by Grace Walton
But she had grit, he’d give her that. Magnolia Ferguson had refused to hide. She’d held her head high, ignored the slurs, and gone right back to her classes in Bozeman. Of course, she’d begun to dress in formless baggy dresses in dull colors. And she’d given up riding and any other activities that would require her to wear pants or jeans. Her glorious hair was now always confined to a tight bun that rode low on the nape of her neck. No one would ever again accuse her acting or dressing in a provocative manner.
Not that she ever had. Sheltered Maggie was committed to her faith. She’d been outspoken about her beliefs. Gage had always believed that was what had made her such an easy target. She’d been so naïve, so eager to make friends. She’d no idea of how evil the world could be. That belief in inherent goodness had been forever annihilated because of a stupid, drunken wager.
There were still moments, even with his belief in God that Gage wished he’d killed the man who’d stolen his sister’s innocent life. The only good thing to come of Hollister’s imprisonment was that he’d not heard of Maggie’s misfortune. Even now, no one had the guts to tell the big man what had happened. Gage sighed. He guessed there would be a violent explosion when his business partner learned what had transpired. Chase Brown, the monster who’d hurt Maggie, ought to be glad he was in jail. That was all that was keeping him alive. Because once Hollister knew the truth, there’d be no hiding for the bragging kid who’d thought to make a name for himself by nailing Magnolia Ferguson.
“Maggie, he’s different.”
Her head raised and she looked him squarely in the eye. “He’s no different than any other man,” she said with low bitterness. “If he’d cared at all, it wouldn’t have taken him three years to come back.”
“It’s not like that Mags,” Gage argued.
There was no way he could tell her where Hollister had been. Or about what he’d been doing. That information was ‘need to know’. And even if he had the freedom to tell her, he wouldn’t. Too much was at stake. Too many lives could still be lost. They were so close. Too close to let his agony over his sister’s circumstances ruin what had taken so long to set in place.
And Hollister would feel the same way. There was no way the hard operative would tell Maggie anything. He’d planned to seamlessly take up his job as ranch foreman. He’d do a masterful job of keeping his private life private, just as he’d done so many times in the past. At least that’s what Gage hoped would happen. Of course, Hollister still hadn’t learned about Maggie and her transformation. He hadn’t seen the quiet, forlorn young woman she’d become. And he sure hadn’t been told about the actions that made her who she was now.
“I’ll be civil, you know I will,” she said with a listless shrug.
“Do you want me to tell him what happened to you?”
“Tell Hollister?” she asked with a sarcastic snort. “Doesn’t he know? I thought everyone in the world knew. Surely he’s seen the images…” her voice trailed off in shame.
Gage rolled his shoulders. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have waited and let Hollister handle this. Now he’d said more than he’d meant to and he didn’t know exactly how to respond to her question.
“Tell me what?” asked a deep, tired voice.
They both turned to see him standing on the wide veranda of the house. And, it seemed, he’d overheard some of what they’d said.
Neither Maggie, nor her brother answered Hollister. In truth, they both had very real reasons for ignoring his question. Gage wanted to forestall impending violence. Maggie dreaded seeing him turn from her. As she knew he would, once he learned of her disgrace. She was tainted now. A dirty whisper of scandal would forever follow her, wherever she went. She was that ‘Ferguson Girl’ who was nothing more than a tramp. She’d ruined a good man’s life just because he’d taken her up on what she’d been offering. At least, that’s what was pasted all over every social media site. Chase Brown had friends. Ones who would never believe he hadn’t been railroaded. He hadn’t been. And none of what was posted about Maggie was the truth. But nobody knew that.
They didn’t know because, she’d never said a word in her own defense. She’d been so ashamed. The shame remained with her, even now, years later. Because of it, she hadn’t told anyone what actually happened. She’d refused to testify against Chase Brown, not for his sake but for her own. She felt she deserved what transpired that night. Something about her had turned the young man into an animal. She must have caused it, she told herself. The date had started out so innocently. Just a nice dinner. But then, instead of taking her home after the meal, Brown had driven to a secluded park. He told her what he was going to do to her. He’d ripped at her clothes and laughed when she’d sobbed for him to stop. He’d whipped out his smart phone and told her he was going to make her famous. Then she’d fought him. That had infuriated him. Suddenly taking lurid pictures hadn’t been enough to assuage his lust. He’d hurt her. She was badly beaten. Brown would have killed her, if a policeman making his rounds hadn’t stopped him.
