by B. J Daniels
He had been nothing like that ultraexpensive lawyer she’d seen stalking across the commons of his office high-rise with a crowd of reporters after him.
No, for a moment in the jail, she’d been fooled into thinking she was wrong about the cutthroat divorce lawyer turned cowboy—until he opened his mouth.
Only then did she know she had the right man.
She kept her attention on the road—what she could see of it—and the blizzard raging outside the pickup, wishing there was another way.
VIOLET EVANS ALWAYS KNEW SHE’D come home one day. She’d thought about nothing but Whitehorse since she’d been locked up.
True, she had planned to come home vindicated. Or at least have everyone believe she was cured. But that hadn’t happened.
In the passenger seat of the stolen SUV, Roberta began to snore loudly.
Violet knew everyone in four counties was looking for her. She’d become famous. Or infamous. Either way, she liked the idea of her name on everyone’s lips. They’d all be locking their doors tonight.
She smiled at the thought, imagining the people who’d wronged her over the years. They would be terrified until she was caught. Once, they’d just made fun of her. But now they would have new respect for her.
Still, it bothered her that they all thought something was wrong with her. No wonder they’d been quick to send her away to a mental hospital after that unfortunate incident with her mother. How different things would have been if they had believed her when she’d tried to explain why she’d tried to kill her mother that day.
She shoved away the disturbing images from the past. But one thought lingered. If Arlene loved her…If she’d saved her from her awful grandmother…If she’d tried to help her with the scary thoughts in her head…
A mother is supposed to save you. Arlene Evans had failed to save her oldest daughter, so what right did Arlene have to get married and be happy?
“No right at all,” Violet’s dead grandmother said from the backseat. “Her idea of saving you had been to marry you off.”
Violet thought of the humiliation and embarrassment when no man had wanted her—and worse, the disappointment she’d seen in her mother’s face.
“If Arlene hadn’t tricked my son Floyd into marrying her and had you three kids—”
“Can you just shut up?” Violet said, wishing she could cover her ears. She’d heard this from her grandmother since she was a girl. Grandmother always causing trouble, stirring things up between them, then standing back and saying, “See? See what I mean about this family?”
Roberta stirred in the passenger seat. “What’s going on?” She glanced in the backseat, then at Violet, frowning. “You aren’t talking to your dead grandmother again, right?”
“I was talking to myself. I need you to run a little errand for me,” Violet told her as she parked near Packys, a convenience store on the edge of town.
She had skirted Whitehorse, which wasn’t difficult since the town was only ten blocks square and she knew all the back roads.
The first thing she needed to do, though, was find out everything she could about her mother’s upcoming Christmas wedding. It wasn’t like she’d gotten an invitation.
“You’re going to run in and get me the local newspaper and the shopper—those are the area bibles when it comes to what’s going on,” Violet told her.
Roberta groaned and complained, but finally got out and went in. She was wearing a pair of blue overalls and a flannel shirt and looked enough like a local that she shouldn’t have any trouble, Violet figured.
Getting a change of clothing had been easy since Violet knew which residents would be gone this time of year and which ones locked their doors. They’d tossed out the Santa costumes after tossing out Dede Chamberlain.
It had amused Roberta to dump Dede on the main street of Whitehorse wearing the Santa suit.
When Roberta returned from inside the convenience store with the newspaper and free shopper, Violet drove down the street the few blocks past town. She pulled over in front of Promises bookstore, gift shop and antique store—closed now—and took the papers from Roberta.
Snapping on the dome light, she scanned for what she knew had to be there. Whitehorse, Montana, was so small that weddings, baby and wedding showers, and birthday parties were advertised in the paper and open to everyone. Her grandmother had already said that Arlene would invite the whole town to show off the fact that she’d caught another man.
To her dismay, Violet didn’t find anything about the wedding and was about to give up when she saw the wedding shower announcement.
There was no address as to where the shower was being held, since it was unnecessary. Instead all that was listed was the name of the person who was hosting the get-together. Pearl Cavanaugh. If you didn’t know where the Cavanaughs lived, then you had no business at the shower.
“What the hell?” Violet said, thinking she must have read it wrong. “Pearl Cavanaugh is throwing a shower this afternoon for my mother? This has to be a misprint.”
“I thought you said nobody in town liked your mother.”
Violet shot Roberta a look that shut her up. Maybe it was a pity shower. Still, it seemed odd. Violet couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that everything had changed since she’d been gone.
She read it again and noticed something she hadn’t seen before. It said in case of bad weather, the shower would be held at the Tin Cup, the restaurant out of town on the golf course.
Violet had heard about the winter-storm warning on the radio. She couldn’t imagine worse weather.
Her thoughts returned to her mother and the shower. It was amazing enough that her mother had found another man when Violet hadn’t even found one. And he was a man with money, from what she’d heard. She consoled herself with the assurance that Hank Monroe couldn’t be much of a man.
