by Connie Mann
“You were a child, and you obeyed what your mother asked. There is no fault in that. If you hadn’t hid like she told you, that terrible man would have taken you away. You know this. And I fear to think what your life would have been like.”
Mama reached out and cupped Eve’s cheeks. “It is time to set down that burden. You can never bring your mother back, but it is time to let go of the guilt. It’s false. You are taking on the responsibility for keeping your mother alive, and that job belongs to God alone.”
Tears she hadn’t been aware of streamed down Eve’s cheeks, and she swiped them away with angry hands. “He didn’t do a very good job that day.”
“We will never understand why some live long lives and others don’t. But I know that there is always a bigger picture, and that included God sending you to us. I have no doubt He sent you here, Eve. Else how would a city girl like you have found herself in a little town like Safe Harbor? We needed you in our family, Evie. We still do.”
Mama paused, sat back as some of the energy appeared to drain out of her. “If you need to go back to DC, then you must go. But be sure you are going for the right reasons and not simply running away. Or because of misplaced guilt. Cole is a good man. He’s steady and dependable. A nice balance for your fire.”
Eve thought of the way he’d kissed her and realized he had his own fire; it was just more carefully banked. “I need to go, Mama. I love you. Get some rest, despite Pop’s snoring.”
Mama kissed her cheek. “Follow your heart, Evie. It will not lead you wrong this time.”
Eve kissed her back and headed to her car. It still wasn’t dark, so she drove into town and bought a new camera. Not as fancy as her other one, but it would do. Then she walked the short length of Main Street and back, trying to picture living here forever. Beatrice stepped out of the salon and asked about Glory. Someone waved and she waved back.
She wandered through Annie’s Attic and browsed the jumble of old and new that was gathered here. She exchanged pleasantries with the elderly part-time clerk, who said she appreciated Eve’s gumption in trying to help little Glory. It was just a simple day in a small town.
And yet, someone from this town had poisoned Glory and threatened Mama. Eve glanced around, feeling both settled and anxious at once. She got back into her car and headed toward the Blackwell place, hoping she’d finally find the answers she needed.
Chapter 30
Eve drove out past Blackwell Farms, one eye on the sketch Buzz had drawn for her. She found the dirt road partially hidden behind overgrown bushes, just like he’d said, and turned down it. The old lean-to he’d mentioned was also right there, so she drove into it and parked the car. This road didn’t look well traveled, and even if people did come by this way, they wouldn’t be able to see her car.
Darkness wouldn’t be for a while yet, so Eve rolled down the windows and pulled out her phone, glad Hector had found it near the barn. She grabbed a notepad from her purse and started yet another list. When things weren’t clear, nothing helped like some freewriting: simply jotting down all the random thoughts and puzzle pieces rattling around in her mind. Once she had it all on paper, she started looking at what she had, trying to make connections, looking for patterns.
But as the darkness deepened and she couldn’t see her notes anymore, Eve’s frustration grew. She was still missing something. Something important, but she had no idea what it was.
She mentally shifted gears, hoping that would let her subconscious keep working on patterns while she did something else. She scrolled through her photos and pulled up the ones she’d taken at the library. She grinned at her nerdy younger self and at how much everyone else had changed. Even Leon, whose face had lots more lines than before.
When no clue jumped out, she leaned her head back and let her mind drift. She had learned patience over the years, mainly when she was on a stakeout. She sat and listened to the night sounds outside the window, the whiff of earth and manure that drifted by on the breeze.
By nine thirty, she figured she’d waited long enough. She turned the ringer off on her cell phone and put it into her back pocket, then tucked her hair under a ball cap and grabbed her camera. She took her time, slowly easing her way over behind the sheds that Buzz had mentioned. Once there, she peeked out around the corner, but didn’t see anyone.
Which she’d learned didn’t necessarily mean a thing.
She leaned against the side of the building and watched. And waited. And waited some more.
As she did, Mama Rosa’s words circled round and round in her head. Especially the part about keeping her mother alive not being Eve’s job, but God’s. She’d never thought about it quite that way and instantly rebelled at the idea, because wasn’t it our job to protect and care for those we loved? Wasn’t that why she was here? To help take care of Mama?
And yet, she knew—though she hated the reality with every fiber of her being—that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to cure Mama’s cancer. Only God could do that.
So was it possible that the same thinking could apply to her mother’s long-ago death?
Eve wasn’t sure, but suddenly, the idea held an appeal that drew her like a magnet. Was it possible it really wasn’t her fault?
Before she could fully wrap her mind around the idea, she heard an approaching vehicle. A white pickup with the Blackwell Farms logo on the side pulled up near one of the sheds, and two men got out.
Excitement shimmered over Eve’s skin as she saw the barrels lining the truck bed. The men lowered the tailgate, removed a handcart, and started unloading the barrels. She eased her camera into position, made sure the flash was turned off, and began taking photos.
They put each barrel on the handcart and took it to a spot just out of her line of sight, then came back and got another one.
