The Clover Chapel

by Devney Perry

  At the word “home,” I closed my eyes and grimaced. How was I ever going to walk into my house again?

  Nick saw the wince and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “Tomorrow should be fine,” Dr. Peterson said. “Call if the pain gets worse, Emmeline.”

  “How are you doing?” Nick asked after the doctor left.

  “It’s been a busy morning. I’m getting tired.”

  “Jess needs to come over and get your statement. He said he would bring us some lunch. How about you sleep for an hour before he gets here? I’ll keep all the visitors out.”

  “Okay,” I said, relaxing into my pillow and closing my eyes.

  I felt his warm breath before his lips pressed against the tip of my nose. “Sleep well, Emmy.”

  An hour later, Jess and Nick were sitting in chairs next to my bed. My nap had been short but I felt rested.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Jess said, “but I’ve got to get your statement.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “We’ll make it quick,” he promised.

  For the next twenty minutes, I walked Jess and Nick through the events at my house. Nick got so angry when I told them about Wrecker’s and Jinx’s physical assaults that we had to take a break so he could walk the hall and cool down.

  “You got anything to add?” Jess asked Nick. “Like who those men were? Your dad and brother seemed to have a pretty good idea when we were talking on Saturday.”

  “On the record,” Nick said, “I have no clue.”

  “Off the record,” Jess said.

  “It’s a long story,” Nick sighed.

  “I’ve got time. How about you fill me in while Emmeline eats her lunch?” Jess asked.

  Jess had brought Nick and me food from the deli downtown. The restaurant owners had packed up a huge meal. Nick had a large sub sandwich and I’d gotten homemade chicken noodle soup.

  Nick started explaining and didn’t hold back any details from Jess. He told him about his childhood in Draven’s motorcycle club, his mother’s murder and how he’d once committed felony arson. I think it helped him process it all by talking it out with a friend. Nick had been carrying these heavy burdens alone for a long time.

  When he recounted how he had spent the last week, I was overjoyed when he said that he hadn’t helped the club like Draven and Dash had wanted. Instead, he’d just gone to Stone’s funeral and hung around the Clifton Forge garage.

  “At least now we know who was breaking into your house,” Nick said when he finished his story. “Just wish I would have thought about the Warriors as a threat before it escalated so far.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said, reaching out a hand toward him.

  He took it and kissed my palm.

  Nick was blaming himself for my kidnapping. It had been because of his family’s affiliations but it wasn’t Nick’s fault. And I certainly didn’t hold him responsible.

  I wished that he hadn’t left during our argument. That the Warriors hadn’t found me alone. But if they had been breaking into my home for months, it had just been a matter of time. Nick couldn’t be with me every second, and since the Warriors had clearly been determined to get me, eventually they would have. It was just too bad that it had happened after our fight.

  “All right. I’m gonna take off,” Jess said. “Emmeline, let me know if you think of anything else.”

  Both men stood, but instead of shaking hands, Nick pulled the sheriff in for a brief hug. Jess clapped him on the back and then came to my side. He bent low and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Get well, Emmeline.”

  I fought back tears. Jess had saved me from an unthinkable ordeal. Who knew what the Arrowhead Warriors would have done had they made it out of my driveway? I would forever be indebted to Jess for coming to my rescue. “Thank you. For everything,” I said.

  He nodded and ducked out of the room.

  “Thank you too,” I told Nick. “For coming back.”

  “Don’t thank me, Emmy.” Pain and guilt were etched on his handsome face.

  “It’s not your fault,” I whispered.

  “It is.”

  “It’s not. Please don’t torture yourself for this. I am fine. I will be fine. And I won’t be able to get past this if you blame yourself.”

  Nick’s head dropped to the edge of my bed and his shoulders started to shake. My strong, brave and honest man was breaking down.

  “I almost lost you,” he whispered. When he looked up, his eyes were wet. “I can’t live in a world without you.”

  Tears dripped down my cheeks too. “You don’t have to.” I reached out my hand and placed it on Nick’s cheek, my thumb gently stroking his soft beard.

  “Knock, Knock!”

  Our visitor had bad timing. Swiping the tears off my face, I pulled in a few calming breaths. Nick did the same.

  “Hi, Silas,” I said as he walked into the room.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  I shook my head while Nick stood to shake his hand. “No. Come on in.”

  “Brought you both some stuff to wear home tomorrow,” Silas said, swinging a large duffel bag from his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” Nick said, rifling around in the bag. The first thing he pulled out was one of his flannel shirts. “Can you lean forward?” Nick asked me.

  I nodded and crunched forward as best I could with the tight wrap around my cracked ribs. Nick eased the shirt over my shoulders and onto each arm. Then he tucked the back behind me and helped me snap up the front.

  When I pulled in a deep breath, I smelled Nick and instantly felt better. The pain in my side eased and the aches in my muscles lessened.

  Magic.

  “Why are you driving by the school?” The direct route to Nick’s house was straight down the highway and through Main Street. Going by the school was blocks out of the way.

