by Grace Walton
“Take your hand off of her.” It was a command not to be ignored. And Sam obeyed. He released her hand at once. He stepped back.
Safely out of range he sneered back at Gage. “What are you going to do Ferguson? You’re in a church. You can’t do anything here. There’d be too many witnesses.”
Gage prowled slowly towards him like a relentless leopard. He reached around behind his back to access the weapon he’d tucked there. A distinct metallic click signaled to Sam that he’d cocked the small sidearm.
Sam stepped back. “Okay, okay, so let’s all calm down. I was just upset because I couldn’t find Carrie. I was worried. It’s not safe for her to waltz off by herself. There’re people who would just as soon see her dead. I heard you were one of them.”
“No, Carrie I want alive. But you, well, let’s just say your death’s debatable. You were the one who ‘waltzed off’. You left her in the middle of a church full of strangers to find her own way. You deserted her. That’s becoming kind of a habit with you, isn’t it?” Gage bit out the words.
“Deserted her?” Sam shot back, ignoring the other dig. “What are you talking about? She’s an adult. She ought to be able to handle a little thing like walking into a mainstream church on her own steam.”
“I couldn’t.” Carrie broke into their tirade trying to make peace. “You’re right Sam, I should have been able to do a simple thing like attend church on my own. But I couldn’t. And I’ll be forever grateful Gage found me and let me sit with his family-Forever.” She looked directly at the taller man praying he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him.
“Okay, well, then I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was going to be such a dramatic production for you Carrie or I’d never have left you alone,” Sam apologized as Gage snorted in disgust.
Sam turned to him and blasted him. “You’re pushing me too far Ferguson. Back off!”
“Or you’ll do what?” Gage replied silkily. “Sing again?”
“I’ll tell my fiancée she can’t speak to you anymore.” Enraged, Sam dropped his bombshell.
“Your what?” Gage’s voice was soft and deadly.
“My fiancée,” he answered in a cocky way. “Ferguson I’ve been living with her for a couple of weeks now. The whole town knows about it, but not you, huh? Oh, that’s right, I heard you went back out to LA. Have a nice trip?”
A hard muscle jumped along Gage’s jaw, but he didn’t speak
“What? Did you think you were the only stud on the range, old son? Once I saw her without her teacher get up, of course I moved in.” He stopped and laughed. “And we both know it wasn’t ever about ‘security’. I could have parked a uniform in a black and white on her front lawn day and night at any time. She’d have been totally safe. But Carrie wanted a more, intimate style of protection, didn’t you Honey?” He wrapped imprisoning arms around her. Carrie stared at Sam as if he’d lost his mind.
“No,” she tried to defend herself, but Gage’s hard words stopped her explanation.
“I don’t believe you,” Gage snarled.
Sam laughed and answered. “You better start. The wedding won’t be far off. Cause we’ve been sort of, anticipating the vows. Haven’t we Honey?” He leaned over. He covered Carrie’s mouth with his own. Completely shocked she stood there like a statue.
Gage’s hoarse words broke through her fog. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
Sam cackled like a rooster. “No you won’t. That’s the beauty of it. You won’t do a thing. You’re Mister Super Christian now, remember? Or did you forget about Africa? The hospital, surely you remember the hospital.”
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Gage ground out.
“Then remember this. She’s mine, Ferguson.”
Gage glared at him with eyes transformed to stone before turning and striding out of the sanctuary. Carrie watched him leave in stunned silence, still too shocked to speak. He was far out of earshot by the time she recovered her voice.
“You jerk! What was that all about?” she demanded hotly.
“There was a scene, a big one. Neither one of us can afford to be too much in the public eye right now.”
“I don’t care. I’m not wearing your phony ring. I’m not even going to pretend I like you, much less want to marry you. You can take that to the bank. It’s not happening. Especially not after all the lies you told about us.” She wiped her lips to remove any vestige of his corrupting kiss. “I’m going after him right now. And I’m telling him the truth.”
“Ok, you do that, Honey. You go tell the man hired to kill you that you love him, that everything he just heard from the guy who’s currently living with you was a lie. Good luck, with that. You’re going to need it.” Sam leaned back against a pew. “Carrie, you know, if you weren’t so pathetic, you’d be funny. Falling in love with a murderer, no, no lets back up Honey. You’re falling in love with your own murderer.”
“He’s not a murderer!” she defended Gage not knowing whether he was or not.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I ought to tell you what your hero did in Africa?” He waited mocking her. “It’s just a little something I dug up out of his file over at the office. See, Ferguson was doing some contract work over there and things went south on him. Lotta kids bought it that day and your precious Gage was the one holding the AK. Great rapid fire gun, the AK 47, makes a huge mess though.” Sam waved his hand like that was of no importance.
“I don’t believe you,” Carrie said choking.
Sam shrugged “You want to read the file? I’ll bring it home again tomorrow. But I have to tell you there’re photos now Honey, lots of them, and they’re pretty grim.”
Carrie shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know who or what to believe anymore. But I do know one thing. I want you out of my house- today- for good.”
