Small Town Angel

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Oh God, not another one,” he turned on the prone woman in an exasperated voice, dropping his hold on Amy’s arm.

  Abby didn’t look put out by this at all; in fact she smiled at Amy, pleased to see her. Amy however was startled at the man having laid hands on her.

  “Yes, another one,” Amy said in a chirpy voice. “I’m Amy Adams and you are?”

  “We are Abigail’s parents,” was the tight lipped response from the woman.

  “I figured,” she answered in a tone that would have melted butter, only Abby saw the glint in the southern belle’s eye. “Well bless your heart,” she smiled disarmingly, only Abby knew what was meant by that little phrase.

  “Adams, Adams,” her father stated musingly. “Aren’t you the reason my daughter is here?”

  Amy glanced at Abby and saw she didn’t hold it against her. So she turned to the father. “Yes sir and lucky for me that Abby came in when she did. I’d have been killed for shore,” she drawled. “Your daughter is not only brave but a hero.”

  He wasn’t sure how to take that. He had expected excuses or hostility, not compliments. He looked at her suspiciously as she spoke.

  “How are you darlin’?” she asked Abby concernedly.

  “I hurt,” she grinned to show she didn’t mind. She was just so grateful to see Amy alive and well, if taking a bullet for her was what it took, that was the least she could do, but it did hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “I imagine so,” she smiled in return, leaning down to kiss Abby on the lips. They were cold and dry. Amy pulled a tube of lip balm from her purse. “May I?” she asked before applying.

  Abby enjoyed the pampering but she could see her parents were uncomfortable by these signs of affection. She was often puzzled that she was the product of these two who never showed any fondness towards each other over the years. Then she remembered her grandparents had enjoyed each other until the end. It was something else that she and Amy had in common, grandparents who had loved them unconditionally. “How are the kids?” she asked to make conversation, not that she didn’t worry how this was affecting them. Losing one parent was bad enough…

  “They are doing well. Had a fight to get them off to school but I promised I’d bring ‘em back this afternoon,” she explained.

  “That’s good, everything work out okay? No one will tell me what happened after I passed out.”

  “Now, you don’t worry a thing about it. Except for the mess at the cabin I’m certain they would have told you if it was something you needed to know.”

  “Not you too!” Abby protested weakly. She wanted details!

  “I think we’ll take the children with us this afternoon when we leave,” Abby’s mother spoke up.

  “What?” Abby protested trying to get up out of the bed angrily.

  Amy stood up from where she was bending over Abby and firmly shoved her back to the bed. Much smaller than her partner she was amazingly strong and Abby didn’t call her a spitfire for nothing. She turned to face Abby’s parents. “I think the children are fine under my care until their mother,” she gestured at Abby. “Can return home to care for them herself.”

  “Well family should…: she tried again.

  “Yes, family should,” Amy emphasized. “Since the children don’t know you and you haven’t bothered to visit them, at least in the time I have been here, they should stay in the family they know.”

  Abby’s mother flushed unbecomingly. She didn’t have Abby’s looks but there was something about her eyes that reminded Amy of Abby. Abby was dark like her father.

  “Look Mom, I appreciate the gesture,” Abby sounded almost as though she meant it. “But the kids don’t know you. They are better with Amy.”

  “Well if you’re sure,” she said, unsure herself. The children should be with family, but she never considered them her grandchildren since they weren’t born to Abby. The right thing to do though…after all, Abby had adopted them…

  “Just leave them alone, they are probably upset enough by this,” Abby pointed out and glanced at Amy who was looking at her intently. “How are you holding out?”

  “I’m fine,” Amy responded automatically, withdrawing into the same quiet woman who didn’t talk about herself, especially among strangers.

  Abby understood but it hurt a bit to see it again. She glanced at her parents, wondering why they had even come. Then she realized how it would look to others if they hadn’t. She also wondered how long they would stay around since it was obvious they were both uncomfortable.

