Out of Exile

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Out of Exile Page 9

by Carla Cassidy


  “Is that why the three of you seem so close and Matthew seems so separate from you?” Lilly asked curiously.

  Johnna’s frown deepened. “Matthew is separate from us because he chooses to be. He’s always been stern and unyielding, but since father died, he’s been so…so…”

  “Angry?”

  Johnna nodded. “Yes. Exactly. He wasn’t so bad before father’s death. But now you can see it in his eyes all the time, feel it rolling off him. More and more he reminds me of Father.” Johnna eyed her in speculation. “Don’t go there, Lilly.”

  “Go where?”

  “Don’t try to get close to Matthew. He’ll only hurt you in the end. He doesn’t want to let anyone into his life. I think, somehow, of all of us, he’s the most scarred.”

  Lilly smiled at Johnna reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl and I’m not looking to get into his life. I have a perfectly satisfactory life of my own back in Dallas. I was just curious, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, well, you know what they say about curiosity…”

  Lilly laughed. “I’m not a cat so I’m not real worried about those kind of consequences.”

  Their conversation turned to the Halloween party April was planning. Although Lilly didn’t mention it to Johnna, she’d made the decision not to stick around for the party. Once Aunt Clara had her tests and got the results back, Lilly intended to leave to return to Dallas.

  Her mind had been changed the day before, when Matthew had grabbed her arm and told her to stay out of his head and out of his life. She had realized at that moment there was no point in her hanging around here any longer than necessary, that Matthew was as lost a cause as Danny had been.

  By noon they had the cottage painted and together they piled the brushes in the sink. “We need to get these clean because I’ve got to get out of here,” Johnna said as she looked at her watch. “I’ve got to be in court later this afternoon.”

  “Then go,” Lilly said. “I can do the cleanup here.”

  Johnna hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  Lilly shoved her toward the door. “Go on, get out of here.”

  Johnna flashed her a grin. “Thanks, Lilly.”

  As Johnna left the cottage, Lilly went back to the sink and began to rinse out the brushes and paint pans. As she worked she thought of what Johnna had said about Matthew.

  He’d been the good son, the one who had tried to control the violence in the house by making sure there was nothing to get angry about. But, of course, he couldn’t make things right, hadn’t been in control of his father’s rage.

  It must have been horrible, growing up in a house where you never knew what might set off a violent man, being so afraid all the time. Lilly’s heart broke not only for Matthew but also for his brothers and sister. Still, they had managed to get past the old wounds, open themselves up to others. Why couldn’t Matthew?

  “Whoa! I didn’t know you were in here.”

  Lilly whirled around from the sink to see Eddie entering the cottage. “Hi, Eddie. I’m just cleaning up paintbrushes,” she said and shut off the faucet.

  He nodded. “The boss man told me to do a final check on everything in the cottages, then lock them up tight.” He frowned. “Damn shame what somebody did to all these.”

  “Yes, it was,” she agreed.

  “I heard you were from Dallas,” he said, and leaned against the small table.

  “Yes, I am. You ever been there?” She grabbed a rag and dried off the brushes.

  “Years ago. I worked a ranch just outside of Plano. Nice place, not as hot as it is here.”

  She gathered up the brushes and pans. “So how do you like working here for the Delaneys?” she asked.

  “It’s all right. When you’re a ranch hand one place is about as good as another.”

  “Well, I’ll just leave you to your work,” she said, and with a smile, left the cottage.

  She put the paint supplies away in a storage bin in the stables, then walked toward the house. What she wanted more than anything at the moment was a hot shower, then some lunch.

  The house was silent when she entered, and she assumed Matthew was out in the field working somewhere. She went up to her bedroom, grabbed clean clothes, then went into the bathroom and within minutes stood beneath a hot spray of water.

  She knew she was foolish for wanting to help Matthew, especially when he so clearly didn’t think he needed and didn’t want any help. She suspected that part of her need to do something to ease the shadows in his eyes had to do with the tragedy that had forced her to take a leave from her job.

  But what worried her most was the part of her need to see those shadows dissipate that had nothing to do with her professional interest. As a woman she would love to see those beautiful gray eyes of his clear and lit with happiness. She’d love to hear his laughter ringing out frequently, see his body relaxed instead of racked with tension.

  She shut off the water in the shower and grabbed a towel. Drying off, she told herself that Matthew Delaney was not her concern and in a week she’d leave here…and him to go back to Dallas.

  She would return to her life and forget the boy she had spent those distant summers with, forget the man she’d made love with so passionately.

  Dressed in a clean pair of shorts and a pale-pink T-shirt, she left the bathroom. She stopped at the dresser and grabbed her hairbrush and began to brush the tangles from her wet hair.

  She stroked the brush several times through her hair, then paused as she heard a strange noise. She stood still for a moment, trying to identify the odd rattling noise. It seemed to be coming from someplace behind her.

  Gazing into the mirror, she looked past her reflection and studied the room. Nothing looked amiss. Certainly she was alone. So what on earth was making that weird noise?

  She turned away from the mirror and froze as her gaze fell to the bed. There, coiled in the center, a huge rattlesnake eyed her with wary intent, its rattle sending a warning of imminent attack.

