Where She Belongs

by Johnnie Alexander

  “Aubrey Grayson and Thad Lassiter.” She let Tabby slide to the ground. “My grandma Aubrey is Uncle Richard’s sister.” Richard had been at Misty Willow when Shelby and the girls drove in from Chicago. He had welcomed them to their new home with American Girl dolls and accessories. Too extravagant of a gift, but kindly meant.

  That was almost a week ago. After a few days unpacking, Shelby couldn’t wait any longer to explore the land that belonged to her again.

  “Who belongs to these letters?” Elizabeth pointed to a heart, lower than all the others, on the other side of the tree. “S. L. and J. O.”

  The initials that shouldn’t be.

  “The S. L. means me. S for Shelby and L for Lassiter.”

  Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. “Your name is different?”

  “My name was Lassiter. When I was a little girl like you. Then when I married Daddy, I changed my name to Kincaid.”

  “Daddy’s initials are J. O.?”

  Shelby stifled her laughter at Elizabeth’s skeptical expression. She could almost see her daughter’s mind working, trying to puzzle out this mystery.

  “No, Daddy’s initials are G. K. For Gary Kincaid.”

  “Then why does it say J. O.?”

  Elizabeth had met Jason and Cassie a few days ago when they brought over lasagna and salad. How to explain to a six-year-old why Jason’s initials were paired with hers on the ’gagement tree?

  “I think that’s enough family history. Who’s hungry?”

  Both girls responded with shouts and jumps as Shelby retrieved the insulated tote from the wagon and spread a blanket in the shade near the bend in the creek.

  “We came a long way, didn’t we, Mommy?” Elizabeth plopped on the blanket.

  “We sure did.” Not that far really as the crow flies. But because of the wagon, she had to skirt the woods and follow a fencerow through a pasture. The house was hidden by distance. “But worth it, don’t you think? Isn’t it nice out here?”

  Elizabeth gazed at the sun-dappled water of the broad creek as if in deep thought. “I like it.”

  “I like it too.” Tabby dropped next to Shelby and folded her hands. “I pray.”

  Shelby and Elizabeth echoed Tabby’s amen. After they ate their sandwiches and sliced apples, Shelby washed their juice-stained lips and sticky fingers.

  “Time for wading.” She helped Tabby take off the top and shorts she wore over her bathing suit while Elizabeth undressed herself. “Leave your tennis shoes on,” she instructed. “No walking barefoot in the creek.”

  As they splashed in the cold water, their laughter and squeals warmed Shelby’s heart. She sighed as a contentment she hadn’t felt in years soothed her spirit. This was why she had pleaded with AJ to sell her the land, why she had uprooted her children from the only home they had known.

  To create memories in this place where their ancestors had created memories. To add their laughter to the merriment of those who had been here before them.

  Perhaps even to find romance. Brett had sent a huge basket of fruit, snacks, and candy as a housewarming gift. Though she hadn’t seen him since their arrival, he called or texted almost every day. Nothing would probably come of it—and she definitely wasn’t in a rush to marry anyone—but the flirtatious attentions from such a handsome and successful man made her pleasantly lighthearted. Flattered by his interest in her opinions, she appreciated their grown-up conversations. Even when they disagreed, he didn’t make her feel naive or uninformed.

  A turtle about the size of Shelby’s fist crawled onto a rock jutting from the creek bed. Tabby clapped her hands in delight as it waggled its head, apparently curious about its visitors.

  “Don’t get too close,” Shelby warned. “We don’t want to frighten him.”

  “Can we take him home?” Elizabeth asked.

  “This is his home, honey. He wouldn’t be happy anywhere else.”

  Hearing a soft whistle behind her, Shelby twisted around. AJ Sullivan, a fishing pole slung across his shoulder, approached the bend. Tan cargo shorts and a high school T-shirt revealed muscular arms and legs. He had tanned since she last saw him that evening at the Dixie Diner. Such a fun evening it had been with their juicy cheeseburgers and thick milkshakes.

  At least she had thought so. But without meaning to, she’d upset him. It bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  Ever since she and the girls moved in, she had expected him to pop in. But there’d been no sign of him. Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he was still a Sullivan. Probably more like his grandfather than she knew.

