By His Hand: Truly Yours Digital Edition

by Jennifer Johnson

  And yet she had.

  Maybe he should have talked to Abby about it. Maybe both of them should have talked. Maybe he came down too hard on her. And the truth was Victoria seemed to be filling a spot in Abby’s life that had needed filled for quite some time. He never tried to be Abby’s mom or dad, but maybe he hadn’t been as open with her as he should have been.

  God, show me how to reach my sister. Show me how to be a better brother. He thought of Victoria and the angry expression on her face when she slammed his truck door. He took a deep breath as he realized how much it hurt to have Victoria upset with him. Show me how to make amends with Victoria, too.

  Victoria gazed up at the cold, stone structure. The courthouse’s aged exterior didn’t make her think of justice, it scared her. And why did every courthouse she’d ever seen look like some smaller version of the White House? She had probably read or heard the reason at some point in school, but she couldn’t recall it. At the moment, she didn’t care much about past history lessons. She wanted to get her vehicle back.

  She opened her handbag and checked for the hundredth time to be sure proof of the six-month insurance plan was still inside. Sondra had already found out what Victoria’s court cost would be, so she checked again to be sure she had enough for it. Looking through her wallet, she found her driver’s license in its correct place, as well.

  I’m as ready as I’m going to be. She inhaled and walked up the steps. After opening the heavy half-glass–half-wood door, she walked inside. Her heels clicked against the concrete floor, making the empty, enormous hall seem all the more overwhelming.

  A door on her left had a sign that read CIRCUIT CLERK. To her right, she saw doors that read VEHICLE REGISTRATION and DRIVER’S LICENSE. I don’t think I’m supposed to go to any of those. She grabbed the ticket Sheriff Troy had given her out of her bag. She was supposed to go to district court.

  Scanning her left and right, she didn’t see any doors that mentioned anything about a courthouse. Wishing she hadn’t been so adamant with Sondra about not coming to allow Peewee and Emily to take their naps, Victoria walked back to the front of the building where she spied a staircase with a sign that announced district and circuit courts were held upstairs. She sighed in relief, gripped the handrail, and willed herself to scale the flight of stairs.

  A few months ago I would have never dreamed I’d be doing this. At that time she’d been shopping in malls, spending any amount of money she chose on a pair of shoes or a perfect purse. She might have been out to lunch with her mother at the most expensive restaurants. Never would she have been going to court to get her Suburban back. She’d never even stepped foot in a courthouse.

  God, I am absolutely terrified. Please let this go well. Let the judge be kind to me. Please let it be over quick.

  It had been humiliating to have to take half a day off work for this when she’d been employed less than two months. Of course, Zack had been kind about it. In fact, he was kind about everything. Victoria still found herself drawn to him, and she felt certain he had almost asked her out on a couple of occasions, but their conversations had been interrupted by an employee or a customer.

  It was a mystery she didn’t understand, but somehow she didn’t quite feel a romantic connection with Zack. At first, she would have given anything to have him ask her out. Zack had everything she’d ever dreamed of in a partner, and yet there didn’t seem to be a spark between them. Yes, that was what she missed—the spark, that yearning-all-day-to-see-you-again feeling. Though she loved to see Zack, loved to talk with him, she just didn’t seem to have the happily-ever-after feelings.

  But then, I’ve always been known to be a bit dramatic. Didn’t Mother always say I lived in my own fairy-tale land all my life? She smiled at the remembrance of playing dress-up in her princess outfit as a girl. Kenny would begrudgingly pretend to be her prince.

  I probably wouldn’t know real love anyway. And doesn’t the Bible tell us not to trust our emotions? Zack is perfect for me. A picture of Chris popped into her mind, and she shook her head. I need to focus on getting my Suburban back.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, Victoria found the district courtroom and walked in. More people than she had anticipated sat in wooden benches facing the mound of wood the judge sat behind. Sliding into a pew beside an older woman and a small boy, Victoria looked around, surprised at the ornate features in the room. Flowers and loops and fancy shapes had been sculpted into the stone along the walls and ceiling. Three enormous, antique chandeliers hung in a row from the middle of the ceiling. The room screamed of history, and Victoria found herself wondering about the people who had sat in her very seat years and years before her.

