by Grace Greene
Sandra crossed her arms. It irritated her that he spoke Trent’s name as if this were Trent’s story instead of hers and Honey’s.
“Yes. The old schoolhouse. It’s on the dirt road to the Shoemaker house?”
He shook his head. “Not familiar with it, but I’ve seen the sign for Shoemaker Road, just past Apple Grove, right?”
“Yes. There was a deep hole under the building. I don’t know how Honey ended up in there, but she must’ve been trapped since I arrived on Monday. It was muddy enough and deep enough that she couldn’t get out.”
Dr. Walker said, “She was probably getting some water. A few days without food won’t hurt a dog much as long as there’s water.” He held out his hand, and Honey placed her paw in it. She attempted to lift her head and managed a few inches. With his free hand, he smoothed back the fur on her forehead and gently eased her head back onto the table. “We’ll clean her up, too.”
“Thank you,” Sandra tried to say, but she choked. The words barely squeaked out. She cleared her throat. “Thanks for giving her a chance.”
The vet smiled. “You two should go home. Gayle will call you later with an update. You need to get that mud off yourself, too. Maybe get checked out by your doctor.”
The door closed behind them. Trent opened the door to the truck and held it for her. He was the soul of courtesy and compassion.
She was going to do this? Really? Get in the truck with Trent? But she was filthy and had no money or shoes. How else was she going to get home?
They shared the first few miles in silence until Trent asked, “Am I allowed to talk to you?”
Sandra tried to keep her gaze straight ahead, but from the corner of her eye, she saw his face was half-turned toward her. She clenched her fingers together in her lap.
He sighed. “Sandra. Be an adult, please.”
“Please keep your eyes and attention on the road.” She bit her lip. She knew better than to get drawn in.
He nodded. “No worries there. I’ve been a good driver all my life. Driving is easy. Marriage? That’s different.” He paused before adding, “I’d like to know what I did wrong. Why did you leave this time, Sandra? And without a word?” He waited again, but she refused to respond.
He continued. “You’re mad because I came here after you. But what was I supposed to do, not knowing what was going on?” He tapped the steering wheel with the back of his ring. It made a faint staccato noise.
“I left you a note.”
“There was no note. Unless you hid it somewhere. Because that’s what you do, Sandy, you hide.” He waited. “But not very well.”
She couldn’t help herself. “I left a note whether you want to admit it or not. I told you to leave me alone. How did you know where I was?”
“Where else would you go? Which, by the way, I at least had the courtesy and consideration to call your parents. That’s more than you can say.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You know what I’m asking.”
“I don’t know anything. I wish you’d explain it to me.”
How had he known she was here? Did she want to know badly enough to ask him again?
He turned onto Shoemaker Road.
Sandra sat up taller, determined. “Stop at the schoolhouse.”
He frowned slightly but did as she asked. She put her hand on the door handle and swung it open.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting out here.”
“I’ll drive you to the house.”
“No. This is far enough.”
“You’re being silly.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I appreciate what you did today.”
“Aren’t you curious how I happened to be there? Aren’t you glad I was there to help? Even if the help came from me?”
“I’m not curious, and thank you again. It doesn’t matter how or why you found me. You are leaving now, and you aren’t coming back.” She slid out of the seat. Her bare feet landed on rocks hidden in the weeds. Inside she winced, but she kept her face impassive.
“Sandra.”
“Thank you and go now while I still feel a little grateful. You aren’t welcome here. You are trespassing. I’m going to stand right here until you drive back down the road and leave this property.”
“You know, I couldn’t pin it down before, but with that haircut, you kind of have that Audrey Hepburn look. The short hair, the skinny arms and neck. Not her charm, unfortunately, and not her class. Why’d you cut it, Sandy?”
“Go now, Trent.” She slammed the door and stepped into the middle of the road, staring toward the bridge and the state road.
He reversed in the open area in front of the schoolhouse, and, without another look, he drove away.
She told herself he’d left because she was adamant, because she’d accept nothing else, but her hands were shaking as she watched him head toward the state road and the rest of the world. She waited to see if he’d come back. He didn’t. After a few minutes, she crawled into the building to retrieve her shoes. When she saw the opening in the floor and the dank, dark, muddy mess below it, she vomited, barely making it out of the building first. It felt like mud and fire coming up.
A few minutes passed before she got back to her feet. She had her sandals. There was no sign of the jacket.
She carried the shoes as she trudged to the house. The front door was unlocked, as she’d left it. She’d been gone a little longer than intended, to put it lightly. As much as she didn’t want to wear her filthy clothes in the house, dropping dirt and debris as she went, she wasn’t going to strip on the porch.
In the kitchen, she ditched her clothing and left it all on the floor in front of the washing machine. She’d wash them later after she’d hosed them down out back. She stood at the sink and drank water. Just water. Thirsty. She drank more water. Her stomach rumbled a warning, and she set aside the glass.
