Lonely Souls

by Rosemary Fifield

  They emerged in a large sunny room on the gable end of the house facing the dooryard. Now Miriam’s sewing and sitting room, it had once been the bedroom for Dawson’s three sisters. For years, he had occupied the middle room, with its long dormered windows along the backside of the steeply slanted roof, while Blake and Bill shared the larger bedroom on the far end of the house. Now Dawson occupied that room furthest from the stairs, while Miriam temporarily slept on a hide-a-bed opened up in the middle room.

  Dawson motioned for Shane to have a seat in an antique rocking chair in the sewing room. Then he settled himself on the old deacon’s bench in front of the window and waited for Shane to speak.

  “I want to know exactly what happened.” Shane’s manner was much more subdued than Dawson had anticipated, and Dawson watched him warily.

  “What did Cassie tell you?”

  “Not much. Just that she had been attacked and that she ended up here when they released her because Cassie couldn’t take care of her alone.”

  “And they couldn’t find you,” Dawson added gruffly.

  Shane brought his cold eyes up to meet Dawson’s, and his face was tight with anger. “I want to know what happened.”

  Dawson met the man’s stare, determined now to keep their encounter civil, if only for Shelby’s sake. “First of all, she’s going to be okay. She’s been to the emergency room and they did everything, x-rays, the whole thing. She’s just … she needs time to heal. And charges have been brought against Blake. I made sure of that. And I have one more thing to say before you fly off the handle.” Dawson looked squarely at Shane. “I’m not making excuses for what my brother did. But I know why you leave the way you do, and this never would have happened if you didn’t put her second in your life. I don’t care what you think of me or my family, but she deserves someone who would put her first.”

  Shane made no effort to hide his disdain from Dawson. “And who’s that? You? Don’t make me laugh. Do the right thing, Penfield. Marry Cassie. You owe her as much.”

  Dawson bristled at Shane’s presumptions. “And how is that?”

  Shane settled back in the rocking chair and stared down his nose at him. “Because your rapist brother is the father of her child.”

  The blood drained from Dawson’s face and neck, his skin turning cold and clammy as he stared wordlessly at Shane.

  “Ask her,” Shane said, obviously enjoying his shock. “And then think about this: The reason she never told you is because she’s afraid of your goddamn temper. And because she never could tell you, your fucking brother was free to do it again! In other words, Penfield …” Shane leaned forward to look into Dawson’s face, “it’s your fault that this happened to Shelby. If you weren’t such a goddamned hot-head, Cassie would have told you long ago!”

  Dawson continued to stare at him in disbelief, yet he knew in his heart the man was telling the truth. All strength drained from his body as he sat there, dumbfounded.

  “I want to know exactly what he did to Shelby,” Shane said.

  “Why? What difference does it make?” Dawson’s voice came out tight and constricted; he was breathless, as though his heart had stopped beating. “He hurt her. That’s all that matters.”

  “And you saw it all!” Shane’s eyes were wild now and his face was flushed.

  “I saw someone who needed help and I helped her. That’s all I saw.” Shane’s reaction had Dawson’s heart beating once more. Angry now, he rose shakily to his feet. “ You can leave now, Freeman. You’ve had your say.”

  Shane stood up to face Dawson, eye to eye. “You owe Cassie now. Marrying her is the least you can do. In the meantime, I intend to take Shelby home as soon as she’s able to leave. And when I do, you can bet she’ll never want to see you again. I’ll make damn sure of that!”

  Dawson’s fists were opening and closing at his sides as he gestured with his chin toward the opening in the floor where the stairs emerged.“I said get out. Get out of my house.”

  Shane was coming down the stairs as Miriam opened the door at the bottom. She stepped back to let him pass, then peered up the stairs. “Sonny?”

  “It’s all right, Ma.” He slumped weakly onto the deacon’s bench and leaned back to rest his head against the cold window pane. When Miriam reached the top of the stairs, tears were coursing down his cheeks, but he could not tell her why.

  Shelby was surprised when she heard Shane leave without saying good-bye. She knew she had hurt him when she refused to go home, yet he had seemed to understand. Her heart ached for him at the same time that she knew she didn’t want to go back to that house.

  She sighed and shifted her weight in the bed. Every position hurt in spite of the pillows and extra padding Mrs. Penfield had provided. Her pelvic bones ached, her backbone and joints were stiff, and her insides were painfully tender. She lay back against the pillows in her world of darkness and let the hot, tears of self-pity flow as she listened to the stillness around her. Mrs. Penfield had left the kitchen and disappeared behind a closed door. Shelby was totally alone.

