by Lark Watson
It wasn’t until we reached their new hometown that Saint finally interrupted her.
“Jane, where is it you’re headed?”
Saint’s question pulled me out of my role as spectator and back into the discussion.
“Is there a bus station downtown you could drop me at if it’s not too much bother?”
“Sure, we can do that.” Saint changed lanes as we turned off the busy four-lane road that headed into town, turning before the main road veered to the left.
We drove on in silence for a few moments before Saint spoke up again.
“So, Jane, where is it you’re heading from here?” he tried again.
Sharing my agenda with strangers, even kind ones, was not ideal. But I doubted this was a trio who would just nod and smile and put a girl out alone at a train station.
“I think I’ll check the schedules when I get to the station and make my full plan from there.”
Saint gave a low uh-huh from the front and continued driving.
“Maybe you should put my number in your phone in case something goes wrong,” he suggested.
“Oh, sure.” I nodded as if I were going to do that once I was on the way.
He waited, glancing up at me in the mirror. After a moment, I realized he was waiting to give it to me right now.
“Maybe you could just write it down for me when we stop?”
Saint and Laura did that thing again while Maggie started chattering beside me about the storefronts we drove past, the town just coming awake in the early hours.
“Jane,” Saint called my attention back to him. “Why did you take the battery out of your phone in the diner?”
I was surprised he’d not only noticed, but had made a note of it.
“It’s okay if you’re hiding from someone. We won’t tell where you are.” Laura had shifted so she could face me over the seats. “We know a lot of people who have had to take off from bad situations. If that’s you, we’ll help you out no question asked.”
At this point, Maggie had fallen silent next to me, looking me over with fresh eyes and the first tinge of worry I’d seen on her bright face since I’d met them.
“I’m not—I’m not in trouble.” How could I explain what I’d seen, what I’d been through, without making them think that I was in danger?
If I knew one thing it was that no matter how angry Mr. Thorneton might be with my disappearance—for his own pride and for my safety—I knew he’d never hurt me.
Not physically.
He’d already destroyed me emotionally, but I didn’t doubt that one mocking, scathing glance from him would break me further.
“I’m not in trouble—I mean, not the kind that could get you guys hurt or anything.”
“I’m more worried about you right now.” Laura reached over the seat and grabbed my hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “We can drop you off at the station, or we can help you figure out a better plan.”
I glanced toward the rearview mirror where Saint watched me and thought for a long moment. A plan would be good. I had left so suddenly and spent the entirety of the night’s walk thinking about what had just happened, not what needed to happen.
I’d replayed my moments with Thorne—Mr. Thorneton—over and over again in my mind and heart’s eyes. Then the aftermath—of it all. The fallout.
I should have spent the walk figuring out where to go, what to do. I’d only known that I had no path back. That the only way forward was through it all and then ahead.
“I’m just leaving a situation and—to be completely honest—it’s something that might wish to follow me.”
“Thus the phone and cash?” Laura gave me an encouraging smile.
“Yes.”
“And, if this situation finds you?” Saint asked, a thread of a threat in his voice. I had a feeling it wasn’t toward me but for me. He seemed to already have decided to take me on as another younger sister.
And, if it found me? I’m sure it would be ugly. Mr. Thorneton sweeping in and demanding I come home. Probably some type of security check on all three of the siblings. Lots of sarcasm that would upset and confuse Maggie. But nothing violent.
That’s if he bothered to come himself. If he wasn’t at Tower House caring for his wife.
Otherwise he’d send Micha who would check everything out, smile at the girls, glower threateningly at Saint, quietly do a background check and probably put some monitoring device somewhere.
That would be far preferable.
But, in my heart of hearts, I doubted anyone would come. Once everything settled, and the focus could be on anything other than the attack that had nearly blown us all to bits…by then I was sure Mr. Thorneton’s attention would be called to other pressing things.
I knew that the connection between us was real—I could feel the tear of it at such a basic level that my very soul ached. A separation of something that had finally been bound together.
He was a man looking for someone who not only was an equal, but who would stand and face him. I knew that now. I’d seen him with Ms. Ingram, using her own flirtations to further his agenda not only with her but with the other businessmen in the room—and finally with me. How could I not have expected that a man of his power would feel as though a woman needed to be tested before being allowed to draw near?
But, wasn’t that the way of all the great romance novels? I was to be not only the small mouse who drew the thorn from his paw, but also the one to challenge him and his overarching expectations of command and submission.
So, did I think he was coming for me?
I hoped so even as I prayed not.
Chapter 42
What followed surprised me, and yet shouldn’t have after my brief time with the set. They were shocked I had no plan and Saint seemed to instinctively understand I wasn’t comfortable reaching for my own resources.
He’d taken charge and moved me into their new home with them. It was finished, but many rooms were closed off to save energy as things were reworked to make the house more kid-friendly and less older-woman welcoming.