  The less contact with him the better.

  He halted when he saw them, as if uncertain what to do. She gave a hesitant wave and self-consciously pushed loose strands from her face as Elizabeth stepped behind her. Slender damp arms encircled her neck.

  “Nice day for wading,” AJ said, coming toward them. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

  “We found a turtle,” Tabby spoke up before Shelby could answer.

  “That so?” He waded to the rock and bent down by Tabby. “I know this turtle. He always comes out here on a good hot day to get a suntan. And then when the moon comes up, he slides back into the water and swims home to his family, and he tells them about the people he met.”

  “What’s his name?” Tabby’s baby blue eyes sparkled.

  “His name is”—AJ paused, grimacing at Shelby over Tabby’s head—“his name is Tommy. Tommy Turtle.”

  “Very original,” Shelby said in a stage whisper.

  He shrugged sheepishly.

  “Can I touch him?” Tabby asked.

  Shelby nodded permission. As AJ reached for the turtle, it receded into its shell. Tabby stretched out one small finger, barely touched the shell, and pulled her hand back with a shriek.

  “It’s hard,” she said, reaching out to touch it again.

  “Can I touch it too?” Elizabeth asked, peering out from behind Shelby.

  “Of course, honey.”

  Elizabeth tapped the turtle’s hard shell and smiled at Shelby.

  “Turtles are pretty lucky, I think,” said AJ. “They carry their houses with them on their back. When they get tired, they just go right into their doors and windows.”

  “We have a big house,” said Elizabeth. “It’s too big to carry around.”

  “I could carry it,” Tabby boasted.

  “I bet you could.” AJ placed the turtle back on the rock, but it stayed inside its shell. “I guess this means you’re all moved in.”

  “Moved in, yes,” Shelby said. “Completely unpacked, no.”

  He grinned at the girls, squatting to their level. “Will you tell me your names? Or should I guess?”

  “I’m Tabby.” She poked her chest with her thumb.

  “So glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Tabby. And who’s this lovely lady?”

  “Elizabeth.” She smiled shyly.

  “My grandmother’s middle name was Elizabeth. It’s one of my favorite names.”

  Was. Shelby stared at AJ. His jaw clenched, but he talked to the girls as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Is Tabby one of your fav’rite names too?”

  AJ poked her tummy, and she giggled. “It sure is.”

  “You haven’t told us your name,” Elizabeth said.

  “My name is, are you ready for this? Anderson John Sullivan the Fourth.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes grew round. Even Shelby had to admit it sounded impressive when he said it like that.

  “What’s this for?” Tabby grabbed the fishing pole.

  “Fishing.” AJ casually extricated her grip.

  “You won’t catch anything with us splashing around,” Shelby said. “It’s time we headed home anyway.”

  “I can fish another day. I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

  “Will you wade with us, Mr. Fourth?”

  Shelby and AJ glanced at Elizabeth, then at each other, and stifled their laughter.


  “His name isn’t Mr. Fourth, sweetheart.” Shelby squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder. “That just means he’s the fourth person in his family with the same name.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth formed a small O, and she hung her head. Shelby stroked her hair, brushing stray wisps from her pale cheeks.

  “You can call me AJ, if you want. All my friends do.” He glanced at Shelby. “If that’s okay with your mom.”

  Elizabeth gazed up at Shelby, her green-flecked eyes pleading. “Is it okay, Mommy?”

  Shelby wavered. Normally she didn’t let the girls call adults by their first names, but Elizabeth had been mortified by her mistake. She didn’t suppose they’d see much of AJ anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

  “How about you call him Mr. AJ?”

  Elizabeth’s thankful smile told her she’d made the right decision.

  Tabby tugged at the hem of AJ’s shorts. “Fish now.”

  “Tabitha Jean,” Shelby said in her you-don’t-talk-like-that-to-grown-ups voice.

  “I wanna know how.”

  “You don’t know how to fish? That’s terrible.” AJ’s brown eyes were wide with exaggerated horror. “If you’re going to be a farm girl, you gotta know how to fish.”