  She reached up to push the annoying loose hairs from her face, and her arm brushed against her bruised breast. In an instant, everything came back in a terrifying rush. Blake was there with his horrible rough hands and his disgusting hot breath, and he was all over her, ripping at her clothes and touching her and violating her and there was nothing she could do stop him because he was so strong and she was in so much pain. The pain was endless and excruciating, and to pass out would have been a blessing. But she didn’t pass out. The pain just went on and on in nauseating, pulsing waves and then, just when it began to subside a little, a second man was in the room, and she knew it was about to start all over again. He put his hands on her and she screamed and she fought once more, but he surrounded her with his greater strength until she could no longer fight, and then she turned inward and waited, for her body was already in so much throbbing agony, she did not believe it could get much worse, and if he killed her, it would be an act of mercy. But he didn’t kill her. Instead, he carried her out into the cold and put her in a car, bound in blankets so she could not move, and took her on a seemingly endless, terrifying ride, until finally the noise and the motion stopped, and then she was being pulled from the car so the torture could start all over again. She fought then as best she could, but too many people were holding her down, and when they pulled away the covers and began to touch her once more, all she could do was scream until she lost consciousness.

  And now she was here, in this foreign place that smelled of sweet wood smoke and freshly baked bread and at first, she thought she had truly passed on to a better world and was disappointed to realize that she still could not see. A woman with gentle hands and a kindly voice was talking to her as she rose to the surface from her well of deep sleep, and the woman kept reassuring her that everything was all right. She was with Miriam Penfield now, the woman said, and she was safe. No one would hurt her. Miriam would protect her and take care of her and nurse her back to health. The woman ran a soothing hand over Shelby’s forehead, brushed back her hair, then tempted her with warm, fragrant tea and homemade muffins, but Shelby was too groggy to eat. All she wanted was to sleep so she would not remember and would not hurt.

  And so she had slept and slept, accepting only water but no food, and she was able to relax under the woman’s touch. Only once, when she heard a man’s boots come near the room had she been frightened. But Mrs. Penfield was there to protect her and sent the man away, and Shelby had drifted back to sleep. At some point, Cassie had come to see her, but try as she might, Shelby could not stay awake and eventually Cassie had left. Until Shane’s visit this morning, she had not been visited by anyone else, which was exactly how she wanted it.

  She was brought back to the present by footsteps approaching her room. “Shelby, it’s Ma. I’m bringing you some chicken soup. Homemade. It’s got a little bit of carrots and celery and rice. I put it in a cup so you can drink it right down.”

  S
helby pushed herself up to a sitting position, wincing as she settled onto her sore hips once more. “Thank you.” The soup smelled good, and for the first time since her arrival here she felt the pangs of hunger.

  Mrs. Penfield placed the warm cup in her hands and laid a napkin in her lap. “I have milk fresh from the cow if you’d like some.”

  “I don’t drink milk.”

  “Have you ever had it fresh? Not pasteurized? Or homogenized?”

  Shelby shook her head, then sipped at the soup. It tasted like something her grandmother used to make, and a wonderful sense of well-being came over her with the memories it evoked.

  “I think you might like it. Let me get you a taste.”

  Mrs. Penfield left the room and Shelby drank down the remainder of the soup. When the woman returned, she took the empty cup from Shelby’s hand and replaced it with a small glass of cold milk. Shelby dutifully sipped at it.

  “Could I please have more of that soup? It’s very good.”

  Mrs. Penfield left the room once more. A door in the distance opened and closed, and Shelby wondered if the woman had left the house until she heard a man’s voice. Dawson’s voice.

  Dawson.

  And suddenly she remembered more about that terrifying night with Blake. The second man, talking to her and holding her so she couldn’t move … it was Dawson. Dawson had come into the room when she was there with Blake. Dawson had touched her. He had been there …

  She forgot about the glass in her hand, and it slipped to the floor, bouncing noisily off the nightstand before hitting the throw rug.

  “Are you okay?” Mrs. Penfield sounded breathless, as though she had run across the kitchen. “Oh, my dear, you look white. Are you getting sick?”

  Shelby shook her head. “Where’s Dawson?”

  “He’s in the bathroom. He just came in from outside. Do you want me to get him?”

  “No!” Shelby fairly shouted, and her own breaths were coming quickly now. “No. Never. I don’t want him near me.”

  “It’s okay. He’s not coming in here. It’s okay.” Mrs. Penfield’s voice came closer and then her soft hand was gently smoothing back Shelby’s hair once more.

  “He was there.”

  “He’s the one who found you. He … he stopped it.”

  “I don’t want him near me.”

  “I understand. It’s okay. I won’t let him come near you.”

  Shelby drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry about the glass. I’m sorry if I made a mess.” The ever-present tears began to well in her eyes once more.

  “Oh my goodness, there is no mess and it wouldn’t matter if there was. You just lie back and take it easy. Everything’s going to be okay, now. You just wait and see.”

  “Did Shane bring my radio?”

  “Yes. Yes, he did. It’s over on the dresser. I can put it on the nightstand here by the bed. Will that be okay?”