  She gazed up at the man seated at the front, the judge she’d dreaded for several weeks. He did seem to be as gentle as a puppy. His face hung in wrinkles, reminding her of a Bassett hound. Not a single hair topped his head, except the gray circle that wrapped around just above his ears. He looked like a grandpa, a cuddly, friendly grandpa.

  “Betty, Bobby,” the judge spoke to a young couple in a slow, soft voice, “I can’t give you your van back.”

  “But Judge Henry, I haven’t been able to get to work,” the man responded.

  The judge shook his head. “Bobby, I spoke with your pa last night. He said he’d been offering you rides and you wouldn’t take them.”

  “But …”

  “No buts. You can’t have your vehicle back until you have insurance. That’s the law.”

  “Judge …”

  “Now listen, son.” Judge Henry leaned forward. Concern wrapped his features. “You two have yourselves a little one now. It’s time to grow up, Bobby.”

  “I am grown.” Bobby puffed out his chest.

  “Then take care of your family. It’s time, Bobby.” The judge leaned back. “Tell you what I’ll do. Seeing how I’ve known you since you were toddling around the courthouse steps, you come back in two weeks. If you’ve gone to work every day, I’ll even sport you half of what you need for three months worth of insurance.”

  “Thank you, Judge Henry.” Betty smiled. “I’ll see to it he gets to work every day.”

  Bobby grumbled but didn’t say anything else as he followed Betty out of the courtroom. Victoria leaned back in the pew. I think Chris was right. The judge seems like a very kind man. She watched as Judge Henry dealt with a few more cases before hers. Finally, her name was called.

  Standing, she felt the ease slip from her body as her stomach twisted with nervousness. Her heels clicked louder than ever as she made her way toward the front. The judge peered down at his paper, and then at her. “Victoria Thankful, I presume.”

  Her voice squeaked. “Yes, sir.”

  A slow smile formed on his lips. “No need to be nervous, dear. I’m Judge Henry. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She nodded and willed her hands and legs not to shake.

  The judge leaned back in his chair. “So you’re the Mary Ann Mutilator.”

  “I thought it was Mangler.”

  Judge Henry laughed and smacked the top of the podium. “I think I’ve heard it both ways. So have you made arrangements with Chris yet?”

  Dread filled her stomach. “Not yet, sir.”

  “No need to worry. He didn’t press any charges, and he’s a good man. He’ll give you time.”

  She nodded, praying the judge would hurry. She felt the stares of everyone in the courtroom. Swallowing, she feared she might lose her breakfast at any moment.

  “Do you have your license and proof of insurance?”

  “Yes, sir.” She took the papers from her purse and handed them to him.

  He read through her insurance papers and frowned. “You didn’t have insurance at the time of the accident.”

  “No, sir. My”—she cleared her throat—“my insurance policy had run out, and I wasn’t aware of it.”

  “Hmm.” He shuffled through the papers again and then glanced up at her. “Technically, I can cite you for not havi
ng insurance at the time of the wreck, but since Chris didn’t press charges and you made arrangements to get insurance so quickly, I’ll let it go.”

  Relief flooded her heart. “Thank you so much, sir.”

  “You will have court fees.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  He handed the papers back to her. “Well, young lady, I think I’ll send you on your way. You can pay your fees downstairs and walk next door to the sheriff’s office to get the keys to your vehicle.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You have a good day, Ms. Victoria Thankful.”

  “Victoria Thankful?” A male voice sounded from the back of the room. “Are you Victoria Thankful, the daughter of Thomas Thankful?”

  Victoria peered at the back of the room. Her feet seemed to freeze beneath her as she didn’t recognize the man.

