Wildflower Redemption

by Leslie P. García

  Luz glanced at the clock. How could it only be ten? She’d done everything she needed to do. The animals were tended to, she’d eaten breakfast, agreed to have a family come out on Saturday to let their children ride the ponies—where was Aaron when she needed him?

  She smiled. Okay, maybe “wanted” was more accurate, but this day might never end.

  She pushed up off the couch and decided to go weed her nondescript garden, but the sudden sound of a car rushing up her drive took her by surprise.

  She saw Ross’s old truck jerk to a stop, and when he slid out of his truck, seemingly in a hurry, she stepped out on the porch.

  “Ross, is something wrong?” She caught her breath. “Ann’s okay, isn’t she?”

  “Not comin’ from her place at all,” Ross said, pulling his hat off. “Sorry I came rushin’ over, but I don’t have your number, and well—I thought you’d wanna know.”

  “Know what?”

  “You still missing that pit bull? The one that didn’t cotton to me?”

  “Princess? Yes! Have you seen her?”

  “Well, it’s the darnedest thing—dog that looks like her just curled up in the cow’s stall in my barn. I only saw her once or twice before, but I’m pretty sure it’s her, ’cause she won’t let me nor the cow get near her.”

  “Let me call Ann.”

  “Well, you can, but yesterday when I went by to pick up some feed for old Mr. Jarvis, the doc said she had an appointment today. Thought maybe you’d just want to go see if it was her and if you could just get her to leave with you.”

  “Sure. Let me get me my stuff, and we’ll go.” She grabbed her purse and checked her pocket for her cell phone, then hurried down the stairs after Ross, who was already climbing into his pickup.

  Hope surged through her as she tossed her purse and the cell phone on the passenger seat and turned her truck on, screeching out after Ross. Princess alive? Chloe would be just as happy as she was. Heck, Aaron might pretend otherwise, but he’d be delighted as well.

  The distance to the farm seemed longer than when she and Aaron had ridden it together. She pulled her truck past his parking place near the barn, thinking that if she needed to carry the dog, the distance would be that much shorter.

  She vaulted out of the truck and hurried into the barn after Ross, a little surprised that although old, this building was better maintained than Clark’s. In fact, some of the wood appeared new, and she was surprised to see a couple of stalls that had mesh over the slats on the top half of the stall doors.

  “There in the back, Miss Luz. You go on first—I don’t wanna get bit again!”

  She slowed as she reached the stall, wrinkling her nose as the smells hit her. There were barn smells, but also…dog feces? She peered in, and the stubby head lifted slightly. The stump of a tail thudded, and Princess whined.

  “Oh, Princess!” Luz held her hand out as she approached, but the dog lay there, not standing, and Luz went to her knees, fearful the dog might be injured or sick.

  Behind her, the stall door shut and she heard the wood-on-wood sound of a bolt being pushed closed.

  Princess raised her head and growled.

  “Shut up, you no good bitch!” Ross yelled at the door, and hit it with a fist.

  Princess dropped her head, cowering.

  And everything became crystal clear.

  “Why do you have Princess?” Luz demanded. She walked over to the door, rattling it. “Ross, this is insane. Let me take the dog and go home!”

  “You’re softer’n your momma,” he said absently. “At least she toughened up in the end. But you—you go runnin’ off to save some nag. Or a worthless dog—any critter, huh?”

  He leered through the mesh at her. “But who’s gonna save you, pretty li’l Miss Luz? That worthless man of yours?” He laughed, the sound loud in the barn.

  Luz fought to stay calm. “Ross, this is crazy. You know everyone in town. They know you. You don’t want any trouble. What are you going to do with me? Why did you do this?”

  He pressed his hands against the mesh, looking in at her, thinking. She noticed that the mesh only gave slightly and discarded the idea she could get through that.

  “What am I gonna do with you?” He paused for a moment, and then snorted, his tone insulting. “Or what am I gonna do to you, that’s more the question. What do you think I’d want a woman like you for?” He dragged his eyes over her from head to toe. “Can’t buy a woman in Rose Creek,” he muttered. “Everyone always watching and no one putting out anyway. Having my own woman would be better.”

