The Perfect Letter

by Chris Harrison

  Leigh remembered the day she first kissed Jake, in the darkness of Mammoth Cave after the bats had gone, and felt an ache that she knew would always be there, the ache of regret. She’d never be able to look at the bats again without thinking of him, no matter whom she married.

  But she could let Jake go. She had to. If she didn’t, she’d never be whole again.

  “Leigh.”

  She didn’t turn. If she didn’t turn, she wouldn’t have to see him, wouldn’t have to say good-bye to the one hope she’d been clinging to for the last ten years of her life: that he still loved her, that he didn’t blame her, that once he was released they’d be able to move forward together. If she didn’t turn she wouldn’t have to tell him what she’d come to tell him—that she couldn’t see him again, that it was over. She was marrying Joseph and going back to New York, and that was that.

  “Leigh. Leela.” He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around slowly to face him. She raised her eyes into his familiar dark blue ones, the ones she hadn’t looked into once since that day in the courtroom all those years ago, when the foreman had stood in front of everyone and read that awful verdict. Guilty. Guilty of murder.

  But now here he was again, taller than she remembered, tall in his cowboy boots, his eyes full of doubt, even fear. The ache she’d felt in her gut tightened, a feeling so old and familiar she’d almost forgotten about it. Here it was, the moment she’d waited more than a decade for. Jake was out. Jake was free. And he was standing in front of her, waiting for her to say . . . something.

  “I’ve been looking for you all day. Where the hell have you been?” she said, and then burst into tears.

  Six

  The week before the shooting Jake’s father had sent him to Florida, ostensibly to see another trainer about a horse her grandfather was thinking of buying, but Leigh wasn’t so sure. For weeks Jake’s jobs for his dad had been taking him farther and farther away, to meet with people in parking lots and under bridges, dicey prospects that had Leigh worried sick. She had begged him not to go, said she was afraid of some of the men his father sent him to see, but Jake said it would be all right, he’d be safe and home in no time.

  “Anyway, you don’t know the people I’m going to talk to,” he said, his voice taking on a hard edge of defensiveness. She knew he didn’t like it when she criticized his dad or Dale. “These men, they’re hard workers. Horsemen. They know things about the business. Things that will help all of us.”

  “I know things about the business, too,” Leigh said, her voice rising. “I’ve been around horses all my life. I’m in the barn the same as you. I feed, I muck the same as you.”

  “Not the same as me,” Jake said quietly.

  “I don’t trust some of your dad’s ‘business associates,’ Jake. I don’t think you should either.”

  “I have to,” he said. “You don’t understand. My dad’s the best trainer in the business. He knows what he’s doing. If I could have half the success my father has, I’ll think I’ve really made it.” He raked his hand through his dark curly hair, making it stand up black in the summer heat. “Just trust me, okay? Can you do that much?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Not when it comes to Ben. You have blinders on, Jake. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it, but just please, don’t do anything foolish.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Just keep your distance from my dad, and Dale. Don’t pick any fights. They’re already jumpy. It’s just for a little while longer, until we can get out of here.”

  Leigh had walked off in a huff. But she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “Fine,” she said. “Go on to Florida. See if I care.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t get angry. It’s just something I have to do.”

  “Yes, well,” she said, “this is just something I have to do.” And she kept walking.

  She expected him to come after her as she crossed the yard and went into the house, but he didn’t try to stop her. She sat inside all afternoon, waiting, until she finally saw his truck pull out of the half-moon driveway not long before supper. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t come after her, that he had left anyway.

  She played the scene over again and again in her mind. Maybe she should not have been so bitter about it. Maybe she should have apologized. She trusted his judgment, didn’t she? But it was too late—he’d already left.

  Jake was gone for nearly a week, a week with no calls, no messages. Nothing. Leigh had fretted the whole time, worried that something might happen to him on the road, that she wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him, to apologize. Every moment without him left her with a physical ache of regret and worry.