She found her phone on the table beside the knitting chair and snagged it as she headed to the stairs. She shut the bedroom door and locked it, then, for extra measure, pushed the dresser in front of it. She retrieved the knife from under her mattress and laid it on the floor between the tub and the wall, along with her phone. Sort of like the Old West gunslingers did with their weapons while bathing in the bathhouses. Always ready.
Her body shook while she waited for the water to run hot, and then kept going while she showered. When the worst of the mud had washed down the drain, she put the plug in the drain and sat there as the tub filled up. There was a part of her that thought she’d never feel warm again. She was going to stay in this tub until she did.
She may have dozed off. When the phone rang, she sloshed the water so badly that it spilled over the high rim of the tub. She grabbed her phone.
“Sandra Hurst, please?”
“This is she.”
“Hi, this is Gayle. I was calling with an update on Honey. She’s doing well.”
“Thank goodness.” Sandra leaned over the edge of the tub, not willing to risk her phone falling in the bath. “Is she eating yet?”
“Not yet. But her body temp is good, and her heart sounds good now. The doc is still a little concerned about her lungs, but if she continues to improve, he’ll release her tomorrow.”
Gratitude and relief went hand in hand. Sandra laid her head back and unclenched her hand from the side of the tub. “Thank you so much. I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this. I’ll be over tomorrow morning.”
“Wait until we call you?”
“Of course. Will she be all right there overnight?” Now that relief was rolling in, so was worry about the expense.
“Sure. We have another overnighter on the schedule, so unless Honey takes a bad turn, it won’t be a problem for the tech to keep an eye on her.”
“Thank you again.”
Sandra hung up, dropped the phone onto the bath mat, and slid down into the tub again. The water had cooled now. She’d had good news, but bad news co
uld always be counted to find its way in. Hopefully Barbara had left enough money to cover Honey’s medical bills.
What about the fence?
She grabbed a towel and climbed out of the tub. She was almost restored. And hungry. She checked the time on her phone. Only a couple of hours had passed. Could that be true? It was still well within the supper hour.
Aunt Barbara had left some steaks in the freezer. How long would it take to defrost one?
The clothing she’d worn today was out of the question. She would have to raid Aunt Barbara’s closet yet again.
She chose a pair of sweatpants and a long T-shirt. The T-shirt had three-quarter sleeves, and she hiked them up her arms.
Sandra glanced at the living room bookcase as she walked through. Aunt Barbara’s cash. She’d call her aunt and give her the news. It was past time for Barbara to know about Honey and—thank goodness—the news was good. Barbara also deserved to know how Sandra was spending her money. She called the cell number.
“Aunt Barbara? Hi, glad I got you. Are you still having fun in Florida?”
“Oh, yes. Margaret and I went to a putting green. She’s determined to make me a golfer.”
“Yes. She always enjoyed golfing with Dad.” Did that sound like a criticism?
“He’s doing real well, Sandra. I know you’ve been worried about him.” She had a sweet but fretful nature.
“I have. I’m glad you’re there to help.”
“Happy to. You sound like you have something on your mind, Sandra.”
“You have a good ear, Aunt Barbara. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp.
“It’s all good. I’m sure I should’ve told you right away, but I didn’t want you to worry, and there wasn’t anything you could have done about it.”
“For heaven’s sake, Sandra, you’re scaring me. Are you OK? The house? What?”
“Everything is fine, or it will be. It’s about Honey. It’s a long, confusing story, but a few days ago, she got out of the fenced area. The gate was unlatched. I don’t know how or why, but she was gone. I’ve been looking for her ever since.”
“Oh, my. Oh, my.”
“But I found her! It worked out.”
“Thank goodness.”
She wasn’t doing this very well. It was like a step forward, two steps back kind of approach and not very effective. “I found her down by the old schoolhouse.”
“There?”
A long silence ensued that Sandra didn’t understand. Finally, Aunt Barbara continued, but she sounded far away. “We should’ve had it torn down years ago. I didn’t realize it was so . . . dangerous.”
“There’s a big pit dug in the earth underneath. It had rained a lot, and I found her stuck in there, in the mud, but I got her out.”
“Oh, oh, oh . . .”
“Honey is recovering from hypothermia. She’s at the vet’s tonight.”
“Do you need me to come home? I can, right now. What do you mean trapped? You were both trapped? And the vet? Which vet? Why is she still there?”
“Take a deep breath. Everything’s good now. It’s Dr. Walker’s office in Mineral. The vet is concerned she might have aspirated some mud. He’s watching her in case she takes a turn, but right now she’s doing well. She’ll probably come home tomorrow.”
“Oh, my goodness, Sandra. Certainly I never thought you’d be caught up in all that.”
“I should’ve called you sooner, but I wanted to call with happy news, and thank goodness I can.”
“I’m so sorry I left things in such a state that this could’ve happened. I remember when those awful Minton boys were digging holes everywhere. Roger Minton and his cousin were building forts or traps or something. Once they built a dam and caused the creek to flood. Your Uncle Cliff complained they were messing around at the old schoolhouse. I told their parents. But that’s neither here nor there. Suppose you had been injured while rescuing her? Horrible. I’ll tell Meg I have to leave now.”