  He moved a few steps away, and she watched him circle around in the aisle. He went to the other stall door and opened the meshed top portion.

  A huge black-and-white pit bull lunged forward, dragging a chain, barking and snarling in a deadly rage as he tried to clamber over the partition.

  “This here’s Marco,” he told her, grinning maliciously. “He’s the reigning champ. He’ll probably get your stupid dog tomorrow night, just to get him goin’ for the main match.”

  “Ross—you?” Luz looked over her shoulder at Princess, quivering, her eyes pleading for help. “My mother liked you! She trusted you. How could she have not known?”

  “Now hold on, Missy. Couple of things. Your ma didn’t always like me. Oh, she was a damn good actress. Hid how she felt about me to keep your pa safe from himself—and from me, too, maybe.” He paused and spat into the straw, then cleaned his mouth with the back of his dirty hand. “And I don’t fight these dogs; I just help the guy who runs the fights. He’s new to town, only been doin’ it for a couple or three months.”

  “But why would you help?”

  “Back, Marco! Get back!” He pushed the top of the stall closed, literally beating the dog back with it. “That bastard gets out, we’ll all be dead,” he muttered. Then he walked back over to lean on her door again as if nothing were wrong.

  “You asked about your ma. Almost forgot.”

  He gave her another smile, one that made her cringe inwardly. He was as crazy as Hermie Clark—maybe worse, because no one could come racing to her rescue. The stall looked solid enough to hold a fighting dog and certainly solid enough to keep her here.

  “Now, your ma and I, we had an arrangement, a real personal arrangement,” he murmured. “Suited me more than her, but she was smart enough to know she didn’t have no other choice. You might wanna think about that. She took back her word, of course, after your pa died. But when she was trying to save him…” He laughed and hit her door with his fist again.

  “Right stupid of you to leave your purse and your phone in your truck. Ain’t nobody going to know where you are ’til after…whatever we decide.” He leaned on the mesh again, his fingers sticking through. For a second she considered trying to injure him somehow, smash his fingers, but she didn’t see anything around. Didn’t think it would help, either, probably just piss him off.

  “You think real careful, Miss Luz,” he advised. “We can get along, or we can’t. Tomorrow we’ll have company.” He paused. “You wouldn’t like what they’d do to you. I wouldn’t either. But I’m not a stupid man. If you and I ain’t agreed on what you will do for me, then I reckon that the dogs won’t be the only thing for sale tomorrow. And if you’re gonna be up for sale it might as well be to me and not some guy who comes to watch things die at a dog fight.”

  He rattled the mesh, leering through it. “Gotta go, got stuff to do. But you think real hard about what’s going on. I can make it easy or hard, but tomorrow night…” He shrugged. “Then, the boss says what I do.”

  “Don’t go!” She came to the door and lifted her own hands against the mesh, trying to appeal to the Ross she knew, not the madman threatening her with death. “Ross, this is crazy. People know us both; they’ll look for me. They’ll want to help you if you’re in trouble—this is Rose Creek, for heaven’s sake!”

  She thought his expression softened for a moment, but then he smirked. “Rose Creek. Never had a di
me or a minute for me, did they? Oh, sure, busy work to hand money to me, but an invitation to dinner or some kid’s birthday, or a woman sayin’ yes to a date?” He took off his cap, fanning his face and running a dirty hand through the short, gray hair. “Don’t matter. Only woman I ever wanted was your ma, and she never wanted me back.” He plopped the cap back on his head and winked. “Course, that didn’t stop what had to happen from happenin’, but she shouldn’t never have married your pa.”

  Without another word, he started off.

  She couldn’t let him go, had to get him open to the door. “Wait! I—I need to go to the bathroom. At least just let me out for a few minutes.”

