Morgan laughed. “Oh, this ought to be rich. What? Did she kill somebody or something?”
J.J. looked up in surprise.
Morgan took a step back, shocked at the truth. “No way.” Morgan couldn’t believe J.J. would seriously suggest she bring a convicted murderer to live on her farm. “Seriously, you actually want me to hire and live with a murderer? Wasn’t what happened with Ashley bad enough? What do you think I can do?”
Morgan paced back and forth in front of her studio. Nothing could have prepared her for this. “What are you thinking?” she grumbled and sat down on the steps.
J.J. held her hands out toward Morgan with her palms up. “It isn’t as easy as that. She was a child and someone hurt her. Everything I know about this case tells me she was backed into a corner and did the only thing she thought could save her. Before this happened, she was an honor student in her high school, class president, hell, she was even the freaking homecoming queen. Nothing in her history suggested she would hurt anybody.”
“But she did,” Morgan snapped. “There’s always another way. I don’t want that kind of violence around me.”
J.J. sat down and put an arm around Morgan’s neck. “Please, Morgan, do this for me. Trust me on this one. It’s the right thing to do.”
Morgan groaned and wrapped an arm around her sister. “I don’t like it.”
“I know.”
J.J. tightened her grip. Morgan gave in but couldn’t shake the feeling she was making a huge mistake. But J.J. was her sister and her weakness. If this was important to her, Morgan didn’t really have a choice. She would try.
“When will she be here?”
J.J. bounced up and down, still holding on to Morgan with all her strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. She’ll be here the first week of February.”
Morgan leaned back and pinned her sister with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of work to get done then if that cabin is going to be ready.”
J.J. smiled. “Deal.”
*
Rhea lay awake in her makeshift bed in the hayloft, listening to the sounds of the night. It was too quiet and too dark. She imagined she could hear the voices of women murmuring, some angry, some crying, some whispering lost prayers to a God she no longer believed in. But the voices were silent on this, her first night of freedom. She sighed at the irony. She would never be free from the betrayal of her father or the judgment of a world who continued to punish women and children for the crimes of their abusers. Her mother was proof enough that her life was condemned. She had to find a way out of this place. Prison was better than this new hell.
Rhea rose with the first glow of morning light and sat in the loft looking out over the fields. The winter morning glowed with orange light as the sun slowly climbed the mountain and peeked its head above the ridge, seeming to set the trees ablaze.
Rhea watched her breath freeze into a puff of white against the chill, crisp air. She drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. This was the first sunrise she had witnessed in almost sixteen years and it was more breathtaking than she remembered. For the first time since she was seventeen years old she was hopeful. The sunrise was her reminder that she could begin again. She was renewed and her determination solidified. She promised herself she would build a new life. She would never again be a victim. She swore that every day she would make her own fate and never again let anyone close enough to hurt her.
She lifted her face and let the sun kiss her cheeks. Her skin tingled from the touch of warmth against her cool skin. The sound of movement below got her attention and she stood and dusted herself off. She still wore the prison-issue sweatshirt she had been given and decided the first thing she wanted to do was go through her old clothes. Surely she had an old coat, some T-shirts, maybe some old jeans she could still wear if they hadn’t rotted away or been eaten by insects or rodents. She looked down at her sneakers and wiggled her toes. At least her boots would still fit. She had lost the softness of youth and replaced the supple curves of a girl with the hard, thin lines of a woman who never got enough to eat and spent her free time burning off pent-up energy with what exercise she could in her cell.
The barn was still dark, but Rhea didn’t turn on the lights right away. She stood still and took in the smell of old hay and dust. Horses murmured in their stalls, sensing her presence. She envisioned the long corridor lined with stalls as she’d last seen it. The memory of the feel of the railing sliding beneath her palm made her hand itch. These were once comforts. She wanted to pretend for a moment that her life had been a terrible dream, but those were childish wishes and she was far beyond fairy tales.
She flipped on the light and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. She studied the long hallway that was just as she’d remembered. It was as if time itself had stopped the day she left. Everything stood frozen in her memory as if she was holding her breath and she only needed to exhale and her life would begin again. She blew out her breath. Let’s do this.
Three hours later Rhea heard a familiar voice murmuring in the distance and realized Tommy had come in to tend the horses. A moment later he was standing in the doorway, a sly grin on his face.
“Well, I’ll be. All that time away and you’re still the prettiest girl in town.”
Rhea smiled. “Hi, Tommy.”
Tommy nodded toward the box of things Rhea had been sifting through. “Ms. Daniels had me bring those things out here a while after you were sent away. I figured you’d be back someday, so I took care of a few things for you.”
“Thanks.” Rhea pointed to a box of dresses she’d put aside along with trophies, ribbons, her scholarship letter, and her high school yearbook. “I don’t think I’ll need these anymore.”
Those things hadn’t been real to her anyway. Her life had been an act, always pretending to be someone she wasn’t, always working to hide her secret life. There was no more hiding for her.
