Saving Sarah

by Nan Reinhardt

  Sarah’s heart sped up when his dimples showed. “Did you guys do all this after I left this morning?”

  “Yup,” said Will with a grin. “We thought you’d never leave. Weren’t you even a little suspicious that Julie was practically yanking you out the door?”

  “No kidding,” added Perry from his spot between Carrie and Margie. “We were all hiding in the carriage house waiting for you to get the heck out so we could start work.”

  Carrie came down the steps. “It’s not a six-foot wrought-iron fence or razor wire, but it’s one more small barrier. A little extra protection since you’ll be living here. We thought it worked well with the house and the porch. Plus”—she ran to the gate and when she closed it, it squeaked loudly—“I asked Henry not to oil the hinges, so you’ll hear it when someone opens the gate.”

  Tears pricked at Sarah’s eyes. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she caught Tony’s eye, and he gave her a wink and a barely perceptible nod. “It’s amazing. Thank you—all of you. And the squeak—what a gift!”

  Julie put an arm around her shoulders. “There’s more.”

  Stopping a few feet from the bottom of the stairs, Sarah looked askance at the group of friends grinning down at her, then turned to Julie, who was clearly bursting with news. “What else are you guys up to?”

  Head cocked, Julie took a deep breath. “Well, here’s the thing. We decided the shelter needs a name. Something that speaks to what we’re doing here and, more importantly, why we’re doing it.”

  “Okay.” Sarah crossed her arms. “A name is good idea.”

  “Glad you think so. We got together last week and talked about it—and frankly, sister, your name kept coming up.” Julie offered the endearing smile that experience had taught Sarah meant she was up to something. “You are the reason we’re all here. You inspired me to do this, to be a part of the network in Michigan, and to ask the village to participate.”

  “Huh-uh. No way.” Sarah held up one hand, her heart in her throat at the thought of the Sarah Bennett Women’s Center. Ye Gods. “Please don’t tell me you’re naming this shelter after me.”

  “We’re not.” Carrie stepped forward, a huge smile on her face. “We wanted to honor you, though, your courage and your commitment to the cause of battered and abused women. This place is beautiful—and it’s you who inspired all of it. Even more significant is that you are the one who’s going to be serving the women who show up here, giving them a piece of your courage to help them on their way.”

  “And although not everyone knows your story,” Julie cut in, “that’s yours to share when and if you choose, I knew the one way we could honor you and the work you’ll be doing here. We all agreed the shelter name needed to be not only hope, but also remembrance.” She and Carrie led her up the steps as the group parted like the Red Sea at the touch of Moses’s staff.

  “Julie... What—” Sarah clamped her lips shut at the sight of the discreet bronze plaque next to the front door. A rectangle with a curved top and bottom, embossed with a design of elegant woven flowers and vines that surrounded three words: Macy’s Garden Gate.

  “Garden because gardens are happy and beautiful places,” Carrie explained quietly. “And Gate because this shelter is a gate to a new future for the women who will pass through here. Not a place to stay, but a safe haven while they regroup for a new life of freedom.”

  “And Macy because she’s the reason you found the courage to leave your abusive situation and begin again,” Julie added.

  Sarah pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from bursting into tears, unable to speak as she gazed at the bronze sign. She closed her eyes for moment, thinking how blessed she was in this little town with these dear, dear people. How could they possibly have known that choosing this name was the perfect way to remember her daughter, to always have Macy close to her heart? She wanted to say something, but if she opened her mouth, she’d only weep at this point and possibly send the wrong message to her friends who waited in tense silence for her reaction.

  A warm hand on her elbow tugged her back against a firm chest and Tony leaned down to whisper, “Is this okay? If it’s too much for you, we’ll take it right down and start over.”

  Galvanized by his words, she gave him a tremulous smile before turning to the folks gathered around her. “It’s more than okay. It’s exactly”—she took a deep breath, no longer trying to keep the tears from running down her cheeks—“exactly the right name for the shelter. I couldn’t have chosen better myself.” Gripping Tony’s hand, she gazed around, meeting each and every person’s eyes. “Thank you all so much for this”—she touched the plaque with trembling fingers—“for everything. You all mean the world to me.”

