Now and Always

by Lori Copeland

  Something lunged toward her. Katie fell backwards, her petrified screams shattering the night air. Her head slammed against the floor. She had an impression of something hurtling past, and then pain and darkness overcame her.

  Katie woke to a blaze of light and Tottie bending close. She blinked at the sudden brightness. Her head hurt. Her shoulder throbbed. “What happened?”

  “You tell me.” Tottie’s voice was acid-sharp, her eyes pinpoints of slanted light. “We heard you scream and rushed downstairs and that thing was batting around the room.”

  Katie tried to sit up, but the room whirled and she sank back down. Something large and moving fast flew overhead. Tottie ducked. The sound of breaking glass shattered the room. Clara, prominent politician Clara, dashed past holding a large towel, arms outstretched. Katie shut her eyes and then opened them again. Clara was attacking people? Had she been hiding in the cellar?

  Katie pushed up to one elbow in time to see Meg run toward the living room, screaming, “Catch him!”

  “Him?” Katie glanced at Tottie. “Who?”

  “Not who, what. A barn owl. Apparently he was in the cellar.”

  “That’s what hit me? An owl?”

  “I think you fell and hit your head.”

  Katie ducked as the owl flew past, the women in hot pursuit. Janet knocked over a chair, staggered, and fell against the table. Ruth swatted the air with a broom, sending the owl in headlong flight toward the kitchen window.

  Janet opened the door, propping the screen back with a stick of wood. “Head him this way. Maybe he’ll fly out.”

  “We’re trying,” Clara panted. “But he’s not cooperating. Reminds me of some senators I’ve known.”

  “Wait,” Meg shouted. “We’re just scaring it more. Give it time to calm down.”

  All activity ceased as the women stood silent, waiting. The owl swooped overhead, and came to rest on the floor. Clara inched forward, towel outstretched.

  “Watch that thing,” Tottie said. “It has strong talons and a beak that can rip your arm.”

  Clara paused, turning to look at them, mouth open, eyes wide. Then she swallowed and took a slow step toward the owl. Meg, brandishing a dishtowel, moved in from the opposite direction.

  In one swift movement, Clara lunged at the large bird, covering it with the towel. “I’ve got it!”

  Apparently the smothering cloth cowed the owl into inactivity. Clara lifted it, grunting with the effort. Meg ran to open the kitchen door, and together the two women stepped outside and released the feathered intruder.

  Meg grinned. “We make a good team.”

  “None better.” Clara shook out the towel and glanced around the room. “He sure made a mess.”

  Katie, still on the floor, looked around at the shambles the owl had made of Tottie’s kitchen. She thought Tottie would have a fit.

  But the housekeeper remained silent, eyes searching the cellar door. Then she glanced back at Katie. “What I want to know is who put that bird in the cellar? It didn’t get in there by itself.”

  The women suddenly fell quiet as her words echoed in the room. Fear, like a smothering blanket, kept them frozen in place. Katie took a deep breath. Tottie was right. There was no way that owl could have gotten into the cellar on its own. Someone had put it there, the same someone who was behind all the other things that had been happening?

  Tottie shoved herself to her feet and reached down to help Katie get up. “Let’s get a cold compress on that head.”

  “I’ve got a headache.” Probably had a lump the size of Mount Everest rising too.

  The housekeeper nodded. “I’ll make a pot of coffee. No one can sleep now anyway. Sit here. We need to talk.”

  Katie agreed, though she knew she would hate the subject. It didn’t take a mystic to see Tottie had had her fill of scares.

  Meg dropped into a chair opposite her. “Why would anyone put an owl in the cellar?”

  Katie spread her hands in a shrug. “I don’t have a clue. A prank, I guess.” Tottie measured coffee while Janet brought a broom and dustpan to clean up the glass shards from a shattered vase.

  Katie’s eyes roamed the kitchen, realizing anyone standing outside could see in. Tottie was waiting for an explanation, so she collected her thoughts. She didn’t want to frighten the women until she knew what had really happened.

