A Matter of Trust

by Wendy Davy

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “Well,” he said and stood up, “different things at different times. Right now I’m a handyman.”

  James’ attention turned to a boat speeding past in the lake. Anger poured through him and his jaw clenched as he watched a boat speed by with a group of young people hollering and shouting.

  “What is it?” Victoria turned to look at the boat.

  James stood still as the boat passed by, watching it intently.

  “What is it James?”

  He flipped open his cell phone without answering her and made a call. He gave the person who answered the boat license number and a detailed description of each of the occupants. He asked that they be checked out for drunk driving on the lake before he hung up.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?” James glanced her way.

  “You just described each of the people in that boat in detail. I couldn’t even count the number of people in it, much less what color hair they had and what they were wearing.”

  “I have an eye for detail. I always have,” James waylaid her question.

  Victoria asked, “Why are you so angry?”

  James didn’t respond at first. He took her empty lemonade bottle and shoved it in a bag he had on board for trash, tossing his bottle in with it. He said, “We need to get back.”

  Victoria stood up and put a restraining hand on his arm as he reached to turn the key in the ignition. “Wait, James. Please, what is it?”

  He stood still, debating whether to tell her. He looked down into her beguiling eyes and gave in. A part of him wanted to see her reaction. To see if she was any different than the few other people he had told down through the years.

  “My brother was killed by a drunk driver. He shouldn’t have been out on the road that night. He was my responsibility and it’s my fault he’s dead,” he said.

  He waited for the onslaught of questions. He waited for the usual reply. I’m so sorry or it wasn’t your fault…or the one he hated the most, life goes on. But the response from Victoria was not what he had expected.

  He heard only compassion in her voice when she asked, “Have you forgiven the drunk driver? Have you forgiven yourself?”

  Those simple, softly spoken words jolted him to his core. No one had ever asked him that before. After a brief pause he answered, “No. The drunk driver died in the accident along with Danny, and I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

  Victoria leaned close to him and continued to hold his arm. He saw compassion in her eyes as she said, “You can still forgive the driver, even if he’s dead. Forgiving him is for your benefit anyway, not his. You are the one that’s still hurting.”

  “He doesn’t deserve it, Vic,” James said coldly.

  “Maybe not. But you do. You’re only hurting yourself by holding on to the anger. Forgive him and yourself and the pain will ease.”

  James pulled away from her. “You don’t know what I did that night. How can you say that?”

  “What did you do?”

  Tension radiated from his body. He sighed and stood silent for a moment as he debated whether to tell her or not. “It was a long time ago, Victoria. It doesn’t matter. It’s getting late. Let’s go,” James said as he cranked the motor. His movements were purposeful and jerky. His relaxed state had disappeared completely.

  ****

  Victoria wished she knew what to tell him. Obviously it did matter what happened that night, but he wasn’t willing to share it with her. Victoria shoved aside the sting that caused. What do you say in these circumstances? Lord, please comfort James. Help him to forgive. Help me know how to help him. What to say.

  She thought about the pain he must have suffered through. The pain he was unwilling to let go of. As they returned to the dock, Victoria took hold of his hand, looked into his eyes and said, “I’m sorry.”

  James nodded slowly. It looked like he may want to say something, but didn’t. Maybe she could get him to open up to her later.

  “I’ll walk you up.”

  At the door, Victoria fiddled with her keys. She dropped them once before getting the door open. His admission had touched her heart. She wanted to ask details of the tragedy, but knew he had to come forth with them on his own. She wanted to make him forgive then and there, but knew it had to be his choice.

  As he stood next to her in the doorway, Victoria saw his tension ease a little. “It was a long time ago, Vic. I’m okay.”

  She felt fragile standing next to his tall, muscular body. But safe, she also felt safe. She instinctively knew he would not use his strength against her.

  He lifted her hand and touched them to his lips. His eyes never left hers as he said, “Get some sleep, baby.” The tenderness in his low voice touched her. He gave her a disarming smile, turned suddenly and disappeared into the night.

  Baby.

  He had called her baby. James Montgomery baffled her. One moment he was hard-edged and demanding, the next he was gentle and kind. Learning a little about him tonight left her with a hunger to learn more. She wondered what had transpired the night his brother died, and if he truly did have a reason to feel guilty or if he put the blame upon himself with no substantial cause. As she drifted off to sleep that night, she vowed to find out what happened to his brother, and to help James find forgiveness.

  A Matter Of Trust

  A Matter Of Trust

  Chapter Four

  Victoria stayed busy in the days that followed. She established a good foothold in helping Gramps, often making dinner for him. On the days he wasn’t home, she left a plate in the fridge for him. She searched the internet and found many diabetic recipes that she made use of. Gramps especially liked the low sugar desserts she whipped up for him. He thought since he was diabetic all the sweet treats were forbidden and he was thrilled to find he could enjoy low sugar delights. He often thanked her for the desserts more than the meal itself.

