And Rod, who was supposed to have been in a drunken rage, according to Amelia, looked, in spite of his bloodshot eyes, fairly sober.
As the information settled, my mind cast back to other things Amelia had done and not done. Taking Madison into that sleazy bar that first day we met. I thought of the skim milk in her grocery cart, the dirty diaper and how she didn't know how to use a thermometer.
I shook my head as if to rid myself of the disloyal thoughts. Amelia was in the same situation I had been. I'd had no one to believe me or help me either.
I couldn't be wrong. I'd been here before. I'd lived Amelia's life.
Remember how Eric could be so charming. So sweet. So manipulative.
But Eric had not been the only man in my life. If I was ever going to free myself from his memory, I had to use my discretion and not judge every man I met based on my experiences with one man.
“Please, did she say how she got cut? Did she tell you anything?” Rod asked again.
I wavered at the distress in his voice, remembering Jack's concern over Amelia.
“She said that you did it.”
Rod bit his lip and shook his head. Jack laid his hand on Rod's shoulder as if sympathizing with him.
“I have never hurt her or Madison,” Rod said. “Ever. Amelia… she has a few problems. So does Madison.”
“She said that you want Madison taken away from her.”
“I can't take care of Madison,” Rod said quietly, looking past me to the emergency ward where Amelia was still getting stitched up. “She has problems that I don't know how to deal with. And I know that Amelia hasn't taken proper care of her. But I can't be around all the time. I'm gone too much.”
I felt as if my world was shifting as I tried to reconcile what he was saying with my first impressions of him. Impressions that had been reinforced by Amelia.
I knew she was a little loopy. I knew she had her problems. And Rod sounded sincere. Could I believe him?
Rod sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I don't care what you think of me, Terra. But I do care about Madison. And Amelia.”
I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips, trying to figure out what to do.
“Terra, please believe him.” Jack's quiet voice slipped over my roiling thoughts. Jack was a good man. I knew that. I felt that. And it mattered to him that I believed Rod.
I held Jack's gaze, wishing I could trust my own judgment, realizing that I didn't need to. All I needed to do was trust Jack, who had given me no reason to distrust him or anything he said. In his line of work, he'd seen more domestic situations than I had. Had a larger base of knowledge.
Just trust Jack.
“I do,” I whispered. “I believe him.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, brushing my arm with the back of his hand. A casual touch, but a gentle connection.
“I'm going to talk to a doctor. See if I can talk to her.” Rod gave Jack a curt nod, then without another look at me, left me and Jack alone.
I turned to watch Rod walking toward the nurses' station, still unsure what to do.
“I should wait to bring Amelia home,” I said, reluctant to pass on what I saw as my responsibility.
“Rod will do that. No matter what you think of him, he's a good man.”
“I believe he is because you say he is,” I said quietly.
Jack brushed a strand of hair away from my face, a gesture that grazed my heart. “Are you okay? You seem tired.”
“It's late, and it's been a long, hard day.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
“I drove my car here.” I couldn't do anything more for Amelia tonight, so it was time to go.
“Let me at least walk you to it.” He put his hand at the small of my back, gently escorting me to the doors. As they swung open, a man stumbled in, followed by two more supporting a man who sagged between them.
“Hey, Jack. What's goin' on here, huh?” the first man called out, breaking away from the group.
Jack drew in a slow breath, as if gathering patience. “What do you want, Ralph?” His cop voice was back, and I was glad I wasn't the recipient of that low-level growl.
Ralph wavered a moment, the stench of alcohol washing over us. He pointed at me, his finger weaving and bobbing. “You friends with her?” He swayed, trying to focus his bleary eyes on me. “That why you told me to drop the charges? 'Cause she's a friend?”
“I told you to drop the charges because there was a strong possibility you would lose the court case and a bunch of money.” Jack didn't raise his voice, but I could hear the steel as he spoke.
As my tired mind tried to wrap itself around what Ralph and Jack were saying, Ralph poked his finger toward me. “That girl is trouble, ya know?”
Jack intercepted Ralph's hand without any change in his expression.
“She and that frien' of hers,” Ralph continued, keeping his hand down this time, “that Amelia chick. She was nothing but big trouble tonight.”
I was desperately trying to catch up.
Jack had convinced Ralph to drop the charges?
Ralph and Amelia had been in the same place tonight?
Was that where Amelia had gotten hurt?
“I'm sure I'll find out once I get back to work tomorrow,” Jack said, placing his arm on my shoulder. “For now, you'd better get your friend some help, and then you'd better get sobered up so I don't have to charge you with a Drunk and Disorderly.”
Jack gently eased me toward the door, not giving Ralph as much as a second glance.
Once we were outside, I turned, holding my hands up as conversations caught up with me and settled in my woozy brain. “Do you really think Amelia was with Ralph? Tonight? Do you think that's where she got hurt?”
Jack shrugged. “I can't draw any conclusions based on what a half-corked idiot says.”
My mind skittered over previous events, comments, and my own perceptions, trying to put this all together. “Amelia took me to the Pump and Grill. That's where I met up with Ralph in the first place.”
