Katie jumped up from her chair and whirled to face her daughter, her finger punctuating the words as she lashed out. “You went to prison for drugs. You probably got her started on this path. Brittany never would have gotten mixed up with anything like this on her own!”
“Stop it, Katie!” Vivian commanded, but her sister was oblivious to anyone else in the room.
Dugger didn’t know Katie well, but he knew enough to know she had always been high strung. He moved around behind Vivian’s chair and placed his hands protectively on her shoulders.
This was not what Mike expected when meeting Lydia’s mother, and he leaned back against the sink, arms crossed, and tried to make sense of it. Lydia glanced at him, wishing he would disappear, and tried to take charge of the situation.
“Mother,” she said calmly, “I’ve told you a thousand times, I’ve never done drugs in my life, and you’ve chosen not to believe me. I know nothing about it, and I can’t help Brittany.”
“Oh, you’ve never done drugs, huh? But you were a drug pusher,” Katie spat out, “selling drugs to decent people like Brittany. You didn’t go to prison because you were innocent! Do you think I’m stupid?”
Lydia fought to stay calm. “No, I think you’re wrong,” she said.
Her words seemed to drive Katie over the brink into insanity, and she raised her hand to slap her daughter. Mike’s hand snaked out and caught Katie’s wrist, bringing sudden silence to the kitchen as she noticed him for the first time.
She stared at him for a long moment before wrenching her arm free. She took a step back and looked him up and down, taking in his worn jeans and the streak of dirt across his cheek. “Yeah,” she sneered, “you look like someone Lydia would hook up with. Are you on drugs, too?”
“That’s enough,” said Vivian sharply, banging the table with open palms. “Katie, I think you should go.”
“But what am I supposed to do?” she wailed, collapsing into the chair in hysterical sobs. “I know Bull Barnes is going to ask me to marry him at my birthday party, and now Brittany’s there and she’s refusing to go to rehab—which I can’t afford, anyway—and Robert wants to divorce her. And now Lydia’s refusing to help, and I know she could if she wanted to; she’s just being spiteful, as usual.”
Lydia had heard enough. She snatched her keys from the counter and headed toward the front door with the intention of driving away. She thought she was hallucinating when she saw Kendall Riley. She blinked hard and was astounded to see that, indeed, Kendall was standing in the doorway, taking in the whole scene with disdain written all over her pretty face.
Lydia pulled up short and backed away as if confronted by a cobra.
It was Mike’s turn to be unpleasantly surprised. “Kendall!”
Kendall looked cool and collected as she surveyed the room, finally choosing to ignore everyone except Mike. “Hello, Mike. You need to come with me.”
“What are you talking about?” He was bewildered by her appearance.
“I may have told the Board that I knew where to find you,” she said, inspecting her nails for flaws. “There’s an emergency meeting scheduled. You’re not taking their calls, and they sent me to bring you back.”
“Excuse us,” he said, taking Kendall’s arm and steering her out the door. He suddenly felt the need for a short drive up the road and a few minutes of private conversation.
Lydia changed directions and walked through the house and out the back, heading to the end of the pier, simply because she didn’t know where else to go. It was all too much. This was the craziest day of her life and, emotionally, it actually beat the day she stepped into her prison cell and heard the door clang shut behind her. Nothing worse could possibly happen.
Mike had just witnessed all her dirty laundry hung out for public display. She wondered how much Kendall had seen. It didn’t matter now anyway. He knew everything—except the whole truth. Would he even care enough to find out the truth?
So much for a fresh start, she thought as she took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the water. She realized her reputation was shot. Ace’s words—you little jailbird—were probably all over town now, and she was sure she was going to be the subject of much speculation. Small towns could be judgmental, and she wondered about this one. She was new here, and she’d so much wanted to be a part of it. She knew she still had a job at the law firm, but she hated the thought of everyone judging her, as her mother had.
