Cut and Run

by Amy Elizabeth

  Cut and Run

  A Novel by

  Amy Elizabeth

  Acknowledgements

  Cover photo – Candia Baxter, Shutterstock Images

  Song Lyrics, American Pie – Don McLean

  Prologue

  Nearly two weeks had passed since the fire, but her singed skin was still tender to the touch. She dressed silently in the bathroom, wincing as she slid her bandaged foot through the leg of her jeans. The first slivers of daylight trickled through the crack in the doorway, casting soft silver shadows across the antique sink. She pulled her shirt over her head and drew in a long, pensive breath, studying her silhouette in the mirror.

  You have to do this, Rebecca. For both your sakes.

  Her stomach lurched when she heard the quiet rustle of sheets from the other room. She pressed her face to the door and dared a peek through the crack, studying his form as he slept. As much as she tried not to, she couldn’t help but notice the serene expression on his face.

  How could he look so peaceful when all she felt was angst?

  She cringed and bowed her head, envisioning a million possible futures for herself, a million alternate realities based on this one crucial moment. The rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock drifted up the stairwell, taunting her with its steady reminder that time was slipping away. How she wished she could stop the world from spinning, right here and now, so she’d never be forced to make her impossible decision.

  Then, with sudden clarity, she realized that her choice was the same as it had always been.

  She could choose to stay.

  Or she could choose to run.

  Chapter 1

  Three months earlier

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  Rebecca Sheehan struggled to alertness when a hand touched her shoulder. She rolled over and squinted against the harsh fluorescent light, trying to get her bearings.

  “Are you on the six o’clock flight to Denver?”

  Her eyes finally focused on the ticketing agent standing above her. “Yes.”

  “We just announced the final boarding call.”

  “Oh,” she said, shaking her head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize–”

  “You’re fine,” he replied, gesturing towards the gate. “We just need to get you onboard so we can depart on time.”

  Rebecca stood and stretched, wondering how she’d managed to fall asleep in the stiff plastic chair. The terminal of Boston’s Logan airport seemed eerily quiet as she gathered her backpack and handed the agent her boarding pass. He studied it for a moment and grinned when he saw her final destination.

  “One of the most beautiful places on earth,” he said as he scanned the pass and returned it to her. “Enjoy your trip, Miss Sheehan.”

  She tossed her backpack over her shoulder and scurried down the jet way, surprised by the length of the narrow passage. A cheerful flight attendant greeted her and examined her boarding pass, pointing her down the aisle to row twenty-two. Rebecca hoisted her backpack into the overhead compartment and crammed it between two larger suitcases. Then she squeezed into the window seat and leaned the chair back, letting out an overwhelmed sigh of relief.

  She’d made it.

  Rebecca stared past the wing of the enormous airplane to the dark, choppy waters of the Atlantic Ocean. It was barely six in the morning, but the horizon was already growing pink with dawn.

  “Ma’am?”

  She turned to see the same flight attendant. “Yes?”

  “I need you to bring your seat back all the way up for take-off.”

  The words didn’t register right away. “Oh. Sorry about that.”

  She pressed the button on the arm of her chair, forcing the seat back into a painfully upright position. The elderly woman seated next to her patted her hand and offered a friendly smile. “First time flying, dear?”

  Rebecca resumed her gaze out the window. “Actually, it is,” she replied, hoping her neighbor wasn’t one of those chatty types.

  Her mother was probably looking for her by now. The first person she would call was Sean, of course, although he wouldn’t have any answers for her. Rebecca felt a tiny twinge of guilt, realizing she should have at least left a note. Would it have mattered, though? She wasn’t going to hang around South Boston for a second longer than she had to, regardless of what her mother or her stepfather had to say about it. She had three months of hard-earned freedom before the start of her freshman year at Boston University, and she was going to spend them in a place that–until last year–she’d never even heard of.

  After her restless night in the airport, all Rebecca wanted to do was sleep. But as the plane rocketed down the runway and soared into the sunrise, she knew that sleep would be impossible. Her eyes were glued to the window for the entire flight, watching the big cities of the east fade away to the golden stretches of farmland over the Midwest before the plane touched down in Denver, Colorado. She stared in awe at the distant Rockies, wondering how she’d lived for seventeen years without seeing a mountain.

  She joined the exiting passengers and located the departures board, scanning the rows until she found her connecting flight. It was already boarding, so she jogged across the terminal and onto a smaller aircraft. As the plane turned northwest, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the snow-capped peaks, winding streams, and flower-filled meadows that passed below them. To someone who had never experienced anything outside an urban sprawl, the endless expanse of Wyoming appeared surreal. When the wheels finally met the tarmac of Jackson Hole airport, Rebecca was so dazed she could barely blink.

  A fresh wave of anxiety washed over her as she retrieved her backpack and wandered into the terminal. For a moment, she wondered if she’d landed on a foreign planet–or, at the very least, in the middle of a John Wayne film. It wasn’t hard to identify the locals. They looked like cutouts from a Marlboro advertisement in their Wrangler jeans, enormous belt buckles, and cowboy boots. One older man with a handlebar mustache gazed curiously at Rebecca as she strolled past in her Patriots sweatshirt and baggy cargo pants.