  For a moment Lilly couldn’t breathe, was afraid that in taking a single breath she would force the snake to spring toward her. Ice-cold fear shimmied up her spine as she stared at the serpent in horror.

  She had no idea how it had gotten on her bed, and at the moment didn’t care how it had gotten there, she simply wanted it gone.

  It felt as if time stood still. Long, torturous moments passed as Lilly remained frozen in place.

  Not knowing what else to do, still afraid of moving a muscle, Lilly opened her mouth and released the scream that had been momentarily trapped inside her. The snake coiled tightly, rattling frantically, and Lilly screamed again.

  The door to her bedroom burst open and Ned Sayville flew in. “Wha…”

  In an instant he saw the problem. He froze next to Lilly. “Give me your shoe,” he said, not taking his gaze off the snake.

  “My what?” she whispered.

  “Your shoe…your sandal.” He stretched out his hand. The snake’s rattle seemed so loud now it filled the entire room with the ominous sound.

  Lilly raised her foot behind her and grabbed her sandal, then handed it to Ned. She held her breath and watched in horror as he approached the bed. “Ned…wait…”

  “Shhh, I know what I’m doing,” he said, then jabbed the sandal toward the snake.

  Instantly it struck, sinking its mouth into the foam rubber of the shoe, and at the same time Ned grabbed it around the back of its neck and head and pulled it up off her bed. Her sandal fell to the floor.

  “It’s all right now,” Ned said.

  Lilly gasped in relief and followed him as he carried it down the stairs and out the front door, where they met Matthew and several other ranch hands rushing toward the house.

  “What the hell?” Matthew exclaimed.

  “It was on her bed,” Ned explained. He walked the snake some distance from the house, then bent down and released it.

  “Are you all right?” Matthew asked, his gaze fierce and intent on
her.

  She hesitated a moment, then nodded, wishing he would take her in his arms and pull her tight against his broad, safe chest. But he didn’t.

  “What happened?” he asked Ned as the man returned to the crowd that had gathered.

  Ned shrugged. “I was working out here pulling weeds like you told me to, and I heard her scream.” He looked at Matthew worriedly. “I didn’t think…I just ran inside.”

  “No, it’s fine, Ned,” Matthew reassured him, and clapped him on the back. Ned visibly relaxed.

  “I’d just like to know how a snake got all the way upstairs,” Ned said thoughtfully.

  “So would I.” Lilly fought off a shiver, then walked over and took Ned’s hands in hers. “Thank you, Ned. That was a very brave thing you did.” She released his hands.

  His cheeks flushed red. “Ah, it wasn’t nothing…just a little old snake.”

  “You didn’t see anyone go into the house?” Matthew asked him.

  “No, but I’d only been here a minute or two before I heard her scream,” Ned explained. He shot a shy smile to Lilly. “She’s got a good set of lungs on her.”

  Lilly laughed, aware of the sound of a touch of hysteria in her laughter.

  “All right, everyone back to work,” Matthew said to the workers who were milling around. He turned and looked at Lilly. “We’d better go up and check your room, make sure there are no other surprises there.”

  “All right.” With one more grateful look at Ned, Lilly followed Matthew back into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.

  They searched under her bed, in the closet, beneath the dresser, looking for anything that didn’t belong there, for anything that might be a threat. But they found nothing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, a touch of gentle concern in his voice.

  She nodded and pulled the bedspread from the bed. “I’m fine. It was just frightening to see that…that…thing on the bed when I finished taking my shower.”

  “You don’t know if it was there before you took your shower?”

  She shook her head and held the spread against her chest. “It might have been there. I don’t know. I didn’t pay any attention.” She looked down at the spread in her arms. “I have to wash this. I can’t imagine crawling beneath it tonight until it has been washed.”

  Matthew took the spread from her. “I’ll carry this downstairs,” he said.

  Together they walked back down the stairs, neither of them saying a word. When they reached the kitchen, Matthew went into the laundry room as Lilly sank down into a chair at the table.

  Even though the threat was gone, her legs felt shaky, and fear still swirled around inside her. She closed her eyes, imagining what might have happened if she hadn’t seen the snake…if she’d backed up closer to the bed, unaware of the danger there.

  She heard the sound of the washing machine being started, then Matthew returned to the kitchen. Instead of joining her at the table, he leaned against the island, his eyes dark and fathomless.

  “I’ll get to the bottom of this, Lilly. I promise you,” he said.

  She nodded. She knew his sentiments were right, but she also knew it was probably a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. Nobody had seen anything unusual. Nobody had seen anyone creeping into the house carrying a snake.

  Why would somebody want to put a rattlesnake in her bedroom? Who might want to harm her? And for God’s sake why?

  “We’ve always been pretty lax around here at locking things up,” Matthew said. “That’s going to change. I’ll go into town this evening and get a couple of extra house keys made for you and Clara. From now on whenever you leave the house, lock it up.” His gaze lingered on her for a long moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little shaky. Seeing that snake on my bed was the most terrifying moment I think I’ve ever had.”

