“I suppose that’s the reason.”
“I’m not saying it’s right to hit a woman, but Clara might have had it coming.”
She sat straight up. “You’re not serious.”
“Settle down, I didn’t mean that in a threatening way, but some women can get real aggravating, Katie. You have to know that.”
“And a man can’t? I don’t care how aggravating a woman —or a man becomes, no one has the right to use physical force. When you say things like that, Warren, I have to wonder where your mind is. I know you’ve been hurt by a woman. But you can’t judge all women by your bad experience, and I really would appreciate it if you would stop making these kinds of remarks.”
He chuckled, reaching out to soothe her. “That shelter is really a hot button with you, isn’t it?”
“Violence, any violence against another person, is a hot button with me.” Sometimes she plain didn’t understand this man, and she was starting to wonder if she even cared to.
“You don’t know the women’s personal lives. You’re meddling. If you stayed out of it, women like Clara would have to stay home and change their ways. They’d be forced to make their relationships work. Isn’t that what God wants? A woman to stay with her man?”
Katie fumbled for her shoes, the fun evening suddenly not so fun. Warren caught her hand and stopped her. “Close the shelter. I have a bad feeling about that place, Katie. Please listen to me. Right or wrong, you can’t change the way people think. Close the shelter before someone closes it for you. If not Neil Townsend, then someone else will come after you. Get out while you can.”
A ripple of fear snaked up her spine, and for once she was tempted to consider his dire warning. Perhaps he did care, and in some strange way he sensed danger where she didn’t. The thought scared her even more than the gravity of his tone.
Twenty-One
Late that night, the women gathered around the television set focused on the talking heads predicting a landslide victory for Clara. From the way they gloated, you’d have thought the woman walked on water. The scene shifted to an earlier time, showing a group of steel workers. Meg jabbed a finger toward the set. “There’s Clara.”
“Where?” Janet leaned closer. “Oh, I see. Looks nice, doesn’t she?”
She did indeed. Every hair coiffed, makeup perfect, poised and confident. She looked nothing like the woman who had caused so much upheaval. A reporter shoved a microphone close to her mouth. “Mrs. Townsend, if you’re reelected will you see this as vindication of the accusations made against you?”
Clara smiled, Reese’s-Pieces sweet. “I believe the American people know that I knew nothing about my husband’s behavior. I’m deeply ashamed of what he has done and pray he will learn from his mistakes. You know, I can only say that if I had known, I’d have been the first to do something about it. If the people vote to send me back to the Senate, I’ll represent them the best I know how.”
“Smooth as butter, isn’t she?” Tottie said with a tinge of admiration coloring her voice. “Never would have thought she could pull it off, but I think the polls are correct. She’s going to be reelected. Philpot doesn’t stand a chance.”
Katie watched as Clara used all her charm to convince the reporters, and by extension, the voters, of her complete innocence. Charm oozed from every pore. Well, it was over, and Clara wouldn’t dominate every newscast. Katie expected to be relieved, but to her surprise, she was too numb to feel anything. It had been so long since she felt safe. The feeling would take some getting used to.
Clara disappeared from the screen to be replaced by a blonde with long, straight hair whipping in the breeze. “As the polls begin to close, Neil Townsend is out on bail, but he will be facing numerous charges …”
“Big deal,” Meg chortled. “He’ll buy his way out.”
Katie shook her head. “I don’t think so, Meg. Not this time.”
Ruth agreed. “But you know what, I hope Clara wins.”
Meg shrugged. “I know she was hard to get along with, but she was sorta cool in her own way.”
“She put up a big front,” Janet said.
Katie passed a bowl of popcorn. “Why do you think that?”
“Because she spent a lot of time on the side porch, and she wasn’t always smoking. Sometimes she just sat and looked out over the landscape. She enjoyed the quiet.”
Tottie shoved out of her chair. “She’s better off in Washington. Maybe we can get back to normal now, whatever normal is.”
Katie tuned out her surroundings. She hadn’t heard from Ben today, and she wondered why. Now that the crisis had passed, had he decided to take her at her word and leave her alone? That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?