  It was unusually hot that May, and Leigh had been cranky and restless, unable to enjoy the graduation parties, the talk of the colleges her friends were heading to, the jobs they were taking. Whenever anyone asked her about Harvard, she froze, then did her best to sound nonchalant about the subject, bored even, like it was yesterday’s news. No one—not even Chloe—knew that she and Jake planned to get married the day she turned eighteen at the end of June, that Jake was coming with her to Boston. The slightest whiff of their plans and her grandfather would fire Ben Rhodes, send him away, and God only knew where they’d go or when she’d see Jake after that.

  On the day Jake had promised to be back, Leigh rushed home after school. She ran to the barn to see if he was there, but when she looked in the tack room, in the feed room, in the hayloft, she was greeted by nothing but dust and the quizzical looks of the many farmhands who worked for her grandfather.

  The old man, too, was distracted—he had the vet out again, the third time in two months, to put down a young colt, one of the farm’s most promising yearlings, because one of the horse’s back legs had come up lame after his last practice. Nothing anyone had tried had done any good. The colt was damaged.

  With two injections, the vet put him down. Her grandfather was heartbroken. “Damn,” he said, stroking the horse’s brown neck as his breathing slowed, then stopped. “The best one of the lot, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Pop,” Leigh said. She knew how hard he took the loss of any one of his horses. She hesitated, folded her arms. She wanted to mourn the colt but had other things on her mind. She couldn’t ask her grandfather if he’d seen Jake—the old man would take her head off for sure.

  Instead she kept looking for him in the tractor garage, the practice ring. Frustrated, she made the mistake of heading into the breeding shed, where Dale Tucker was setting up for one of the mares to be covered by the stud, Blizzard, Leigh’s own childhood pet, now among her grandfather’s best horses.

  Leigh had seen Dale standing inside, and hesitated. The two of them had never seen eye to eye about the horses; she thought he was too rough with them, ran them too hard and too often, but whenever she spoke to him about it, he only said, “Thank you, Your Highness,” and went back to doing just as he pleased. Since he worked for her grandfather, not her, there wasn’t much she could do to get rid of him, but she’d taken to avoiding him over the years, tried not to speak to him unless she had no other choice. She always remembered the way he looked at her that first day he’d arrived on the ranch, when she’d arrived braless and soaking wet from her afternoon swim. As if he were sizing her up for sale, or worse.

  That day, as she poked her head in the big double doors of the breeding shed, she saw no one except Dale holding the mare’s bridle, waiting for Ben to bring Blizzard in from his pen. Dale saw her at the same time as the mare, who whinnied a greeting. Leigh froze with one foot turned in flight, but it was too late.

  Dale tugged on the mare’s rope and gave Leigh an evil grin. “Hear that?” he said. “She’s all ready for it. Ready for the stud to come in and give it to her. Likes it rough, too. Soon as the old boy comes in, she’ll be raring to go, won’t she?”

  Leigh had stood very st
ill, like a rabbit sensing a fox. Somehow Dale had thought having a secret over Leigh—knowing the truth about her and Jake—gave him the right to talk to her like that. For more than a year she’d been listening to taunts like this from him, had grown to hate and distrust the sight of him, his filthy baseball caps that read FBI: FEMALE BODY INSPECTOR, and DON’T BE SEXIST! BITCHES HATE THAT. The heavy smell of his cheap cologne. His eyes, looking her up and down. Leigh had held her head up and turned to go, but Dale came up close to her, came closer than he had any right to. The smell of his sweat and the tobacco on his breath was so overpowering she nearly gagged.

  She stepped back. “Do you mind?”

  Dale stepped in closer, his breath hot, his small, piglike eyes burning into her. “What’s the matter? Don’t like me as much as that boy of yours? He’s just a kid. If you want to learn the ropes, you’ll need a man.”

  “I’ll be sure to let you know when I see one.”

  “Oh, you’re seeing one, all right,” said Dale. He leaned into her, so close their noses almost touched. Leigh refused to give an inch, to back down to this disgusting excuse for a man.

