by Sable Hunter
Cathy’s enthusiasm made Shae feel like a million dollars. “You know, I just may be able to pull this off.”
“Soon, we’ll have everything published you’ve written so far. You’ll have to keep churning out the words, I’m not sure how long the mojo lasts on these books.”
“Me either, I just hope I can keep having ideas.” Shae felt mesmerized by the numbers changing on the dashboard as her books sold. “You know, I bet stockbrokers feel like this watching the big board, or maybe gamblers watching the reels spin on a slot machine.”
“Except this is all wins, girl.” Cathy clapped her on the shoulder. “You’re doing good.” She leaned over to whisper, “And Lynn would send you a thank you note if he knew where my inspiration was coming from.”
Shae laughed. “It’s nice to know my books can do some good.”
“Oh, my word, yes. The more I read, the more I realize they’re like a movie, especially with the extra you’ve added. There’s adventure, villains, emotion, and love, plus the sex! A person may buy them initially for the love scenes, but they’ll buy your next book for the story itself. Your couples are committed, loyal, and compassionate. In fact, you paint a picture of what true love and romance should be like.”
Shae was moved to tears. “Thank you, Cathy.” She hugged her. “Your compliment means the world to me.”
After another hour’s work, Shae led Cathy around the small bungalow to show her the progress she’d made preparing the house for renovation. “See, I tore the wallpaper off the wall in the dining area and pulled up the ratty carpet. Look what I found underneath.”
“Neat. Hardwood. This is nice.” She knelt on the floor to feel the wood grain. “When you refinish it, this will be gorgeous.”
“I think so.” Walking down the hall, Shae beckoned. “Come see this.”
“Okay.” Cathy followed her and clapped her hands when she saw a claw foot tub. “Oh, wow. I want this!” Racing over, she crawled into the tub and sat down. “You’ll have to set one of your love scenes in this beauty.”
“True, that’s a good idea.” Shae sat down on the lowered toilet seat. “I just hope Grandmother continues to improve. They managed to get her up and on a walker yesterday.”
“She’ll be racing the other residents up and down the hall before you know it.” Cathy climbed out of the tub and checked her makeup in the mirror. “How’s her speech? Any better?”
“Still garbled.” Shae sighed. “I talk to her as if she understands every word I’m saying. I can’t be sure she does, but it helps me feel better to share things with her. I miss confiding in her.”
“Talking to her is probably a good idea. The doctors even recommend conversing with people in a coma, I’m sure this is the same thing.”
Shae jumped up. “What time is it? I promised I’d bring her a hamburger for supper.”
Cathy checked her watch. “Land sakes, I need to pick up Daisy from daycare before Shaun’s bus drops him off at the house.”
Together they hurried to the living room. “Let me grab my purse and I’ll walk you out,” Shae told her.
After saying goodbye to her friend, they parted ways and Shae began the short journey to town from the fixer-upper she’d purchased for a song. The house sat on an acre of land near a creek. Familiar with the area, she knew the house would be surrounded by wildflowers come spring. As she drove, she hummed a tune, feeling hopeful for the first time since her grandmother’s stroke.
About to forget the burger, she pulled over and made a U-turn, heading through the drive-through of the rundown Dairy Queen. When the order was filled, she continued on to the nursing facility, anxious to see her grandmother. Once inside the home, the trek to Coretta’s room took some time, because Shae knew everyone and took time to speak to each nurse and each patient she encountered. Upon arriving at her grandmother’s room, she tapped on the door. One of the aides, Marilee Rose, sat next to the hospital bed reading from the Psalms aloud. “How nice. Are you two having fun?”
Marilee rose from her spot and bent to kiss Coretta. “Your granny is so sweet. She loves the Word, I can tell. She lays so still and hangs on every word I say.”