  Margie gathered Sarah close in a hug. “You’re sure, honey? It was a risk, but it felt so right to us.” When she leaned back, tears glistened in her eyes.

  “It is right. Perfect and so right,” Sarah said, smiling through her tears as Margie passed her to Libby for an embrace, then to Perry, and on down the line until she’d been thoroughly hugged and stood beside Tony again.

  He tucked her close against his side and kissed her forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” His soft words were for her ears only and she touched her lips to his stubbled cheek. “Now, you have to cut the ribbon for the official opening of Macy’s Garden Gate,” he announced in a normal voice.

  A wide yellow satin ribbon hung across the intricate wooden screen door that Henry and Liam had painstakingly sanded and repainted to match the porch. Julie stepped up with a pair of scissors. “We didn’t invite the whole town, even though the grand opening of Macy’s Garden Gate is a reason to celebrate, because it’s probably time to start downplaying the attention we’re getting. We didn’t think the newspapers needed to be here, so this is our own private celebration.” Handing the shears to Sarah with a smile, she added. “Go ahead. Cut the ribbon. There’s so much to show you inside.”

  * * * *

  Exhausted and exhilarated, Sarah dropped onto a high-backed stool at the newly installed gathering table in the center of the shelter’s roomy kitchen. Around the table sat Carrie and Liam, Henry and Sophie, Julie and Will, and, of course, Tony. She couldn’t stop the satisfied little sigh that escaped.

  “You okay?” Sophie asked, patting her knee before helping herself to the bottle of wine that was making its way around the table.

  Sarah smiled and nodded, her heart so full that she couldn’t find words to express her gratitude and love for her friends.

  They’d stayed to clean up after a delightful grand opening celebration that included music cranked up on a stereo donated by Bertie from the yarn shop, tours of the facility, and food—sandwiches, fresh fruit, a plate full of crudités with dip, chips and salsa, and two of Carrie’s delicious three-layer orange-coconut cakes. The eight of them had put in the last load of dishes and, except for the wine they were finishing, all the leftovers were in the refrigerator or sent home with the other board members.

  “The dishwashers got a pretty good inauguration,” Carrie observed as the machine hummed quietly in the background. “I’m glad we installed two. Maybe we should’ve gone with paper plates, but I wanted you to see the stuff Drew and Holly from the Fishwife donated. They’re in the process of updating the dishes and cutlery, so we’ve got service for thirty-six here in the kitchen, the butler’s pantry is full, and there are several more boxes downstairs in storage. I love the white pottery with the embossed border. It’s pretty and sturdy, and to tell the truth, it’s where we got the idea for the design on the name plaque.”

  Swallowing a sip of wine over the lump in her throat, Sarah shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe how generous this town is. Drew and Holly could’ve traded those in at the restaurant supply place. And Perry and Carla’s leather furniture looks fantastic in the front parlor. They said they were in the market for new sofas and chairs anyway, but who knows?” She swiped at her cheek after a tear leaked out. “And the bedrooms—I can’t
believe you guys hauled all that stuff in here so quick.”

  “Everything’s just stuck in the rooms right now. Nothing’s in place and there’s still plenty to do what with hanging blinds and digging through boxes for curtains and towels and stuff. Plus there’s art to hang,” Carrie said.

  “Uh oh, hanging blinds, curtains, and art.” Liam chuckled. “She didn’t say my name or yours”—he gestured around the table at the other men—“but she may as well have.”

  “Ouch!” Will groaned, although Sarah could tell it was good-natured. “Hanging the art in Julie’s condo almost caused me to get a divorce…if I were married, that is.” He gave Julie a pointed stare.

  She simply fluttered her lashes at him. “I’m yours, baby. Who needs a piece of paper?”

  “I do.” Will gave her puppy dog eyes. “Marry me, Julianne. Make an honest man out of me.”

  But Julie only kissed him and turned to Carrie. “Is there any cake left?”

  “Jeez, Jules, how can you possibly be hungry again?” Sophie asked, but then Henry agreed more cake was definitely in order.