“Yeah.”
“So she probably knows him.”
“Probably.”
“So Rod was right.”
Jack just nodded.
“And this Ralph thing. Did you convince him to drop the charges?”
“I was doing him a favor.” Jack rocked back on his heels, tucking his hands in the back pockets of his pants, humoring me.
“And doing me a favor.”
Jack angled me a wry smile. “I had a few ulterior motives, yeah.”
“Why?”
Jack sighed, put his hand on my shoulder again, and steered me toward the parking lot. “It's no big deal. He was going to lose badly, and it would have been a waste of time and money for you, too.”
“For my wallet's sake I'm glad you did.” I didn't look at him as I moved things to what I saw was an inevitable conclusion. “And I have my money back, which means I'm free to go.”
Jack's step slowed; his hand tightened. “Go? When?”
I tried for a casual shrug, and when he dropped his hand, I felt as if I had lost something important.
Keep with the plan.
“I don't know. Soon.”
“You had no intention of staying around?”
His voice had gotten hard, more gruff than usual. I thought of what Leslie had said and, for a moment, felt guilty.
How was I supposed to know this would matter to him?
I should have. We had gone on a date and it was fun. Jack didn't seem like a casual dater. Even more important—he'd kissed me. Three times. I didn't think Jack was a casual kisser either.
I kept my eyes on my car, my ticket to freedom, parked halfway down the parking lot as I stumbled through this conversation. “That was the plan.”
“You had a plan? I thought you lived for the moment.”
“Well, sometimes.”
“So, make a new moment.” He stopped and gently turned me toward him. “Make a new plan.”
; I weighed the wisdom of what he was saying as I felt the heat of his hands on my shoulders.
Hands that were strong and gentle at the same time.
Then I made the mistake of looking at him—at how the evening light glinted off the whiskers shadowing his chin, at the slight wave in his hair. His eyes held a secret that I wanted to discover.
And then, for the fourth time, he kissed me. Just a light brush of cool lips over mine, then a harder brush as I melted toward him.
This wasn't fair. He wasn't playing fair.
“I guess… I don't have to leave right away,” I said, trying to find my breath. “I could stay awhile… you know…” I let the sentence drift off, hoping he would fill in the blanks—if not verbally, then mentally.
“I know. I think that would be good,” he said quietly, his voice a rumble under my hands, which had, somehow, ended up resting on his chest.
He slipped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me against him.
He finally let me go when we got to my car.
The faint crinkling at the corners of his eyes caught my attention. I couldn't decipher his expression, but I wanted to see it again.
“So, I guess I'll be around for a bit, then,” I said, my voice growing soft, as if uttering the words quietly made them less tangible, easier to withdraw.
Jack brushed his knuckles across my cheek.
“You must be beat,” he said, one corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-smile. “You should go home.”
“Yeah. I should.” I pulled the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, surprised to see my hands trembling. As I drove away, I could see Jack still standing in the parking lot, watching me, and I had to smile again.
I replayed the conversation Jack and I just had, trying to figure out where things had changed from my relief that I could leave to my telling him that I might not.
And as I drove I realized two things. If my car had been parked closer to the hospital, my plans might have stayed the same. It was that long walk with Jack that gave me time to think so that I was now considering staying in Harland.
I could stay awhile. Just a little while.
Chapter Twenty-two
I have to confess, for a few moments I thought you were going to duck out of the party.” Leslie walked me down the porch steps to my car, birthday party kids screeching all around us, burning off the vestiges of the cake and soft drinks they'd consumed in ridiculous amounts.
Ignoring the cacophony, Leslie leaned against the hood of my little car, her sisterly smile alternately making me feel like a proper aunt and a fraud. She didn't need to know that three plans ago I was supposed to be in Chicago today.
“I'm glad I could come.” I sidestepped a little boy who tore past us, trailing a balloon that a barking Sasha considered an intruder. “I think.”
“You made Anneke one happy princess with that silly getup.”
I heard an extra-loud screech and saw my dear niece jumping up and down on the trampoline, her tiara on her head, a cloud of pink feathers floating loose from the boa around her neck. “I'm sure that outfit won't last the evening.”
“She thinks it's great. You did good, Sis. And thanks for getting Nicholas something. He's still a bit young to get this whole center-of-attention thing that makes the birthday person harder to live with than Roseanne Barr.”
“At least Anneke didn't throw up like I did at my fifth birthday party.”
Leslie laughed. “Thank goodness for small miracles.” She didn't seem to be in a rush to get back to her kitchen table smeared with purple icing, stacks of paper plates on her counter, and a floor crunchy with potato chips.
“And how was your date with Jack last Friday?”
Ah. Now I knew the reason for the lingering. “The date was good.”
Leslie angled me a skeptical look. “You go out with a guy like Jack DeWindt, and the best you can come up with is ‘good’?”
“Okay. Really good. Except for the movie, which was so incredibly bad that calling it bad would be a compliment.”
“Do you like him?”
I pondered the question as I relived the moments I had shared with Jack. Did I like him? A person liked the color brown, chili peppers on their hot dog, and ergonomic keyboards. Saying I liked Jack made him sound as bland as a taste test.