  “Yes. And Mrs. Penfield?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want Shane here again either. No men.”

  Mrs. Penfield’s voice was soft and kind. “I understand, sweetie. I won’t let in any men.”

  Cassie was exhausted. She sat in the comfortable armchair beside Shelby’s bed, thankful for the chance to close her eyes. Shelby was asleep, as she had been two days ago when Cassie had stopped by. Sleep was what Cassie needed the most and was least able to get.

  She dozed in the chair and when she awoke, Sonny was standing in the doorway on the other side of the bed . His eyes were resting on Shelby’s sleeping form illuminated by the bedside lamp. Cassie sat up in her chair, and Sonny turned to look at her, then motioned for her to come out into the kitchen.

  Cassie reluctantly left the chair and waddled out to the kitchen. Sonny held out a wooden chair at the table for her, then sat down around the corner of the table and leaned toward her. “How’s your father?”

  His beautiful dark eyes were trained on her, and Cassie felt a familiar longing for him. But she had seen the look on his face when he stood watching Shelby, and she knew where his heart lay.

  “Better. He should be out of CCU by tomorrow sometime.”

  “Good. Cass … I don’t know how to say this any other way, so I’m going to be blunt. I know who the father is. I wish you had told me.”

  Cassie turned her face away from his and stared out the window toward the dooryard. “I had my reasons.”

  “I know all about your reasons. Shane made them painfully clear. I’m really pleased to know that Shane knew before I did.”

  Astounded, Cassie turned back to look into his face. She had hoped for some sympathy or concern but saw only self-righteous anger. She put her hands to her face and rubbed her burning eyes. “What difference does it make?”

  “It’s my blood relative. It’s my mother’s grandchild.”

  Cassie looked up at him. “Does she know?”

  “Not yet. But she will soon enough. Right now she doesn’t need another slap in the face.”

  Cassie shook her head and fought back the angry tears that threatened to make a fool of her. He didn’t have a shred of concern for her; this was about Shane and about how it would affect his mother.

  She rose to her feet and stared down at him. “But of course. How thoughtless of me to be raped by your brother!” she snapped. “How selfish of me to keep it all inside without telling anyone! Because we all know, Sonny, that my being raped by your fucking brother is really inconvenient for you!”

  “Jeez, Cass. Slow down! I didn’t mean it that way.” He stood up to face her. “I wish you hadn’t kept it to yourself. I can’t imagine how you did it. And I’m sorry it was because I’m such a bastard!” He stepped out around the table and reached out to put his arms around her, pulling her close. “So what do we do about it, Cass?”

  Cassie’s laugh was short and bitter as she put both hands on his chest and pushed him away. “We don’t do a goddamn thing. I have the baby in another month. You go on with your life.”

  Sonny stood staring at her, his arms at his sides. “And what about getting married?”

  “It’s not going to happen.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that now. I owe you more than that.”

  Cassie shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s not your baby.”

  “I wasn’t Ma’s baby,“ he said softly. He looked as though he were on the verge of tears, and Cassie’s voice softened.

  “I won’t be the woman you married because you felt you had to. You don’t love me, Sonny, and I don’t want a husband who doesn’t love me.” She turned away from him and headed for the door. “I’m going to go home and go to bed. Tell Shelby I came by, will you?”

  “Are you going to be okay? You look terrible.”

  “Thanks. That was sweet.”

  Sonny pursed his lips in irritation. “Where are you staying now?”

  “With my sisters.” Cassie took her cloak from the hook by the door. “When do you think Shelby will be going home?”

  Sonny’s dark eyes shifted toward his mother’s room. “I don’t know. Not for a while.”

  Cassie nodded. “I think it would be best if she stayed here. I’ll need to be home with my dad when he gets out of the hospital, and then I’ll be having my baby. Does your ma mind having her in the house? I suppose she’s a lot of work.”

  “Not really. But I don’t know how long she’ll want to stay here.”

  Cassie buttoned the cloak and turned toward the door. “Keep her here, Sonny. It’s time she made the break from Shane. Tell her I’ll come by tomorrow. Say good-bye to your mom.”

  After watching Cassie drive away, Dawson went to the pantry and took out the apple pie his mother had made. He cut a piece and put it on a plate, then poured himself a glass of milk. He carried them both to the kitchen table, where he rummaged through the pile of mail and newspapers. The latest Yankee Magazine caught his eye, and he pulled it out of the stack. He was about to sit down when he heard Shelby’s voice calling from th
e other room.

  He crossed the kitchen and went into the parlor. The bedroom doorway was immediately to his left, and he paused, remembering what his ma had told him. Shelby was sitting up in the bed, her face turned toward the door. The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a gentle, golden glow on her face and upper body, and his heart skipped a beat when he looked at her. He wanted so badly to go in and wrap his arms around her, but he knew she was nowhere near ready for that.