by Robert Hass
“Because a kid called his mother a bad name.”
“Excuses don’t change the stripes on a tiger.”
“The Sloan I knew wasn’t perfect—” Her mother made a rude noise but Annie went on. For once, Mother was going to listen to reason. Annie was tired of her parents behaving as if Sloan was Typhoid Mary. “He was also gentle and kind, a champion of the underdog, though no one gave him any credit. If he took up for someone, he was the one who ended up in trouble.” Partly because he was too proud to tell the whole story. “I remember once when a bunch of kids were tormenting a poor cat with its head stuck in a salmon can. Instead of joining the crowd, Sloan chased the kids away and spent ten minutes gently freeing the hysterical cat.”
“Which is nice if it’s true.”
“I was there. I know it happened. Just as I know a lot of other good things about Sloan.” She gnawed at her lip. “I can’t help wondering what would have happened if he’d never left town. He was better to me than any boy I ever dated, including Joey.”
Her mother studied her with concerned eyes. “I don’t like the sound of your voice, Annie. You be careful. The last thing you need is to fall for him again.”
Annie pressed her lips together, and then with a sigh admitted, “I think I already have.”
Carleen sat back against the couch cushions, hand against her throat. “Honey, be sensible. That boy has never been good for you. He broke your heart.”
“That boy is a man. A good man.”
“You don’t know that. He’s been here a couple of months. You don’t know what he’s been up to for the last ten years.”
“Twelve.”
Her mother batted the air. “Whatever. The point is you’re a lonely divorcée who never had any sense when it came to men.”
Cut to the heart, Annie gasped. “Mother!”
“Well, I’m sorry, honey, but it’s true. Dad and I have tried to save you from heartache your whole life and you seem to chase it down. When you were a teen, we were frantic with worry over the way you threw yourself at Sloan. If you would have listened to reason in the first place, Dad would never have taken such drastic measures to get him away from you. But no, you wanted the town bad boy and nothing we could say made any difference.”
“Wait. Wait.” Annie held up both hands, her brain locked on one statement. “Back up. What do you mean Dad had to take drastic measures? I thought Sloan left because he was in trouble.” Her heart thumped with a sudden, frightening thought. “Did Daddy do something to make Sloan leave town? Is that what you mean?”
Her mother’s face paled. “I— What I mean is— Nothing, just nothing.” But she pressed fingers against each temple as if a headache threatened and Annie knew. She knew her mother was hiding something.
Her throat went dry. “Mother, tell me what you’re talking about. Tell me.”
Carleen swung her body away, fist pressed against her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did and now I have to know. Did Daddy do something to make Sloan leave? Was there more to the burglary charge than I know about?”
Her mother took a shaky breath. “Your daddy was beside himself with worry. He was scared his little girl was getting too involved with the wrong boy and he had to do something.”
“What kind of something?” Annie’s voice rose. Certain her heart was going to explode, she pressed the photo albums against her chest.
“Please don’t tell your daddy I told you this. There was no burglary.”
Annie’s mouth dropped open. “Sloan was innocent?”
“Yes.” Carleen’s hands twisted in her lap. She looked away, unable to meet Annie’s eyes. “Don’t hate us, honey. We did what we thought was best for our child. You’re a parent. You understand that.”
Did what? What did they do? Annie’s brain reeled with the implications, most of which still made no sense. “I don’t understand. If Sloan knew he was innocent, why did he leave?”
“I told you, the charge wasn’t burglary.”
“What was it?” What crime was so terrible that Sloan would leave and never look back?
Head down, Mother’s answer was a tired whisper. “Rape.”
“Rape?” Annie nearly shouted. “Of who?”
Carleen’s expression was haunted as she turned to her daughter. “You.”
Chapter Fourteen
Annie couldn’t breathe. She was smothering. Absolutely smothering. Desperate, she rolled down the window of her car, cranked the A/C full blast and drove faster.
This was unreal. It could not be happening. Sloan had been accused of raping her?