“Your mouth is getting all soft and pouty,” Leslie said. “You do like him.”
She made it sound like an accusation. Which, in turn, made me angry.
“Yeah. I do, you know. And I think he returns the sentiment.”
Leslie nodded. “I'm not surprised.”
“Is that a bad thing? Is it so awful that your sister has finally found a decent guy? Someone who has integrity and is decent and likes his dad and… and carries a Springfield .45?”
Leslie held her hand up. “No. It isn't awful. I'm glad for you.”
“Look, Sis, I get the whole I'm not good enough for him…”
“I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way before,” she said. “I just want you to be careful. That's all.”
“I know who I am, and Jack knows who I am. He was the one who put me in jail, don't forget.” I took a quick breath, trying to calm myself before I said something we would both regret. “You gave me the Bible. I've been trying to read it, even though I really don't get a lot of it. But I'm trying. Give me some credit, okay?”
Leslie pushed herself away from my car. “I'm sorry. I was wrong.” She pulled me close in a hug. “I am happy for you. Jack's a great guy.”
“Thanks.”
She gave me another squeeze and drew back, still holding me by the shoulders. “I'm not much of a Bible expert myself, but there is a group that gets together at the church Tuesday mornings for Bible study. It's very low-key, very informal and easy. I go when I can. If you're not working, you could come, too.”
I tested the thought. Bible study. That was something I'd never thought I'd see myself involved in. “I'll think about it.”
“Thanks, Terra.” Leslie squeezed my neck. “Thanks for coming today. That meant a lot to Anneke, but it also meant a lot to me. I don't often have my own family around on these special days.”
“I'm glad I came, but I'd better get going,” I said. “You sure you don't need me to take some of these yahoos away?”
“I don't want to spook you. We want you around for a little while yet.”
I returned her hug. “Thanks for having me. It was fun.”
“You're a good auntie.”
I wrapped myself in those words as I got into the car and drove out of the yard. A good auntie. I gave myself a congratulatory grin in my rearview mirror.
Nicholas knew my name and even gave me a spontaneous hug after he got his present. Dan laughed at my jokes, and Gloria had pulled me aside to tell me that Tabitha was getting involved in something called YWAM, as if I were as involved in the girl's rehabilitation as she was.
It seemed like I was finding my place in the VandeKeere family pecking order.
I cranked up the radio, laying down a funky sound track to the countryside slipping past me. The fields were like a soft green carpet as crops started to push up through the soil. I passed a farmer driving a tractor who waved to me and I recognized one of the regulars in the diner.
My cell phone rang.
“Hey there, how are you doing?”
And my good day just got better. “I'm doing fine, Jack. How about you?”
“Doing good. I was wondering if you're busy this Sunday.”
“I think I'm off that day.” I carefully tucked the phone under my ear as I geared down for an intersection. Was he going to ask me to come to church?
“What do you say to a picnic?”
“Hello, can you pass the sandwiches?”
His light chuckle reverberated in my ear. “Let's try that again. Would you like to go on a picnic with me on Sunday?”
I waited, wondering if church was on the agenda as well. But he added nothing to the invitation.
&n
bsp; “Where do you want to meet?” I asked.
“I'll pick you up at your place.”
I took a chance. “Or we could meet at church.”
Jack was silent a moment. “Or we could,” he agreed.
I never knew you could hear a smile over the phone.
“I'm on night shift until Saturday,” he said, “so I probably won't see you until Sunday.”
“Then I'll see you at church.” I waited a moment for him to hang up, heard a throaty chuckle and then a beep as he disconnected. Flipping my cell phone shut, I tossed it onto the seat beside me. I smiled as I thought of the detour my life had taken in the past few weeks. Things were good.
Actually, things were very good.
I turned the corner and there it was. The church where I was meeting Jack.
Though I was already late, my foot came off the accelerator. What if I was making a big mistake? My blue jeans and corduroy blazer seemed pretty suitable back at home, but seemed too casual now that I faced a building with stained-glass windows and topped with a cross.
I gave my head a shake. If Jesus was willing to go looking for a lost sheep, I was sure He wouldn't fuss with what that sheep's wool looked like once He found it. Or that this particular sheep had slept in and stood a good chance of missing the first part of the service.
I angled down the rearview mirror, finger-combed my hair, licked my lips, and brushed a piece of lint off my jacket. I was as ready as I'd ever be.
This was a new adventure for me, I thought. Meeting a guy at church. I wished Leslie was here for extra moral support, but she was working so I was going solo this morning.
As I came closer to the church, I saw a man running up the steps. Thank goodness I wasn't the only latecomer. And then my cell phone rang. I pulled the phone out of my purse reminding myself to turn it off after this call. As I flipped it open, I glanced over the parking lot. It was already full.
“Hello,” I said, hoping it wasn't Jack, calling to cancel.
“Well, well, you did miss me.”
The blood drained out of my head, my hands, my arms. The phone wobbled and I couldn't breathe.
“Eric. How did you get this number?”
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