Saint had gotten a job nearby working as an accountant’s assistant and taking online classes at nights to get his associates degree with a promise of a raise. He apparently had a knack with numbers that the girls both claimed was unnormal. And so, while accounting sounded boring to me, it sounded easy and secure to him I supposed.
It had been decided Laura would keep house while Maggie went to college and Saint kept the budget running. It was old-fashioned to such an extreme that even my heavy-handed boss would have been confused, but it worked for them.
Me on the other hand…I kept picturing coming downstairs each morning to Mrs. Fairfax reorganizing everything to run as a big house should.
It took time to settle in, but after a month I stopped forgetting that this was my new life and focused on the fact that I was given yet another chance to make myself happy.
In turn, I found that I was welcomed and very few questions were asked—and those usually came from Maggie. She had such an innocence about her that I had a difficult time remembering she’d grown up in the same system as the rest of us and that magically Laura wasn’t somehow her mother.
To add to the household and to find my own spot, I took a job as a housecleaner. The older lady who sold them the house had lots of friends who needed cleaning, errands, and other odd household things done they just weren’t speedy enough to complete or able to drive to do any longer.
They paid me well, hourly, and under the table. It was the perfect set up. Plus, I found that most were more interested in telling their own stories than asking me mine. This left me free to focus on being an income-earning part of my new household and still allowing me to leave my old life behind.
There was an odd satisfaction in feeding into the economy of a household instead of taking from it as a servant. The weekly “family meetings” where we went over expenses and income, making decisions together were a fresh look at co-living. It wasn’t a
surprise to me that Saint made most of the decisions. It was as much that Laura allowed him to as he just did. And, for myself, I considered my role more one of renter than member, so anything was acceptable in regards to my own place.
The months went by and the house was nearly as perfect as any group of young people on a budget could make it. Laura came home one day, the paperwork in her hand for all of us to look over with her. It was the evening they put their signatures on it—Laura and Saint—they were ready to apply to be foster parents.
In celebration, Saint brought us out for cupcakes.
It was one step closer to their dream—dreams I had adopted as my own for lack of a better, more selfless way to live.
Chapter 43
Months passed and I fell into the family pattern the three had made. It was a comfort to be part of. I learned to leave the house without worry and to stop looking over my shoulder after the first month. The second month I doubted I’d have to worry at all.
The third month someone arrived on our doorstep.
“Jane.” Laura stood in the doorway, a worried look on her face. “There’s someone here to see you.”
She spoke calmly, but she knew I’d worked hard to keep myself quietly to myself. I felt a skip of my heart. Leaving it to fate if I were to be found. There was nothing to do except accept the way the path would weave.
“Who is it?” I asked, forcing myself not to rush below and see for myself.
“An older man, Mr. Alderman.”
I paused at the unfamiliar name. Had Mr. Thorneton sent a stranger to check on me. It did not fit as something he would do. I had expected Micha… or perhaps I had hoped he would come himself.
With a deep breath, I rose and straightened myself, preparing to walk back into the unknown.
In the sitting room, a man stood, back to the entrance looking out the front window. His distraction gave me a moment to study him. There was nothing of the men I’d see come and go at Tower House in him. Perhaps that’s why he’d been sent.
I took a step into the room as I heard Laura ushering Maggie to the kitchen at the rear of the house, as always respecting my privacy.
“Mr. Alderman?” I said, stepping into the room and closing the wide, tall door behind me.
He spun, seemingly surprised to be caught off-guard.
“Ms. Byrne? Ms. Jane Byrne?”
“Yes.”
“Formerly of Tower House?”
My heart leapt. “Yes.”
“And before that of Brookfield?”
I paused for the first time surprised. I hadn’t expected anything beyond Mr. Throneton’s man. It was dawning on me I’d perhaps expected incorrectly.
“Yes,” I answered because it was true and because my curiosity was piqued.
“Excellent.” He crossed to where a briefcase sat on a low table and lowered himself to the sofa behind it. “I have some paperwork for you to sign.”
I clasped my hands before me, studying him. Wasn’t it just like a man of business to breeze in, introduced himself so minimally, and expect signatures without explanations.
“Excuse me, Mr. Alderman, but may I ask who you represent and what you’re expecting my signature for.”
“Oh.” He looked taken aback as if he weren’t used to being unexpected. “Of course, forgive me. You are the Jane Byrne who spoke with Ms. Godfrey of Morton, Franklin, and Bellow this past year, are you not?”
Well, this was an interesting turn of events.
“I am.”
“Forgive me. It’s taken us so long to locate you that it didn’t occur to me to catch you up.” He glanced out the window again. “You are in the quiet out here, aren’t you?”
The town had grown on me, but I could see how someone traveling from the city would feel at too much of a distance here.