  Okay, so I stand out a little. At least it’ll be easy for him to find me.

  Or so she thought. When she stepped off the escalator at baggage claim, she was engulfed in a sea of Stetson hats. At five-foot-eight, she was tall but not quite tall enough to see over the tops of them. She paused and stood on her tiptoes, scanning the room for a lone Red Sox cap. Almost instantly she saw it, bobbing its way through the Stetsons. Through a break in the crowd she caught a glimpse of her brother, and her face split into a huge smile.

  Jeff would have walked right past her if she didn’t reach out and grab his arm. “Bec!” he cried, enveloping her in a bear hug. “I didn’t even recognize you.”

  She clung to him for a long time, gradually accepting the fact that this was real, that she was here, that she was safe. “Were you expecting a little girl to step off the plane?”

  “No. But I wasn’t expecting to have to beat the guys off you with a stick, either.” He took a step back and shook his head. “Look at you. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

  Rebecca’s cheeks flushed. Five years had passed since she’d last seen him, but he looked exactly the way she remembered–warm hazel eyes, wavy brown hair, and a solid, athletic frame. He’d always been her confidant and place of refuge, the only vestige of sanity in her otherwise tumultuous life.

  And she needed him now like never before.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, sis. You have no idea how much I’ve worried about you. I couldn’t sleep after you called me last night–”

  “You know what? Let’s not talk about it right now.” She gave a wobbly grin. “The important thing is that I’m here.”

&nb
sp; “Yes, you are,” he declared, sweeping her up in another hug.

  They gathered her suitcase and stepped outside into the crisp alpine air. Rebecca marveled at the tranquility of the airport–no police whistles, no honking horns, no screaming children. She inhaled a deep breath of pine and sunshine and could almost feel the tension draining from her muscles. As they made their way through the parking lot, she nearly tripped over the curb from craning her head around to gawk at the mountain range behind them. It wasn’t so much the size–although they were massive–as it was the shape of them. Each of the summits possessed a distinct tilt, like cresting waves turned to stone, giving the long row of white peaks an otherworldly appearance.

  “Wow,” she said aloud. “Those are the Tetons?”

  “Yep. This place goes crazy with skiers in the wintertime, but the summers are my favorite. You’re going to love it.”

  By the time they reached his Jeep, Rebecca was gasping for breath. “I didn’t realize I was so out of shape.”

  Jeff chuckled as he loaded her bags into the backseat. “It’s the altitude. Just give it a few days–you’ll get used to it.”

  She settled into the passenger’s seat, still unable to tear her eyes from the mountains. “How far away is your apartment?”

  “Twenty minutes. And the school where I teach is right around the corner.”

  The ink had barely dried on Jeff’s high school diploma before he packed his bags and headed west. Determined to do something productive with his life, he made it all the way to California and worked two jobs to put himself through college. After graduating, he applied for positions all over the country and accepted an offer from the public high school in Jackson, teaching science to ninth- and tenth-graders. Rebecca hadn’t spoken with him as much as she would have liked over the past few years. Now that she was a high school graduate herself, though, she’d wasted no time following in his footsteps.

  “So you like it here?” she asked.

  “I do. It’s kind of like being in a time warp, but in a good way. Everyone moves at a slower pace, so it’s the perfect place to decompress.”

  She grinned when they passed a herd of deer grazing along the roadside, their furry ears twitching with each mouthful of grass. “I haven’t talked to Mom lately,” Jeff added. “She’s okay with you spending the whole summer here?”

  Rebecca dropped her gaze, racking her brain for a way to change the subject.

  “Sis…? You did tell Mom you were leaving, didn’t you?”

  She rarely cried, so she was shocked when tears welled in her eyes. “You have no idea how bad it got,” she replied, her voice very small.

  He shot her a brief but pointed look. “You’re telling me that you just packed a bag and went to the airport and didn’t even–”

  “Don’t you dare lecture me!” she cried, glaring straight back at him. “You did the same thing five years ago!”

  “That didn’t make it right. And besides, it was different.”

  “Why, because you’re a guy? You can take care of yourself? Newsflash, Jeff–I can take care of myself, too.”

  His expression softened. “I know you can. I just wish you’d told her, that’s all. It was bad enough that I left the way I did.”

  “You left because you wanted to better yourself–there’s nothing wrong with that. And look where you are now.” She touched his shoulder. “You got out of Southie. You made your own way. I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” He sighed as he turned onto the highway. “So, you wanna tell me why you were so upset yesterday?”

  Amidst the beauty of the flights and the thrill of seeing her brother again, she’d almost forgotten the reason she fled to Wyoming in the first place. “Can it wait ‘til later?”

  Jeff gave a sympathetic grin. “Sure. We’ve got all summer, don’t we?”