Sam shook his head, grinning. “Bad plan Honey. Really bad plan. Without me, you got nothing. Ferguson can get in your house any time he wants. Do anything he wants. We both know that. I think I should get a court order, take you into custody, for your own protection of course. What do you think? Sounds like a plan to me.” He stopped to study his fingernails for a moment.
“Of course, that would put a bad crimp in your testifying against the big bad druggie. It’s sure to make the papers isn’t it? Caroline Taken Into Protective Custody by Heroic Deputy. You’d be fair game on an open market then. Everyone who had cable news would know where to find you. Then, if Ferguson drops the ball, well, somebody on the B team will surely pop you for him. I’d hate to see that happen. Especially considering all you’ve gone through to get justice for your dear old Dad.” He let it just hang in the air between them.
Carrie knew what he was doing. He was trying to threaten and intimidate her. What he was saying was so scary because it made a lot of sense. But Carrie wasn’t about to let him know she was frightened.
“Why are you doing this? What has he done to you to make you this determined?”
“Me?” He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and grinned. “He’s done nothing to me. I hardly know the man. I just hate to see the bad guys win, that’s all. And if I have to twist your arm around your back to save your skin and stop him, I will. Depend on it.”
Carrie, new creation in the Lord that she was, balled up a fist just the way her Dad had taught her when she was 16. Her thumb was nicely tucked, her Dad would have been proud.
“I want you out of my house today. And I don’t want anything to do with you Sam Dole, ever. I don’t want to date you, talk to you on the phone, or even see you again. Is that clear?”
Sam blew her an arrogant kiss. “You know you don’t mean that, Honey.” He never saw it coming.
With one body arching swing Carrie Cain Smith, brand new Christian punched Sam Dole right in the nose and onto the floor. She was nearly halfway down the long aisle of the church by the time he crumpled to the carpet.
“Don’t call me Honey,” she yelled back at him.
Chapter Fifteen
“Away in a manger!” screamed little Dylan at the top of his considerable voice. The others in the children’s choir giggled at his misbehavior. Carrie asked herself once again what had possessed her to take over the elementary age choir at church a month before the big annual Christmas Pageant. She blew at a renegade strand of hair that had worked itself loose from its fat braid. She had to be insane, or at least seriously in need of lots of intense spiritual and emotional counseling.
“Dylan?” she asked in a voice much calmer than her true state.
“Yes ma’am?” He had a rather cheeky smile.
“I’ve just promoted you to a Shepherd.”
“Aw, Miss Smith, the shepherds just stand there with a dumb stick. They don’t sing, or say nothing, ” he complained.
“I know Dylan.” She nodded agreeing. “It’s the perfect part for you. Now the rest of you, let’s get down to serious business. We’ve only got one day to get this right. Tomorrow night all your moms and dads will be here to watch you.” She rounded them up and made sure they were all standing in their assigned places on the stage that had been set up in the front of the church.
“Let’s go through this last song one more time. Then you can have your refreshments,” she coaxed. She received a cheer, at least from the boys, for her efforts.
Once they ran over the song and the refreshment mom had come to fetch all the kids and take them over to the fellowship hall, Carrie collapsed in the front pew. She continued to be amazed at the changes she’d made since that Sunday in October. Her whole life was different.
Every time she looked up at the beautiful wooden cross on the wall behind the choir loft, she felt thankful. First she had joined the church. Then she’d felt called to do more than just attend church and Sunday School. That had led to Bible Study with a group of single women and now to leading the children’s choir. Her life was so full that at times she was even able to forget about Sam, the trial coming up in the New Year, and Gage. Well, that wasn’t completely true. She’d not been able to forget Gage or the way he’d stormed out of the church on the morning she’d been saved. That had been almost three months ago.
She’d spoken to his mother and sister about him, both had been very reserved. Neither had said much, just that Gage was back in Los Angeles. She’d gotten his address and sent him a letter explaining the truth about her so called engagement. But it had never been answered. That had hurt, badly. She’d thought he would have called her. To say what, she asked herself sorely? Call to tell you he’d be back to kill you soon, or swear he’d love you forever? Would she have believed either one? Carrie shook her head to clear it and put the brakes on that particular destructive line of reasoning. No, this place, this life, this was her reality now. And it didn’t include Gage Ferguson.
She was truly trying to adjust. Of course she hadn’t been able to tell anybody who she really was, and surprisingly Sam had kept quiet. Sam, he was a whole other story. He acted as if nothing had happened between them. Even on the day he’d come to get his personal things from her home, he’d acted as if the debacle at the church had never happened. At church he even flirted with her in front of others. She was sure the members of the church had been just as confused as she was over it all.
Ruthie had told her the common explanation was there’d been a lover’s quarrel between them. Carrie didn’t confirm or deny. So chances were better than average the rumor was still making its way around the Sunday Schools. And she truly didn’t care. Her only regret was that Gage didn’t know the truth.
Part of her hurt, and part of her was still scared over all Sam had told her about Gage. He’d shown up one day at her door flourishing his evidence. He’d made a huge deal of presenting her with a brand new fat manila folder. Gage’s name had been typed across the top. In truth, she’d wanted to turn it down. But her curiosity had overruled her heart and she had read it. No, she’d scanned it. Most of it, especially the pictures, was so gruesome she hadn’t had the stomach to read the details.
