Wildflower Redemption

by Leslie P. García

  This time, though, knowing she was fully clothed, she let him help her up, and they tiptoed to the kitchen like teenagers escaping watchful parents.

  The irony wasn’t lost on Luz. “We’re hiding from a six-year-old! I feel silly and a little embarrassed!”

  He chuckled. “Me, too.”

  “So I guess you got a lot of practice sneaking away from your parents to see some girl?” she asked lightly, pulling out the salad and left over pizza. “You did want food?” she asked, remembering how much the three of them had eaten while they watched videos and played games that Chloe invented as they went.

  “Not really,” he admitted, and stretched a little, then rubbed an arm. “I’m getting old, or else that bag is. I don’t remember floors being that hard.”

  “Right?” She bit back a comment about the part of her that felt bruised. He might decide to be helpful and massage her hip. “So, no answer on sneaking out of the house?”

  Some of the humor faded from his face, and he seemed to be thinking back. Finally he shook his head. “Not really,” he answered. “I didn’t live with my parents, and my aunt hadn’t ever married. She didn’t pay much attention to what I did or didn’t do.”

  That surprised her. He clearly doted on his daughter; and in her experience, here in Rose Creek, at school in Atlanta—everywhere—parents who loved their children like that had been loved by their own parents.

  They settled into chairs and she poked at the salad she’d served herself. “You lost your parents?”

  His laugh grated. “No. They just had—have—other priorities. They traveled my entire life. Foreign service, low-level diplomats. Then they emigrated to Europe. They’ve lived in England, France, and Germany. They work for a travel company now.”

  “But they didn’t take you with them?”

  “No. I spent a few weeks a year with them when I was young. Occasionally they’d come stateside. But they love each other, and they’re happy.” He swallowed a piece of pepperoni he’d picked off the pizza. “And my aunt loved me. But she treated me more or less like a grown-up all my life. I never had to sneak anywhere—I just told her hello and goodbye when we crossed paths.”

  They sat in silence for a bit, not really eating, but not talking. Luz glanced at the clock on the stove. Almost three, which surprised her. She hadn’t noticed the time flying by. Eventually, though, when he said nothing else, she had to ask.

  “Aaron, what about Chloe? They’ve met her?”

  He pushed his plate aside and stood up, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “No.”

  “I’m sorry I asked. I—”

  He forced a smile. “I’m not angry that you asked. Anyone would. Chloe has.”

  “But—”

  “They’ve called. They sent us a present when she was born. They bought some beautiful baby clothes. And they sent her some savings bonds. But they said they didn’t know when they’d get home. I haven’t seen them since we buried my aunt four years ago.”

  There really weren’t any words, so Luz just sat silently. How much pain did one family deserve? First, the empty childhood, the unloving parents—now grandparents—and then the loss of the woman who loved him. Chloe’s loss of her mother. She drew in her breath and bit into her lip to keep from showing her anger for him. And her hurt.

  “You know what makes it even worse?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to hear that it could be worse. But if he’d been hesitant to talk before, now he seemed to need to. He gripped one of his hands with the other, as if trying to keep them from forming fists, from pounding the walls enclosing them.

  “Stella’s parents disowned her when we married. It used to make me crazy, thinking she had to choose between them and me. But somewhere along the road, I decided they’d given up on her before she and I even started dating.”

  Luz thought of her parents, the memories so warm and her confidence in their love so absolute that they still seemed to be with her at times. She thought of Lily, and how sharp her pain over losing her still was. How did parents shove a child away, and why? She moved a little, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “That’s so hard for me to understand,” she admitted finally, and gave him a small grin. “I mean, as disagreeable as you are, I wouldn’t disown anyone over you.”