  “I think you like what you see, too,” Dale said, reaching down to cup his hand around her breast.

  For one long moment he stood there with his filthy hand on her. Leigh looked around, but there was no one; they were completely alone. The only person who might come in was Ben, and he wouldn’t side with her, not against his own partner. She knew enough about Ben to know that he hated her, hated that Jake loved her, that her grandfather had threatened his job because of her. No—she was on her own with Dale Tucker.

  She pushed him back with two hands against his chest, spooking the mare.

  “What’s the matter?” he said. “No one’s here. No one will see.”

  She took two steps back and said, “You keep your hands off me.”

  He laughed. “You think you can just walk away? If I want you, I’ll take you, and there won’t be a damn thing you can do to stop me.”

  She was trying to think, to look around for a weapon, for something. Her grandfather’s gun was far away, back in the tack room of the barn. Might as well be a million miles. “I would stop you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’d kill you if I had to.”

  He laughed. “You couldn’t hurt me. You’re a good girl. You’ll take it all, and it will be so sweet. You’re gonna like it so much, you’ll thank me afterward.”

  “Not in a million years.”

  He kept coming, closer and closer. She started to realize she might have to fight him off with her bare hands, that even as short as he was, it wouldn’t take much for him to overpower her. She should never have come to the shed alone. She should never have thought she was safe.

  She was backing toward the door now. It would all be okay as long as she got out, got back to the house.

  But Dale couldn’t resist one last gibe: “Where’re you going, honey?” he asked. “Show’s just about to start. I know you’re just dying to stay around and watch.” She backed up slowly. “No? Then I guess I’ll be seeing you later.” She took off to the sound of his harsh laughter.

  She’d gone back to the house feeling shaken to her core, sitting alone in her room in tears, angry that a man like Dale Tucker had felt so free to put his hands on her, that he’d looked at her and spoken to her like she was something he owned. She couldn’t go to her grandfather and tell him what had happened; Dale would surely tell Gene about Leigh and Jake. No—she’d have to deal with Dale Tucker on her own.

  All afternoon and into the evening Leigh sat in the window watching the half-moon driveway, where Jake would pull up when he came home. Her room seemed to get smaller and smaller, the world outside bigger and bigger, when she thought of Jake alone out in that world, all the things that could happen to him before they had a chance to make up. A carjacking. An accident. Jake trapped in a ditch in his overturned truck for days and days. And she could admit it—she felt naked without him there, standing between herself and a man like Dale Tucker. If Jake had been there, Dale would never have touched her, not in a million years.

  When he wasn’t home by dinner, she was nervous; by midnight, when he still hadn’t returned, she was terrified. Something had happened. Where are you, Jake? she wondered. Why aren’t you home? She vowed that next day, first thing, she was buying him a cell phone no matter how much he objected.

  Not long after midnight, when her room was so close and small that she felt suffocated, Leigh at last saw the lights of Jake’s truck heading into the driveway and coming to rest outside the stables. She watched him climb out of the cab and open the barn door, slipping inside in darkness. The moon was up, and as she raised the sash on her window and climbed out of the house, she could see her own shadow on the grass. She crossed the yard toward the open door of the barn, dark and yawning like a mouth.

  When she came close she heard an argument in progress, something angry from Jake, another voice answering. The two voices were lowered, nearly whispering, but there was no mistaking the hostility in them. She crept closer to listen. “I don’t care. I don’t care what you do to me anymore, I’m done. I’m finished with this, Dale, I mean it,” Jake was saying, and Dale Tucker answered, “You’re not done till we say you’re done. You’re not done, or you know what comes next.”

  “I don’t care anymore. I’m telling Leigh everything. I’m telling her tonight.”

  Dale laughed. “You wouldn’t dare, because you know how pissed she’ll be. She’ll never speak to you again.”

  “She will. She trusts me.”