If they were merely storing the barrels in a shed, they weren’t doing anything wrong and this had been a colossal waste of time. But if they were burying the barrels . . . that was, as Pop would say, another kettle of fish entirely.
Eve eased back around the side of the shed and worked her way over to another one, which gave her the perfect vantage point to see what they were doing.
And hot diggity, they were burying the barrels, all right. That lousy liar, Eve thought, snapping pictures. Getting Avery Ames to take pictures of his eco-friendly practices for the Gazette—and now here he was, burying . . . something.
She zoomed in as far as she could, but she still couldn’t make out the labels on the sides of the barrels. She had to get closer.
Just as she stepped forward, something hit her from behind.
The world went black.
Chapter 31
Eve came to in a total panic as water closed over her head. Heart pounding, she remembered to quickly close her mouth, but when she tried to use her arms, she realized they were tied behind her back. She opened her eyes, but couldn’t see much in the murky water.
She felt herself sinking and tried to kick with her feet, but they were tied, too.
Oh, dear Jesus. Don’t let me drown.
First, hands. She pulled her legs up to her chest and managed to get her hands around and up in front of her. When she tugged on the bindings, they came loose, so whoever had done this hadn’t expected her to wake up.
She reached for the rope tying her feet, and the same thing happened. It didn’t take much effort at all to free her feet. She touched the murky bottom and sank down into it up to her ankles. With it that spongy, it wouldn’t provide much help, but she had to try. She pushed off with all the energy she could muster, and using her arms and legs, she finally burst to the surface, gasping for air.
Thank you, God.
She spun in a circle, trying to figure out where she was. Too small to be a lake, so a pond. But where?
The night sky was clear, the moon bright. Once her eyes adjusted, she knew she was on a farm, based on the shape of what appeared to be a barn in the distance.
Splas
h.
From the corner of her eye she saw something dark slip into the water, and her earlier panic seemed like nothing compared to the terror that pounded through her like a freight train.
Alligator!
Eve lunged for the banks, scrambling to get a foothold in the soft mud. She grabbed handfuls of grass, desperate to pull herself up, but she still kept slipping and sliding, not making any headway.
Please, please, please, God.
Water dripped in her eyes as she struggled to find purchase. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the gator preparing to lunge up out of the water, mouth open, rows of teeth clearly visible.
She heaved herself up once more, and this time—Thank you, God—her feet found grass instead of mud, and she landed on her stomach several feet away. She lurched to her feet and took off running, even as a voice in her head reminded her that alligators could run faster than humans on land.
She looked around as she sprinted away, trying to find a tree, truck, anything she could climb up on to escape the huge animal. He was big, and on her tail, and if she didn’t get off the ground quick, she was facing a death much worse than a mere drowning.
She glanced off to her right and almost stumbled in her relief. There. A huge live oak loomed not too far away, the strands of Spanish moss that draped its branches glistening like beacons in the moonlight. She could climb up into the branches.
She veered sharply in that direction and risked a glance back at the gator. He hadn’t skipped a beat and was still right on her tail.
Dear Jesus, help me. Please.
Eve reached the tree, panting and desperate, searching for a way to climb. But her heart sank as she looked up. The tree was huge, its lowest branches much farther off the ground than they had looked from a distance. Eve ran around the tree, the alligator right behind her, desperate tears mixing with sweat and water running down her face.
Renewed terror gripped her as she realized there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t get up into the tree. There was nothing anywhere out here she could climb into or hide in. The sheds were probably all locked, and she didn’t have the strength to run all the way back that way, even if they were open.
At that moment, Eve almost gave up. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air, and despair slapped her, hard. She was going to die. Right here. Right now. With this crazed alligator looking for his next meal.
I’m sorry, Mama. Be happy, Cole.
Just as the thoughts slipped through her mind, Eve rejected them. No! This was not how this was going to end. She wasn’t giving up without a fight. There had to be a way, and she wouldn’t give up until she found it.
She made another circle around the tree, wider this time, and as she glanced back to check the gator’s position, she tripped over something and went sprawling on the ground.
She rolled and leaped back up onto her feet, then checked to see what had tripped her. A branch! Yes!
She spun around, and her heart leaped when she realized it had fallen from the tree and broken into several pieces. She grabbed one, but it fell apart in her hands. Rotted through. She grabbed another branch; this one still had leaves, so she knew it wasn’t dead.
She yanked the leaves off, then turned and faced the gator, holding the branch like a club. Jesus, help me!
The things she’d learned years ago popped back into her head, and she smacked the gator with the branch. When he turned his head away, annoyed, she moved in closer and pounded the end of the branch on the top of his head.
He whipped his head away and lunged again. Eve prayed her timing was right, and just as he came at her again, mouth open, she shoved the branch in his jaw, straight up, using it like a wedge and hoping it was enough to keep that jaw from closing.
Did it work? He whipped his head from side to side, trying to dislodge the branch, but it held.
Eve didn’t know how long it would, though, and she wasn’t hanging around to find out, so she took off running again, back toward the sheds and hopefully all the way to her car.