  “I wanted you to see that,” he said, pointing out the front window.

  On the school’s sign, the black lettering had been rearranged to read Get Well Soon, Ms. Austin!

  “I love Prescott,” I said.

  It was Tuesday afternoon and I had just been discharged from the hospital. I was relieved to be out but nervous at the inevitable conversation to come. Nick and I hadn’t talked about our fight, about the divorce papers or about him walking out on me.

  We had both rested and I had healed.

  My ribs were still tender but I could move again without feeling sharp pains. I was enjoying the sensation of taking in a full breath without wheezing or coughing. And my eye was now a beautiful greenish yellow that matched Nick’s.

  As we weaved through town and left for the hills, the knot in my stomach tightened. My anxiety peaked the second he turned into his drive. The time for us to ignore our issues was over.

  Nick helped me inside but I froze in the entryway. I stood by the door and stared at the place where I had watched him leave and had crumpled to the floor. My eyes found the manila envelope of divorce papers still lying on the coffee table. The door closed behind me and Nick stepped into my space.

  “We can’t put it off any longer,” I said. “We need to talk.”

  “Yeah. We do,” he said quietly. “Come in and sit.”

  I shook my head and bit my lower lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I don’t think I can.”

  Walking inside meant I could lose Nick from my life. He might not forgive me for the divorce papers. For hurting him. If standing in the doorway would prevent that from happening, I would gladly stay here for the rest of my life.

  He laced his fingers through mine and leaned down to kiss the top of my hair. “Come on.” He gently tugged me behind him to the couch.

  I opened my mouth to apologize but he beat me to it.

  “I’m sorry, Emmeline. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  The emotion swelled from my chest to my throat, nearly strangling me. “No, I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

  He reached out
and grabbed the divorce papers. “I’m going to sign these. And then I’ll let you go.”

  My heart plummeted into my stomach. I started shaking my head but he was so focused on the papers he didn’t notice. His broken voice filled my ears.

  “I’m sorry I let you down,” he said. “That I didn’t stay. You deserve someone who can keep his promises. I’ll sign the papers and you can be free.”

  Tears streamed down my face. “Stop. Please,” I said, pressing my fingers against his lips. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have talked to you about how I was feeling a long time ago.”

  “No. No, Emmy. I never should have left you in Vegas. And for me to do it again when you asked me not to? None of this would have happened to you if I had stayed. It’s all on me.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I said.

  “You should.”

  “I don’t.”

  He shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing a pen from the table. Then he quickly pulled out the divorce papers and started thumbing through the pages.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped.

  “I told you I’d sign these,” he whispered. “If we’re over, let’s get it done. You can move on. Let’s sign these and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Home. The motel. The airport. Wherever.”

  Why wasn’t he listening to me? I said that I felt bad for not talking to him about a decision that affected both of us. He wasn’t giving me the chance to forgive him. He was just giving up. How dare he let me go without a fight? My sadness and confusion turned to anger.

  “That’s it? End of discussion? You hardly let me speak! How do you know I won’t forgive you? You just assume that I can’t and that’s it? Now you’re just making the decision that we’re over?”

  “I thought that’s what you’d want,” he said.

  Jumping to my feet, I yanked the divorce papers away from him and waved them in the air.

  “I want you to stop assuming that I can’t and won’t forgive you. I want you to stop thinking so little of yourself that you think I could possibly be happy with anyone else. Because I can’t. I knew that the night we got married. Thinking a divorce would make this easier was just a stupid mistake. If anyone should be sorry here, it’s me. I hurt you and—”

  My rant was immediately silenced by Nick’s mouth. His kiss was full of passion and intensity. Of hope. Of forgiveness. We were going to put this ridiculous argument behind us. Neither of us needed any more words to move forward.

  Well, maybe just a few more.

  Nick broke away from the kiss and framed my face with his hands. His sparkling eyes saw straight into the center of my soul.

  “I love you,” he said.

  To hear those words—finally! The feeling was better than any I’d had before. “I love you too.”

  A crooked grin spread across Nick’s face. “Fuck, it feels good to say that.”

  Nick erased the smile on my face with another kiss.

  “Would you build me a fire?” I asked.

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Please?”

  He reluctantly let me go and went to the fireplace. When the wood was burning hot, I knelt next to Nick and tossed in the divorce papers.

  We both watched the white paper turn brown at the center and catch fire at the edges. When they were fully black and curled into a disappearing crumple, I smiled.

  Good riddance.

  Sitting at the kitchen counter, I smiled while folding up the newspaper and tucking it beneath a stack of mail.

  The local newspaper had written a front-page article about my attempted kidnapping and subsequent illness for this week’s edition. Considering that neither of us had given an interview and Jess’s official statement had been extremely brief, I’d been surprised at how much the editor knew about my ordeal.

  I hated how public my life had been in New York but nothing about the Prescott Gazette’s bulletin bothered me. It was the first time in my life I hadn’t cringed after seeing my name in typed font. The article wasn’t nosy or critical. It was caring and sweet. The community was simply concerned about their kindergarten teacher.