“Thank you, Marilee, I appreciate you taking a bit of extra care with our girl.” She waited patiently for the other woman to leave so she could have a little alone time with her favorite person in the world. Once the aide departed, Shae moved to the bedside to embrace her grandmother. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” When Coretta met her gaze, but only smiled, Shae took that as a positive response. “Good. Look what I brought?” She held up the bag containing the fragrant burger. “Hungry?” When the answer to her question was a big smile, Shae sat down and helped Coretta as she ate the burger.
“You know, I’m getting everything ready for you to move home when you can. I told you I sold the big house to help pay for the medical bills your insurance didn’t cover, but I bought us the cutest little house you’ve ever seen. Just as soon as I save enough money, I’ll get it all fixed up and ready for you to move in.”
Seeing what she thought was a questioning look in Coretta’s eyes, Shae set out to explain things a little more in depth to her. “No, I didn’t sell Grandpa’s land by the mill. I remember your fond memories of fishing in the pond. You know my church job doesn’t pay enough to cover hardly anything. I work there because I love the children and I want to help out.” Lowering her voice, she smiled. “Do you want to know how I’m making some extra money for us?” She paused and took a deep breath. “This is a secret, but I’m writing books to sell. Romance books. Love stories. Guess what name I’m using?”
Coretta’s eyes widened as if to ask ‘who’?
“Jessabelle, after your mother Jessa and your grandmother Belle, all the important ladies in your family. What do you think of that? I’m an author!”
To her everlasting shock, Coretta raised her hand and touched Shae’s face. “Proud.”
“Oh, Grandmother, you spoke!” She clasped the older lady in a gentle hug.
“She spoke?”
The voice sounding behind her caused Shae to jump. “Oh, Marilee, I didn’t know you were there.”
“Just checking to see if you two need anything.”
“We’re fine. Just fine,” she assured the aide, but Shae couldn’t help but wonder just how much Marilee Rose had overheard.
CHAPTER FOUR
Another three months pass…
Shae
“What did you say?” Cathy asked, sitting on a stool at the bar. “Are you going to meet this woman for lunch?”
“Well, I said I would. Why not?” Shae looked unsure and a bit overwhelmed. “You know I can’t do book signings, I’m trying to hide my identity. I’ve offered to get together with several fans and Jo took me up on it. I told her we’d meet in Huntsville. The likelihood I would run into anyone I know down there is slim to none.”
“What’s her name?”
Shae grinned. “Jo Powers. This is where it gets interesting, I looked her up on the internet. Her family is fairly well known. They own several factories that produce recycled plastic lumber.”
“Wow, how innovative. Where are these factories? You know I live in constant fear that the sawmill will be shut down and Lynn will be out of work.”
“I don’t remember, I’ll send you the link. Plus, I’ll ask her when I see her. Okay?”
“Good.” Cathy shook a little salt in her hand, then licked it off. “I guess I worry too much.”
“Hey, do you want to go with me? I plan on doing a little research while I’m there.”
“What kind of research?”
Shae laughed at the panicky look on her ginger friend’s face. “Nothing lascivious. I thought I’d take a side trip down Demon Road. I’m thinking about including that location in my next book.”
Cathy shivered and grimaced. “I’m not too keen on demons.”
“I promise you’ll be safe. I just want some photos and a little background info.”
“Okay.” Cathy jumpe
d off the stool. “Make arrangements and let me know. Field trip!”
“Okay. We’ll go tomorrow if Jo is free. I want to get back and work on the next book. If things continue to go this well, I can start looking for someone to do the renovations on the house.”
“Uh…I started not to…uh…”
“What?” Shae looked up from the computer screen to see what her friend was mumbling about. “What’s wrong?”
“Probably nothing.” She came to kneel by Shae. “I ran into Faye Cummings in the grocery store and she asked me if you were writing books.”
A wave of nausea swept through Shae. “How?” She covered her face. “Oh, God. What did you say?”
“I lied. I told her I didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about.”
“How did she find out? Did you tell anyone?”
Cathy stiffened. “No, I didn’t, and I resent the question.”