That’s what she’d wanted earlier. Now she wasn’t so certain. Warren was getting to be more sarcastic than fun —
Katie! You’re losing it. Concentrate on Warren’s attributes.
Meg switched on the television before the women sat down to breakfast the next morning. Tottie looked up from the stove and frowned. “I’ll be glad when this election thing dies down. That’s all those news people can talk about. Surely there’s more than that going on in the world. Looks like the weather is going to turn bad again. Why don’t they tell us more about that?”
“They will.” Katie stuck a piece of whole wheat in the toaster. “Who runs our government is important — oh, by the way, Clara won.”
Tottie sniffed. “Could have told you that.”
For the life of Katie, she didn’t know what Tottie had seen in Clara Townsend. She was usually a better judge of character. But then Tottie admired strong women.
“Hey, look at this,” Meg called and Katie and Tottie left the kitchen to join the others. There was Clara, shaking hands with factory workers and handing out coffee and doughnuts.
“Making like a real politician, isn’t she?” Meg rubbed her protruding stomach. “Got to hand it to her, she knows how to make an impression.”
Katie eyed the televised image, wondering how Clara managed to look so perfectly put together at that hour of the morning. She was accepting her victory like a seasoned trooper. “I’m going into town this morning. Need anything, Tottie?”
Tottie returned to the kitchen and tore a sheet of paper off her scratch pad. “Here’s my list. Don’t buy anything that isn’t on the list, and for the love of mercy, don’t go near Warehouse Blowout.”
Katie folded the list and tucked it into her jean pocket.
“Look, there’s Clara again,” Janet said. “I’ll say one thing for her; she sure knows how to get around.”
This clip showed Clara in front of a battered women’s shelter. She peered into the camera, projecting an image of sincerity. “Believe me, I know what these women are dealing with. I’ve been there, and I promise them and you that I will do all I can to initiate stronger and more forcible legislation against wife batterers.”
“You go, girl,” Meg said.
Katie had another take on it. She resented what Clara was doing. It was one thing to try to win an election but something else entirely to use women who had been abused to elicit future votes.
“They shouldn’t have shown that,” Ruth said. “That’s two shelters that have been revealed because of politics. Don’t they care about the women who are there?”
“Probably not,” Janet said. “We’re not important. Just flotsam washed up on the shore.”
She sounded bitter, and Katie knew she was thinking of her husband and the way he fooled people into thinking he was kind and compassionate. Now he was living a normal life and Janet was in hiding, trying to put her life back together. And she was right. It wasn’t fair, but then life seldom was.
Later Katie braked in front of the grocery store. She stuck to the list and finished in less than fifteen minutes. She carried her purchases out to the jeep, which she locked from force of habit. A cold wind blew in heavy sleet then snow. By the time she left the market, the streets glistened with the wintry mix.
/> Katie spotted Jodi Weller, Bobbi’s mom, parallel parking. They stopped to talk under the shelter of a shop’s awning. “I was going to vote one way,” Jodi said. “But after listening to Philpot, I changed my mind and voted for Clara.”
Clara might have made a bad impression on the shelter women, but the sentiment hadn’t carried over to others, Katie realized.
“You know her, Katie. Don’t you think she’s been badly mistreated?”
Katie was spared answering by Warren, who stepped over the curb to join them. “Nasty weather, isn’t it? How are you ladies this morning?”
Jodi grinned. “Good, thank you. I trust the election results went your way?”
Warren’s face turned expressionless. “Never talk politics or religion, ladies.” Jodi left and Warren fell into step with Katie.
“Sometimes I think we made a mistake when we gave women the vote.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
He grinned, reaching over to tug her nose. “Touchy, are we? Your candidate won.”
Katie shook her head and smiled. She didn’t tell him she’d voted against Clara. She had great empathy for the woman’s plight, but her compassion didn’t bleed over into politics.
Warren continued to the barbershop, and Katie stopped at the cleaners, gave a covetous glance at the coffee shop, and then started back to the ranch.