  He chuckled, a forced laugh acknowledging her efforts to be supportive. “You probably would if you knew me better.” The momentary levity fled. “I found out after we were married that she’d gotten into some fairly embarrassing situations her first year at college, before I met her. Her folks have money and smoothed some things over, but…” He paused again. “It wasn’t criminal, but there were behaviors that just shocked her parents and their friends. They’re very conservative, and—well, I think when she married me and announced she was going into law enforcement, they just glommed on to that as an excuse to cut her off. They’ve never met Chloe and said they never would. Even after her death, they didn’t come for the funeral. Not to see their little girl buried. Not even to meet my baby girl who looks…looks so much like her mom.”

  His voice was raw with emotion, and she thought she saw moisture in his eyes before he turned away.

  She wanted to get up, to go to him and wrap her arms around him. But she wasn’t sure that she should. He’d think she couldn’t understand, that she’d never had a baby, never suffered the pain and the fury of having someone hurt a child who meant everything.

  He didn’t know she’d had a child, if not a baby. Her mother and father had known Lily the day after Brian had married her. They’d bragged about their granddaughter and carried her photo with them and loved her with everything in them. How could he believe the depth of her compassion, the unwelcome memories that sprang to her own mind? Maybe—maybe now she could talk to him about Lily. Make him understand why she wasn’t ready to be a mother of any child that wasn’t truly her own—

  She stood slowly and pushed her chair under the table with a knee, a reflex action from her years of being sure the classroom traffic lanes were clear. Her mother had claimed that if she saw a chair out of place during her own wedding, she’d stop and push it in before she walked down the aisle.

  Behind them, there was a flurry of motion, followed by Princess’s low growl. Then the dog lunged for the door, barking as she had earlier. She was out the door before either of them could react, running in the direction of the road, her barking frenzied and full of fury.

  Luz headed after her.

  Aaron caught her before she got to the door.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded. “It’s late and it’s dark—”

  “And something’s wrong!” she snapped. “Stay here with Chloe! I’m just checking for anything that might have set the dog off.” She bit back “again.”

  As she rushed outside, she couldn’t help wishing she’d had the dog on a leash—and her mother’s pistol in her hand.

  She went around the side of the house, tripping once on a rock hidden in the shadow the house cast since the security light was on the other side. In the front yard, she stopped and peered out toward the road, where she could make out the shape of a dark car moving slowly along the fence line.

  “What’s going on?” Aaron said from close by. “And don’t tell me to stay with Chloe, dammit! She’s asleep, and I’m not some panicked little kid afraid of the dark, even if it’s stupid to be out here—”

  Tires screeched and taillights glowed as the car suddenly accelerated and sped away.

  Not Ross Thurmond’s truck. The thought surprised her. Worried her. How had his brief, strange, visits here unnerved her like this? And then sudden suspicion hit her. Hard.

  “God, no.” She thought she hadn’t spoken, but Aaron’s hand on her arm and the alarm in his face told her she had.

  “God, no, what?”

  She thought of Chloe in bed asleep. Of Princess—where? At least she hadn’t heard yelping. But the pit bull hadn’t come back, either. Would Aaron leave when she told him? She re
ally didn’t consider him a coward. He’d obviously gone through a lot without cracking. He just couldn’t bear to lose his precious daughter. She understood that.

  “What, Luz?”

  She covered her face with her hands, and breathed a silent prayer that she was wrong. “I think,” she told him slowly, “that tomorrow we’ll find another dead dog.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The sheriff himself came out, huddling with the deputy who had come before, and talking briefly to Ann before coming over to talk to them.

  “We don’t know what to think,” he admitted, shoving his hat up a little. “Doesn’t make sense that they’d choose this site every time. There were those other cases, and they were all scattered. There’s lots of highway with no one at all alongside. Folks go to bed early, don’t watch ’cause there’s never anything to see. This really bothers me, that suddenly they’re all here.”

  “What you’re saying, Sheriff, is that this is deliberate?” Luz tried to keep her voice from shaking with the rage gripping her. “That someone has decided not to dump live animals here for me to shelter, but these–these–”

  She couldn’t go on. The tortured body of the pit bull had shocked all of them. To his credit, after telling Chloe to stay in the house and finish her breakfast, Aaron never left the gruesome scene, hadn’t left her alone. In fact, he’d even dug a hole to bury the animal. Luz knew how hard she’d worked, and wondered if his hands were more blistered than hers had been.