“No!” The word sounded more explosive than intended. She didn’t want Barbara to come home. If she did, there’d be no reason for Sandra to stay on. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll keep you informed about Honey, but she’s doing well. I wanted you to know because I’ll have to use the cash you left to pay the vet.”
“Oh, that. Oh, goodness.”
“Thanks for leaving the money. That was good thinking.” Sandra was trying to be reassuring and uplifting.
It wasn’t enough for Aunt Barbara.
“I’ll give them a call,” she said.
Sandra wanted to say no, but she bit her lip. She didn’t want them to tell Aunt Barbara that Honey had been missing since the first day. That would make Sandra sound like a liar. “No need,” she said. “They’re probably closed for the day anyway. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thank goodness you were there, Sandra. What on earth would I have done if she’d disappeared while I was home? I can’t walk that far anymore, and I don’t like to walk that way anyhow.” She coughed, and when she spoke again, her voice was perkier. “Your mama surely knows that by now, though she’s determined to rejuvenate me. I’m so glad you were there to handle it, and I hope it hasn’t been too hard on you.”
“No, ma’am. I’m good. I’m thankful I could call you and tell you it’s all over now and that there’s a happy ending.” She added, “One more thing?”
“What, dear?”
“I had to borrow some of your clothing. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, my dear. Take whatever you need.”
They disconnected. Sandra sank onto the sofa in relief. Done, and with a good ending. She bounced back to her feet. She was hungry. Famished. She walked into the kitchen and debated whether she should defrost that steak in the microwave or choose something else. She paused at the kitchen door. The garden was a mess, and she was responsible for that.
Colton said he’d be back with an estimate. And Aaron had put so much effort into measuring and planning. What would she tell them?
Maybe the vet wouldn’t cost as much as she feared. Maybe she could still afford the fence materials, at least for a small area.
She also had to tell Colton and Aaron that she’d found Honey. At least that much.
Sandra left the microwave to work its defrosting magic on the steak and went back to the living room. She picked up her phone and the slip of paper with Colton’s number. She stepped out to the porch. An evening chill was settling in as the sun set, but it felt refreshing.
Tell him about Honey, she told herself. Don’t spoil this conversation with money stuff. She would tell him they needed to discuss it but leave it at that for tonight.
She dialed his number. It rang, and as she waited, a breeze kicked up, and something on the porch banister caught her eye. She stepped down a few steps for a closer look.
Colton’s voice mail answered, but Sandra couldn’t speak. She flipped the phone closed.
Her jacket was hanging on the post.
And it hadn’t gotten there on its own.
CHAPTER TEN
The jacket was an “I could’ve but didn’t” message courtesy of Trent.
He could have done whatever he wanted, but this time, he hadn’t.
Sandra’s mind raced. She had watched him drive away. He must’ve returned while she was bathing.
Sandra was acutely aware that her choices, her actions, would determine his next step, and the result would be her fault. That’s how Trent operated. She’d been caught in his game many times before.
The yard was empty, as was the dirt road. Trent was gone now. She hoped.
She took her jacket from the post. As she went back into the house, the phone rang. Colton, she thought. But no, it wasn’t Colton.
“Sandra, how are you? What is Barbara telling me about Honey?”
“Hi, Mom. Nice to talk to you, too.” Sandra closed the front door and locked it.
“Sorry. Barbara
is going on and on, all but distraught, and I need to know what actually happened.”
“Exactly what I told her. The dog went missing.” She paused in front of the bookcase shelf where the photographs were arranged. She tweaked the position of Barbara and Honey’s photo. “I looked all over and couldn’t find her. She was down at the old schoolhouse. Rather, under it. There’s a very large hole under it, a muddy pit, and the dog couldn’t get out on her own.” Sandra touched the photo of her mother and Barbara posing in front of a bank of blooming azaleas. “Why is it always my fault?”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“The dog got out of the fence through no fault of mine. The fencing is a disaster, by the way. Please don’t tell Aunt Barbara I said that. I’m trying to fix it for her.”
“I didn’t say it was your fault, but your aunt goes on and on sometimes. Should she come home?”
“No, everything is fine. The only concern is for Honey, and the vet is monitoring her overnight. If anything happens, I’ll let her know immediately.”
“Are you sure you can handle a sick dog?”
Sandra blew out a frustrated breath. She turned the photo to face the wall, then moved across the room, aggravated. She tossed a skein of yarn at the chair and wanted to kick something, but she was barefoot and didn’t.
Mom added, “I knew something was wrong when we weren’t hearing from you.”
“I’ve been here less than a week.”
“When things go wrong for you, you go underground. You go quiet.”
“I might as well, for all the good it ever did me to confide in you.”
“You’re in your thirties.”
“Barely thirty.”
“Exactly. If you don’t like something about your life, Sandra, then make better choices. Make better decisions, set goals, and stick with them. Don’t allow others to derail you.”
Heat raced through her. She tried to control it but couldn’t. “One thing I know is that I did everything you and Dad ever asked of me, whether I wanted to or not. I did it for you two because I love you. Where did that get me?”