  “I wanna be a farm girl.” Tabby jumped up and down. “Farm girl. Farm girl.”

  “You started this.” Shelby pretended to glare at AJ as she crossed her arms. “What are you going to do now?”

  “Teach her to fish. Unless you’d like to.”

  “You go ahead. I need to clean things up a bit.” She knelt on the blanket, then placed the picnic leftovers back in the insulated tote.

  AJ gathered his fishing equipment and led the girls a few feet up the creek to a deeper bend. Bored after about five minutes, Tabby wandered back to Shelby and was soon asleep in her lap.

  Elizabeth and AJ were too far away for Shelby to hear their conversation, but once in a while, her little girl’s laughter or AJ’s chuckle floated on the light summer breeze. The sound warmed Shelby’s spirit. AJ’s quiet patience obviously filled a hole in Elizabeth’s grieving heart. Shelby couldn’t dislike him for that.

  Her eyelids grew heavy in the summer heat, but she startled, immediately alert, when Elizabeth squealed. Wind bent the long grasses near the bank, and the creek reflected graying clouds.

  “I got one!” Elizabeth shouted. “I got one!”

  Shelby gingerly moved Tabby from her lap and walked to the bend. With AJ’s help, Elizabeth reeled in the line. A silvery fish, no more than five or six inches long, struggled on the hook.

  AJ held it up. “I told you we’d get one. Just takes patience.”

  “I caught it, Mommy.” Elizabeth grabbed Shelby’s hand, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “All by myself.”

  “You did great, honey.”

  “She sure did. Just like a pro.” AJ knelt in front of Elizabeth. “What do you say we throw him back in the creek? Give him a chance to get a little bigger.”

  Elizabeth stared at the little fish wiggling in AJ’s palms. “Can I do it?”

  AJ carefully unhooked the fish and slipped it into her upturned palms, cupping them with his own. Together they knelt at the edge of the creek and placed their hands in the water. The fish quickly swam away.

  A stronger gust stirred up ripples in the creek, and the sky darkened. Black clouds melded together, racing toward them.

  “Storm’s coming,” AJ said.

  “I need to get the girls home.”

  “You’ll never make it. My place is closer.”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “I suppose you’ve found something else to be mad about.” He glanced at Elizabeth still kneeling at the creek bank, and lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “What is it this time?”

  “You’re the one who’s mad,” Shelby whispered back.

  “What are you talking about?”

  A lightning bolt flashed in the sky, and Elizabeth rushed to Shelby’s side. Embracing her daughter, Shelby gazed at the gathering clouds. AJ was right. She’d never make it home before the storm hit. “Where do you live?”

  “That way.” He gestured southwest. Gusts of wind swept across the pasture, bending the long grasses and stirring up dust eddies. The willow’s branches danced wildly.

  AJ closed his tackle box and picked up his pole. “Are you coming with me?”

  Staring toward her unseen house, Shelby considered her options. It’d taken them almost an hour to get here. The storm wouldn’t wait for them to reach home.

  “We’re going with you.”

  – 10 –

  AJ packed the wagon and parked it beneath the willow while Shelby helped the girls pull shorts and tops over their swimsuits.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Nodding, she finished tying Tabby’s sneaker.

  “I’ll take her.” AJ picked up Tabby, still drowsy from her nap, and led the way alongside the lazy curve of the bank until the creek veered sharply north beside a cornfield. As they walked single file through a corn row, the green stalks rubbed his bare legs. At the edge of the field, they crossed a wooden bridge over a narrow branch of the creek.

  “My place is just over that rise,” he said when they reached the other side. “Not much farther.”

  “Are we going to beat the storm?” As if to answer Shelby’s question, thunder cracked overhead, and another bolt of lightning split the sky. She flinched and grasped Elizabeth’s hand. Giant raindrops pelted their heads, gaining momentum with each passing second.

  “Come on.” AJ tucked Tabby’s head beneath his chin and raced awkwardly up the hill on the well-worn footpath. Halfway up, he glanced back at Shelby. Her head was bent against the downpour, and her arm was around Elizabeth’s shoulder. Together they stumbled up the path several feet behind him.