  He continued to look at her, then sighed and raked a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration that had become familiar to her. “Lilly…about yesterday…I’m sorry if I was a little rough on you.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Pleasure swept through her at his apology. “I can be a real pain sometimes. I pick and prod into things that aren’t my business and for that I apologize to you.”

  A whisper of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. “You can be a real pain, but I know you mean well.”

  “I do,” she said honestly. And there was so much more she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that she cared about him, that there was a small part of her that was afraid for him…afraid that the anger inside him would eventually consume him.

  But she said none of that, knew speaking of those things would be the worst possible thing she could do in the wake of the olive branch he seemed to be tentatively offering her.

  He shoved off the island. “I’m heading back out to talk to everyone and see if anyone saw anything that might give us some answers.”

  “Will you be here for supper?”

  “Don’t plan on me,” he replied. “I’m not sure how long it will take me in town. I’m going to meet with Judd Stevens and give him some paperwork. I’ll just grab something to eat at the café.”

  “Judd Stevens?”

  “He’s a private investigator. I’m having him check the information on the job applications of the people who work here.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you sometime tomorrow,” she said.

  He nodded again, then left her alone in the kitchen.

  Although she’d been hungry when she’d come back to the house, her appetite had fled in the wake of the trauma. She fixed herself a glass of iced tea, then sat at the table and waited for the washing machine to finish up its load.

  When the washing machine was done, she put the bedspread in the dryer, then moved to the front porch and sat down just in time to see Matthew’s pickup pulling away from the ranch and heading into town.

  For a moment she wished he’d asked her to ride along. The afternoon and evening hours stretched out empty before her.

  She sat on the porch until the bedspread was dry, then took it back upstairs and remade the bed. By that time her appetite had reawakened and she returned to the kitchen and fixed herself lunch.

  After cleaning up her lunch dishes, she carefully locked up the house and went to her aunt’s cottage, deciding she would spend the afternoon and evening hours there until Matthew returned from town.

  The afternoon sped by pleasantly. The two women took a walk and visited with some of the workers. They ate chicken casserole for dinner, then turned on the television to watch until bedtime.

  But as the sitcoms played, Lilly found her thoughts far away from the canned laughter and hokey situations. Instead she found herself once again thinking about Matthew…and his siblings…and their father.

  “Aunt Clara?”

  “Yes, dear?” Clara sat on the end of the sofa, her fingers nimbly working two knitting needles and a ball of yarn in pastel green and yellow. She was knitting a baby blanket for April, Mark’s wife.

  “Tell me about Uncle Adam,” Lilly said.

  Clara’s fingers halted their movements and she looked at Lilly in surprise. “What do you want to know about him?”

  “What kind of a man was he?”

  Clara began to work the yarn again, a frown creasing her forehead as she looked at her fingers. “He was an unhappy boy who grew into an unhappy man. We were never close, Adam and I.” She looked back at Lilly. “Why are you asking about Adam? What brought all this on?”

  “Did you know he was abusive to his children?” Lilly watched the shock sweep over Clara’s features and had her answer.

  “Who told you that?” she asked as her hands dropped to her lap.

  “Matthew. And Johnna. They said he was a monster,” she said softly.

  Clara’s frown deepened, and she released a deep, audible sigh. “I knew he was harsh with the children.”

  “According to them, it was more than harsh. He beat
them both physically and emotionally.”

  “Oh, my. Those poor babies. You know, I tried to help Adam when Leah first died. I came out here and told him I’d help with those poor motherless babies. But he sent me away, told me he was perfectly capable of raising his own.”

  She set her knitting aside and stared at the television for a long moment. “I came to visit when I could,” she said, not looking at Lilly. “Everything seemed to be all right. Of course, the children were the best behaved I’d ever seen, but I worried so.”

  Lilly left her chair and went to the sofa and sat down next to Clara. The last thing she had wanted to do when she’d begun this conversation was cause Clara pain, and yet she saw the heartache shining from Clara’s eyes.

  “I called Social Services a couple of times, insisted they check on the children.” Clara continued. “I needed to do it for my own peace of mind.”

  “And what happened?” Lilly asked curiously.

  Clara shrugged her plump shoulders. “Nothing. I was told that Adam Delaney was a fine, upstanding citizen who was raising his children with a firm but loving hand. But I worried that they were whitewashing things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Clara’s blue eyes were troubled as she gazed at Lilly. “Adam was a wealthy rancher with plenty of power in this county. When he turned this place into a dude ranch, his power increased. He brought commerce to the town, and I’m sure nobody wanted to step on his toes.”

  She sighed. “When they were little, I shouldn’t have let Adam bully me into staying away. I should have known Adam would raise his children the way our father raised us, but I’d hoped he’d do better, be better.”

  “Your father was abusive?” Lilly asked, and took Clara’s hand in hers as the old woman nodded.

  Clara smiled and squeezed Lilly’s hand. “Yes, he was mean and abusive, but what are you going to do? You don’t pick your parents. You, of all people should know that.”

  They rarely spoke of Lilly’s real parents, and at the thought of them a faint band of pain wrapped around Lilly’s heart. She leaned forward and kissed Clara on her cheek. “I think God knew what he was doing when he brought us together,” she said.

 

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