  I had gone back to work this week, and though I’d come back much sooner than Nick had liked, being with my students had done a lot to help me get back to normal.

  It was Friday afternoon and I’d left work early, rushing back to Nick’s house, ready to start the weekend.

  “Hey,” Nick called.

  I glanced at the clock. He was home early. I hoped everything was okay because I didn’t think I could take much more drama.

  “You cooked?” Nick asked, walking into the kitchen.

  “Don’t sound so shocked. Or skeptical,” I said. “I used the Crock-Pot. I’ve decided it’s going to be my specialty.”

  “Considering all you have to do is dump everything in and turn it on, you should be able to handle it.”

  I poked him in the chest and rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re early and ruining my surprise.”

  “I’m not ruining your surprise,” Nick said. “You’re ruining mine.”

  “You have a surprise for me?”

  “Yep.”

  “And? What is it?”

  “How attached are you to those meatballs?” he asked. In the crockpot were Thai meatballs I was going to serve over jasmine rice.

  “Considering that it’s the first edible meal I’ve ever made you? Pretty attached.”

  “Okay. We’ll eat and then you can have your surprise.”

  I scrunched up my face and pouted. “Can I have it now?”

  “No.”

  “I hate surprises,” I said.

  He grinned. “I know.”

  We ate dinner and then Nick loaded me up in his truck. I figured he was taking me to a movie or for ice cream so when he pulled off the highway and into my driveway, I started having a mild panic attack.

  “You’re taking me to my house? That’s not a surprise. That’s torture. I’m not ready yet.” My skin was clammy and a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach.

  “You have to go in sometime, Emmy,” he said, taking my hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  “I don’t think I can.”

  He stopped his truck in front of the garage and turned to me, taking both of my hands. “Did you know that Maisy was a nurse?”

  “Yes. I read it in an article about their kidnapping after I moved here.”

  “So then you know that her and Gigi were kidnapped and held in the basement of the hospital.”

  I nodded.

  “Maisy hasn’t set foot back in that building since it happened. She gave up her career because she couldn’t overcome those fears. I don’t want that for you, to be scared of a building. This is just a place. It’s got good memories and bad. But it can’t hurt you.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. He was right. Avoidance could only last so long. It was my house. But acknowledging the facts didn’t make me feel any less anxious.

  He lifted one of my hands to his lips and then got out of the truck.

  As we ascended the stone stairs, my hands started shaking. In my mind I could hear myself screaming for help as Jinx carted me into the night.

  “You can do this. I’m right here,” Nick said. He pushed open the front door and led me inside. I clutched his hand with both of mine. “You’re doing great. Let’s rip off the Band-Aid. Straight upstairs and to your room.”

  I followed him up the stairs and down the hallway. As we got closer and closer, my feet turned to lead weights.

  We crossed the threshold and I stared around my room.

  He must have come over this week because the bed had been made and everything was back in its proper place.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that this was just a place. Nothing in here was going to hurt me. The fears were still in my head, but they were linked to Jinx and Wrecker. My room was just a room. “I’m okay.”

  “I knew you would be,” he sai
d and wrapped me in a tight hug. “Now you get your surprise.”

  “It better not just be sex because we could have done that at your house and avoided all of this drama. And if it is just sex, you’d better be planning something big to make this up to me.”

  “Oh, it’s big, Emmy,” he said, pressing his growing erection into my hip.

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” Though, he was right. It was big. Very big.

  He chuckled. “Sex isn’t the surprise.”

  “Then tell your pecker to calm the hell down.”

  “My dick is not a pecker.”

  “I don’t like surprises and you’ve made me wait for hours. You have exactly thirty seconds to produce said surprise or any and all future references to your manhood will include the term ‘pecker.’ ”

  Fifteen seconds later, we were in the kitchen.

  “You were going to make me fajitas?”

  “Yep. And scotcheroos,” he said.

  I loved that he had planned to recreate the meals from our first cooking experiences in this kitchen.

  “We should have put the meatballs in the fridge and eaten over here,” I said.

  “This will all keep for tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. It was a lovely surprise.”

  “The food is not the surprise, Emmy,” he said.

  “It wasn’t? Then what is?”

  Nick hoisted me up onto the island and stood between my legs. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a key chain with a single silver key.

  “Dinner was a good-bye. I thought we could eat here one last time and then you could come home. For good.”

  My heart fluttered and my breath hitched.

  Home.

  “This is my key?” I asked.

  “If you want it.”

  I didn’t delay in snatching the key from his hands. “Absolutely.”

  It continually amazed me how much my life had changed for the better in less than a year. Was this all real? Fate had brought me back to Nick. There was no other explanation for us finding one another again. We were destined.

  My whole body shivered when he sucked my earlobe between his lips.

  “Before we leave we’re going to celebrate.”

  “How?” I panted.

  “I’ve always wanted to have sex on that huge couch thing you have outside.”