  Amy turned and looked at Abby’s parents. Without thinking twice she opened her mouth, “Why don’t you all come by the store later and meet the children before I bring them here to visit their Mom?”

  “The store?” Mr. Shipman asked.

  Amy narrowed her eyes slightly. She knew he had to of known about the store, the fire, everything by now if he was keeping an eye on his daughter. She didn’t let on though. “Oh yes, I own The Emporium in Northpoint. Come on in and see what we did to your parent’s store,” she offered sweetly. “The children will come there after school. It will give you a chance to meet them. Perhaps another time you can come out to the cabin and we can all have dinner together.”

  Abby nearly choked at the saccharine sweetness of Amy, but at least someone was trying in this awkward situation.

  “That would be…nice,” Mrs. Shipman answered weakly, clearly put out by the genuine sound of Amy’s offer.

  “Well that’s settled, ya’ll stop by The Emporium before you leave?” Amy asked, a genuine request for them to leave.

  “That sounds nice,” Mrs. Shipman answered, again sounding as though she wasn’t sure what had just happened.

  “We’ll be there,” Mr. Shipman answered abruptly. He realized they had been out-maneuvered by someone with much better manners than they.

  Amy smiled as they made their awkward goodbyes to their daughter and left the room.

  “That was very clever of you,” Abby said with a grin from her hospital bed.

  “What?” Amy asked with every bit of innocence in her tone. Then she laughed to show that she knew very well what she had done.

  “How are you? Really?” Abby asked reaching for her hand.

  Amy was just thrilled that Abby was okay and going to recover. That she didn’t hold any ill will over the troubles she had brought into her life was just a bonus. “I’m fine,” she repeated her earlier statement, then seeing Abby was going to be stubborn about this she started to explain. “They wouldn’t let me go with you when they took you away in the ambulance.” She brushed back a stray hair on Abby’s forehead affectionately. “You looked so pale. The kids were upset and they questioned me for too long,” she complained. “I didn’t know much but what had happened. They were looking for something more than I could give them.”

  “That’s because we had to make sure you were telling the truth,” a voice said from the doorway and Federal Agent Brad Pine came into the room.

  “Great, now I get to be grilled by you?” Abby complained. She hoped they would get done soon; she was exhausted by her parent’s visit.

  “Just a few questions, if you two don’t mind?” he asked but it sounded rhetorical.

  They both shrugged as he began to verify the facts of the previous evening, from Amy being left with the ‘workmen’ who turned out to be her brother and brother-in-law. How her brother lunged at her and fell down the hole and how she shot her brother-in-law with the nail gun. “Good shot by the way,” the agent said off the record before continuing. “Did you think your brother was dead in the basement?” he asked as he consulted his notes.

  “I just heard the sound of him landing, I didn’t look,” she told him; her hand was grasping Abby’s almost painfully going over this again. She’d done it several times in her mind over the time since then. She hated reliving it.

  He consulted his notes again. “They think he broke his neck with the fall,” he commented idly to see her reaction.

&nbs
p; “Then how was he able to climb the steps and shoot Abby?” she asked, feeling like they were trying to trip her up.

  “It was a crack, tripping over the dog and down the front steps finished him,” he informed her and looked up to see her anguish over it, she seemed genuinely upset and that told him far more than her statements the night before. She wasn’t a killer; they weren’t going to charge her for killing anyone, not even with a nail gun. It had clearly been self-defense and they would tell a judge this so no charges would be brought against her. He went on to apologize for the mess at the cabin and informed her a cleaning crew would be brought in before they would allow Terry back in to finish up the work on the addition. By the time he left, Abby and Amy both were exhausted.

  “I’m going to let you get some sleep,” Amy excused herself soon afterwards.

  “I don’t want you to go,” Abby said selfishly. She knew how exhausted she was though and yawned mightily. “I’m sorry this happened,” she said as she began to drift off.

  “I’m grateful you were there and are here,” Amy said gently.