  *

  The town of Jackson was charming and quaint, and Jeff was accurate in his description–it did feel like she was stepping back in time. Wood-planked sidewalks lined the narrow streets, leading the way to old-fashioned saloons and lodges she thought only existed in black-and-white photographs. Blending in flawlessly beside them were modern galleries and upscale restaurants, giving the main street a sophisticated ambiance. Marking the entrance to the town square was one of the most peculiar sights Rebecca had ever seen–an enormous archway formed entirely of elk antlers. And just when she was sure she was imagining things, a bright red stagecoach rounded the corner, drawn by a team of hardy chestnut horses.

  “Are you still obsessed with horses?” Jeff asked.

  She beamed as she watched them trot by, their shod hooves clip-clopping along the pavement. “You have no idea.”

  Rebecca’s source of escape from the realities of home had always been horses. From the time she was old enough to read, she buried herself in books and magazines, absorbing every possible bit of information about these magnificent animals. She knew every breed from Arabians to Westphalians, every illness from colic to founder, every detail about racing, dressage, and equitation–yet she’d never ridden a horse. In fact, she’d never even touched a horse. The only horses she’d ever seen were the mounted police horses in Boston Common.

  Jeff parked his Jeep at Crestdale Apartments, and Rebecca followed him upstairs into his condo. “It’s not usually this clean, so don’t get used to it,” he said. “There’s not much in the way of food, though. I didn’t have time to go to the store.”

  “We can go later,” she replied, taking in her new surroundings. Posters of his favorite Red Sox and Bruins players formed an all-star lineup around a flat-screen TV, a sagging green couch, and a secondhand dining table. It was a bachelor pad through and through, but to Rebecca, it might as well have been the Taj Mahal.

  “My bedroom’s the one in the back,” he said as he flipped on the hallway switch. “The bathroom’s on the right. And this is your room.”

  Rebecca smiled when she stepped into her bedroom. It was painted cornflower blue and contained a double bed, a tall white dresser, and a walk-in closet. She was touched when she saw a full-length mirror on the closet door–Jeff must have remembered that she’d always wanted one. She opened the blinds and gasped at the sight of the wide open plains that stretched towards the distant peaks. Down below, sunburned tourists with over-sized cameras and authentic Wyomingites in deerskin vests strolled along the sidewalk towards the town square.

  Jeff dropped an arm around her shoulders. “So what do you think?”

  She smiled up at him. “It’s wicked awesome.”

  While Jeff ran out to pick up lunch, Rebecca stepped into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. She glanced in the mirror as she reentered her bedroom, recalling her brother’s compliment at the airport. She’d never struggled to get a boyfriend, but still, she didn’t think she was particularly beautiful. Her Irish heritage was evident in her green eyes and fair skin with a dusting of freckles. There were striking red highlights in her long auburn hair, and she’d inherited her slender figure from her mother. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder what the guys out here would think of her.

  Not that it was high on her priority list.

  When she unzipped her backpack, the first thing she saw was the photo frame she’d swiped from her nightstand. She didn’t even remember packing it–she must have thrown it in as an afterthought. She studied the photograph with a heavy heart, hardly able to believe that it was only last year. Sean had surprised her with tickets to a Red Sox-Yankees game, and they spent the evening cheering for their home team until their throats were hoarse. They were smiling in the picture, their cheeks flushed from the cool night air, their matching Sox caps contrasting against the imposing wall of the Green Monster.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago. In a strange way, it didn’t even feel like her life.

  She cringed and set the photo aside, wondering how she was going to break the news to her brother. The boys were best friends growing up, from Little League all the way tho
ugh high school. Jeff’s departure from Boston was as devastating for Sean as it was for Rebecca, and they gradually grew closer in his absence. By the time she turned sixteen, their friendship had blossomed into a relationship.

  Last year, however, Sean traded his blue-collar job for the always-popular ‘Southie’ career choice of trafficking and dealing drugs. Soon he was racing down a path she didn’t want to follow–an endless cycle of lies and deceit and inevitable run-ins with the law. She never had the heart to tell her brother about Sean’s downfall, all the times he was arrested, or any of the other trouble he caused. It was much easier to pretend that everything was fine and that everyone was exactly the way Jeff remembered.

  The sound of the front door opening jolted Rebecca back to the present. “Sis?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I ran into my buddy in town and he’d like to meet you. Are you up for it?”

  She wasn’t, really, but she slid the photo under her pillow and pushed herself to her feet. “Sure,” she answered as she emerged from her room.

  A moment later, her brother reentered the apartment, followed by a wiry guy about his age. He was tall, maybe six-two, with curly blond hair and blue eyes that peeked out beneath a white Stetson.

  “Bec, this is Tommy Bateman. Tommy, my sister Rebecca.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she greeted.

  The sincerity in his smile instantly put her at ease. “You, too,” he drawled, giving her hand a good solid shake. “Jeff’s been talkin’ about you coming out here for months now. It’s great to put a face to the name.”

  “Are you hungry, Tommy?” Jeff asked as he unloaded the take-out bags. “You’re welcome to stay for lunch.”

  “Aw, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  It took minimal persuasion to change Tommy’s mind. The three of them settled at the dining room table and passed around overstuffed containers of barbecued chicken and mashed potatoes. The conversation turned to last night’s baseball game, and Rebecca couldn’t help but smile at the twang in Tommy’s voice. She’d never met anyone with a true Southern.