by Fredrick, MJ
Beth stretched on the pew to look at Leo, and wished she’d sat closer. Still, it looked like he had eyes for no one but Trinity, as it should be. He stepped down to take her hand and lead her onto the altar in front of her brother.
The wedding proceeded as tradition dictated, and was fairly short because of it, which was good because Jonas was squirming and starting to fuss. Linda was growing impatient and Beth took him, settling him down for a bit, at least as long as it took for Trinity and Leo to have their first kiss, then invite everyone to Quinn’s for the reception.
The bar and grill was across the lawn from the church, but the rain hadn’t let up, so the people bottlenecked in the vestibule. Beth took her opportunity to hug Trinity in congratulations. She saw the strain around her friend’s eyes.
“Can you believe, after all the planning, it rained?” Trinity said.
“It washes away everything from the past. It gives you a fresh start,” Beth said.
Trinity’s eyes brightened at that. “What a lovely way of looking at it. I love the rain!”
“And it didn’t stop anyone from coming,” Beth added with a grin. “Your dress is gorgeous.”
“It was my grandmother’s, from the forties. The only one that fit across my boobs.”
One of the church ladies turned to give her a chiding glance at her use of the word, but Trinity just smiled.
“Our car is here,” Leo announced. “We can take four with us over to Quinn’s.”
When Beth, Adam, Linda and Jonas arrived at Quinn’s, the man himself was behind the bar, his suit ditched, his hair plastered to his head, his white shirt clinging to his skin.
“Did you run over here?” Beth asked.
“Yep.”
“Need a hand?”
He looked over the bar at her shoes. “You’re here as a guest. We’ve got it covered.”
“And you’re best man. Don’t you have to give a speech or something?”
Quinn scowled. “You don’t think they’ll forget about that part, do you?”
“If they do, I’ll remind them. Let me know if you need help.”
“You do the speech, and I’ll pay you.”
She laughed and walked off.
The catered meal was laid out along one wall in serving platters that kept the food hot. Beth hung back until the line died down before she went to fill her own plate with Swedish meatballs, grilled zucchini, breadsticks and veggies with ranch dip. The cake was at the end of the table, a beautiful two-tiered cake the same color as Trinity’s dress, but with Fourth of July streamers surrounding it on the white tablecloth. The wedding was very simple, necessitated by their quick planning and Trinity’s pregnancy. Now word of that hadn’t gotten around, had it?
Dale had joined their table when she returned, his own plate full. He collected beverages for all of them, and Beth felt a twinge of guilt drinking her champagne when Maddox had been sober for two years. Ridiculous, because it was one little glass for a celebration, and he wasn’t here.
God, she wished he was here.
Tonight was not the night to worry about that, though. Tonight was for fun. She lifted her glass to Lily’s toast and winced as Quinn struggled through his speech. No one ever said he was a public speaker. Beth and Linda lent a hand cutting and serving the cake. As soon as that last tradition ended, Trinity’s family left. They’d probably never spent such a stretch of time inside Quinn’s.
After the toasts and the cake, Maddox’s back-up band started playing a quiet country song. The new singer, John Evans, one of Leo’s co-coaches, stepped up to the microphone.
“Maddox really wanted to be here tonight but had other obligations, and Trinity was dead-set on not changing the date.”
Chuckles rumbled through the crowd.
“But at Beth’s request, he wrote a song for the occasion, and I’d like to sing it for the newlyweds.”
Beth’s heart clenched as Leo rose and held a hand to Trinity, then led her to the dance floor. She let Maddox’s music wash over her, the song he’d played for her on the deck that night, now with words that she couldn’t quite attribute just to Trinity and Leo, not when they mentioned “night after night, knowing it’s so right,” and “After all this time, can you still be mine?” She particularly liked the lines talking about the moonlight in her hair, reflected in her smile, and how he’d manage to be away from her, if only for a little while.
Only then did Beth realize she and Trinity had so much in common, in love with men whose jobs would take them from Bluestone again and again. Well. At least she had someone to talk to.