  Victoria enjoyed Gramps’ company. They often rocked side by side on the porch and spent hours talking and remembering days gone by. He liked to talk about the past, so she sat and listened to him wistfully tell stories about things he and her grandmother had done over the years. Victoria had asked Gramps, more than once, where he spirited off to at all hours of the day and night. He always shrugged and said, “Here and there.” She let it go, knowing him well enough to know he would tell her if and when he was ready. She began to suspect he may have a girlfriend that he wanted to keep secret.

  She fell easily into a routine of running in the morning, followed by a short time of picking weeds from the flower beds around the farmhouse and cottage. She didn’t enjoy the task of weeding, but with only a few minutes a day she had begun to see some progress.

  Victoria took several long drives in the countryside to reacquaint herself with the beautiful surroundings. She drove past her new school a few times, wondering with a little bit of jittery nerves if she would fit in at Chisolm Elementary.

  She had enough experience with five year old students to know how their little minds worked. Figuring out how grown men’s minds worked turned out to be a different story. James Montgomery’s mind in particular. He had been around working, but he hadn’t made any direct advances toward her in the several days that followed the ride in the boat. Victoria occasionally watched him work when he wasn’t looking. She would not deny that he worked hard and put every effort into the task he focused on. He had the old, broken down truck back to running status in a few days. He washed and polished it, cleaned out the interior. Victoria admired his attention to detail and thoroughness. He occasionally flirted with her, with a comment here and there. But it he often seemed distracted.

  One afternoon, as Victoria worked on a new diabetic blueberry pie recipe for Gramps, she thought of the night she took the boat ride with James and about his reluctance to talk about his brother. She wanted to bring it up again to try to help him, but the timing never seemed to be right. Her thoughts continued to wonder
as she washed the blueberries in the sink. Her hands turned a purplish-blue where some of the berries burst in her hands and she popped a few in her mouth as she worked.

  James appeared at the sliding glass door. His knuckles tapped solidly against the glass in two solid knocks.

  “Come on in.” Victoria motioned him inside feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through her at the sight of him.

  “Hey,” James said wearing a grin as he slid the door open. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Oh, I um…I’m in the middle of making a pie.”

  “I can wait.” James came in and sauntered up to the bar in the kitchen and leaned into it. His shoulder muscles bunched under his t-shirt, showing the strength that lay beneath. A slight breeze made its way through the door he left open and the wind chimes carried a soft tune through the cottage. “It’s a beautiful day. Enjoy a bit of it with me.”

  Victoria tilted her head slightly. For days and days he had kept at a distance, now out of the blue he wants to take a walk? Curiosity got the better of her.

  “It’ll only take a few minutes to finish,” she answered and continued putting the pie together. “I’ll put it in the fridge and bake it later.”

  “Great. I’ll wait outside for you.”

  The day proved to be a gorgeous one. Only a few clouds dusted the bright blue sky. Hawks circled high above the mountains, searching for food. The unusually cool, July day turned out to be perfect for a hike. Victoria and James set out at a brisk pace then they slowed as they neared the deeper part of the foliage.

  “Watch out for snakes,” James warned as he helped her climb over a few protruding boulders. His hand remained braided with hers after they had past the rocky terrain.

  “I haven’t seen but a couple on my runs in the morning. They mostly run from me.”

  “Mostly?” James grinned at her.

  “Yeah. I’ll admit one day I came too close to one before I saw it. I must have jumped two feet.”

  “Was it poisonous?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t get a good look at the shape of its head to find out.”

  “You shouldn’t run alone. What if one bites you?”

  “I started carrying my cell phone and pepper spray with me after I thought I saw a man in the woods.”

  James stopped dead still. He turned to her and asked, “What?”

  “When I first moved here, I ran extra early to make sure I finished before the movers came. I thought I saw a man in the woods.”

  James moved closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Where did you see him?”

  “I didn’t think about it. I’ll show you where on the way back. I saw him near the house.”

  He took her arms in his hands. “What was he wearing? What was he doing?”

  “I don’t know, it was still fairly dark under the trees, and foggy. It was hard to see. I saw him leaning over something. I don’t know, James. I don’t know what I saw.”

  “Could it have been your grandfather?”

  “No. He wasn’t home.”

  “Promise me you’ll call me if anything like that happens again. Right away.”

  “I will,” Victoria promised, surprised at the intensity of his words.

  “I don’t like that someone was in the woods, prowling. I don’t want anything happening to you.” His eyes embraced hers for several seconds before they began walking again.

  Victoria warmed at his protective reaction. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Good.” James led the way, stopping short of a clearing up ahead. He turned to face her. “Close your eyes.”

  “What? Why?” Victoria tried to peek around him.

  “Trust me.”

  If only he knew how much she had been trying to do just that. Hesitantly, she closed them.

  He scooped her up into his arms and started carrying her. She struggled briefly before he said, “I said to trust me. Now, keep them closed,” James insisted as he held her in steady, unrelenting arms.

  “This is hard for me,” Victoria said but kept her eyes squeezed shut. “I like to know where I’m going.”

  “This is where the trust comes in. Relax.” James walked out of the trees and into the bright, warm sun. “Okay, open.”