  Damn whoever it was! She couldn’t believe the inhumanity of people sometimes. But for someone in Rose Creek to be participating in this butchery left her speechless.

  The sheriff looked around. “I don’t know why anyone would do this to you, Luz,” he said. “Maybe someone’s just too stupid or lazy to look further down the road?”

  “No.” Ann had joined them, and she frowned at the sheriff. “Everyone knew she’d take in any living thing that needed a home. Someone’s mocking her, leaving these…carcasses here. And I know you don’t think so, but these dogs aren’t being brought in from San Antonio or even Hondo or Devine.” She rattled off the names of towns in the general vicinity, discarding them all. “Someone here in Rose Creek, or maybe right outside it, is holding dog fights here, and not even hiding it, to send some sick message to Luz.”

  “Sure,” the sheriff agreed. “Although if I was you—I’d let Doc Ann take the body and dispose of it. Maybe someone knows that you and Luz go to all the trouble of burying them.”

  Luz shivered, chilled by the thought. Had someone watched her bury the other dog? Seen her tears as she shoveled the dirt over the mutilated body? Who in the world would want her to suffer? Briefly she thought of Brian’s unexpected call, but dismissed it. He was in Atlanta, and he’d been cruel in totally different ways. The ambitious son of an important Georgia political dynasty wouldn’t be caught dead around dogfights. Brian Chambers hadn’t wanted her enough to be faithful, or to fight Lily’s mom for his own daughter. He wouldn’t stalk her now.

  Who, then? She could only think of Ross Thurmond. He’d been bitten by a dog. What if it hadn’t happened the way he’d said? She could check his story. But he didn’t make much more sense than Brian. What possible motive could he have for wanting to hurt her? She’d spent much of her adult life away from Rose Creek. He’d been friendly and polite, at least until Aaron moved into town. She closed her eyes and wished she’d gotten some sleep.

  “Who are you looking at, Sheriff?” Aaron demanded, anger and lack of sleep hardening his voice and surprising all of them. “Seems to me it’s pretty obvious.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Estes?” The sheriff shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels, and the deputy, who had turned toward the patrol car, stopped and listened.

  “Clark! Hermie Clark!” Aaron almost spat the words out. “What kind of a sick creep is he? Ann sent word to Luz about him buying a horse, so obviously she thinks he’s a danger—”

  “No.” The sheriff, deputy, and Ann all spoke at once.

  “Look, Estes,” the sheriff explained, “you’re new here, and I guess someone as crazy as old Hermie seems logical, but he isn’t. He can’t drive, and doesn’t own a car, and I doubt there’s a soul around he can call a friend. ’Sides, he only has these…fits…every so often. Always horses, far as anyone knows, and he always calls news media first.”

  “The sheriff’s right,” Ann agreed. “Don’t know if it’s true, but I’ve heard he’s scared of dogs—no one’s ever seen him with a living thing out there, except—” She and Luz exchanged glances and she swallowed before she finished. “Horses. The first one, and the one he just bought.”

  Aaron looked off into the distance, before sighing and turning his attention back to the small group. “Thurmond, then,” he suggested. “Ross Thurmond.”

  “Now you’re just crazy,” the deputy scoffed. “Ross does what he can to help anyone and never complains about all the folks who ignore him or make little of him. Man doesn’t have a soul to call family, but the whole town calls him a friend.”

  No one argued with the deputy, but no one agreed with him either.

  “Can I bury the dog now?” Aaron asked. “I need to get back to my girl.” He glanced at the house.

  “Sure, you go on,” the sheriff urged. “Take care, now.”

  Aaron nodded curtly and went to shovel dirt back into the nearby grave.

  Luz watched him, wishing she could replay the happy hours of the sleepover and avoid the whole sordid ordeal they faced now. No point in putting off the rest of the day, though. She opened her eyes and thanked the sheriff and deputy.