Yes, the worst part had been the pictures. One had shown a much younger Gage standing over bodies, a cynical world weary look on his face. Some of the photos were just of bodies, or rather parts of bodies. Every one of the photos had shaken her to the core. And they’d served to remind her that she didn’t know if she could trust Gage, or anybody else for that matter.
“Hey stranger.” Sam walked over and sat by her on the pew. The church was empty except the two of them.
“Hello.” It was all she could manage and stay civil. She had worked really hard to stay clear of him. And she didn’t relish any heart to heart conversations, at least not with Sam Dole.
“How’s the Pageant shaping up?’ he asked in a friendly manner.
Carrie was amazed at his insensitivity. “Fine.”
“OK, OK, I get the message. You think I’m lower than a snail’s trail and you want me to leave.”
She didn’t bother to deny it.
Sam dropped his head in defeat. “Fine, if you want to be that petty, go ahead. I don’t sit at home every night crying over you. You know life keeps moving Carrie. You’ve got to move with it.”
She continued to be quiet.
“Oh come on, it’s not like we even slept together. Don’t you think it’s time you joined the rest of us in the real world?” Sam was clearly annoyed. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know Ferguson’s back in town. You need to watch your back Girlie. He flew in this afternoon in that little toy plane of his. Guess he’s here to finish his business with you, huh?”
Carrie stared straight ahead. She had felt a sudden surge of joy knowing Gage was back. But that had faded quickly when she realized Sam could be right about why he’d come back. She was lost in thought until she felt a sly hand on her knee.
“You know I’d be glad to come over and stay at your house for a few days.” Sam’s clumsy words carried more than a hint of seduction in them.
Carrie shook his offending hand off her knee. “That’s OK Sam, I don’t like the strings attached to your kind of help.” She got up to leave.
“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He pouted as she walked out.
Later that night as she lay in bed saying prayers Carrie gave herself the pleasure of thinking of Gage. It wasn’t something she allowed herself often. She was a realist after all and knew that it was the equivalent of a little girl dreaming of happily ever after. Something Carrie neither sought in her life, nor expected.
Carrie knew exactly what lay ahead of her. Testifying at the trial came first, then contacting her agent Sid, and getting on with life. She knew, in her business, she had only a few good years left. She planned to make as much money as possible. Then ask God to show her what to do with all of it. She wasn’t a pauper at the moment. There was quite a tidy sum in those Swiss bank accounts with her name on them. But maybe God needed more? She didn’t know how all that worked and right now there was no one she could ask.
She always prayed for Grace and Sadie Beasley. They were her role models and even though she hadn’t seen or spoken to them since she’d left Eden, she wanted to become more like them. Many times she got out the old spoon Grace had given her. She got it out with thanksgiving and a prayer that God would refine her like the silver in the spoon.
One thing she’d promised herself was that when the trial was over she was going back to Eden. To tell them the truth about who she was and to see what she could do to help the women there. At the top of her list were septic tanks for every house, and indoor plumbing. Then Carrie thought she might set up some kind of retreat center so others could experience the same spiritual simplicity she had when she’d been there. She was sure it would change lives and make people realize what was truly important. She hoped so anyway.
A strange sound from the kitchen startled her. Holding her breath, Carrie crept out of bed and inched down the hall to the kitchen. In some twisted way she was relieved to find him standing there in the darkness, making her kitchen seem small in compa
rison.
“Hi.” She knew that must sound pretty lame. But how did one properly greet an intruder in the middle of the night? “Want some coffee?”
Gage shook his head. He continued to stand there drinking in the sight of her. She pulled her voluminous nightgown around her. She stacked one bare foot on top of the other. A thin shaft of light from her bedroom fell across his face.
“So, why are you here?” she asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
“That’s a good question. I wish I had an answer.” The words were low and strained.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” His light eyes bore into hers. He looked past her towards the bedroom. “Where’s Dole? Keeping the bed warm?” The words had a surly edge to them.
“I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care.”
“Too bad, a lover’s spat?”
“No Gage I’ve never had a lover. You said so yourself. You read my file remember?”
“That was before Dole.”
“Before, after, and during- nothing’s changed.” She was being as brave as she knew how to be and as honest. It was more than hard.
“I’m not an idiot Carrie.”
“I’m beginning to wonder about that. Did you get my letter? You know I was never engaged to that creep?” Her quiet words were chased through the shadowy kitchen by his harsh laughter.
“There’s no way you’re going to make me believe he lived here and managed to keep his hands off you.”
“That’s a compliment, right?” She knew she risked making him furious. He was dancing around the steep edge of that abyss even now. But she didn’t care.
“Carrie, things are going to go south real fast around here in the next day or two.” He changed the subject.
“Like in Africa?” she taunted him.
A muscle jumped along his throat. “Yeah, like in Africa.”
“So, you’re telling me all this because?”
He cursed softly under his breath. “I’m telling you this because I wish you were somewhere else, somewhere far away, somewhere safe.”