  “We’re just guessing someone put the owl in the cellar. In the morning we can find out more about it. And while the excitement was exhilarating, no lasting damage was done. So let’s not jump to conclusions.”

  Ruth returned from checking the doors. “Everything’s locked up tight. No one has been in the house.”

  “So let’s have a cup of coffee and a sweet roll and then go back to bed.” Katie spoke with a brightness she didn’t feel. She had a hunch Tottie was right.

  Someone had put that owl in the cellar.

  Early the next morning, Katie walked around the house looking for signs of how the bird had gotten in last night. A broken cellar window at the back of the house seemed to be the point of entry. A loose feather caught in the branches of the forsythia bush fluttered in the wind. The ground was too hard to hold a footprint, but why would a barn owl be on the ground at the back of the house? It would have had to fly into the low window hard enough to break it, and she couldn’t see how that could have happened. No, Tottie was right. That owl had help getting inside.

  After breakfast, Katie took the list Tottie handed her. Clara downed her coffee and pushed back from the table. “Mind if I ride along?”

  It was the first simple request Clara had made. It wasn’t a good idea, but Katie relented. “If you remain in the car unseen.”

  “Fine. Anything to get out of here for awhile.”

  Katie drove into Little Bush with Clara in the passenger seat. Regardless of what the budget said, she needed a latte. Needed it bad. She parked outside the grocery mart and warned Clara to stay put.

  “Pick me up a package of Salems, will you? I’ll have my people reimburse you.”

  Katie nodded, but she was tempted to remind her that she was still waiting for the check on the caviar.

  “Want a latte?”

  “No, just the smokes.”

  Katie met Ben on the sidewalk outside of the coffee shop.

  “Hey, girl-of-my-dreams-who-won’t-give-me-the-time-of-day.” His eyes sparked with devilment. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee — better yet, marry me and I’ll buy you a latte machine.”

  “Make that a Starbucks and you’re on.”

  He held the door to the café open for her and followed as she walked inside. They settled in a booth and gave their orders, and Ben looked at her speculatively. “You look peaked. Bad night?”

  “No, not really, why?”

  He leaned back and twirled a coffee spoon. “Oh, I don’t know. You look scared, tired, and you’ve got an egg-sized lump on your head.”

  “Tottie called you.”

  “Yeah. That too.”

  She explained what happened the night before, trying to make light of it, but Ben didn’t laugh.

  “That owl more than likely didn’t get into that cellar by itself.”

  Katie sighed. “I know, but I don’t want the women upset over an owl.”

  “Forewarned is forearmed. They’ll be safer if they’re on guard.”

  “Or maybe they’ll leave and put themselves in harm’s way. What would anyone have to gain by putting an owl in the cellar? It seems so pointless.”

  “You make any enemies other than me lately?”

  “You’re enough,” she teased. “But every man whose woman takes shelter with me is my enemy.” She told him about the incident two years ago with Ed and how it had unnerved her.

  Ben shook his head. “You may have stirred up a hornet’s nest this time. Someone is trying to cause trouble.”

  “Nothing threatening happened until after Clara came.”

  He tossed the spoon on the table. “Neil Townsend isn’t skulk
ing around your house playing pranks, Katie. He’s too high profile for that. Someone would spot him in a minute. More likely, it’s Meg’s boyfriend. Or Janet’s husband. Could even be Ruth’s husband. Why focus on Townsend?”

  “Neil has friends I’d bet who wouldn’t mind terrorizing a bunch of women.”

  Ben nodded. “You could be right — not likely. My checks haven’t turned up anything suspicious.”

  “Warren is working on it too.”

  “Goody for Warren. He’s really, really swell.”

  “Give me a break. Why don’t you like Warren?”

  “Do I need a reason?”

  She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. Tottie needs those groceries for lunch, and Clara’s waiting for me in the car.”

  “What’s she doing here in town?”

  “She was going stir-crazy in the house. I thought it wouldn’t hurt if she rode along.”

  “I’d advise you not to allow that in the future.”

  “I know.”

  Ben paid the bill and they parted on the sidewalk. “Look. Watch your back. I think these incidents have you spooked, but I’m on it. Call me anytime — day or night. Understand?”