  * * * * *

  The whole town practically visited Abby during the length of her stay. The Shipman’s stayed overnight at Sarah Katzenburgers inn, The Duck and Swan. Apparently almost losing their own daughter had awoken some parental feelings and they did want to know their adopted grandchildren better. Abby was certain it was the guilt trips that Amy heaped on them under the guise of being sweet and innocent.

  Abby was at first resentful of the intrusion of her parents in her life but as Amy pulled a guilt-trip on her too she realized that they were her only parents and wouldn’t be around forever. Besides they lived far enough away that they would never be intrusive. Her father even seemed to resign himself that she would always love women and Amy wasn’t too bad a choice in that.

  Abby wasn’t too thrilled that the town, her parents, and especially Amy were firm about her recovery. She wasn’t allowed to do anything and was on leave from the police force, small as it was. Amy made her sit on the porch outside the store, wrapped up in blankets when it got cold, and then made her sit inside near the fire when she felt she got enough fresh air. The pampering was sweet, and genuine. Abby marveled at how much she was willing to put up with from this little redhead who bossed her and others around her so effortlessly.

  Amy was not happy to have the lawyer from Lousiana show up on her doorstep but as the sole heir to both the Adams and Sleuter fortunes he had a mound of paperwork to work through. At first she was tempted to donate it all but cooler heads, including Amy’s own, prevailed. She realized what she could do with the money.

  “You know I wanted to help pay for the building of the dance hall,” Abby admonished her after she saw Terry starting to lay out the concrete base. It was too shallow to dig a basement in this area of the point and they were lucky to even have a small basement for The Emporium.

  “I know, but I have this need to prove myself,” she explained, hoping she hadn’t hurt Abby’s feelings.

  “You realize people will think I made you pay for it yourself?”

  “Not at all, I’m hoping they will see my vision and besides, you are my partner in this since you wouldn’t take any money for the lot,” she pointed out.

  “Partner eh?” Abby asked, they had both thrown that word out a few times, testing it out.

  Amy turned from watching at the window of The Emporium where Terry and his crew were laying out lines for a concrete pour. It was too cold really but they would have a break before winter poured down the tons of snow and cold that the Farmer’s Almanac predicted this year. “Yes, you are my partner and someday, when it’s legal here, maybe my wife?” she asked softly.

  “Are you sure?” Abby asked incredulously.

  Amy moved into her arms. “I was sure when you didn’t leave me for lying by omission. I was sure when you took a bullet for me. I was sure when I realized you loved me as much as I love you.”

  Holding her tightly, despite the possible audience in The Emporium, pleased with what she had just heard Abby smiled down at her and said, “We can make it legal without the state approving.”

  Amy smiled but shook her head. “I’m in no hurry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “No, no you’re not. You’re mine,” Abby said, her arms convulsing to hold her tighter.

  “Yours eh?” Amy smiled up at the taller woman.

  “You’re my Angel.”

  ~FINISH~

  If you have enjoyed SMALL TOWN ANGEL you’ll look forward to a sample of K’Anne Meinel’s splendid and unforgettable novel:

  Blown Away

  In print and E-book and available at fine retailers.

  Two different covers, same GREAT story!

  Chapter One

  REMEMBRANCES

  She stared at the ruins of a once beautiful farm house and memories came, flashing back in an instant yet spanning years. Over there once stood a beautiful pair of oak trees with a swing between them for her to play on. She could still hear the echoes of her mother telling her to be careful as she climbed them. Skinned knees and scraped palms; she never complained over the slivers her mother had to remove from her tomboyish activities. Their shade provided her endless hours of escape from the relentless sun and still she would burn from it. The wind would part the leaves and the sun would beat down between them. Her imagination could play for hours as she gazed up through them, envisioning them as towering giants and she a mere mortal. She loved those trees.

  “I can’t believe you climb like a monkey, and in a dress too!” her mother would scold. She remembered that fondly, the inflections, the lilt in her voice was still in her consciousness despite the span of years.

