by J. L. Jarvis
Down the stairs Allison crept, and along the narrow hallway to the back door. Without a sound, she closed the door behind her. The floorboard creaked and her shoulders jerked in fright.
“It’s alright,” said the familiar voice. She flew to him as he enveloped her waist and shoulders with sturdy arms. His chest pounded against hers. “It’s alright,” he repeated as he stroked her hair and her face. He was strong and warm, and she felt safe.
Silent moments passed before she lifted moist lashes and whispered, “If you’re my Dutchman, then why am I the one feeling lost at sea?”
“If you are, then I’m lost with you.”
Their mouths met, and each touch sparked new warmth until they clutched at each other, afraid they would burn with need. Beneath wounds and scars, their souls fit, compelled to complete one another.
A sound from the house, of wood creaking, broke into the intimate silence and forced them to part.
“It’s the wind,” Samuel said, but he didn't sound certain.
Allison stepped away to the edge of the porch and took hold of the rail. Samuel sat across from her on the steps, looking off into the night sky. Properly distant, they waited and listened. But before long the dark made them daring. The quiet night kept at bay all the world and its judgment. Samuel moved closer and clasped Allison’s hand. Her heart broke from sorrow and rapture. She leaned her head on his shoulder and stared at the sky. It was clear. “Why is there never a shooting star when you have a wish?”
“There’s no star big enough.” He touched his lips to her fingers. “A falling star that big would destroy the world.”
“Or change it for the better.”
He looked down at the ground. “Minds don’t change.”
“But if people could just see—”
He shook his head. “They would see me, a man of color, with you, a white woman. They would see but not think beyond that,” Samuel said.
Allison’s eyes dimmed. “So we’re both like your story—both Flying Dutchmen. And for daring to love, we’re condemned to sail for eternity, alone and shunned by all.”
He was still for a moment, and then said gravely, “No, we still have a choice.”
Samuel stared into the trees with eyes darker than night. “I don’t want what lurks ahead for you if you’re with me.”
“It’s no life if I can’t be with you.”
Samuel held both her hands in his, studying them. He shook his head and then brought her hands to his lips. “I would spare you so much if I ended this now.”
“You can’t mean that.”
Samuel touched his fingers to her lips to quiet her, as he leaned his forehead against hers.
Allison whispered, “You’d condemn us to live out our lives alone and apart?”
He took her face gently in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I must love you enough to do what’s best for you.”
Allison started to turn from him, but he held her face and leaned closer. Their lips nearly touched as he said, “But know this: my love for you will drive every thought, every action.
“And your love will break me.” She buried her face in his neck as he tightened his arms about her. “I'm lost. You are water and air, and you’d leave me to wither without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere right now.”
“But you will.”
“Not unless I’m forced.”
“Forced?”
“If someone found out.”
Faint hope brightened her eyes. “We’d run away!”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She said, “Not now but someday.”
Samuel shook his head. “Do you really think it’s that easy?”
Allison met his questioning eyes with defiance.
He said, “Allison. There is no happily ever after for us. We’d have no one—no home—no family. You don’t understand how that feels.”
“Maybe not, but I know what it’s like to see you close enough to touch, and yet out of my reach. I know how it feels in a room full of people when your gaze rests on me for an instant, and I have to conceal how you’ve made my face flush.”
Samuel trailed his thumb over her cheek.
“I know that my heart is so full…” Her words caught in her throat, and she couldn't go on.
With a glance toward the cottage windows, he took hold of her hand and led her into the trees, where the shadows would hide them. Allison followed knowing she would do so forever.
Beneath the night shadows of trees, they pressed their bodies together, leaving behind all the troubling thoughts. Ignoring their fears, they gave life to their longing. The wind blew and a leafy twig brushed against them.
Samuel looked up suddenly, and then relaxed when he saw that no one was there, only branches that swayed in the darkness.
“It’s just the wind,” said Allison.
Samuel smiled wryly. “Even the wind is against us.”
Allison clung to her hope. “We're stronger. What we have is true.”
“The truth may wage a good fight against hatred, but we’ll bear the wounds from that battle.”
She covered his mouth with her hand, and then buried her face in his neck, willing the world to be still. He lifted her chin, and they kissed. Letting go of their sorrows, their bodies were one. No more words passed between them, but the wind stirred the trees, and the leaves whispered.
Maggie opened the door, still smiling from memories of her day at the lake. She peeked through the curtains to watch Andrew drive off in the runabout. A muffled voice from the kitchen broke her reverie. Pencils and sketches lay strewn about the floor. Maggie rushed through the door to the kitchen, where she found Beth on the floor with Hank bent over her. His hands covered her mouth and nose. Her arms were flailing. A helpless Robin looked on in horror with a wooden embroidery hoop clutched in her hands.
Maggie jumped on Hank’s back and pounded him with her fists. It was only enough to distract him so Beth could catch a few gasps of air. She cried, “Robin, get Jake!”
He swatted Maggie away with one powerful arm as he turned his head and said, “Get out!”
Robin dropped the hoop and ran out the door.