  “Well,” he continued, “are you the daughter of the man whose business name was Marcus George?” He walked toward her. “The man who was an oil magnate caught embezzling money?”

  “Young fellow, what are you talking about?” asked Judge Henry.

  “Your Honor, I’m just wondering if Thomas Thankful is her father.”

  Victoria’s heels nearly fell out from beneath her. She grabbed the nearest pew and looked away from her accuser. The gazes of more than twenty people glowered at her. Most seemed confused. A few had already recognized the name and seemed downright angry.

  “Well, I …”

  “Are you?” The black-haired man’s face would have been handsome except for the expression of contempt that wrapped his features. “My cousin was supporting his wife and four children on the income he made from working at a Thomas Thankful’s oiling company. When the man was found to be embezzling money and decided to evade the law and run off to who-knows-where, my cousin lost his job. And now he’s about to lose his home.”

  Judge Henry hit the podium with his gavel. “That’s enough. Victoria is not on trial about her father, in any way, shape, or form.”

  Tears filled Victoria’s eyes. She had been devastated by her father’s actions and so consumed with her own dilemmas because of them that she hadn’t really considered the families that had been affected by her father’s misdeeds.

  “He has a daughter.” The man had reached her side. He whispered, “Are you her?”

  A tear spilled down Victoria’s cheek, and she peered at the ground. “I am.”

  With all the energy she could muster, she fled amidst the murmurings of everyone in the room. Running down the stairs, she composed herself and made her way to the correct office to pay her fee. No one followed her. They’re probably all discussing the many ways Daddy hurt families they knew. God, how could I have been so selfish not to think of the pain he’d caused others?

  Swallowing back her imminent spilling of emotion, she made her way to the sheriff’s office, got her keys, and found her Suburban. With the turn of the ignition, the dam of her heart broke and tears spilled from her eyes. How much devastation had her father caused? Pain for that family, pain for other families, and pain for her own life seemed to stab at her insides. Why, God? Why did Daddy do this?

  twelve

  “Hi, Abby.” Chris walked into the kitchen to find Abby sitting at the kitchen table peeling potatoes. His sister’s transformation had been amazing since Victoria started visiting. She hadn’t gotten her hair cut as yet, but Victoria had taught Abby how to wear her face paint a coat or two lighter. Chris had forgotten that his little sister’s lips were actually pink in color and not some funky dark shade of purple.

  “Hey, big brother.” Abby half smiled, but her voice sounded distraught. “Have you seen the paper?”

  He shook his head and opened the refrigerator. After grabbing a water bottle and an apple, he sat down at the table across from his sister and picked up the weekly newspaper. “Anything happen this week?”

  Abby huffed. “You could say that.”

  Chris frowned. It must have been pretty big news to capture Abby’s attention. The girl only flipped through the pages to find the TV guide. He started to skim the front page. An accident on the other side of town with injuries. Another water advisory notice and some town council suggestions on what to do about its continual reoccurrences.

  “Look at the bottom,” said Abby.

  Chris opened the page to its full length. He almost choked on his apple when he saw a picture of Victoria leaving the courthouse. The caption above it read, “EMBEZZLER AMONG Us?”

  “It’s Victoria,” said Abby. Chris looked up to see his sister’s eyes pooled with tears. She placed the potato peeler on the table and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You and I both know she’s not an embezzler.”

  Chris tried to skim through the article, but tears raced down Abby’s cheeks so he lowered the paper and touched the top of her hand.

  “She doesn’t even have the money to pay you for Mary Ann. She’s not a criminal.” Abby pulled a tissue from her jeans pocket and wiped her nose.

  “What does it say exactly?”

  “Remember that guy they showed on all the stations who’d taken money from his oil companies?”

  Chris thought back to the news stories a few months ago about an oil magnate who had embezzled money from his company, but that guy’s name wasn’t Thankful. What was that guy’s name? It was George, somebody George. “But that’s not her dad,” said Chris. “That man’s last name was George.”