A hysterical giggle erupted, completely out of line with what was going on inside her body. Nausea rolled through her. Sweat beaded on her face and neck.
Lies. Deceit. Ruined lives. Mother and Daddy had no idea the twisted set of circumstances they’d set into motion on prom night twelve years ago.
Why hadn’t Sloan told her the truth? Why had he run away instead of facing the false accusation?
She turned down the lane toward the Hawkins’s house, gravel spewing out behind. She slammed on the brakes and was out of the car before it stopped rocking.
“Sloan!” she cried. Her feet hit the porch running.
The door opened and Sloan was there.
“Annie, what’s wrong?” Sloan gripped her shoulders, blue eyes wide with concern. “The kids? Where are the kids? What’s happened?”
The sheer panic in his voice calmed her. He was worried about her kids. Dear Lord, she loved him so much. How could this have happened? “At Mother’s. They’re fine. It’s not them. It’s you.”
“Me?” He blinked in confusion, worry lines deepening. “I’m fine, but you’re shaking all over. Come inside out of the heat and tell me what’s going on.”
Sloan slid an arm around her waist and gently drew her inside. Gratefully, Annie leaned into him, afraid her knees wouldn’t hold her much longer.
“Sit,” he commanded. “I’ll get you some water.”
Numbly, she slumped onto the couch and wrapped her arms around her waist. Her stomach hurt. Her heart hurt. Oh, what had her parents done to her—and to this good man?
Sloan returned with a glass of ice water and crouched in front of her. “Drink this.”
She could feel him watching her while she gulped half the contents, letting the cold calm the fire in her belly. When she finished, he took the glass and set it aside.
“What happened? Are you all right?” He balanced on his toes in front of her, watchful.
“Mother told me something tonight.” Annie took a breath that didn’t quite satisfy the air hunger. She felt as if she’d been punched and no amount of breathing would ever again be enough. “She didn’t intend to but she did.”
“What kind of something?”
“About you, about prom night twelve years ago.”
Sloan went still. “Yeah?”
“She said Dad accused you of rape.”
A beat of silence and then the cautious reply. “Now you know.”
She searched his face. He was still hiding something. But what? “Stop hedging, Sloan. You were accused of raping me. And we both know that’s a lie.”
He looked toward the ceiling, then pushed to a stand and turned his back. “She shouldn’t have told you. I didn’t want you to know.”
“Why? Why, Sloan?” Annie grabbed his arm and pulled him around. “I would have testified on your behalf no matter what my parents thought. Why didn’t you give me the chance to defend you?”
Sloan rubbed his hands down his face. “Think about what you just said, Annie. Think about it. If I had stayed to fight, everyone in town would have known about the charges. The gossips like Roberta Prine would have gone wild. You were a nice girl. I couldn’t do that to you.”
“I don’t understand—” But suddenly comprehension flooded her. “Oh, Sloan. My wonderful Sloan. You left to protect my reputation, didn’t you?”
Expression hard
and controlled, he nodded. “If I’d known you were pregnant, nothing and no one could have made me leave. But your dad knew he had an ace in the hole. He knew I loved you enough to protect you if I could. He tossed the options on the table and I saw no choice but to do as he demanded.”
Slowly, Annie rose from the sofa. Years of self-doubt fell away as she touched Sloan’s face.
“You loved me that much.” Sloan hadn’t abandoned her. He’d left to protect her, and he’d gone on protecting her with his silence until today.
“I did.” His throat worked for a moment before he said, “Still do.”
The tragic beauty of his sacrifice welled inside her until tears of grief and regret broke free. “All this time, I wondered what I had done to drive you away.”
“Oh, Annie girl, don’t cry. You never did anything. Don’t you know that? Not one thing other than give me hope.” Tenderly, he drew her to him until she was cradled against his broad chest. Tears rolled over her cheeks and onto his shirt-front as she let go of twelve years of self-doubt and heartache. Sloan loved her. He always had.