Maggie fell back across the floor. Her head grazed the hearthstone. She reached out her arm to pull herself up. Her hand landed on the bellows. Energy coursed through her and sharpened her mind. As she pulled herself up, she had only one purpose: to stop Hank. Bellows in hand, she lunged across the room and struck him on the head. He barely flinched as he pivoted toward her. His heavy hands pulled down her shoulders until her balance faltered and her knees surrendered. He stooped over to finish the job.
“I told you to stay out of this!”
Maggie kicked him and scrambled away, but Hank caught her by the ankle and yanked her back. Beth lay coughing and gasping for air. Hank grabbed Maggie by the throat.
“You think you’re so high and mighty.” With one powerful arm, he hurled Maggie away. Her back hit the wall, dislodging pots and pans, which then fell with a raucous clanging. Maggie slid to the floor. Her mouth hung open in astonished helplessness. She couldn't inhale. She couldn't exhale. Beth dragged herself over to Maggie, but she was too weak and too slow to escape Hank as he turned to deliver the final outpouring of wrath. Once more, he covered Beth’s mouth and nose, pinning her body down with his knee until she went limp.
Chapter 11
Maggie struggled to breathe. The door flew open. Jake looked about for the instant it took him to find Hank and bound over to wrench him off Beth.
“Hank! What the hell are you doing?”
Hank turned to strike Jake, but Jake landed a blow that sent Hank toppling clumsily to the floor. He quickly got back up and turned on Jake. He got one punch to Jake’s jaw before Jake’s brother, Will, arrived and joined in the struggle. Will was a year older, an inch shorter, with broad shoulders rock hard with muscle. It took both brothers’ strength to restrain Hank. Whether from liquor or madness his st
rength was uncommon. Blows that would have stopped most men seemed only to slow Hank down. Together Jake and Will finally pounded the fury from Hank and dragged him outside. Once through the door, Hank turned and swung at Will. For his effort, he was met with Jake’s fist at his jaw. It knocked him to the ground, where he remained unconscious.
Will looked at Jake in disbelief as he smeared some blood from his upper lip. “Something’s not right about that man.”
“That’s no man.” Jake forced the words out as he looked upon Hank with all the accumulated contempt he had tried to conceal for the sake of Maggie and Beth. He glanced toward the house, then down at Hank. “Keep an eye on him while I check inside.”
While Will kept watch, Jake dusted some dirt from his sleeves and walked up the steps, rubbing his knuckles. He glanced back one more time to be sure Hank was out.
When the back door swung open, Maggie jolted to her feet. Seeing Jake, she relaxed and knelt back down beside Beth, and stroked her hair from her forehead. “It’s only Jake. Shh…”
“Where’s Robin?” Beth asked in a raspy whisper.
“She’s fine. She’s with my mother,” said Jake from the doorway. He straddled the threshold, watching Hank from the corner of his eye. While Maggie ministered to Beth’s injuries, his mind raced with thoughts of what to do next. He would need to send someone down the street to call the doctor, but first he must deal with Hank.
Before Jake could suggest it, Maggie said, “Beth, let me get the doctor.” She helped Beth to her feet and walked her over to the bench.
“No.” Beth eased herself carefully into a sitting position, trying not to wince but looking all the more pained as a result of her efforts. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing a doctor can do for me.”
Maggie hoped she was right. Although battered and bruised, Beth could move her arms and legs.
“See? Nothing’s broken,” said Beth. “I’ll be fine.”
Maggie knew better than to argue with Beth. She could only look on with troubled regret, for events over which she had no control.
Jake shifted his weight as he looked out at Will. Will smirked back and shook his head, then continued his watch over the unconscious Hank. What strange force of nature could have brought together so unlikely a pair as Hank and Beth? Beth was everything that was good about life. Yet out of goodness and trust, she had made a bad choice. And Maggie—Maggie was the core of what mattered in life. She was strength and passion. If Beth was the sea, then Maggie was the heat beneath the earth’s surface: molten, intense, and entirely unaware of the damage she caused to his heart. A soft glance, a slight turn of the head, or a smile, and he ached to be with her.
Maggie turned weary eyes to him. How he yearned to pull her away from this house and its violence and the strain it produced on her face. He would take her to rest in his arms and carry her burdens as his own—if she would let him. She was strong, but even the strong become weary. Just now, she let down her guard and allowed him a rare glimpse of weakness. It was simple and honest. He loved her more for it. Which of the two was more surprised by that moment, he couldn't have said.
“Jake.” Will’s voice broke through.
Jake looked out to see Hank stirring. He cast a reassuring look at Maggie, and then focused his mind on Hank and what had to be done.
“Beth, a night in jail will calm him down and sober him up.”
Hank moaned and muttered something unintelligible while he tried to sit up. Something stopped him. It was Jake’s boot on his chest. “Hey—” But the pain in his clouded head kept him from saying more.
Jake’s eyes narrowed as he looked into Hank’s eyes. “Hank? You need to come with Will and me.”
Hank looked up at Jake with a vacant expression in his eyes. He was eerily calm.
“We’re taking you somewhere to sleep it off,” said Jake.