A heavy wind rocked the jeep. The wipers could barely keep up with the mixture of wintry precipitation falling from the sullen sky. Katie checked the mailbox, shifted to four-wheel drive, and barely made it up the incline leading to the farmhouse. A light glowed in the kitchen window. She smiled, recalling the reason why she’d named the shelter Candlelight. The old house gave off an ambience, a gentle refuge from life’s furious storms. This afternoon the sight welcomed her, and she knew how the women must have felt the day they arrived. All except Clara. What had Clara felt or thought? Had she grieved over a husband who beat her, or was she indifferent to pain? She had never shed a tear or uttered a single sympathetic comment to others unfortunate enough to walk her path. Don’t judge. Sometimes it was a tough command.
The milk of human kindness had dried up in Clara Townsend. She wet nursed no one.
Katie sniffed the air as she got out of the jeep. Roast. Tottie was cooking dinner — new potatoes, carrots, and cheesecake for dessert. The women took turns picking dessert. Tonight Meg had the honors, and for sure there would be a cherry cheesecake with nine hundred calories in a slice languishing in the refrigerator.
How did the Golden Girls on the television sitcom eat so much cheesecake and not gain an ounce?
Lugging heavy grocery sacks up the slippery walk, Katie decided she should have pulled the jeep closer. Tire tracks wouldn’t gouge the grass this time of year, and it would’ve made her job a lot easier. She was glad the horses were safely back home and in their warm stalls. Even Sweet Tea was inside the barn out of the driving wind.
After dinner, the storm raged around the eaves while the women washed and dried dishes. Katie suggested a game of dominos afterwards. A shutter banged against the siding on the back of the house, grating on her nerves. So many needed repairs and so few funds to make them.
Janet raised her head from contemplating a play. “Good thing the reporters aren’t out in this. I didn’t like having them here, but I wouldn’t wish them any harm.”
Katie reflected on just how downright nice these three women were. Warren was wrong. Maybe some women gave as well as they got, but others were pure victims. Meg shifted in a hard-backed chair, touching her rounded belly.
“Dominos giving you a pain?” Katie teased.
“No.” She winced. “Just can’t find a comfortable position.”
Janet was down to her last domino. “Want me to rub your back?”
Meg smiled but declined. “I’m fine. I think I’ll take a hot bath and go to bed early.”
Ruth pushed back. “I’m with you. I couldn’t get a good hand if I bought one.” She paused, cocking an ear, listening. “Does anyone hear that?”
Katie looked up. “Hear what?” Calm down. The threat isover. If there is a sound, it’s wind-or storm-related.
We’re all safe now.
“That soft … creak. Like someone coming up the basement stairs.”
Eyes pivoted to the closed basement door. Katie thought of the owl incident and grimaced.
Ruth pursed her lips. “I’ve heard it twice now. Hasn’t anyone else heard it?”
“Loose shutters,” Tottie admonished. “They’ve been banging all over the place. Have you just noticed?”
Meg pushed her empty chair up to the table. “I guess we can relax now.”
“We can. The threat is over,” Katie promised.
Janet shook her head. “No … not shutters. I heard that — the other sound.”
Eyes swept the room double-checking locked windows before returning to Ruth. Katie spoke first. “I haven’t noticed anything. What’s it sound like exactly?”
Meg’s facial features suddenly twisted, and she sucked in a quick breath. “Wow. I’m not sure, but that might have been a labor pain.”
“Too soon!” Ruth blurted.
Tottie held up a calming hand. “Lightening — that’s what they call it. It’s the baby slipping into the birth canal. The birth is still weeks away.”
Meg visibly relaxed, rubbing her belly. “Hurts.”
The observation induced nervous laughter.
“Let’s all get some rest.” Tottie gathered up dirty glasses and set them in the sink. “If you have any trouble during the night, call me, Meg. I’m just two doors away.”
Katie agreed. “The same goes for me. Call me if you need me.”