  The house still tilted haphazardly. Weather and time hadn’t pulled it to the ground and for this she was surprised as she stared at its sturdy build. Her great-grandparents had been among the first to build in this area and had used good wood and stone to construct their sturdy home. Their son and granddaughter had both raised families in this house. She scowled as she remembered she had been the last raised in this house.

  It look well picked over. The weeds around the place were elbow high and although she hadn’t seen it in over twenty years, she couldn’t help but wonder why it hadn’t been torn down before; which was why she was now here.

  “Ms. Avril?” a voice asked her respectfully and she started in surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. “Oh, I’m sorry miss, I was expecting…” he began apologizing.

  “It’s okay, you just startled me,” she said in precise and clear tones, not a hint of the accent that was unique to this part of the country and so apparent in his voice. That accent brought back other memories. Ones she’d tried to quash and couldn’t. Ones that she’d known needed exorcising, and that could only be done by coming here. It was why she had come herself. She needed to stop the dreams that had returned. Her feeling was that it was in the past and it should remain there. Her psyche though was haunting her and she had to face it, one last time.

  “I was expecting Ms. Avril,” he began again, and peered at her intently and wondering who she was. He was shorter than she, his skin brown from the winds that blew here; he was stooped from a lifetime of work.

  She smiled, not realizing the beauty that was apparent in her face. Her pale white skin hid the freckles that came out in the sun, but no tan touched her creamy milk white skin anymore. “I’m A…Avril,” she answered hesitating over the name for only a millisecond. ‘Or, I was,’ she mentally corrected herself, but not aloud, he wouldn’t understand.

  “You’re Ms. Avril?” he asked puzzled. He peered at her for a long time shaking his head, trying to see some semblance of the youth he had known. As her smile faded, he saw a glimmer of recognition. Not of her but of her mother and that was when he took on a relieved look. His hat came off his head in an instant and his weathered face wreathed a smile showing several missing teeth. “Why Ms. Avril, you’ve all growed up!” he drawled, pleased at his discov
ery.

  “How are you, Mr. Davidson?” she asked pleasantly. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes though. Not with the memories pushing at her temples wanting her to remember, to relive them; all the while she was trying hard to once again suppress them.

  “Poorly,” he said honestly. “Right poorly, but I aim to do the job you is needing done. I shorely do. Just like I promised.” He gestured to the truck that was parked at the end of the drive. On the trailer attached to it sat a front end loader, securely chained to its bed.

  She glanced at it, then back at the house he had come to demolish. It was the town’s attempt at getting rid of an ‘eyesore’ that had sat there empty for over two decades. Why they had decided that it needed to be done now, she didn’t know. But she was here, as requested, to get it done. Mr. Davidson had answered her call, surprised that she remembered him. He was eager to earn the money she had promised him for the job.

  “Do you want to go through the house to look for anything?” he asked, as he noticed her silently staring at the house.

  She shook her head. She had done her picking long ago, her few belongings in a few measly boxes and trunks, and a storage unit she had come to go through as well, a lifetime of memories and knick knacks that meant nothing to anyone but herself. “Just bulldoze it,” she said shortly, wanting it taken care of so she could leave.

  “You’ll have to move your car,” he mentioned, as they turned to head back down the driveway.

  She glanced at the Maserati and nearly laughed aloud at the contrast between it and his old rusted out Chevy. She hadn’t thought of that when she decided to drive back here. If she hadn’t before, she would surely stick out like a sore thumb now. Another reason to get the job finished and get out, get gone. Something she had done years ago and not looked back. She glanced over at the barns and silos. They still looked as solid as the day her great-grandparents and grandparents had built them. Nothing had touched them, not time, nor weather, they seemed to be as strong and steady as the day they were built. They could use a little paint, but with the weather that came through this part of the country it was amazing they were still standing. She could see they were used well by the tracks that led from the path up to them and down the driveway, but that was all. Everything else was abandoned, the chicken coop, and a few other outbuildings. The grass overgrown and obviously untrodden, no animals or people to grind it under their heels.