The song drifted to an end. The next song was a cover of a popular love song. Trinity danced with Leo’s son, Max, then all were invited to join. Dale stood and stretched a hand toward Beth.
“Dance with me?”
Still regretting that Maddox wasn’t here, she put her hand in his and smiled. “You’d better be right about your skill. I can’t afford for you to tromp all over my toes. New shoes.”
For a big guy, he was surprisingly graceful. He glided her across the floor so smoothly she had trouble keeping up. He grinned at her, and she remembered that she had once thought he was her future. She couldn’t think that anymore. She had no business letting him think she felt anything for him. But here and now was not the time to make her position clear.
Her brother danced with Lily, which made Quinn scowl. But Jonas got fussy and while people passed him around to entertain him, Beth knew it was time to go home. She hadn’t socialized this much in years. She packed up her sister, and asked Adam to take them home.
Adam dropped them off in front of the house, and she realized she’d forgotten to leave a light on. Great. She fumbled in her small purse for her key. It stood to reason it would be easier to find in a small purse, but it wasn’t. Finally she pulled it free, inserted it in the lock—and a hand reached out to drag her inside.
Chapter Ten
Beth’s throat closed around the scream that bubbled in her throat, and she tried to push her sister back, out of the house, even as she recognized the stench of her father. She jerked her wrist loose, flicked on the light to make him wince, and stood glaring, her body between her sister and her father.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I came for the rest of my money.”
“I don’t have it.”
His gaze traveled up and down her dress—four years old, but not quite out of style. “Really.” He looked past her to Linda, ignoring Jonas. “Where have you been, all dressed up?”
“A wedding,” Linda said, sounding like a little girl.
“Linda, take Jonas and put him to bed,” Beth said over her shoulder. She recognized her father’s mood, and wanted Linda out of the line of fire.
With a nervous glance at her father, Linda tucked the baby closer to her chest and scurried down the hall.
“I need more money, and I need it now. They aren’t going to wait any longer,” he said.
“You should have thought of that before you borrowed money from those people,” she retorted.
His hand whipped out and he wrapped it in her hair, pulling her toward him. Behind her, Linda cried out in protest, and Beth willed the girl to go into her bedroom. The pain in her scalp was excruciating, and tears burned her eyes, but she didn’t let herself cry. She returned her father’s bloodshot glare.
“You show respect to your father.”
“Why? You never did anything for us. The only reason I gave you money to begin with was to keep you away from us. We don’t have anything to give you. You need to go.”
His hand tightened in her hair and she couldn’t stop the gasp of alarm. “Or what? You little liar. You’re sleeping with Maddox Bradley. You can get the money from him.”
In the next room, Jonas was wailing inconsolably.
“Linda, take care of Jonas,” Beth managed, trying to recover from the shock of her father’s words. How did he know about Maddox?
Jonas’s cries onl
y heightened her nerves, already stretched to the limit. Her father didn’t protest when Linda went to Jonas. Earlier she’d thought to use Jonas to diffuse him, but no, with this level of violence, she was glad to have the baby in the other room. She hoped Linda kept him in there.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone.”
“That’s not what the tabloids say. The tabloids say that little bastard who used to screw you in the backseat of his car has moved up in the world and is screwing you in a lake house now. Would he be willing to pay to keep you pretty?”
Fear lunged in her chest. What was he threatening her with? “You’re not up on town gossip, then. He’s gone back to Nashville. You’re too late for that money train.”
“And he didn’t buy you any trinkets when he was screwing you? Do you give yourself that easily?”
A tear escaped, and she preferred to think of it as a tear of pain, not of longing.
“I’ll call him,” Linda said behind her, her voice desperate. “He’ll pay, I know he will.”
Beth wanted to protest. Linda couldn’t have his number. Beth didn’t even have his number. But something in Linda’s panicked voice made Beth freeze and go along with it.