“Sorry.” Shae rose slowly. “There’s no clue in my books to my identity. No photo. No link whatsoever.”
“I don’t know, Shae. They’re all set in this area. You talk about things no one would know anything about unless they lived around here.”
“Not true. I wrote nothing about this part of the world that’s not public information, readily available on the internet.” She wiped a cold sweat from her brow.
“Yea, but how many people know those things? Everyone around is aware how fascinated you are with local history. I think you referred to Lady Bountiful in the couple’s Sunday School class a few weeks ago and you wrote about her in that historical one, Virgin Territory. In your lesson, you went on and on about the anniversary of the murder and how a timber baroness was buried in a pauper’s grave.”
“The life of Lillian Knox is common knowledge in the area. She was well known for her generosity and her family owned the lumber company and the sawmill. Heck, President Woodrow Wilson was a fan, giving her some kind of honor for being one of the most influential women in the nation.”
“Yes, you said the same thing in your lecture that you did in the book, how she died in 1966 and was buried in a grave with no tombstone, her reputation destroyed by a string of suspicious deaths, forgery charges, and a prison term. Someone might have put two and two together.” She gave Shae a warning look. “Just goes to show how far you can fall, no matter how well respected you are.”
Shae felt censured. “Are you comparing me to a woman suspected of shooting her husband and bludgeoning her mother-in-law to death?”
Cathy shook her head. “No, not really. I’m just saying you’ve written about topics that people have heard you discuss, things that don’t interest most folks - like the Olive ghost train, or Stampede Mesa, or the Shacklefoot community over near the Sabine River. Face it, St. John, you have your own distinctive brand of weird.”
“I don’t know,” Shae muttered, her mind whirling. “That would mean someone in town is reading my books.” Her gut clenched so hard, she grabbed the edge of the table. “I didn’t expect anything like this.”
“Maybe they found out some other way.” Cathy crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you told anyone, Shae?”
She frowned. “Just Grandmother, but she’s not…”
Cathy raised her eyebrow. “You said she was talking.”
“Not clearly, and she doesn’t really know anything, just that I’m writing…and…” Shae bowed her head. “My penname.” She whirled to march over to the window overlooking the creek. “You know, Marilee Rose hangs around Coretta’s room a great deal.”
“Oh, she pretends to be such a goody-two shoes. Too heavenly minded for any earthly good. I hear she drinks like a fish at home.”
She had to laugh. “Does she drive through the Baptist window at Oma’s Liquor Store?”
“Ha! Probably. There’s a reason they put that drive through window behind the store.”
Shae pushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “Well, keep your ear to the ground. The books are doing too well to think about stopping.”
“Right. You just continue writing and let me know about the trip tomorrow. I still want to go.”
“Good. Thanks.” She pressed a hand on her rolling stomach. “Maybe this won’t go any further.”
“Let’s hope not, the last thing we need is for you to get outed, Miss Erotic Romance writer.”
* * *
Derek
Standing over the grave with his hat in his hand, Derek sighed. He’d waited too long to come home. “I’m sorry, Uncle.” Today was the first day he’d had time to visit the cemetery since moving back to Longleaf. He knelt and picked up a pecan from the ground, tossing it up in the air and catching it again. “No one called me.”
Nearby, a squirrel chattered, causing Derek to stand up and smile. “Hungry? Here.” He tossed the nut toward the small, demanding animal. As he exhaled a long breath, his eyes wandered down the line of tombstones. “The Alden family has dwindled down to me.” And June. “I won’t give you up, my baby.”
He’d let his emotions get away with him during his divorce. Trying to appease Blair, he gave her everything she’d asked for, hoping his concession to her demands would make the sharing of their daughter easier. Derek knew now he’d been dreaming. Blair was out for blood, threatening to ‘make him pay’. After seeing her break promise after promise, he’d called an old friend from Bastrop, Zane Saucier, who practiced law in Austin. Zane was instructing him to keep his nose clean until the firm’s PI could look into Blair’s affairs, business and otherwise.