Tommy pointed to a small box on a shelf. “The keys to the Jeep are in there. Ms. Daniels said you’d be taking it with you. I used it for small errands for the farm just to keep it running, and the tags and all are good too.”
Rhea remembered the day her parents had brought the Jeep home for her sixteenth birthday. She had felt like she was walking on air because transportation was her ticket out, the first door opened to freedom. Even now a small thrill ran through her. That was one dream that would finally come true. She opened the box and slipped the keys into her pocket. She began to pack the few belongings she could use into a contractor bag she’d found in the tack room. It was fitting that her life had been condensed into one trash bag. She found her old seed coat and coveralls and her boots. The jeans were questionable but would have to do.
“I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Most people around here wouldn’t care.”
Tommy shrugged. “I suppose everyone has their own way of dealing with things. I knew you back then. You worked hard to please everybody. I believed you back then and I believe you now.”
Tears stung her eyes. Tommy was the only one who did believe her. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, Tommy.”
He nodded. “Well, I’ve got work to do. There’s coffee in the office. Give me a yell if you need anything.”
“Hey, Tommy?” Rhea called.
“Yeah,” he said, sticking his head back around the corner.
“How’s Molly?”
Tommy sighed. “Things were tough on her. She was real restless there for a while and gave your momma a hard way to go. She got herself into a little trouble here and there but nothing too serious. She wasn’t into the books and school stuff the way you always were. But by the time she hit high school she had a plan and fast-tracked her way into the air force. She seems to be doing real good. But she doesn’t come around but maybe every couple of years.”
“Does she hate me?”
“Aw, now, that’s hard to say. At first she was real hurt and mad. But as she grew up, I think she started to figure things out
for herself. I’m not sure how she ever worked it out. She used to ask me questions about you and your daddy, but I didn’t know much. I think she eventually just wanted to get away from it all.”
Rhea took a deep breath and thought about everything Tommy had said. “The air force, huh?”
Tommy smiled. “Yep.”
Rhea smiled, and a moment later, Tommy was gone.
She looked around at the mess surrounding her and decided it was a good time for a break. She dusted herself off and headed for the coffee. She smiled. Hmm. The air force, how about that.
By early afternoon Rhea had cleared through all her things and managed to salvage a few essentials. She had expected her boots to be rotten, but Tommy had kept them oiled and they looked better than the last time she’d worn them. She had a few pairs of jeans and some old shirts she used to wear when working around the farm. Her coveralls and coat were still in good shape, but she could have done without the smell of mothballs. Thanks to the crappy prison food and the exercise routine she’d stuck to so she didn’t lose her mind, she was a bit smaller than she used to be.
Now the next order of business was food, and she still had to check in with her parole officer. Both would require contact with her mother. Rhea swallowed. She wasn’t ready for the next round with her mother, but she couldn’t put it off much longer. The sooner she took care of this business, the sooner she could leave.
Every step closer to the house filled her with dread. She climbed the steps to the porch and knocked on the door. She jumped back when her mother answered with a .410 shotgun in her hands pointed at Rhea’s chest.
“Jesus, Momma, what are you doing with that thing?”
“Get back. You aren’t stepping one foot inside this house,” her mother barked.
“Okay. I wasn’t going to come in. I just need to use the phone. I have to check in with my parole officer.”
“I’ll bring the phone out. You can wait in the yard.”
Rhea dropped her head and backed off the porch. She didn’t expect her mother to welcome her home, but the hostility was a bit much. Her stomach growled and was beginning to hurt. It was going on twenty-four hours since she had eaten and her body was protesting. Prison food wasn’t something she craved, but her body was used to eating at the same time every day and wasn’t happy she had already missed three meals. But after the reception she just got from her mother, there was no way she was asking for food.
Her mother stepped out onto the porch with the phone and a tray of bologna sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea. Rhea’s head was spinning from the contradictions in her mother. One minute she was ready to shoot her and the next she was bringing her lunch.
“What’s all this?”
Her mother squared her shoulders and brushed a strand of loose hair from her face. “No one will ever say I let anyone under my roof go hungry.”
Rhea noticed her mother had cooked the bologna until it was black, the way she had liked it as a child. One small victory, she guessed, or an olive branch perhaps. Rhea would never understand her mother, but for the moment she was thankful for her twisted hospitality.
“Thank you.”
For just a moment the hard look in her mother’s eyes softened. Her mother shifted on her feet and twisted her fingers together. “Just leave the phone on the tray when you’re done. I’ll get it later.”
Rhea nodded and watched her mother retreat back into the house. She tried to imagine what her mother’s life had been like. What could have made her accept the deplorable? Rhea sighed. She had loved her father too. That had been the one thing he used against her to keep the secret. Had he managed to garner the same hold on her mother?
Chapter Two
Rhea shivered. She didn’t remember it ever getting quite this cold in January. It had been raining all day and sleet was beginning to fall in heavy pellets that were quickly coating the trees and everything else in its path. She was nervous about setting out on her own in this weather, but the thought of spending one more night in the cold barn was enough to inspire her courage.