She heard Linda’s heavy footsteps cross the floor to the kitchen, heard the click of the buttons as she dialed. “Maddox. God, Maddox. This is Linda. Beth would never ask you this, but we need help. My dad. He owes some bad people a lot of money. He’s here now, and he’s not leaving until he at least has the promise of the money.” Linda paused a moment. “How much?” she asked her father.
“Ten thousand.”
More than he’d told her he owed. Was he in more trouble than he had told her, or was he taking advantage of Maddox? She whimpered a protest.
Linda repeated the amount into the phone and added, “Please hurry. I don’t know if he’s going to hurt her.” Linda hung up and set the phone down with a clatter. “He’s going to send it. He’s going to send it now. You can go to the bank in the morning and get it. He promised. You can go.”
“I don’t think I will.” He straightened, his hand twisting tighter in Beth’s hair. “I’ll wait here until I’m sure it’s there.”
Beth tried to twist to see her sister, but she couldn’t. Who had Linda called? It wasn’t Maddox. So what were they waiting for? How long was their father going to hold them hostage?
“Do you have anything to drink in here?”
“Water. Tea.”
His hand tightened in her hair. “No beer?”
“No. We—can’t afford it, and there’s no point in tempting Linda. If you let me go, I’ll get you some iced tea.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, no matter how she fought to stop them. She was ready to beg, but she didn’t know how he would react.
“Linda can get me some iced tea.”
He shifted enough that she could see her sister clench her fists. Linda was going to argue, she just knew it. Instead, her sister moved to the cabinet and got a glass, then pulled the pitcher from the refrigerator. Beth was hyperaware of her father’s heavy breathing, laced with the sharp scent of whiskey that turned her stomach, as he waited. Linda crossed the room more slowly than she usually moved, and Beth tensed further, though she hadn’t thought it possible.
Then Linda drew back her arm and flung the tea in his face, ice cubes striking. With a roar, he tossed Beth aside, her hair tearing from her scalp. Before she could catch herself, she smacked face-first into the table by the door. Stunned, she recovered in time to see her father backhand Linda, sending her flying backwards and colliding with the kitchen counter. Beth hoped the sickening crunch she heard was something on the counter, but she very much feared it wasn’t.
Behind her, the door moved, and for a moment she thought her father was pulling it, trying to make his escape, but no. Someone was pushing from behind, and pounding on the door and yelling. Dizzily, she rolled onto her hip, away from the door, and it swung open, hard. She threw out a hand just in time to catch it before it hit her.
“What the hell?” Quinn demanded, stepping into the living room, filling the small space, followed by Adam. Quinn grasped Beth’s father, wrenching his arms behind his back, and the older man cried out.
Quinn twisted around and saw Beth. She braced her arms behind her—ow, her wrist hurt—and wincing, tried to push to her feet.
“Stay there,” Quinn said, and she wondered why. “Adam, Linda.”
God, what was wrong with Linda? Beth struggled to her knees and saw her sister wasn’t moving. Adam crouched beside her.
“Goddamnit, I said stay there,” Quinn snapped. “Lily!”
The younger woman appeared behind Beth, and Quinn nodded in her direction. Lily turned to look at her and sucked in a breath. She reached over Adam and grabbed a towel from the counter, then crouched beside Beth and pressed it to her temple. Beth winced at the unexpected sting and Lily made a soft, sympathetic sound. When she drew the towel away, it was soaked with blood. Her blood. Her stomach pitched.
“Linda?” Her sister still hadn’t moved. Adam drew back and pulled out his cell phone, then pressed three numbers.
Lily looked over her shoulder at Quinn, who shrugged and turned back to her father with a snarl.
“I’m sitting you down and you need to stay put. The sheriff is on his way. You move, and I kick your ass. Get me?”
Her father nodded slowly and Quinn bent beside Linda, who moved her legs.
Beth rose to her knees, nudging aside Lily. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Looks like she hit her head pretty good,” Quinn said, his back to her, his hands moving over her sister. “Adam, will you get the baby?”