“We are, but the town has everything we need.” Somewhere along the line I had left my city roots behind and felt defensive of my new home.
“Oh, yes.” He pulled out the folder and set it in front of him, obviously ready to begin at the beginning.
With that, I sat across from him and waited.
“You were interviewed in the case of abuse and wrongful death at Brookfield. At that time you signed several documents. One was to have your deposition added to a civil action case if the offices moved forward. You were the last to be interviewed, so the time frame is even shorter. They did and the state pushed this case through quickly—and quietly. The case has been settled and as part of it, the state has issued you a check.”
He set an envelope and the papers to be signed in front of me. I glanced at the paperwork, wondering what would come of this, but knowing that a few thousand dollars would help the house and allow me to feel like I was putting more in than taking.
I went against form and reached for the envelope first, sliding the check out and nearly dropping it.
“This can’t possibly right.”
“It is. And honestly, I thought we’d have more for you.” A bit of the human snuck through his frozen expression. “I personally assisted on this case, and what you specifically went through with your friend goes so far beyond abuse. I’m sorry for your loss.”
I sat back, staring at it and changing every assumption about life I’d ever had.
He gave me a moment before casually handing me a pen. I read through everything making sure I wasn’t left with any responsibilities if I signed. As I finished the pages and signed my name, I slid the packet back and contemplated what to do with my newfound wealth. When an unexpected windfall of seven million dollars sweeps into your life…
“May I ask how you found me?” Because while I no longer felt the desperate need to hide, I was still quite sure that caution was wise.
He snapped his briefcase shut and lifted it, a small smile on his face for the first time.
“You paid your taxes.”
That evening I explained everything over dinner and told each of them what I planned to do with the money.
The shocked silence was gratifying. After I convinced Laura the plan was for the best and Saint, who quietly watched the proceeding nodded his acceptance, I emailed Mr. Alderman to help me finish the discussion I’d begun before he’d left.
One million for each of my new family and a million for the house fund.
It was the least I could do and made me feel as if all of our dreams were not only important, but possible.
Chapter 44
As fall began to get the crisp, cold feeling that warned winter was coming, things had come full circle. Laura was brimming with happiness at the chance to show off the home she’d built. I don’t think Maggie and Saint truly understood everything she’d poured into the project, from refinishing the walls right down to the little details in each room that would make it a home, not a stopover bedroom. The house visit had gone well.
I’d been off to the library, quietly out of the way with a book in hand. It had been a special day for me knowing I didn’t have to be working but I did have to be absent.
Saint explained they had a renter who would be here through the refurbishing and that there was no need to interview me as I wouldn’t be in residence after they took in their first child.
It didn’t make sense to have my name listed and easily searchable at this point. Saint said it would be easy to have me interviewed later if need be. Without having to discuss it, he seemed to understand instinctively my need to keep my name off anything that might be added to a database, no matter how obscure.
When I returned, Maggie was already ready to tell me everything that had happened, from the woman’s car and outfit to the questions she asked and the notes she made when Maggie was peeking over her shoulder.
But even Saint and Laura felt as though it had been a grand success.
We all knew there was still red tape to wade through, but it seemed as if now the final step was visible on the horizon.
The house waited each day for the call with Laura continuing her role as home-builder,
but beginning to feel out of sorts. She took on a part-time job at the library figuring more income while they waited for their first children was best. She rolled each paycheck into books and items for the children when they arrived.
The stress began taking its toll, but I still doubted the wait was for naught.
It wasn’t until one day, almost three months later, I came home to a house weighted down with a feeling of hopelessness.
I stood in the door, watching the three of them around the table, Maggie’s eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Should I come back?” I asked, afraid it would be rude to just step out but not wanting to interfere either.
Laura stood, wiping her hands down her slacks as if wiping away whatever had worried her.
“Of course. There’s nothing to be done. We have to set this aside and move forward. You’re just catching us in some house planning—nothing we’d leave you out of—just news from the state.” She scurried over to the oven and opened the door, a warm waft of garlic bread rushing out. “Wash your hands. Maggie set the table, we’ll be sitting down in just a moment.”
Saint sat, staring at the folder in front of him then at each of us. He set it aside and remained quiet through the meal letting the rest of us pick up the slack with the chatter. Maggie recovered quickly, obviously assuming whatever hurdle they’d had thrown at them would be overcome because hope was the only motivator she understood. Laura let her believe this.
And I, not yet knowing what news they’d received, played along as best I could, letting the meal move forward in its normal pace before taking my turn at dishes.
If I had known what was to come, I should have thought more about engaging with them as a group that evening, of pulling out the story for my own comprehension.
But, hindsight allows understanding foresight could never grant.
Chapter 45
“Jane, would you come for a walk with me?” Saint stood by the door, the jacket I kept on my little peg in his hand, held out and offered in a way that seemed to assume I’d be joining him.