Her only thought was to get away.
But as she kept running, she felt the adrenaline that had propelled her start to slip away. No, she had to keep going. But telling herself that and doing it proved to be two different things. Her steps slowed, and her breathing got more and more labored. Her lungs burned with every desperate breath, and the pain in the back of her head suddenly started pounding like a jackhammer.
Almost afraid to look, she risked a glance over her shoulder, but thankfully there was no sign of the gator.
Her steps slowed to a jog, then she stumbled to a walk, and finally she stopped moving altogether. She swayed on her feet, trying to steady herself. She had to get out of here. Whoever tied her up and smacked her in the head could still be around, watching.
She took several more steps, but she had nothing left. Her strength had all been drained out of her, and her reserves were empty. With tears of frustration streaming down her cheeks, she slid to the ground.
She lay there a minute, gasping for air, gathering her strength to get up. She tried, but fell back down. She wasn’t giving up, doggone it. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up onto all fours. She could do this. She had to.
“You really don’t give up, do you?” a male voice asked.
Eve looked over her shoulder and froze when she saw Leon standing there. At first she thought he’d come to help, but then his words sank in, and all those puzzle pieces fell into place. All but one. “Why?” she croaked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was angry, but sad, too.
Before she realized what he planned, his arm came around her neck, and Eve felt the blackness steal over her again.
Cole.
Chapter 32
Cole dialed Eve’s cell phone for the sixth—or was it seventh?—time. “Come on, Eve. Pick up.” He’d been a jerk, and he knew it. She deserved better than the way he’d treated her, and he intended to tell her so. To grovel if necessary. If she wanted to leave, he couldn’t stop her, but he could sure as shootin’ be a gentleman about it.
When her recorded voice instructed him yet again to leave a message, he said, “Eve. Call me. Please. If nothing else, just let me know you’re OK.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”
Then he hung up and wandered out to the paddock. He pulled his harmonica out of his shirt pocket and started playing “Amazing Grace,” since it reminded him of the night he’d played it for her.
After riding for several hours, he’d finally admitted that this was home. His home. Every pasture and paddock no longer reminded him of his father, but of the future. It was a good place, with good people on it. People like Hector, who’d been more of a father to him than Hank had ever been.
He still didn’t completely understand his mother’s need to leave the ranch, but then again, maybe he did. This place had defined her whole life, and much of that had been with Hank. He could understand needing to make a fresh start.
He’d thought his was in Montana, but now he knew it was here. He’d have to call his Realtor and put the place back on the market.
He heard footsteps behind him and looked around to see Buzz approaching. The older man strode toward him like a man on a mission, and Cole braced for whatever lecture he wanted to deliver this time.
“Evening,” he said.
Buzz nodded and leaned on the railing beside him. “Nice night.”
Cole waited, knowing he’d come out here to discuss more than just the weather.
Finally Buzz said, “Eve came to see me.”
That was a surprise. “What did she want?”
“She said I should get off my high horse and help you out here, instead of working against you.”
Cole hid a smile, picturing that conversation. “She does speak her mind.”
Buzz looked away, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, then looked directly at Cole. “She was right.” When Cole started to protest, he held up a hand. “Let me finish. Hank was my friend, but
I wasn’t blind to his faults. I’ve always felt he was too hard on you, and he didn’t treat your mother the way he should have.”
“Did you ever tell him that?” Would it have made a difference if he had?
“I did. Once. The day he kicked you out. I told him he was making the biggest mistake of his life and he’d live to regret it.” He sighed. “I think he realized that, too, but by then you’d joined the military, and it was too late.”
“Not to make things right with Ma.”
“Hank was a prideful man, Cole. I’m not sure he knew how to behave any other way.”
“He was a stubborn, mean son of a gun who didn’t treat his family right.”
“I won’t argue that. But I know, in his own way, he loved you and your mother. He just didn’t know how to show it.”
Cole thought of all the times his father had shown what he thought of him with his fists or his belt. Finally Cole looked over at Buzz and said, “You may be right.”
“He always hoped you’d come back,” Buzz admitted.
Shock rippled through Cole, then the familiar anger, but it wasn’t like it had been before. He took a deep breath and realized that somehow, since he’d come back . . . he’d stopped being angry. Or more accurately, since he’d met Eve and seen her courage and determination to keep trying, keep fighting the good fight, keep moving forward, he’d gradually begun letting the past go. His father was gone, and he’d never tell Cole he loved him or that he was proud of him. And for the first time, Cole realized he didn’t need that anymore.
He supposed Hank had had his own regrets, just like Cole. He’d never be able to apologize to Candy for his callous dismissal when she’d told him she was pregnant. Since she knew he hadn’t been the father, she’d clearly been protecting someone. He hadn’t known who, and he surely hadn’t taken the time to figure out why. He’d just said he wouldn’t marry her, not without proof. She’d driven off in tears and crashed her car, then Hank kicked him out, and he’d never found out the truth.