“Thanks — I will.” She winced and blew out short puffs. “Hurts, hurts, hurts!”
Katie turned out the living room lights, sparing a moment to peek out. The world was ice coated. Beautiful, but so treacherous. A horrible night to rush someone to the hospital to give birth. She dismissed the unthinkable. If anyone knew pregnancy, it was Tottie, and if she said the baby was slipping into the birth canal, Katie wasn’t going to argue. She didn’t know where babies went prior to birth.
The house quieted quickly. Katie crawled between floral-smelling flannel sheets and stretched for the hot-water bottle. She liked to tease that it was a true lesson in faith when people reached out and their needs were met. Tottie had found a good ministry — hot water. Katie closed her eyes, luxuriating in the moist warmth.
A shutter banged and her eyes flew open. Ruth. What had she been saying about a second noise? They hadn’t explored the issue because of Meg’s sudden discomfort. Had she heard something other than the loose shutter?
Get a grip. The threat is over. All is well. Normalcy at Candlelight Shelter had been restored. The noise was probably just ice-coated tree limbs creaking from the weight.
But Katie still strained every fiber, alert to imagined or real jeopardy. Wind howled through brittle branches. Sleet slapped windowpanes.
All is well. Go to sleep.
It was after one when she finally dropped into a fitful doze and dreamed of a faceless, shadowed figure who meant to harm her in some way. She struggled through snowdrifts, buffeted by the wind, and always followed by that macabre shadow …
An icy hand touched her shoulder, and she bolted upright, screaming.
A tremulous voice jerked her fully awake. “Don’t, Katie. It’s me.”
Katie fumbled for the bedside lamp, her heart pounding against her chest wall. The sudden glare of light revealed Meg standing beside the bed, her face as white as her robe. Outside, the storm growled, though surely with a decreased intensity.
Katie reached out to the trembling woman. “What is it, Meg? The baby?”
Meg shook her head, appearing to be on the verge of tears. “It’s my room. Oh, Katie …”
“Your room?” What was in her room that would upset her this way? Katie swung her legs over the edge of the bed
, groping for her slippers. She reached for her robe, pulling it close around her shoulders. The blowing wind funneled through every tiny crack in the old farmhouse.
Katie put her arm around Meg. “Don’t worry. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”
“I’m not sure you can.”
Katie didn’t pursue the topic. Obviously Meg was having a fitful night. An icy wind whistled around her bare legs. Where was a draft this strong coming from? As soon as she reached Meg’s room, she had the answer. Wind and snow poured through a hole in the roof. Pieces of shingles and other debris lay on the floor. Katie put out one hand to touch the doorframe for support. The roof had collapsed. Was the weight of ice and snow that heavy? If so, was the rest of the house in danger?
Janet, Ruth, and Tottie bolted into the room, drawn by the freezing cold and the lash of wind. “Oh my.” Janet clutched her robe to her neck. “How did this happen?”
Tottie swung into action. “Get towels and blankets. We’ll sop up the worse of it. I’ll get the broom and the kitchen trashcan and start cleaning up the mess. Watch out for nails and splinters. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“I’m going to put on something warmer, and then I’ll be back,” Ruth said. “No point in all of us getting sick.”
Katie nodded. “Good idea. Let’s all put on warm clothing and shoes. This mess isn’t going anywhere. It will be here when we get back.”
It wasn’t like anyone was going to sleep after this.
Katie hurried to her room to pull on jeans and a warm sweatshirt. While she was tying her shoes, she heard the furnace kick on. Well, of course. With the storm turning Meg’s bedroom into a winter wonderland, the mechanical device would kick in. She added the cost of propane to roof repairs.
And where was she supposed to come up with all the money? Warren’s budget didn’t grant any leeway for a collapsed roof and a drained propane tank.
When Katie reached Meg’s room, the others were already busy. Tottie was down on her hands and knees mopping icy water. “I turned the thermostat down as much as I could, and if we close the door and put a blanket across the bottom, maybe we can keep most of the cold in this room.”
Now and Always Page 15