“So, are we going to your mother’s shower?” Roberta asked, reading over her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But first there’s somewhere we have to go.”
ARLENE TOUCHED THE WEDDING dress hanging from her closet door.
She felt like Cinderella about to go to the ball. She closed the closet door as the phone rang. All morning she’d feared that Pearl would cancel the shower. After all, with this storm coming in…“Hello?”
“Hi, beautiful.”
She melted at the sound of Hank’s voice. That she’d been given a second chance was such a blessing. He’d changed her. Not that she didn’t have a long way to go.
She still had to bite her tongue not to gossip or have uncharitable thoughts. Hank laughed at her attempts to be the perfect woman.
“Arlene, I love you exactly as you are.” That alone amazed her. But she wanted to be better for Hank. His love had already made her a better person.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Hank said now.
“No, I was up admiring my wedding dress.” Hank had bought it for her, saying she deserved her dream wedding. She and Floyd, her first husband and the father of her children, had gotten married by the justice of the peace. A shotgun wedding because she’d been pregnant with her first born, Violet.
Looking back, it was clear Floyd had never wanted the children. Nor did he care about them even now. He hadn’t even been to see his own grandson.
Arlene was so thankful that Hank loved the baby and had gone out of his way to help her daughter Charlotte and son-in-law, Lucas, make a home for their son.
“Then you haven’t seen the news,” Hank said, dragging her from her thoughts.
Arlene felt her heart drop. “No, why?” Her first thought was that the shower was cancelled. But from the sound of Hank’s voice, she knew it was more serious than that.
Her worry intensified. Instinctively she knew it must have something to do with Bo. In the past, most news, especially bad news, was often about her son, Bo. But Bo was gone.
She still couldn’t believe what he’d done to bring about his own death. For month
s now, she’d mourned his loss, knowing she had failed him by spoiling him, just as she’d failed her daughter Violet by not spoiling her enough.
“Honey, it’s Violet. She’s escaped from the state institution. There were three of them. One has already been caught, so I’m sure—”
“Ohh.” She sat down hard in the middle of the floor, the phone clutched in her hand. “Violet?”
Her oldest daughter. The culmination of all her mistakes as a mother. Hank kept assuring her that she hadn’t made Violet what she’d become. That there had been something wrong with Violet, something genetic. Just as she couldn’t blame herself for the way Bo had turned out after growing up without a father present.
Arlene couldn’t help but feel that if she’d been a better mother, if she’d insisted Floyd take more of a part in raising the kids, if she’d been able to stand up to Floyd’s horrible mother and not let that old woman near her kids…
“I want you to come stay with me until Violet is caught,” Hank was saying.
Caught? How was it possible to raise a child that would one day have to be caught like a rabid dog?
“Hank, what about Charlotte and the baby?” Little Luke was a year old now, but still Arlene thought of him as a baby.
“Violet won’t hurt her sister or her nephew, and Lucas will be home from his ranch job up north. You don’t have to worry about them.”
“You don’t know what Violet’s like. She’s so angry. She blames everyone for her unhappiness.” She realized she was crying.
“If you’re that worried, I’ll have Lucas, Charlotte and Luke move in here with us. There’s plenty of room.”
Arlene felt sick. “You know why she escaped now, right before the wedding. She—”
“I won’t let her stop the wedding.”
She loved Hank more than life and knew how capable he was of taking care of her. But he didn’t know Violet and what she was capable of. Arlene did. “Maybe we should put off the wedding.”
“No,” Hank said. “If she isn’t caught before the wedding, then I’ll see that security is stepped up. I just want to make sure that you’re safe until then. I’ll be down to pick you up. Pack just what you need until the wedding. Has the storm hit there yet? It’s snowing really hard up here. I think it’s moving south in your direction, so bundle up.”
“Hank—”
“Arlene, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m on my way there now.” He hung up.
Not that it would have made a difference to argue with him. She knew she couldn’t talk him out of it, and maybe it would be best if she and Violet didn’t cross paths right now. If Violet was upset about the wedding, there was no telling what she might do.
Arlene prayed that one day Violet could get well and live a normal life. But if she kept getting into trouble, she would never be released.
Going into the living room, Arlene walked over to the drapes and drew them back so she could look across the prairie as the sun crested the horizon—just as she had done for almost forty years.
AS DEDE DROVE THROUGH THE swirling snow, Lantry realized they were following the brunt of the storm south. The wind had kicked up, the temperature on the thermometer between the visors showing five below zero. He could no longer tell if it was snowing or if the snow in the air was being kicked up by the wind.
He hadn’t seen a light for miles, and the secondary road she’d taken was getting progressively worse. The pickup was bucking drifts. If it wasn’t for catching sight of the top of an occasional fence post on each side of the barrow pit along the narrow, unpaved road, he would have doubted they were even still on a road.