  Victoria’s heart leapt with surprise. She saw a blanket spread out carefully next to a cooler, a portable grill and everything needed for a picnic on the beach.

  Victoria’s smile spoke volumes, but she asked, “How did you know I’d come with you?”

  “It’s simple. When I want something, I don’t take no for an answer.”

  James pulled two steaks out of a cooler and lit up the grill. He sprinkled salt and pepper on the meat while he waited for the coals to burn down to blazing orange embers. Meanwhile he set up the plates, napkins and offered Victoria a soda.

  “Thanks. Can I help with anything?”

  “No. I’ve got it.” He gave her an enthusiastic smile. “You just relax and enjoy yourself.”

  Victoria grinned and watched a sailboat pass by in quiet splendor. Its sails whipped in the blowing breeze. Her mouth watered when the steak sizzled on the grill and the resulting aroma met her full on. She watched in amazement as James pulled out corn on the cob, wrapped it in foil and cooked it along with the steak. He pulled out butter for the corn and set it up on the blanket.

  “Why are you doing all of this for me?”

  “I like you,” he replied simply.

  “Oh. Well…” Victoria absentmindedly smoothed her hair back and sat a little straighter. She adjusted her clothes and tried her best not to nip on a nail. “Thanks, it’s nice. I love being outside. Speaking of outside, did you know there’s a festival coming up this weekend down in Bedson Creek?”

  “I’ve heard about it.”

  “I’m planning on going. I love the atmosphere at those things with everyone laughing and having a good time. Are you going?” Victoria immediately wished she could take back the words. It sounded like she asked him to go with her.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said, continuing to prepare the picnic.

  Relieved he didn’t pick up on her blunder she said, “I love picnics. There’s nothing like eating outside. Well, at least most of the time,” Victoria’s voice trailed off into silence.

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “I just thought of something that happened a long time ago.”

  “What?” he prodded.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time. Tell me,” James said as he flipped the steaks. He sat down next to her, and propped his elbows on his knees. He waited patiently as Victoria carefully chose her next words.

  “One time I went on a picnic, I was almost raped.”

  James’ head spun around toward her. “What?”

  “I was only seventeen. It happened during one of the summers I lived here. I had a crush on this guy, who happened to be the sheriff’s only son. His name is Eric. He’s the one that came up to the dock on the Jet Ski.”

  James stared hard at her. “Go on.”

  “We dated for a few summers, while I lived here with my grandparents. Things went okay the first summer. Then the next summer, he became aggressive.” Victoria lifted her knees to her chest and hugged them. “One night when we went out, he said he didn’t want to wait, said I was a tease. Honestly, I didn’t tease him. I never led him to believe that I would…anyway. He originally said he had a picnic planned for us but he had something else planned entirely. I should have known something was up when he took me so far out onto that old dirt road. He had a blue mustang convertible that smelled like old cigarettes and cheap beer. I still remember the night was so clear, there were thousands of stars in the sky,” Victoria said as she looked up toward the heavens. As her voice trailed off, James lifted an arm and put it around her shoulders, holding her close.

  She shivered at the memories. “I was so young. I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him. When he started taking things too far, I told him to stop. He wou
ldn’t. I managed to escape out of the car. Luckily the top was down, and I ran. I ran as fast and hard as I could. But not fast enough. He caught me, tackled me to the ground. He ripped at my clothes. I managed to find a rock and hit him with it, on his head. He bled so much it scared me.” Victoria could still see the blood as if it had just happened. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I just wanted him to stop.”

  “Did you knock him out?”

  “No. But he stopped. He cursed me, hit me.”

  “What happened next?” James encouraged her to continue when she became silent a moment.

  “He drove us straight to his daddy, the sheriff. Said that if I told his dad what he did, he wouldn’t believe me. Eric said if I told anyone, he would come back and finish what he started.”

  “So, what did you do?”

  “I believed Eric’s threats. I knew that Sheriff Randolph would take his son’s side over mine. So I stayed quiet while Eric made up some excuse for his bleeding head. The sheriff threatened to arrest me anyway.” Victoria remembered the smell of the sheriff’s chewing tobacco, remembered the residue of brown goo sliding down his cheek as he leaned in close to her with his threats. “He said that he knew I had hit Eric. He saw my bruised up face too. Said, if I didn’t stay clear of his son, he would make good on his threat to arrest me. After that incident, I stayed away from Eric. He stayed away from me. When the summer was over, I left. The next time I came back, Eric was gone. I think he ended up in jail somewhere. I really don’t know what happened to him. The day he showed up at the dock was the first I’d seen of him since that night.”

  “What about since then? Have you had many boyfriends?”

  “No. I’ve dated some, but nothing serious.”

  “He’s the one you’ve been comparing me to then,” James voiced the truth.

  Victoria winced at his words. Denial first rose to her lips. “I don’t…”

  “Yes you do. You’ve been pushing me away since I first met you. Every time I touch you, you flinch as if I’m going to hurt you, or take advantage of you. Let me tell you something and you’d better listen.” Anger defined his words as he spoke, “I am nothing like Eric, so don’t treat me like him.” James rose to check the steaks, a scowl written on his face.