She really couldn’t understand Katie’s reluctance to think of her as anything but a loser. But it had always been that way between them. Knowing that didn’t alleviate the hurt that she felt now. She thought she saw actual hatred in her mother’s eyes when she tried to strike her. She knew in that moment she would never have any children; she wouldn’t risk damaging the self-esteem of her child as she had been damaged. Not that there were many prospects for any kind of family in her future.
She heard a car start and drive away. Kendall and Mike? Was Mike leaving without even packing his things and saying goodbye? She vaguely noted when her mother’s car roared to life, the heavy Continental throwing gravel behind it as she pulled away. No endearing goodbyes from Katie? She kept her eyes on the far side of the lake when she heard Dugger back his truck up to the garage and begin unloading the supplies they bought. All of them were busy getting on with their lives, while she sat numbly swishing her feet back and forth in the cool water.
Soon, as expected, she heard Vivian approaching. She sat down beside her without a word, slipped an arm around her waist, and Lydia rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay, Aunt Vi; I’m used to it.”
“I have never been able to understand Katie, the way she always treated you and Brittany so differently. I want you to know that I always knew you were innocent.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” she said, sitting up straight. She sighed. “Mike knows all about it now.”
“Yes, I suppose he knows most of it.”
“Is he still here?”
“No, he left with that woman.” Vivian stifled a laugh. “I know all this is not funny, but she reminds me of Jessica Rabbit.”
Lydia laughed, in spite of herself. “There’s no accounting for taste, that’s for sure.”
Vivian patted her on the knee. “Dugger and I are going into town for that festival thing. Why don’t you come with us?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s sweet of you to ask, but I think I’ll hang around here. I don’t really feel like going out.”
“Okay, then maybe we’ll just stay here, too. We’ll pop some corn and watch a movie or something. Dugger won’t care.”
“No, really, I think I need some time alone. You go, have a good time. I’ll see you guys later.”
Vivian looked doubtful, but she finally acquiesced, and Lydia heard them leave in Dugger’s truck a few minutes later. The sun was lowering over the lake and she felt a surreal sense of peace. Everything was out of her hands now. There was nothing she could do to change anything that had happened. In a way, she felt as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, now that she was no longer hiding anything.
She ambled back to the house, suddenly feeling at a loss for what to do after such an eventful day. She couldn’t seem to sit still. “Come on, Dog,” she coaxed. “Come on, lazy bones; let’s go see what the new tile looks like with the paint color.”
Dog got up with an effort and wagged his tail in agreement. She went to the garage and loaded the wheelbarrow with two boxes of the kitchen and bath tiles, and headed along the trail to the cabin. Once there, she carried in the boxes and placed them on the floor, while Dog took his place just inside the door and promptly dozed off.
Using an old steak knife from the kitchen drawer, she slit open the first box and pulled out a sheet of tiles. She held them up to the wall beneath the cabinets, and was pleased with her choice of color. The ceramic rectangles of beiges and browns, with flecks of red mixed in, were perfectly
aligned with her vision of the finished cabin.
She bent to open the other box and froze as a tiny noise from the stairs behind her sent a shot of adrenalin coursing through her veins. Dog lifted his head, a low growl emanating from deep in his throat.
She whirled around, her heart slamming against her chest.
“Rocco!”
“Hello, Lydia,” he said, stepping into the room. “Surprised to see me?”
The shock of seeing Rocco again, his eyes gleaming with madness, was all she needed to get moving. She bent and grabbed a scrap two-by-four at her feet and held it out in front of her. “Stay away from me,” she threatened, taking a step backward.
He laughed at the fear he saw in her eyes. “I see you got my note.”
“I thought you were in prison, Rocco. What do you want?”
He spread his hands out in front of him, a wounded expression on his face. “I thought you’d be glad to see me, Pocahontas. We had some good times together.” His expression turned dark and cold and he took a step forward. “But you betrayed me. I gave you everything, and you stabbed me in the back, you ungrateful little—”
“Don’t come any closer!” She hefted the board like a baseball bat.