After bidding his deceased family farewell, he left the cemetery and began the half mile hike to his family farm, or what was left of it. The place was falling down. His first order of business was to make the old house habitable, then he needed to find work. Alimony and child support weren’t cheap, his savings would be depleted before he knew it.
As he walked down the path strewn with pine cones, he sniffed the air. Immediately, memories assailed him – swimming in the creek, climbing the water tower, running down the railroad track – hopping from one tie to the other, then bounding off the top of the trestle and hoping the water at the bottom was deep enough to swim in. For most of his childhood, he’d spent every summer here, only returning to the rice paddies of Port Arthur when the day rolled around for him to start school.
A few more steps carried him by a honeysuckle laden fence and across the narrow dirt lane toward an oak tree holding the remnants of a treehouse he’d built in the spreading branches over twenty years before. A sound in the distance caused Derek to miss a step, his head jerking up to peer into the distance.
Church bells.
The sound brought back a nostalgic feeling, and when the melodious ringing was quickly followed by the noon whistle from the sawmill, he knew he’d returned home.
* * *
Blair
“You need to take a nap. You’re driving me crazy, little girl.” Blair chased in behind June who was playing hide and seek, racing from room to room to find places to hide. “Where did you go?”
“I’m in here, Mama.”
Blair moved down the hall, peeking in every door. Finally, she realized June had gone into Max’s private office. “Hey, you shouldn’t be in there.” Following her into the paneled sanctum, Blair was instantly distracted by what she found. She’d never been allowed in this room before.
“Pictures!” June stood mesmerized by large portraits on easels. They sat in a half-moon pattern around what looked like an altar. “Who is this?” she pointed to one of the ornate paintings.
“Uh.” Blair didn’t know what to say. “Nobody important.” This was no one June needed to know about. Not at her young age.
A mix of awe and worry played over her skin. She was so entranced with Maximillian Provo. He possessed a charisma that she didn’t know existed in a mortal man. These portraits were men he admired, she knew this. But…she’d never seen this type of shrine before. Her eyes flitted from Charles Manson to the Reverend Jim Jones to Waco’s D
avid Koresh, even a likeness of Charles Whitman, the first mass shooter who killed seventeen people from the tower on the University of Texas campus…and lastly to Stephen Paddock, the man who’d murdered fifty-eight people at a country music festival on the Las Vegas strip.
“Come on.” She took June’s hand. “Let’s…”
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” Maximillian’s voice boomed with anger.
Blair whirled to find him looming large in the doorway. “June was playing hide-and-seek.”
“In my office?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure she doesn’t play in here.” Blair attempted to move by him.
He wouldn’t let them. “Don’t ever let this happen again. Do you hear me?”
Blair nodded.
“Don’t nod. Speak to me.”
“I hear you.”
Maximillian frowned. “I don’t like your attitude.”
Blair lifted her chin and in the next instance the judge slapped her so hard she wavered on her feet.
“Mama!” June screamed, then lifted her leg and kicked Provo as hard as she could in the shin.
“You little demon!” Max bent and slapped June hard enough across the face that she did fall to the ground.
“Mama! Mama!” she began to scream, holding a hand to her cheek rendered scarlet by the big man’s hand.
“Get up! Apologize!”
“She’s too little, she doesn’t understand,” Blair told him meekly.
He glared at the small child. “I’m God to you, brat. You’d better understand!”
Blair wanted to be angry. She knew she should be angry. But right now, she was just very turned on.
* * *
Shae
“Wow, you brought one of each, Jo.” Shae marveled at how it felt to hold the books she’d written in her hands. “This is the first time I’ve actually seen one.”
“You’re kidding me!” Jo ran a hand over the glossy paperback. “If I were you, I’d display these on easels in every room of my house, have posters made of the covers to display on the walls, even put up a welcome sign at the city limits of your town.” She made a frame with her fingers. “Home of Shae Jessabelle St. John.”