  “Come have coffee,” she told Ann, who looked like she didn’t want to stay, but nodded and followed her.

  “We can’t talk, though,” Luz reminded her. “Chloe—”

  “I know,” Ann interrupted. “I’m not a dummy.”

  “Never said you were,” Luz retorted, as they clattered up onto the porch.

  “Guess I need to start practicing tact, anyhow,” Ann said, behind her.

  Ann’s words didn’t register until Luz opened the screen door. She let it swing shut with a soft bang, and whirled around.

  “You’re—”

  “Yes! Yes!” Tears of joy were rolling down Ann’s always-emotionless face. With an answering “yes!” Luz clasped her in a huge hug.

  Suddenly, the day looked just fine.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ann’s news did make the morning brighter. Teasing her about what a fast worker she was and hearing her excitement eased the pain and anxiety over who was targeting her property and why.

  After Ann left, vowing not to let anything get to her and to not overexert herself, Luz and Chloe headed down to the stable to feed the animals and get Chloe where she wanted to be—in her pony’s saddle.

  Aaron stayed behind to shower away the dirt, sweat, and lack of sleep his overnight stay had generated. Not thinking about him in her shower was easy enough, because she’d seen the tightness and concern in his face. And who could blame him? What was happening wasn’t normal. But could it actually be dangerous? When she ran over the list of people in Rose Creek again, she couldn’t think of anyone capable of doing what was being done. No one. Could it be an outsider, then?

  She couldn’t bite back a loud sigh as she watched Chloe feeding the guinea hens.

  The little girl turned curious eyes on her. “Luz, what’s wrong? I know something’s wrong. Dad only makes up stuff for me to do when he’s worried about me seeing something bad.”

  “I think all grown-ups do that around kids,” Luz acknowledged, not wanting to provide details. She didn’t know what Aaron would want her to say. Better to wait for him. Still, she gave Chloe a smile, and then walked over to add a comforting hug before going back to be sure Candy hadn’t driven the cats off to nose their food, although he seldom ate the cat chow.

  Her hesitation to tell Chloe anything else irked her. She had an early childhood degree. She ha
d minored in child psychology, but had decided not to pursue a counseling degree. After just a few years in the classroom, she didn’t think she could handle the issues counselors dealt with. But for the moment, she could distract the little girl until her dad came.

  “Chloe, do you think you can brush Pompom and Rumbles? That would help me a lot.”

  Chloe’s face lit up. “Sure. Even Esmeralda’s horse if you want,” she offered.

  “No, not yet. If one of the big guys stepped on you they’d squish you,” she teased.

  Chloe laughed and hurried off to begin her chore. “I’ll do Pompom first. Since Rumbles is kind of mine, it would be rude if I did her first.”

  “Very true.”

  Luz picked up a comb, brush, and hoof pick and went over to bring the Appaloosa out of her stall. The mare was a beauty, with blood bay forequarters that almost matched her owner’s hair. Her white blanket was spattered with bay and black spots, and she had black stockings to go with her black mane and tail. Probably the best horse in town, in terms of bloodlines, conformation, and looks. But her name!

  “You’re looking grim,” Aaron murmured, coming up behind her. She started, dropping the comb, and he bent to pick it up. Startled or just annoyed, Domatrix lifted a hoof and aimed it in Aaron’s direction.

  Without thinking, Luz grabbed his shirt by the collar and jerked him back and toward her, out of the hoof’s reach.

  Aaron wound up on his backside, glaring up at her until he noticed Domatrix calmly planting her hoof back on the barn floor.

  “Oh.” He frowned. “Dangerous around here, isn’t it? I’m not sure what’s worse—her wanting to kick me or you saving me. You almost took my head off!”

  “Better me than her,” Luz retorted, smiling wickedly and holding her hand out. “Let me help you up, city boy.”

  Aaron carefully scooted a few inches away from the mare’s hooves. Then he caught Luz’s hand. “I don’t think so!” With a quick pull, he toppled Luz into the sand with him.