He continued to advance, savoring the fear emanating from her that he’d dreamed of for so long, and Lydia swung. The blow was unexpected and perfectly timed, connecting with his head, just above his ear, knocking him to the floor. The look of surprise on his face turned to anger as he felt of his head and examined the blood that came away on his hand. He cursed loudly as he pulled himself to his feet, shaking his head and throwing droplets of blood onto the wall.
She moved backward toward the open door, adrenalin pumping through her body. She clutched the board in both hands, holding it out in front of her as she watched Rocco bend over, trying to clear his head. He was not expecting resistance from her, but she surprised him, which was to her advantage.
Think! Her cell phone was in her hip pocket, thank goodness. She could call 9-1-1 and get back to the house before he recovered if she moved quickly. Suddenly, Rocco emitted an animal-like grunt and lunged, catching her around the waist as she swung again with a glancing blow across his shoulder. His momentum carried her to the floor and she was pinned beneath him, his hands around her throat.
The steak knife was within arm’s reach, and she felt for it, her vision becoming blurred from the unbelievable pressure on her windpipe. Her fingers brushed the knife handle and she grabbed it just as Dog leaped into the fray, a snarling ball of fury, knocking Rocco backward.
She gasped for air. She rolled over on her stomach and began to pull herself toward the door, Dog sounding as if he was winning the fight with Rocco. Within seconds a shot rang out, followed by a yelp of pain, and then silence.
“No!” she screamed. She turned her head and saw Dog lying still, blood pooling beneath him. Rocco began to crawl toward her, the gun in his hand and a maniacal look of triumph on his face.
“You thought I would just forget about you,” he rasped, wiping blood from his eye. “I warned you, I never forgive or forget!”
Lydia held the knife in one hand, scrabbling to push herself backwards with the other. Rocco grabbed her foot and pulled. She kicked wildly with her free foot, but he was stronger. He jerked hard, let go of the gun, and snagged her other leg. She sliced the air in front of his face with the knife, drawing a line of blood across the bridge of his nose, and was coming back in the other direction when he caught her wrist and squeezed, forcing her arm above her head, crushing her with the weight of his body.
His fist struck her cheekbone, sending a white ball of pain through her head. He closed his hand around her throat, pushing her jaw back until she thought her neck would break. She felt herself losing consciousness and knew the end was now inevitable. She prayed that the nightmare wouldn’t last much longer.
Through the grayness descending over her, she heard a shout. It seemed to be coming from a long distance, as if the sound were traveling through a tunnel. The choking pressure and suffocating weight on her body was jerked away and she wheezed precious air into her lungs just before she lost consciousness.
Mike and Kendall arrived back at the house to find it deserted. With instructions to Kendall to wait for him in the car, he started along the path to the cabin to grab his things. He had made up his mind about his future, and the deadline had come to turn the company over to someone else.
Halfway there he heard a gunshot and the faint yelp of the dog, and he broke into a run. Lydia! He never slowed his stride as he passed through the open cabin door and snatched the man by the back of his collar, breaking his hold from her throat. The rest was lost in a white-hot rage as Mike hit him until he stayed down. From the looks of his already bloody face, Lydia must have fought like a wildcat.
“Lydia! Lydia, can you hear me?” He held her hand to his lips, afraid to move her, but he wanted to hold her in his arms more than anything. He was reluctant to touch her bruised neck, but he found a weak pulse at her wrist. Her head seemed to be resting at an odd angle.
“Please,” he prayed, kissing her hand.
After calling for help, he quickly checked Dog. The animal didn’t look good, but was still breathing. From what he could read of the scene, Dog had fought to protect her, perhaps sacrificing his life in the process. He prayed the old boy would make it. Right now all he could think about was Lydia, and wishing the paramedics would hurry. He finally heard the wail of sirens and knew the police and paramedics had arrived at the house. He hated to leave her, but he had to make sure the EMTs knew where to come.