Hank sat passively. To Jake’s surprise, rather than put up the fight he expected, Hank nodded his head in confused acquiescence.
“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Jake helped Hank to his feet, still expecting a fight, yet getting none. By this time, Maggie had come to the door.
Jake looked up at Maggie. “I’ll be back in a while.”
She rushed to his side and whispered, “Where will you take him?”
“Where you two will be safe, and he can sleep it off.”
“Jail,” said Will.
Hank was unusually docile as Jake and Will led him around to the front of the house. Jake couldn't help but wonder if the man didn’t have a conscience, after all—not that he trusted in that.
“Now don’t make a scene, or I promise you’ll be sorry.”
Jake looked about the neighborhood. He didn't want to subject Beth and Maggie to prying questions from inquisitive neighbors. Fortunately, the neighborhood was deserted except for a drifter who sat leaning against a tree some way down the street.
With Hank gone, Beth wished she could cry away what gnawed at her heart. Instead, she went numb. Maggie brought her a cold cloth to put on her forehead, and then began to pick up the clutter from the kitchen. She put on a kettle of water for tea, and then sat down with Beth. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what happened?”
“I was teaching Robin how to cross stitch. I was looking at Robin’s stitches—telling her you have to do them the same way each time so the crosses look even on the front and the back. You know how sometimes it’ll look okay on the outside, but be a tangled mess on the inside. Then Hank walked in.”
Maggie watched with patient concern as Beth recounted the scene with unnatural calm.
“Hank said, ‘Beth, come here.’
“Just a minute. I just need to untangle these threads.
“And then his voice had that tone. ‘I said come here. That means now.’”
Beth looked at Maggie. “I should have known from the look in his eyes. He has a look. I can usually tell. I don’t know why I didn’t see it.”
Maggie put her hand on Beth’s shoulder, and then got up to take the tea kettle off the stove. She poured a cup as Beth continued.
“That’s all he said, really.”
Maggie set down a cup of tea on the table in front of Beth, who seemed not to notice it.
“I was setting down the cross stitching when he came up behind me and pulled me onto the floor.” Beth looked blankly ahead.
Maggie stared at the steaming cup.
Beth said, “I’m tired. I think I’ll lie down for a bit.” Beth looked at her sister with watery eyes in an expressionless face.
Maggie took her upstairs. She wished she could sleep now. Unlike Beth, worries cost Maggie sleep. She would be up tonight, mulling over the things that she couldn't control. She returned to the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee.
She thought back to when it all went so terribly wrong. Beth married shortly before her parents died. Although Hank’s behavior began almost immediately after the marriage, Beth kept it hidden. Perhaps she had not wanted to burden her parents, but she hid it even from Maggie. Why she did, Maggie could only try to imagine. It wasn't until Hank lost his job and they were evicted from their home that Beth came to Maggie for help. Their parents were gone by then. Robin was a baby, only a few months old. They moved in with Maggie and things seemed to get better with Hank. Jake helped him get a job at the steel mill. But Hank still had his dark times. Beth learned to work around them. Maggie learned to avoid him.
At first Maggie admired Beth for her tireless faith. But she watched as Beth put all her faith in prayer but none in herself. If only Beth had enough faith in her own power to take action and leave this man who caused her nothing but pain. She was afraid Beth put too much stock in concepts like “for better, for worse.” What bothered Maggie most of all was that she had become an unwilling participant. By allowing Hank to remain in her home, she allowed Beth to be hurt. At first it had been mostly emotional, but in the past year or so, as his drinking increased, it beca
me increasingly physical.
The house was quiet when Maggie heard Jake’s feet on the back porch steps. Before she could peek through the window, he said, “It’s me, Maggie.”
She opened the door and stepped aside in a silent invitation. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
He took a seat at the kitchen table, while Maggie reached for the coffeepot, then stopped and turned to Jake. She didn't know how clearly her face showed the feelings she struggled to express with words. “You’re always there for me—for us.”
“Maggie.” Jake looked at her as though his heart might break with longing. But the moment passed, and he turned away and stared into his coffee.
There was never a time when Maggie had wanted Jake’s arms about her as much as she did at this moment. She was tired of being strong and capable. For once, she wanted to let go. And Jake was there, as he always was when she needed him most.
Jake was explaining how they had taken Hank to the jail. He was being held for the night for disorderly conduct, but that was about all that could be done. Robin would spend the night at Jake’s, with his younger brothers and sisters. Everything was taken care of.
That was one of the things Jake did well. He took care of things. Maggie looked at him, solid and sturdy. The familiar pull to a safe shelter was so appealing for a young woman foundering in her own feelings. Jake knew everything about her, and yet he still cared. There he was, ready to shoulder the burden, when all she wanted to do was to hide. How easily she could lose herself in his arms, secure in the knowledge that he would take care of her.
But she didn’t want that, not really. Why would she have such thoughts when she’d just spent the day with Andrew? Andrew was everything she had always wanted. He was rich and romantic—dazzling. It was Andrew she loved. Of that she was sure.
Jake was…just Jake. He was solid. Everything was so clear for him, and that clouded her mind. His directness unsettled her. He had this way of looking at her that made her heart tremble.