  When he neared the top of the hill, he paused and waited for Shelby to catch up.

  “The grass will be slippery going down,” he said. “Can you make it?” He followed Shelby’s gaze to where his cottage nestled into the hillside. The rectangular house, painted pale beige with deep brown trim, seemed practically a part of the hill itself. A secluded place, hidden by the rise on one side and surrounded by tall hedges and taller trees on the others. When Gran lived in Columbus, the cottage had been her refuge. Now it was his.

  “We’ll manage.”

  “Let’s go.” He half-ran, half-slid down the slope, praying he wouldn’t fall. Or die of asphyxiation from Tabby’s arms gripping his neck. Who knew a three-year-old could be so strong?

  Reaching the back door, he fumbled in his pocket for his key and unlocked the door. Once inside the tiny kitchen, Shelby and her girls stood in a huddle, water pooling around their soaked feet.

  “Doggy!” Tabby exclaimed.

  His dog, a creamy Labrador retriever, plodded into the kitchen and sniffed Tabby’s outstretched hands. White bandages encased one foreleg.

  “This is Lila. She had a wrangle with a mean old groundhog a few days ago.”

  “Poor Lila,” Elizabeth murmured, patting the dog’s head and whispering in her ear. “Does it hurt much?”

  AJ gazed at Shelby, wishing he could read her thoughts as she looked around the small room. His cottage, not much wider than a double-wide trailer, couldn’t compare to Misty Willow with its many rooms.

  At least he’d washed the dishes.

  “The bathroom’s through here.” He opened the door and stepped inside. “Plenty of towels. Use whatever you need. I’ll try to scrounge up some dry clothes.”

  Grabbing a towel for himself, he slid open the pocket door on the other side and entered his bedroom. He closed the door behind him, quickly dried off, and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. After rummaging through his drawers, he came up with sweatshirts, a pair of navy sweatpants for Shelby, and three pairs of thick white socks. He grinned at how big they’d be on the girls, but at least their little legs would be warm.

  He knocked on the pocket door. “Are you decent? I’ve got clot
hes.”

  “Decent enough.” Shelby slid the door halfway open, and he handed her the stack. “Thanks,” she murmured before disappearing behind the closed door.

  “Come on, Lila.” The retriever sprawled across his bed. “I bet those girls would like some of my famous hot chocolate.”

  Unable to take the shortcut through the bathroom to the kitchen, he went the long way. Lila followed him into the study next to his bedroom and down a step into the long room that ran the front length of the house. Built-in cabinets and shelves lined the lower half of the long wall, a row of windows above them. Outside, the rain came down in thick gray sheets, obscuring his view of the trees and hedges surrounding the place. Thunder rolled overhead.

  He stepped up into the kitchen, Lila close behind him. She caught the treat he tossed to her, then curled into a tight ball under the table.

  As AJ stirred milk into his melted chocolate and sugar mixture, he heard Shelby’s soft voice. His chest tightened, a pang for what he didn’t have.

  A wife. Children.

  Carrying Tabby through the rain, being mindful of Shelby and Elizabeth behind him . . . He shook his head against the aching truth. For a short time, their need had fulfilled his instinct to protect. But now they were safe, and his heart beat with yearning.

  The bathroom door opened, and Shelby’s girls spilled out in oversized sweatshirts that hung below their knees. The rolled-up sleeves still reached to their wrists.

  “Do you have a bag I can put these in?” Shelby held a folded stack of wet clothes.

  “You can put them in the dryer. Right there.” He pointed his wooden spoon at a bifold door in the corner. She opened it, revealing a stacked washer/dryer unit, and fiddled with the dryer settings.

  “Hot cocoa coming up.” AJ pulled a bag from the pantry and shook it at Elizabeth and Tabby. “Who likes marshmallows?”

  The girls raised their hands, chanting, “I do, I do.”

  The hum of the dryer lessened when Shelby shut the door. “How can I help?”

  “Do you mind if they have cookies?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Cookie jar’s beside the fridge.”

  Shelby picked up the ceramic jar, a calico kitten peeking out from a wicker basket, with both hands. “Aww. This is so adorable.”