He tied the attacker’s hands and feet with zip ties in case he regained consciousness while he was gone, and left the cabin at a run. He met Sheriff Jenkins halfway to the house, leading the paramedics, followed by Kendall, her cell phone out, videotaping the excitement.
“Get out of here,” he thundered. “What is wrong with you? Go! Tell the Board I’ll be there.” The stunned expression on Kendall’s face would have been comical if he hadn’t been so angry. He turned around and sprinted back ahead of the first responders.
The EMTs were efficient and professional. Three of them immediately began to assess Lydia’s condition, and Mike hovered by the wall, watching quietly. Sheriff Jenkins and two other paramedics checked out Rocco, who was now awake and cursing profusely, struggling with his bonds. They tied him to a stretcher and took him away.
The town veterinarian had been called by Sheriff Jenkins, and she came immediately. She examined Dog with dismay written all over her face. She wrapped a tight bandage around his midsection, noted his advanced age, and gave Mike a look that said he should not expect too much. At her direction, an EMT gently picked up the dog and she gave instructions to put him in the back of her SUV.
As she was going out, Dugger and Vivian pushed their way through the cabin door. Vivian was flushed from exertion and her hair flew wildly around her face. Mike met her halfway across the room, and she fell into his arms. “What happened?” she cried, trying to see Lydia around the people caring for her. “Dugger got a call from the sheriff, but he wouldn’t tell us what happened. I shouldn’t have left her.”
“She’s going to be okay, Vivian,” Mike said, holding her close, as much in need of consolation as she was. “She has to be.”
Dugger backed into the corner, out of the way, but ready at a moment’s notice to do whatever had to be done. He was appalled at the destruction he saw, the amount of blood that had been shed. Things like this didn’t happen in their quiet little town, and he vowed to make it his business to protect Vivian and her loved ones from any future trauma.
Soon Lydia was ensconced in a neck brace and oxygen mask, and had an IV drip in her arm. Vivian quickly regained control of her emotions and took charge. She led the group, snapping out orders to watch out for that limb and keep the stretcher level, and hurry, hurry, hurry. It was a tense procession that escorted Lydia to the waiting ambulance parked in Vivian’s back yard. Sh
e looked pale and lifeless as they loaded her into the back of the ambulance, her left eye swollen and blood smeared across her face.
When Mike started to get into the ambulance with her, Vivian grabbed him by the shoulders and stopped him. “She’s mine,” she said firmly. Every fiber of Mike’s being told him to get into that ambulance, but the force of Vivian’s will froze him in place, her eyes daring him to dispute her.
And the truth was, he didn’t have the right to claim his place by Lydia’s side. Emotions ran high as the two faced off, a challenge thrown down between them. This was the first time he had seen the force of a mother’s love, as fierce as a tiger protecting her cub. He knew on some level that he could easily move Vivian to the side, but then he wondered if that were true. By the look on her face, he thought she might fight to the death to be with her niece.
Dugger touched his arm. “Come with me. We’ll follow the ambulance.” Mike leaned in and kissed Vivian’s cheek and the moment was over, and he knew that he had just witnessed something that he had never experienced in his life. A short pang of regret briefly touched his heart, so quickly that he barely registered it; he had never really experienced a mother’s love.
Dugger ran every red light, following right behind the speeding ambulance and police car leading the way. Mike clutched the dashboard for support as the truck careened around corners, leaning forward as if that would help them get there sooner.
It was hours later and numerous cups of vending machine coffee before the doctor came out to the waiting room with news. Lydia had a broken rib, a fractured cheek bone, multiple contusions and bruises around her throat, but she should recover with no residual problems. She was conscious, and he gave permission for two people to visit her.
Vivian and Mike followed the doctor to her bedside. Vivian cried when she saw her, bruised and beaten, her eye swollen shut. She looked small and fragile, her dark hair fanned out across the white pillow. Mike held her hand and kissed it, wondering if she would remember that later when she was no longer drugged. She couldn’t talk, but she smiled weakly, wincing in pain with the movement.
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