Emotion boiled inside Sloan like hot lava. Seeing Annie cry tore him apart. At the same time, a load lifted from his shoulders. Annie knew the truth. He’d never wanted her hurt that way, especially with all the events that had been set into motion that long ago night. He wondered if Dooley would have gone ahead with his plan to get rid of the town bad boy if he’d known Annie was pregnant? Probably. The chief would have wanted him gone even more.
Part of him wanted to rip Dooley’s head off and make him pay for the harm he’d inflicted. But another part of him knew he wouldn’t be the man he was today if he hadn’t been forced into the military. Aunt Lydia hadn’t known the truth any more than Annie had, but she’d always told him God had a way of working things out. Sloan only wished the plan hadn’t been so hard on Annie.
With a sigh, he kissed the top of her soft hair and smoothed aside the tickling strands. What a tangled mess he’d unwittingly left behind.
“I’m sorry, pretty girl, for all the hurt I’ve ever caused you.”
A soft rustling sound came as she shook her head against his shirt front. “Not your fault. You were hurt, too. Daddy did this to both of us.”
She pulled back a little to look up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy and Sloan could no more keep from touching his lips to each one than he could bring his Aunt Lydia back from Heaven. He had loved this woman for so long. She had no idea the power she held over him.
His heart thundered in his chest. After all the water that flowed under Redemption Bridge, was there a chance he and Annie could start again? Now that the cat was out of the bag, what did they have to lose?
But he knew the answer before he asked. Dooley would always stand in the way. Annie loved her dad, and though Sloan despised his tactics, Dooley apparently wanted only the best for his daughter. So did Sloan.
Sloan had had so little of family in his own life he knew the value of relationships. Expecting Annie to choose was unfair. “I don’t want to come between you and your family.”
The corner of her mouth curved. “You always have.”
Sloan gave a short laugh. “Ah, Annie. What are we going to do now?”
She laid a palm against his cheek, soothing him as she’d done when he was a wild and angry boy. His eyes fell shut and he soaked her into his soul. Somehow, some way, he would make peace with Dooley Crawford for the sake of the woman they both loved.
Chapter Fifteen
Along time later, subdued and emotionally rent, Sloan and Annie sat side by side on the sofa talking and leafing through the photo albums Annie had inadvertently brought along. For now, peace flowed between them and the sweet joy of shared love.
She’d not said the words, but Annie loved him. Her love was in everything she did, as it had always been. Annie nurtured his broken soul with her smiles and gentle words.
His throat ached with loving her and with gratitude to God for bringing them to this moment. Maybe, God willing, they could make things work out, and he could be the father to his son and to Delaney that he had never had.
The idea scared him, but he would not let fear interfere with his life anymore. For it was fear he now knew that had kept him away from Redemption. Fear that Annie hated him. Fear that he would once again become the pathetic, despised bad seed of the murderer Clayton Hawkins and a woman who would abandon her child in the dark of night.
Annie was bent forward, her blond hair sweeping along her beautiful cheekbones, perusing the photos. Sloan tenderly brushed her hair behind one ear. She turned with a curious smile and his heart flip-flopped.
“Find anything interesting?” he asked. She’d shown him pictures of the two of them together and they’d laughed at their funny hairstyles. Nostalgia rolled through him, bittersweet. All his memories of Redemption were not bad after all.
Annie tapped a snapshot. “Mother took this at Amy Childers’s birthday party. Remember? You won the prize for spinning a basketball on your finger the longest.”
Sloan chuckled at the skinny youth. “Look at those muscles.”
“Scrawny like Justin.”
Annie flipped a page and a photo caught Sloan’s attention. He frowned and leaned forward, all frivolity disappearing. “What’s that?”
“What’s what? Oh, that picture of Daddy? His fortieth birthday, Mom said. I don’t remember it either.”
“No, not the picture. That.” Sloan’s pulse started to race. He put a finger on Dooley Crawford’s wrist.
“A watch Mom bought him for his birthday. Why?”
Flashes of memory flickered through Sloan’s head. Memories of the last time he’d seen his mother.