  “Understood.”

  She had turned to leave when he said the oddest thing. “One of these days, Katie Addison, I’m going to give up on you and marry the first woman who will have me.”

  This time his voice didn’t have a hint of humor. In lieu of the serious tone, Katie spouted, “Grow a couple of inches, and we’ll talk.”

  “No.” He stood his ground. “You shrink a couple of inches.”

  Ben bumped into Clara, strolling along window shopping, on the way back to his office. Holy —

  She turned to acknowledge him. “Sheriff. Cold today, isn’t it?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in the jeep?”

  Clara returned to window shopping. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Didn’t Katie tell you to stay in the car?”

  Clara’s chin lifted. “I’m not fifty feet away from the vehicle.”

  “Mrs. Townsend, you’re not only inviting trouble for yourself, but you’re putting the other women in jeopardy. Go back to the jeep and stay there.”

  Her eyes turned as cold as the whipping wind. “What I do is none of your business, and don’t speak to me in that tone again.” She turned and sauntered further down the street.

  Ben counted to ten and walked on. Katie Addison, I hopeyou know the trouble you have on your hands with this one.

  Owls. Snotty women. It was enough to try Job’s patience.

  Over dinner the discussion turned to the upcoming holidays looming on the horizon. Katie’s thoughts turned from owls to a live nativity at the women’s shelter. Janet thought up the idea.

  “Let’s have a live drama — a nativity scene. By Christmas Meg’s baby boo will be here, and she can play Baby Jesus.”

  Tottie frowned. “You shouldn’t refer to Meg’s baby as baby boo. It’s not fitting.”

  Meg helped herself to the stroganoff. “Why not? That’s my pet name for her.”

  Katie interrupted. “Are you serious? A drama might be fun.” Something to take the women’s minds off the recent trouble.

  “I’m serious. What about you guys?”

  Everyone agreed.

  “Anyone invited other than the women?” Ruth asked.

  “Just the women,” Katie confirmed.

  The change of pace would be nice. The women could practice their drama as the election approached. Thanksgiving would come and then Christmas. That’s what they needed. This sleuth stuff was taxing.

  Fifteen

  November ushered in cold winds and the reminder that winter, if not by calendar date but by nippy winds, had come.

  Katie shivered on the way to the barn as the cold north wind sliced through her heavy jacket. She’d have to depend on typing work from now until spring. Winter and its additional fuel bills grabbed her concentration. Propane had nearly doubled in price this year. However, wood was plentiful. Downed trees alone would heat the downstairs, but someone had to cut it.

  Katie missed Warren. He hadn’t been around much lately. If she could get him to open up to her, to tell her what rattled him so much about women, then maybe, just maybe, things between them would be different. Or was that only wishful thinking?

  The latter, Katie thought. But it hurt to think he’d walked away from her and her problems when she desperately needed him.

  You’re content with God’s timing. You don’t need a man tomake you happy.

  She was content, and now wasn’t the time to doubt God’s wisdom, and yet lately she’d began to wonder why Warren fascinated her. Certainly it wasn’t his sunny disposition, because he didn’t have one. Good looks could only take a man so far. The excuse that he’d been wounded by another woman was getting a little thin, even with her. At times she wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him and say, “Grow up!” Anyone who lived long enough would encounter disappointments and betrayal. Katie had come to realize these things were life, and you had to get a grip and pray for sunnier days.

  Then other days her thoughts would soften and think that Warren’s reticence was her fault. If she wasn’t so stupid, if she knew how to stick to a simple budget, he wouldn’t be so cranky.

  You’re not ignorant.

  Then what made him so distant? What made Warren drop her like a hot iron when the relationship was going well? Tentative, but well.

  A truck pulled into the drive, breaking Katie’s concentration. The vet got out, her hair blowing in the light breeze. “Hello there!”

  Katie fell into step, and the two women chatted on the way to the barn.

  “How’re the horses today?”

  “Well on their way to good health.” Katie hated to admit it, because admitting it would mean losing the animals, and she and the women had fallen in love with the horses. The injured souls had provided therapy that Katie couldn’t buy.