  He rose to get the cake out of the fridge, even as the others laughed and ribbed him mercilessly about his notorious sweet tooth. In spite of the teasing, they all fell on the rest of the dessert with gusto, dirtying more plates and forks. Henry passed around generous slices while Julie dabbed a fingerful of orange-coconut frosting on Will’s lips and kissed it away, and Liam fed Carrie a bite of the delicious treat from his own fork.

  Sarah savored the clamor of chatter and merriment. She’d missed so much during her first marriage. Dinner parties at the Prescotts had been staid formal affairs—elegant with candlelight and expensive china and crystal. People around the table spoke quietly, dividing their time equally between the person on their right or left. Joking, laughing out loud, sharing food—that kind of silliness was simply not acceptable.

  A dollop of frosting dropped from her fork to her round-neck knit shirt, landing right below her collarbone. Before she could dab it with her napkin, Tony swiped it away and popped his finger in his mouth while his eyes twinkled. “I think I’ve found a whole new way to enjoy Carrie’s cake,” he said, dimples bracketing a devilish smile.

  Heat suffused Sarah’s cheeks as she leaned away from his seeking fingers. “You are incorrigible, my friend.”

  He managed an affronted expression for about five seconds. “Excuse me? I’m not the one licking icing off her significant other’s lips.” He grinned fiendishly at Julie and Will while Liam and Sophie yawned in unison.

  “I think we’re all getting punchy,” Carrie declared, rising from her stool to rinse off the cake plate. “Come on, Maestro, I’m taking you home.”

  “Looks like I need to tuck Sophie in too.” Henry stacked plates as people scraped the last of the cake onto their forks. “We’ll take the trash to the dumpster on our way out since we’re all parked in back anyway.”

  Suddenly, a thought occurred to Sarah. “Guys, I want to do something for all the volunteers who helped. I was thinking maybe a fall picnic here in the yard, but then I realized I don’t want to do social stuff here. It’ll draw attention to us. Do you think we could do it in the harbor park? Or maybe a big bonfire down at the beach?”

  “I’d love a beach fire. We haven’t done a single one yet this year and summer’s practically over.” Sophie carried plates and forks to the sink to give them a quick rinse. “Let’s do it on our beach. Henry’s collected a bunch of driftwood down there.”

  “Sure,” Henry agreed. “We’ve got plenty of parking in the lot across the road from our place, plus I think everybody on Beach Road volunteered here this summer, so there are five driveways.”

  “A lot of folks will walk up the beach from town anyway,” Tony put in as he tied up trash bags and set them by the mudroom door.

  Carrie pulled the ever-present notebook from her capacious purse that hung on the back of her chair. This pad had bejeweled dragonflies on it. “I’ll start a list of stuff we’ll need—hot dogs, buns, chips.” She wrote furiously.

  “Don’t forget stuff for s’mores,” Will said, and Carrie jotted more in her tidy script.

  She glanced up expectantly. “Sarah, you and I can go into the city and grab everything from Costco. What’s a good day? How about”—she pulled her phone out of her pocket—“two weeks from Saturday? That gets the start of school out of the way.”

  When everyone immediately reached for their phones to check calendars, Sarah’s heart swelled again and she blinked to keep the tears at bay.

  This town, dear God, this town.

  A simple request became a beach party in seconds. It was as if all she had to do was make a wish and Willow Bay made it happen. All of Paul Prescott’s money and prestige back in Georgia couldn’t even begin to buy the huge hearts of the people in this little village. She bit her lip and then spoke. “Hey?” Raising her voice to be heard over the cacophony of voices comparing dates and times, she said, “Carrie?”

  Carrie glanced up from tapping the screen on her phone. “What?”

  “This is on me, okay?” Sarah held out her hand. “Give me the list. I want your help, absolutely, but I’m paying for this.”

  The room hushed so that the only sound was the hum of the dishwashers as seven pairs of eyes turned toward her. “I love you all for hopping onboard at my every little desire, but you have to promise to let me start pulling my own weight. At least let me pay for this party.”

  “Sarah, we can—” Carrie snapped her mouth shut at Sarah’s quirked brow.