“No reason.” Sloan began to shake inside. If Annie knew the suspicions dancing through his brain, she’d walk out and never look back. “Does your dad still have that watch?”
“Mom said he lost it that same night. She was really upset with him.”
Suddenly, other things began to click into place. The dark, creased pants, the blue dress shirt, a man who didn’t fit the description of Mama’s usual drunken guest. And most importantly, the fancy turquoise bracelet with silver sunbursts.
Sloan squinted at the date on the photo. Alarms went off in his head. Dooley’s birthday matched the date of his mother’s disappearance. Coincidence? By itself, maybe. Coupled with the turquoise watch? No way.
“I thought it was a bracelet,” he murmured, finger tracing the telltale piece of jewelry. “But it was a watch.”
The man he’d seen through the crack in the door had not been a trucker who lured Mama away. Her visitor had been Dooley Crawford. Something was rotten in the Redemption Police Department.
“Sloan?” Annie sat back to gaze at him. “What are you talking about? Is there something about Daddy’s watch?”
Could the police chief possibly know more about his mother’s disappearance than he’d let on? Could he have done to Joni Hawkins what he’d done, years later, to her son?
There was only one way to find out.
Sloan yanked to a stand. “I have to go somewhere.”
“Where? Sloan, what’s going on? You look like a thunderstorm about to break.”
Maybe he was. “I need to talk to your dad about something.”
“About us? Sloan, don’t. You’ll only end up in trouble. Please don’t go.”
“I have to.” Afraid she’d stop him if he lingered, Sloan grabbed his keys and stalked out the door to his Harley. Annie followed, her frightened voice pleading with him to wait.
But he couldn’t. Too many years had passed while Dooley kept his secrets.
Tonight, Redemption’s police chief had some explaining to do.
The motorcycle skidded sideways as Sloan downshifted onto the gravel road leading to Dooley Crawford’s farmland. He’d stopped at the police station only to hear that the chief had left. According to Deputy Rainmaker, the chief usually drove out to check on his cattle before heading home. The locale
suited Sloan just fine. He wasn’t crazy about confronting the man in front of his wife, so this was better, and he knew the way to the Crawford farm. As kids, he and Annie had fished the pond and picked their fill of wild blackberries.
The iron gate was unlocked, and Sloan felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing he’d discovered Dooley’s whereabouts. A hay barn sat beyond the pond in a stand of trees, a barn he and Annie had discovered as teenagers. He regretted that now. She’d deserved more respect than he’d shown.
The police chief’s pickup truck was parked near the pond and twenty or thirty head of red Hereford cattle milled around. Sloan revved the Harley to make his presence known.
Dooley looked up. Even from this distance, Sloan knew he’d been recognized. The chief tossed a feed sack into the back of his truck and dusted his hands down his pantlegs before taking a wide, defensive stance.
No point pretending they liked each other.
Sloan parked the bike and walked across the dry, browning grass, fists tight at his sides.
God, help me do this right. I don’t want to hurt Annie.
All he wanted was information about his mother.
When he was close enough to watch Dooley’s face, he said, “What do you know about my mother’s disappearance?”
The question shocked the chief. No doubt about it. He blinked, eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”
“You were at our house the night she disappeared.”
“You’re crazy.”
Sloan gave a cocky laugh he didn’t feel. “Keep that in mind while we have this friendly little chat.”
Dooley’s face hardened. “Get off my property.”
“Can’t do it, Dooley. You’re going to tell me what you know. Why were you there? Don’t deny it. I saw you. I didn’t realize then but I do now.”
Crawford’s chest expanded in an attempt to intimidate. “Get moving, boy, or I’m going to put you in jail where you belong. Just like your rotten-to-the-core daddy.”
Twelve years ago, the statement would have been fighting words, and Sloan would have lost his cool and consequently, the battle. Dooley didn’t know it, but he wasn’t dealing with an undisciplined teenager anymore. “We’re talking about you, not me. What were you doing at my house that night?”