  “That’s good to hear.”

  The horses looked up when the women entered the barn. Sweet Tea snuffed, bobbing her head. Katie stepped over to greet her while the vet began work.

  “The wounds are healing nicely,” she called. “Looks like you’ve been doing your job.”

  Katie ruffled Sweet Tea’s mane. “The women have done more than me. They’ve been a real help.”

  It had taken willpower to stay clear of the horses as often as she could, and Katie rarely found the barn empty. Meg had practically moved in, overseeing the horses’ water and feed. It was as if by nurturing the horses she was healing her wounds.

  A half hour later, Katie accompanied the vet to her car. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. I don’t know how I would afford a vet bill.”

  “My pleasure.” She paused and removed her gloves. “I’ve loved horses all my life. They nourish my soul. I can’t say that about all animals, though ironically, I love all animals.” She sighed as if she didn’t understand the statement herself. “Another week and they’ll be ready to travel.”

  Katie ignored the painful twinge. “One week?”

  “Maybe two or three. It all depends on what develops the next few days.” They walked on. “I could stretch it a little, but I know the feed bills are eating you alive.”

  “They are,” Katie admitted. For once she was going to use common sense. The horses had to go sometime. “Just let me keep them as long as possible,” she conceded. “I understand that the owner has been in contact with you?”

  The vet chuckled. “Daily. But you don’t need to worry. The lady loves the animals. She’s just not in the position to care for them, so she’s arranged for a longtime friend to keep them until nature takes its course.”

  Overhead a helicopter came into view, the whip-whop of blades interrupting the conversation.

  “Thanks again.” Katie held the truck door open as the vet climbed inside, waved, and drove off. The whip-whop grew louder as Katie started back to the house.r />
  The helicopter suddenly dipped lower, zeroing in on the house. Panic seized Katie. Clara. The press found her.

  Breaking into a run, she raced to the house and burst into the kitchen.

  “Where’s Clara?”

  Tottie came out of the laundry room. “She was in her room last I knew.”

  Meg appeared in the doorway. “What’s happening?”

  “It’s the press. They’ve discovered Clara’s whereabouts.”

  One by one the women came to investigate, faces taut with the developing situation.

  “It’s okay.” Katie went to the living area and jerked back the curtains. “They’re after Clara, not you. Stay hidden.”

  Ruth wrung her hands. “My husband can’t know that I’m here — he’ll come after me. We were supposed to be safe. Katie, you promised.”

  “No one is going to know you’re here.” Katie drew the tremulous woman close to her side. “I’ll take care of this — and you.” After giving Ruth an assuring hug, she turned to the others. “Go to your rooms and stay there until it’s safe to come out.”

  The room emptied, and Katie turned back to Tottie. “What do we do?”

  “We stay put and let the sheriff and state police handle it.”

  “I’ll call Ben.” She wanted to call Warren so desperately, but she wouldn’t.

  Tottie stepped to the window, her eyes scanning the quiet yard. “I don’t think Ben needs to be told that something big is up.”

  How had the media found out? On second thought, Clara hadn’t been all that careful. But Katie couldn’t believe anyone in Little Bush would alert the media about Candlelight’s high-profile guest.

  “I’ll get Clara.” Katie headed for the politician’s room and found it empty. She located Clara on the small side porch, smoking a cigarette.

  “What are you doing out here? Get inside.” Didn’t the woman have the sense God gave a goose?

  Clara ground out the cigarette underfoot. “Is all this fuss over me?”

  “That would be my guess.” Katie eyed her stringently. “Does that concern you?”

  Clara brushed past Katie and entered her ground floor bedroom. “What do we do now?” Fear tinged her voice. Katie wished she knew. In the years the shelter had been in operation, other than the one incident involving her and Ed Mathis, nothing like this had happened. She’d never had a victim with Clara’s high profile, but she should have known it was only a matter of time before someone learned the politician’s location. Days before a midterm election, the news of Clara’s tragic personal life would be a late November surprise that opponents longed for, and it had just been laid in their lap.