  “Please, it’s important to me. I’ve saved almost all the money I earned at the Chicago shelter, so I can handle it, plus you’re paying me a good salary. I want to thank everyone who’s supported me and taken me in without any questions because”—she took a deep breath—“I’m going away soon. I’m staying long enough to get the shelter going and help you hire a good manager, but then I’m leaving Willow Bay.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Sarah could see that her announcement had stunned everyone, particularly Tony, who dropped a trash bag and stared at her, curiosity and dismay evident in his eyes. “Come on, everybody sit for a second.” She circled her hand to encompass the whole group.

  Sophie turned off the water and dried her hands on a tea towel as the others settled back into their chairs around the table. “Sarah, what are you talking about?” She tossed the towel on the counter and plopped onto the stool next to Henry’s. “You’re finally settled and happy. Why would you leave?”

  Sarah folded her hands in front of her. “I have to go. You all have become my dearest friends and”—she met Tony’s hard stare—“that’s why I have to leave. Paul Prescott is going to show up here one day and I can’t risk him hurting one of you…or anyone in the village.” She held up one hand at the chorus of protestations.

  “You don’t know that he’ll find you.” Carrie’s brow furrowed. “And we do know how awful he is.”

  “You think you know.” With an effort, Sarah tore her gaze from Tony and glanced around the table. “He wants me, that’s true enough, but he’s so determined to have what he believes is rightfully his, he would rather see me dead than happy with anyone else. And he’ll go right through anyone to get to me.”

  Julie gasped. “Oh, Sarah! Do you truly believe that?”

  Sarah nodded vehemently. “Absolutely, I believe it. I realize now that I panicked after he was convicted, and I ran when I should have stayed there and figured out my life, planned my escape better. I probably would’ve ended up with more than the cash I found stashed in his desk. Who knows what the hell he had in the safe in his office, but I had no way to get into it. He was in jail and he couldn’t get to me, but he had people on the outside who would do his bidding and that scared the crap out of me.

  “He was taking kickbacks and bribes from contractors and companies who wanted favors from the bank his family owned. They owned practically the whole town, and even though he already had more money than he cou
ld ever spend in one lifetime, he still wanted more. It was a control thing, you know—making people pay him under the table because they were afraid of him. He’s a thug. A gangster like Al Capone, without the double-breasted suits and spats.” She hoped her grim chuckle would lighten the moment just a little; however, everyone else simply gaped at her. “And he’s vicious. He’d have no compunction about getting rid of anyone who got in the way of what he believes is his property.”

  Julie’s jaw dropped. “You aren’t his property, Sarah Jane Bennett. Don’t ever refer to yourself that way.”

  Sarah’s heart ached. She didn’t want to hurt these dear, dear people, but once that bastard figured out where she was, he’d stop at nothing to get to her. And before he took her, he’d hurt her most effectively by destroying the lives of her friends. Oh, nothing as dramatic as a bloodbath at the Daily Grind. She shuddered, remembering the nightmare that had yanked her from peaceful sleep the previous night. No, he’d never come with guns blazing. He was too clever and subtle for that. Little accidents would start happening in town. Liam’s boat might mysteriously catch fire or Bertie would be hit by a speeding car as she rode her bike to the yarn shop one morning. “Thanks to all of you, I’ve learned that I’m not anyone’s property. I’m much stronger now, which is why I have to go. I have to make sure he can never hurt anyone I love—not ever again.”

  “So, what? You’re just going to run for the rest of your life?” Tony asked, a muscle working in his jaw. He dropped into the stool he’d been standing behind, straight and stiff as an arrow.

  She took a deep breath, unwilling to meet his eyes because the pain in those brown depths was killing her. “I don’t know. Maybe. I was actually thinking about Europe. My brother’s in Germany and he would help me find a safe place over there. Not near his family, of course, I’d never agree to that, but somewhere.” She gave them all a sad little smile. “I thought I’d found a safe place in Chicago, but Paul found me, and he’ll find me again. This time it’s different. You all have empowered me, given me back myself, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” She hesitated, gazing at the faces of her friends. “So you see? That’s why I have to go.”