  Abby shook her head. “No, George was his business name.” She stood and walked toward the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m afraid Victoria will want to leave.” She covered her face with her hands. “I need her here.” She ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Chris’s heart pounded with uncertainty. Maybe he should try to talk to Abby. But what would he say? He didn’t even know what was going on. Besides, he didn’t know how to talk to Abby. That had been their problem since long before Mom left. He glanced at the bathroom door where Sassy-Girl had already made her appearance. She pawed at the door just as Chris heard the water running in the shower.

  Sighing, he picked up the paper and read through the article. This can’t be right. He scratched his chin and read through it once more. He rolled up the paper and stuck it under his arm. There’s only one way to find out the truth of all this. Grabbing his keys, he walked to the bathroom door. “I’ll be back, Abby. Go ahead and fix supper. I’ll find out what’s going on.”

  The door opened. A towel was wrapped around Abby’s head, and a much-too-big robe hung from her small frame. Her face had been scrubbed clean and shiny, but her eyes were still red and swollen. She didn’t say anything; she just sighed deeply and then looked up at him. Her expression begged him to make it all better.

  An urge he hadn’t had in months filled him. Without thinking, he grabbed Abby into a tight hug. Sobs overtook her, and she cried into his shoulder. He combed her hair with his fingers and held her tight. She drove him crazy, but God had blessed him with his little sister. God had also given him the job of taking care of her. With Victoria’s help, he now realized that meant providing more than food and clothes. Sometimes it meant a hug, a compliment, a promise. “It’s going to be all right. I’m not letting her go anywhere.”

  Abby peered up at him. “Promise?”

  He closed his eyes, overwhelmed with a mixture of feelings. Loss for his dad. Loss for his mom. A real need not to lose Victoria. Suddenly he understood how much all of it felt to Abby, too. “I’ll do my best.”

  His mind spun in a whirl as he drove to the Wards’ ranch. Was Victoria a fraud like her father? The reports about Mr. George’s dealings with employees and business partners had been appalling. He thought of how upset Victoria had been when he’d given her his estimates to fix Mary Ann. In his gut, he knew she had been genuine in her want to make amends for the accident.

  After pulling into the driveway, he yanked the keys out of the ignition and scaled the steps up the porch. Before he had
time to knock, Sondra opened the door. Her lips parted in a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes.

  “Where is she?” Chris asked.

  “At the bank.” Sondra motioned for Chris to come inside. “I just laid the kids down. We can talk.”

  Chris followed her into the house. The sweet smell of fresh-cut roses filled his nostrils as he walked into her kitchen and saw a vase full sitting on her table. Dylan leaned against the counter taking a swig from his coffee mug. Upon seeing Chris, Dylan put the cup down and offered his hand. “Good to see you.”

  Chris barely shook it before he took the paper from under his arm and opened it. “What’s this about? Is it true?”

  “It’s true.”

  “But Victoria. What does that mean about Victoria? Is she a fraud? Has she been lying to us since she got here?”

  Dylan crossed his arms in front of his chest while Sondra sat at the table. She looked up at Chris. He could tell her gaze searched him at the depths of his being. “What do you think, Chris? You’ve been around Victoria. Do you think she’s a fraud?”

  Chris frowned. Sondra’s words were not said in accusation or malice. They were formed—stated exactly and perfectly. She was asking him to decide within himself what he knew to be true.

  His mind played reels of moments he’d spent with Victoria. He drifted to the day he found Abby and Victoria working in the garden. He thought of the time she had deposited his money at the bank. He saw her with Peewee in her arms the first time she’d met the little guy. “No. She’s not a fraud.” With the words spoken aloud, Chris knew without reservation they were true. “What did happen?”

  “Mama, I no feel good.”

  Chris glanced toward the hall just as Peewee vomited all over the floor. Sondra hopped up and ran to him as Dylan grabbed paper towels from the cabinet. Scooping up the boy, Sondra raced to the sink as another bout of sickness came. Chris looked over to find Dylan gagging as he wiped up the mess from the floor.