Beth realized, past the ringing in her ears, that Jonas was wailing, his cries echoing through the small house. Adam brushed past her to go get him. Her father slumped on the couch, defeated.
“You two take the girls and the baby to Dale to get them checked out. I’ll stay here and wait for the sheriff,” Quinn said.
“I’ll take the baby,” Lily said, standing to scoop the wailing child out of Adam’s arms. “You see to your sister.”
“His diaper bag is just over there,” Beth pointed.
“I’ve got it,” Lily said, lifting it and sliding it on her shoulder as she turned. “Here, you hold onto my arm. You don’t look so steady.”
“I’m fine.” But it seemed to take all her effort to push to her feet.
“Hold the towel to your head,” Lily said, and offered the arm not holding Jonas. “We should’ve brought Dale with us.”
Maneuvering the steps was harder than Beth expected, and she gripped the rail in a death grip when the stairs seemed to zoom up at her. Behind her, Adam clamped a hand on her shoulder to steady her, but she couldn’t lean on him. He had Linda in his arms. Her sister was limp, but occasionally made a few grunts that let Beth know she was alive.
“Do you have your keys? We need the car seat?” Lily asked her.
Beth wavered. “My purse. The small one for the wedding.”
Lily nodded and hurried back in to grab it. She looked at the small car, then at Adam and his load. “I’ll take Beth and the baby. You take Linda in my truck. We’ll meet at Dale’s, all right?”
Moments later, they were in front of Dale’s clinic, which was a Victorian house. He used the downstairs for the office and lived upstairs. He came out when the two vehicles pulled in front, still dressed from the wedding. He hurried forward when Beth unfolded herself, still holding the bloody towel to her head.
She waved him toward the truck. “Check out my sister. She was unconscious.”
She trusted Lily to take care of Jonas, and followed Dale to the truck, though her steps were unsteady. Linda was conscious now, but more wobbly than Beth, and Adam carried her into the clinic. Dale hung back to help Beth up the steps, his brow furrowed as he looked at the bloody towel. But he didn’t ask what happened, just sat her in a chair and pointed Adam to an exam room. He followed and closed the door.
Beth had never
been in here, not since Dale was the doctor, anyway. She looked around the tiny waiting room as Lily sat across from her, adjusting Jonas, still sobbing, hoarse now, on her lap.
“There should be a bottle in the bag from the wedding.”
Lily frowned, then pawed through the diaper bag and drew one out triumphantly.
“I’ll feed him,” Beth offered.
“I’ve got it.”
Jonas fought her for a minute. He probably wasn’t really hungry, just upset, but finally he decided to give in and suckled noisily, tears still streaming from his eyes. Beth waited for Lily to ask what had happened, but she didn’t.
The door to the exam room opened and Dale stepped out. “I want to take her to the city, so she can get a CAT-scan. I think she’s concussed pretty good, and she’s broken her clavicle.” He tapped his own collarbone. “But I want to get you stitched up real quick.”
“We don’t have insurance,” Beth blurted, then glanced at Lily.
“I’m sure they’ll figure out something. I’ll set the bone, and get her wrapped up, but that head injury—and the fact that she was unconscious—worries me. Now come on. I need to look at you.”
“She’s dizzy, too,” Lily piped up.
Dale’s brow furrowed further. “All right. Let’s have a look.”
But he didn’t take her in the same room where Linda was, which made her anxious.
“Is Jonas hurt?” he asked softly, guiding her to sit on the paper-covered exam table.
“No. he was in his crib. He’s just upset.”
“Your father hit you before?”
“Never. He would get drunk and pass out, but not this. He didn’t really hit me this time, only shoved me and I fell.”
“But Linda he hit. I can see the imprint of his hand on her face. Don’t defend him, Beth.”
“I’m not.” But she realized that was how it sounded. “I didn’t mean to. But no, he’s never hit us before.” And now Linda was going to have to go to the hospital, and God knew what that would cost. Would this never end?