  He didn’t look back, but she heard him snigger. “Then just squat, honey. Ain’t no cameras in the stall.” He turned then, waving at the ceiling of the barn. “Don’t know how they work, but those cameras see everything that happens out here. And the boss has folks who watch ’em. ’Magine that—gettin’ paid to sit on your ass and watch an empty barn all day.” He puffed out his chest a little. “That’s why I’m expectin’ a call about why a woman ran into a stall. I’ll have to tell him you came to save your dog. I couldn’t let him see me draggin’ you in. And I need a good reason for when I take you to my other place. So don’t even think about tryin’ to get out somehow.”

  Whistling, he left the barn. Minutes later she heard a truck turn on. His? Hers?

  Tires crunched on gravel, and she was alone. She dropped to her knees, and Princess limped to her, emaciated again, nosing her for comfort. Given the dog’s physical condition and fear of Ross, she suspected he’d had her since she ran away. “Too bad you can’t talk, girl,” she sighed. “I could use some help right about now.” She spent a few minutes petting the dog while she studied the stall, looking for any weakness or opening. She couldn’t find one. Finally, with a last word to soothe Princess, she stood up and went to the door, looking for any bit of mesh she might be able to pry loose.

  • • •

  Aaron bit back a curse as a car shooting onto Loop 410 W almost bounced off his car. Chloe had her earphones on and her eyes glued to the screen of a handheld game, oblivious to the traffic and tired of the sites he dutifully pointed out.

  She made him smile. Always. Kind of like Luz. He frowned, but more at the traffic than at the realization that he missed her. He had driven in cities much worse than San Antonio, but here he was, feeling stressed and irritable. One morning without Luz, and he was a wreck. He should think about that.

  Beside him a horn blared, and he jerked back to total focus on the lanes of speeding vehicles all around him. He’d have to think about Luz later. Signs for their exit rushed at him, and he turned on his signal and started working his way over to the turn lane.

  Hours later, he watched Chloe sleep, almost lost in the vastness of the hotel bed, a little annoyed that neither of them had spoken to Luz. Not that she was at his beck and call, but it wasn’t like her to have ignored the three calls, either.

  Chloe stirred a little, and he stood up, ready to let her know he was there if any of today’s events brought back her nightmares. After the shooting, she hadn’t dealt well with crowds, with strangers closing her in, and this was a busy city full of bustle and noise. They’d both jumped when a bus backfired near them, and she’d hardly eaten any supper.

  But she just mumbled something incoherent and turned over, clutching the hotel pillow to her like one of her stuffed animals.

  He kicked off his shoes and headed over to the couch to watch the evening news. Since Rose Creek didn’t have a station, he and Luz usually watched this San Antonio channel. As he settled into a comfortable spot, he wished again Luz could have made the trip with them. And that she’d answered the phone, dammit! Why hadn’t she?

  They hadn’t fought. Could something have happened to her? What could happen to her in Rose Creek?

  And then he thought of Stella and Alabaster and his forehead beaded with cold sweat.

  He started to dial Ann’s number, but cleared the number and tossed his phone to the far side of the couch.

  Luz had misplaced the phone and not noticed yet, or it had run out of battery. He wouldn’t risk disturbing Ann if she and Ram had one of their rare early nights. The woman was pregnant, for heaven’s sake. Luz was fine.

  And he would not let memories of Stella make him an emotional cripple. He wouldn’t.

  • • •

  Luz didn’t know the time, how long Ross had been gone, or even if he’d come back, although she supposed he would. Pain throbbed in her hands, and she glanced down. She’d given manicured nails up when she left Atlanta—long nails got in the way of moving hay and bossing half ton horses around. Nevertheless, the flesh around two of her nails was seeping blood from the scratches and cuts she’d gotten trying to pry one strand of mesh loose. Once or twice she’d thought the steel moved, but then she realized she was getting nowhere. Then she’d spent untold time going around the stall, pushing and prodding the planking—all new, all solid.

  She finally slumped down in the cleanest part of the stall, where the dog hadn’t soiled the straw. Humiliation and anger throbbed through her along with the pain from her hands. She’d had to do exactly what Ross had said, relieving herself, while half expecting to find him leering in at her.

  She thought of all the women leads in popular series and films who would simply kick the door down, and wished life were that easy. You could be strong, “feisty,” and independent, but if the damn walls were solid enough, you weren’t going to get out on your own.