  “Oh yeah, she trusts you, all right. That girl doesn’t know the first thing about what’s going on here. What do you think she’ll do if you tell her? Think she’ll thank you? Think she’ll still open up her long legs for you then?”

  Leigh froze. They didn’t hear her. They didn’t know she was there. What was really going on here? What had Jake been holding back?

  Dale thought he was safe, so he kept talking. “If you want to start your own training business someday, you’ll keep quiet. You spill your guts to Leigh or Gene, to anyone in this business, and no one will hire you. Your future depends on being the son of Ben Rhodes, superstar. You screw us, you’re only hurting yourself.”

  “My future,” Jake said, “is none of your goddamn business. I can make my own way from now on.”

  “You couldn’t make your own way on a bus, Jake. If you want to train, if you want to trade on your old man’s name, you’re going to want that name to be a good one. Remember that.”

  “I don’t want to train anymore,” Jake hissed. “I don’t want to win at all costs. You’re a liar and a cheat. You and my father.” She could hear the hurt in his voice, his wounded pride. The Honorable Jacob Rhodes. She knew how much he admired his father, how he’d always looked up to him. He always said if he could have half the accomplishments his father had, he’d think his life was a success.

  That admission—that his father was a liar, that Jake didn’t want to be like him anymore—must have cost him dearly. But why had he said it?

  She heard a stall door open, heard the sound of something soft hitting wood—a person, maybe. Someone made a grunting noise, as if in pain. “I’m warning you,” Jake said, his voice laboring now. “Keep your goddamn hands off me. I don’t have your stuff. It’s over.”

  In a minute she could see the shadow of Jake walking away, could see him trying to leave. Dale raised his voice now, seemingly not caring if anyone heard. “You little shit!” he shouted. “I’m not letting you torpedo your daddy’s whole career for a worthless piece of ass.”

  “You can’t talk about Leigh like that,” Jake said, turning around.

  “Why not? She can traipse around here in her wet clothes and her tight jeans like some little tramp, but no one’s supposed to notice? Don’t kid yourself, she wants us all to notice her. You and me and your dad. She’s just begging for us all to pay attention. Just because she’s fucking you in the hayloft doesn’t
mean I have to bow and scrape to that little slut. I don’t care if her granddaddy owns half of Texas.”

  “You don’t talk about her like that,” Jake said. “You don’t say another word against her. I’m going to marry her as soon as she turns eighteen. She’s going to be my wife, and I won’t let you talk about her like that. Not now, or ever again.”

  Leigh had held on to the stall nearest her to keep from falling over. He shouldn’t have told Dale about their plans—not Dale Tucker, of all people. It was too risky; it could expose both of them.

  Oh, Jake, you didn’t!

  Dale had laughed, actually laughed. “Whoo, boy,” he said. “You are dumber than I thought. That little whore is never going to marry a country boy like you. You think her granddaddy’s going to will his millions to you?”

  “I don’t care if he does or doesn’t,” Jake said. “It’s only Leigh I want.”

  “Then you’re definitely dumber than I thought. The only reason to marry that little bitch is her granddad’s millions, Jake. She’ll break your heart faster than you can spit. She’ll be screwing everything that moves.”

  “You’re just pissed I got to her first.”

  Dale’s voice dropped an octave. “She should be glad you got to her first. If I’d gotten to her first, I’d knock some fucking sense into that head of hers. Now I mean it: hand over the stuff or I swear I will go straight to the house right now and tell Grandpa that you’re fucking his baby girl. Let him deal with you. If you get out of it without a bullet in your ass, it won’t be because I didn’t try.”

  Leigh knew he meant it. He’d expose both of them. It would all be over. But what did Dale want that Jake had?

  “I told you, I didn’t bring it. I never went to the place and picked it up.” Dale snorted. “Laugh all you want, but it’s true. I won’t be your dog anymore.”

  Scuffling, grunting. The sound of fists. Jake and Dale were fighting in the darkness. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear the sound of them hitting each other, could hear Jake cry out.