“I’m curious,” Dede said, breaking the silence. “What made you become a divorce lawyer?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t you feel guilty taking advantage of two devastated people who are fighting for their lives?”
He growled under his breath, but settled back into the seat. “Don’t you mean trying to kill each other over their assets? Not exactly their lives.”
She shot him a scowl.
“Watch the road!” he said as the pickup hit a drift, snow cascading over the windshield.
“You’ve never been married, have you?” she said as visibility improved a little. “So you don’t know what it’s like to get divorced.”
“Do we have to talk about this now? You really should be keeping your attention on the road.” She had shifted into four-wheel low, the pickup slowly plowing its way through the snow. All he could figure was that she planned to cut across to Highway 191 once she was far enough south.
“Divorce is heartbreaking—even if you’re the one who wants out of the marriage,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken. “When you get married, you have all these hopes and dreams—”
“Oh, please,” Lantry snapped. “You married Frank because he was rich and powerful.”
The moment the words were out, he regretted them—and not just because she touched the gun resting between her thighs. He had seen the wounded look on her face. He didn’t want to be cruel, but he also couldn’t take much more of this.
“I married Frank because I loved him,” she said quietly.
“My mistake.” He was glad when she put both hands back on the wheel.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t believe in love,” Dede said, still sounding hurt.
Lantry warned himself to treat this woman with kid gloves. Who knew what she’d do next? And yet, she was so annoying. This whole situation was damned infuriating.
“It isn’t love I don’t believe in, it’s marriage,” he said into the hurt silence that had filled the pickup cab. “Any reasonable person who’s seen the statistics would think twice before getting married, except that people in love always think they’re going to be the ones who make it.”
“But if you never gamble on love—”
“Marriage isn’t a gamble. It’s like playing Russian roulette with all but one of the chambers full of lead. Do you realize how many marriages end in divorce? Fifty percent of first marriages, sixty-seven percent of second marriages and seventy-four percent of third marriages.”
“Have you always been this pessimistic?”
“Statistics don’t lie,” he said. “Most first marriages end after seven years. So do second marriages. Only thirty-three percent reach their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Half of all married people never reach their fifteenth anniversary. Only five percent make fifty years.”
“I believed I was in that five percent.”
“Even after what you’d been through?” He looked over at her as if she’d lost her mind, then remembered she had. “You thought Frank was the right person, which proves how blind love is. That’s the reason why I am never getting married. My life is much safer without a spouse, and so are my assets.”
She shot him a sympathetic look. “That’s pitiful.”
“I consider it intelligent.”
“I still believe in marriage,” she said stubbornly. “I’ve always loved those stories about married couples who die of old age within days of each other because the spouse can’t stand to let the other one go without him or her.”
He stared at her profile in the dash lights. “I’m astounded after your marriage to Frank that you can still wax romantic about marriage.”
“When he put that gold band on my finger, I planned to wear it to my deathbed, the ring wearing thinner and thinner with the years.” She shook her head. “I was wrong. But that doesn’t mean that the institution of marriage is doomed.”
He couldn’t believe her, given what Frank had put her through. She actually had tears in her eyes.
“Come on, tell the truth. You pawned your engagement and wedding ring as quick as you could after the divorce without a second thought.”
“I never even considered the monetary value.”
“So where’re the rings?” He saw her expression and burst out laughing. “You did pawn them.”
“I had to use the rings to
get out of the mental hospital in Texas. It was all I had to offer at the time.” She glanced over at him, then back at the road. “Why can’t you believe that I loved Frank?”
That was the problem. He did believe it. What amazed him more than anything was that she still loved the man.
THROUGH THE FALLING AND BLOWING snow Violet could barely make out Old Town Whitehorse. The wind whipped the fallen snow into sculpted drifts, and the air outside the stolen SUV had an icy-cold weight to it that made it hard to breathe.
Violet cut the engine and stared down the hill at her mother’s house. The day had turned bright with the earlier dawn and the falling snow.
“I don’t understand what we’re doing here,” Roberta said. “Aren’t the roads going to blow in? Maybe we should find some place to stay for a while.”
“I’m going down to my house to get us some warmer clothes, food and money.”
“What if your mother is home?” Roberta asked. “Maybe it’s a trap.”
That was the problem with hanging out with a schizophrenic.
Violet watched a large SUV pull into the drive. She picked up the binoculars she’d stolen along with clothing from one of the houses they’d visited earlier.
She watched a large man climb out and go into the house. A few minutes later, he came out with a suitcase, went back in and came out with a long garment bag and carefully put that into the backseat. Her mother’s wedding gown?
A few moments later, her mother came out. She saw Arlene look around as if she knew Violet was close by. Maybe her mother knew her better than she’d thought.
Arlene seemed to hesitate as if she didn’t want to leave. Finally, she got into the SUV and the two drove away. Violet had seen the man driving. The fiancé, no doubt. He looked…nice. Bigger and better looking than she’d expected.
Violet started to get out.