  Princess nudged her, and she stroked the battered head absently. Maybe, if Ross did open the door, Princess would feel protective enough of her to attack. She didn’t want the dog hurt, but it was coming down to doing something, or…

  She brushed the specter of death away, and thought of Aaron and Chloe. They’d be back tomorrow. Had they tried to call her? Would they wonder why she hadn’t answered?

  She doubted it. Aaron had seen her leave her cell phone lying around, knew she didn’t always keep it charged. And he and Chloe had planned to go for dinner and visit the San Antonio Zoo since Chloe’s appointments had taken up all of today. They wouldn’t head back until tomorrow evening, Aaron had said.

  Tomorrow would be too late, if Ross could be believed.

  And the beast she could hear clanking his chain and growling occasionally certainly wasn’t here to be a birthday surprise for some child. She’d never seen a larger, more vicious-looking dog, and the scars on his body spoke of any number of fights.

  She pushed Princess away and stood up again. Time to do something. She just didn’t have a clue what might work.

  Ross came back as darkness was falling. She heard him come through the door, and there was a shuffling as if he were dragging something along. He turned on a light switch somewhere. Across the way, the pit bull began to whine and pull on his chain. Feeding time? And how could anyone feed that thing?

  She wasn’t wrong; Ross came down the corridor carrying a large bowl of food and a bucket of water. She watched without comment as he paused outside the dog’s stall and knelt down, fiddling with latches she hadn’t noticed on the bottom of the door. He raised a portion of the door, and a black snout thrust out, teeth bared, snuffling and growling as the dog inside tried to get to his food bowl.

  Ross pushed the food in, then went to a corner and pulled out a small, three-pronged garden rake. He got down again, and fished around in the stall until he pulled out another bowl, which he filled with water. Then he carefully latched the hooks again and got up, a little more stiffly this time, and brushed at his pant’s legs.

  For a moment, she thought he was leaving without speaking to her, and couldn’t decide whether or not to call out. Maybe her own stall had one of those feeding slots. Maybe—

  But then he was back, and she saw what he was half-dragging, half-carrying was a canvas, easily the size of the painting in her living room, its back facing her. She felt prickles of fear scurry up her
arms. Somehow she knew whatever was on the front of the canvas would hurt her.

  Ross took his time. She supposed it was his form of torture. Not physical, but he was a master at inflicting mental anguish. He propped the painting against the opposite stall, slanting it so that if the dog— Marco? —lunged against the door, the painting wouldn’t fall and reveal itself ahead of time.

  He left again, and came back with a stool and a fast food bag. The scents coming out were normally something she’d avoid, but her stomach rumbled and clenched. Her lips were parched, but he lifted the drink cup up and toasted her, as if he planned on drinking it himself while she watched.

  “Oh, hi,” he said then, as if he’d forgotten she were there. He laughed, slapping his knee as if he thought nothing was funnier. “Just kiddin’.” He stood up and walked over to the door. Princess rumbled low in her throat.

  “Princess, no!” Luz hissed, not wanting the dog to give Ross pause if he decided to open the door.

  “Oh, don’t worry about her. Worthless as they come.” He bent the straw a little and poked it through one of the diamond-shaped spaces.

  “Drink up. It’s water, not soda. They say that’s better for you.”

  Luz took a long sip before responding. Then she stepped back from the door. “Ross, couldn’t you hand it in—it’s hard to drink.”

  “I’m thinkin’.” He sat back down on the edge of the stool. “Guess you’re feelin’ a mite lonely. Lover boy not gonna be sneakin’ into your bed the minute he sends his little one off to school?”

  She lifted her chin. “Aaron is none of your business, and neither is Chloe. Let me go home, Ross.”

  “Sure, sure. And I guess you won’t call the police or nothin’, huh?”

  He laughed when she couldn’t force the lie out. “Maybe you’re as tough as your ma after all—she always had trouble lyin’, too.” He pulled the burger out of his bag, letting the bag fall to the floor and opening the wrapper. The hot meat smell filled the stall. He pinched off a small portion with his filthy fingers and pushed it into the stall.