie. I always have.”
He wasn’t sure what answer he expected, but not what he got. “Well, don’t.” She pushed him away.
“Yeah, right.” Not loving her was like never drawing oxygen again.
“I mean it, Cal. Go now, and don’t come back.” Her voice shook.
Why was she pushing him away? Did she think he couldn’t handle it? That he’d freak out and fall apart? He’d never felt so strong and determined. Nothing would scare him off, no attacks in the night, no accusing phone calls. “Does Brian own a black Firebird?” Shaking her head, Laurie stalked to the wall and back, the tension defining her features sharply. His airbrushed image of her wavered. There was something hard inside. He didn’t care. He’d break through that too. “Who did you expect at the door tonight? Why do you have a gun?”
“Stop it, Cal.”
Stop trying to protect the woman he loved? Stop trying to show her she wasn’t alone, that together they’d make it right? “Laurie, I know you’re in trouble.”
She turned on him. “Just stay away from me, okay?” She pulled the coat back over his shoulder and pushed him toward the door.
“Is he abusive? Does he hit you? Is that why you left?”
“No.” She reached for the knob.
With his left arm, he held the door shut. “Why won’t you let me help?”
“Because you can’t.” She pressed back into the wall, looking trapped and frightened. As much an admission as he was likely to get. Was it pride? Did she think he’d judge her? Didn’t she know that wasn’t his way?
He cornered her with his arms. “That’s why you came back here. To let me help.”
“I was wrong.” A vein stood out in her temple.
“If your ex—”
“He’s not my ex.”
Cal stood still. He met her eyes and saw there shame and fear and confusion. “What?”
“We’re not divorced.”
“But you said …”
She ducked under his arm and stepped away. “I never said it. You just assumed.”
Cal’s blood rushed. “You never said otherwise. You let me think—” He clenched his hands. She’d led him on, not in words, but she’d known how he would be, and she’d allowed it. Encouraged it. Why? To make her husband jealous? “No wonder he came for me with a bat! I’d have done the same in his place!”
Tears started in her eyes, but it didn’t move him. He’d pursued, kissed, and held another man’s wife? He’d held illusions of them together, working out their differences, caring and sharing love until death did them part. She had used him. Just as Rob said. She had come back and made a fool of him. After all, fool was only one step away from clown.
Well, he’d wanted the truth and gotten it. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. What he’d said was true also. He loved her with the same mind-numbing grip he’d felt the first time he saw her. And it still didn’t matter. He yanked open the door and left.
Driving home, he kept his eyes peeled for any motion, any vehicle, anything out of the ordinary. He was as pressurized as a discharge port ready to blow. But now he knew that if Brian came after him, he’d be justified. Laurie was still his wife.
Laurie pressed her back to the door, shaking. The terror she’d felt, wakening to the banging on her door, her rush to the kitchen for the gun. Then seeing Cal wounded … it was all she could do not to scream. But the children, her children were upstairs sleeping, safe, oblivious, and she had to keep them that way.
What other choice did she have? A man with a bat? A majorleague swing? She pressed her hand to her eyes. Would Brian go after Cal? Why? To keep her unprotected? No cops, he’d said. Cal wasn’t a cop. But she had looked to him for help, for safety.
Why wouldn’t Brian just confront her face-to-face? What was this terror game? And now she had lost Cal. Of course he was furious. She’d known he would be. She had done that herself, keeping the truth from him at the start. Why hadn’t she told him everything? Before old feelings had gotten in the way, before he was injured.
Twilight Page 19