Tommy picked up the small box she’d put aside and set it in the front seat of the Jeep. “You sure you want to head out in this weather?”
Rhea looked out into the freezing rain. “I don’t think I have much choice.”
Tommy scuffed his boot on the ground. “Yeah. I guess I can’t blame you. It’s gotta get mighty cold up in that loft at night.”
“Yeah. That’s a big part of it.” She paused, then confessed, “I think everyone will rest a little easier once I’m gone.”
Tommy held up one finger, motioning for her to wait. “Before you go I have something for you.”
Rhea watched as the old farmhand rustled down the hall and disappeared into the office. She was shocked at how old he’d gotten. She could remember him teaching her how to spit when she was five and showing her how to bridle a horse when she was eight. He had been the one to teach her how to bait a fishhook. Rhea warmed at the memories, thankful to have something good to take away with her.
Tommy came back carrying a large box. He slid the box into the back of the Jeep and gave it a pat before shutting the door.
“What’s that?” Rhea asked.
Tommy shrugged. “I picked up some things I thought you might need until you can get on your feet. It’s not much, but I reckon you won’t starve.” He pulled a knit cap and a new pair of gloves out of his pocket and handed them to her. “And you could use something on that bare noggin of yours too.”
Rhea cleared her throat and fought back the tears that stung her eyes. “Thanks, Tommy. You didn’t have to do all that.”
He shrugged. “I know.” He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what your daddy was up to back then. I’m just sorry.”
Rhea swallowed and nodded. “That means a lot.”
He handed her a crumpled-up piece of paper. “That’s my number if you ever need anything.”
Rhea couldn’t take any more and threw her arms around Tommy and hugged him. His heavy hand came down on her back in an awkward pat.
“Take care of yourself, kid, and don’t let them get the best of you.”
As she rolled out, Rhea stopped the Jeep in front of the house and peered through the freezing rain at the dim light that glowed through the windows of her mother’s house. A figure passed in front of the window, and she could make out the image of her mother as she parted the drapes and looked outside.
Rhea held her breath, hoping for some hint of compassion from her mother. The curtain closed and the shadow of her mother faded. A moment later the porch light went out. Rhea choked back the sadness and disappointment. It was time to stop wishing for her mother’s love. Love didn’t exist. People just used others for what they wanted and disguised it as something else. Love wasn’t real.
The heavy clouds obscured what little light was left in the day. She needed to get moving if she was going to make her destination before dark. She put the Jeep in gear and turned to the open road. Night would fall fast in this weather and she still wasn’t used to driving. Uncertainty and fear stabbed through her and she stopped at the end of the drive. If she stayed, she wouldn’t have to brave the weather or the night. But if she didn’t leave, she would spend another night of bitter cold, haunting memories, and paralyzing self-doubt.
Rhea pulled onto the road. No fear was worse than that pain. She would face death itself not to spend another night here. She had at least a two-hour drive in this weather, but as soon as the view of her mother’s house faded, the tight grip around her heart eased and for the first time in days she drew in a deep breath. She was relieved when she passed the sign signaling her departure from Rhea County. Some of the darkness slipped away only to be replaced by a new doubt.
All she had were some directions and an address her parole officer had given her. She had a job and a place to live. That was more than she had hoped for and she was eager to get started. She wasn’t sure why her parole officer was he
lping her out, but she would take what she could get.
It was fully dark out now and the rain and sleet hammered against the windshield like rocks falling from the sky. It was as if Mother Nature herself was conspiring against her. The roads were twisted and narrow and the painted lines were barely visible in most sections of road.
It had been forever since she’d even seen a road sign and she wasn’t sure she was on the right road. Rhea took the next right onto a deserted dirt track that was covered with patches of ice and pools of water. The rain had turned to heavy snow and sleet and the road was covered, making it hard to see the washed-out areas and deep gullies.
Rhea turned a corner, and before she could react, a tree fell across the road in front of her. The best she could do to avoid it was to jerk the wheel to the left. An instant later the Jeep slid off the road and came to rest against the bank of the mountain. The horn blared and no matter what she did she couldn’t make it stop. Her seat belt was jammed and she couldn’t get out. Rhea slammed her palm against the steering wheel in frustration. Great, what else could happen?
She peered out the windshield and squinted through the snow. She was certain she could see light from a house just ahead. If she could just get out she might be able to get some help.
A minute later she saw a dark figure running toward her. Fear shot through Rhea and she became more frantic in her attempt to free herself. She couldn’t defend herself and she couldn’t run.
The passenger door opened and a woman with loose dark hair that clung to her face in wet waves poked her head inside. Relief instantly flooded Rhea, but her guard was still up. Just because it was a woman, didn’t mean she was safe.
“Hey, you okay?” the woman asked.
Rhea looked at her and tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “I’m stuck.”
The woman climbed halfway inside the Jeep and studied the problem. She put her hand on the seat belt and tried the release. The woman’s hand brushed against Rhea’s hip and she flinched and tried to move away. The woman pulled back and put her hands up, signaling she meant no harm.
Love’s Redemption Page 2