Even so, she couldn’t take the witness stand and accuse him. Maggie thought she was somehow at fault for all that had happened. She didn’t even want to press charges. But Gage had insisted. He’d been livid when he’d arrived at the hospital that night with his wife Carrie. He’d never looked so much like a cold-blooded killer as he had standing over his sister’s hospital bed trying to comfort her. It was a miracle Chase Brown survived to stand trial. Gage had made sure his bail request was denied. She’d overheard her brother telling his wife he knew he’d fall to the temptation to take justice into his own hands if Chase went free.
The girl remained tight-lipped about what had actually happened. But Maggie’s extensive injuries, the cop’s testimony, and Brown’s prior arrests for sexual battery were enough for him to be sentenced to several years in prison.
She’d refused a rape kit at the hospital the night it’d happened. It was her right. Gage didn’t like it. And he’d done a fair amount of yelling to convince her she was making a mistake. He wanted Brown put away forever. But Maggie had her reasons. And she’d never told anyone what they were.
“Tell me what?” Hollister came down the steps of the porch with a noticeable limp.
A knife twisted in Maggie’s heart. He looked bad. The big man was thin and worn down in way she’d never seen before. His natural dark hair was shaggy and long. There was a dark scruff covering his hard jaw. He looked feral and dangerous. His jeans hung from his hips. His old flannel shirt was too big. He’d rolled up the sleeves. She noticed there were sets of parallel new scars on his thick wrists.
“Welcome home,” Maggie said softly.
He scowled at her. “What happened to you?” he demanded.
Maggie shrugged. “I grew up.”
He shook his head. “Don’t lie to me, Blackbird.” His face was a study in ravaged stoicism.
Gage, seeing the flash of agony on his sister’s face, tried to save her. “Maybe now’s not a good time to talk about all this.”
“Shut up, Ferguson,” Hollister growled.
“No, you need to quit pestering her,” Gage barked back.
“It’s alright, Gage,” Maggie said to her brother as she took a brave step closer to the glowering wreck of the man she’d once loved with all her heart. “He asked a fair question. Why don’t you go in the house and ask Carrie to fix us coffee? Will you ask her to take my Red Bean Pie out of the oven?”
“But Maggie,” Gage sputtered.
“Go on,” she ordered. “Hollister and I have some catching up to do.”
Giving up, her brother said, “I’ll give you some privacy then.” His smile to her was sad and kind. But his glare at Hollister was anything but kind. “Don’t hurt her,” he snarled.
After he left, the two remaining were silent for a few awkward minutes. The man examined the girl as if she was another species of human. The young woman did her best to make sure her gaze went anywhere but towards him.
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��What happened to you?” he asked again, this time with a notable wealth of tenderness.
Maggie’s lips trembled. There was no way she was going to tell Hollister anything. If he’d cared about her at all. If he’d even been a friend, he’d have reached out to her. He’d have written her, a simple email from him would have meant the world to her. But he hadn’t done any of those things. She’d not heard from him since the cold morning he’d left. All these years she’d suffered the agonies of the dammed worrying about him. But he hadn’t even lifted a finger to console her when she’d needed him the most.
I guess that tells me a lot about the true state of his regard for me, she thought bitterly. He’d taunted her that long ago morning, about her immaturity and about her lack of sophistication. That was partly why she’d agreed to go out with Chase Brown. She’d thought to acquire some of that bronze Hollister had spoken of. Dating a popular college senior was surely the way to gain social experience. Or so she’d mistakenly thought.
“Why are you dressed like that?” he demanded.
“Like what?” she responded. She carefully smoothed down the full gray skirt of the ugly jumper.
“The scarecrow in the kitchen garden is better dressed than you.”
His remark was rough and cutting. Even he heard the slur as it poured from his lips. He was instantly sorry when he saw her involuntary flinch. It was obvious she wasn’t the only one who had changed.
Maggie bit nervously at her lower lip. She was very wary of men now, especially angry men. And, for some reason, Hollister looked furious.
“I’m dressed modestly,” she said in a noncommittal way.
He snorted in disdain and walked closer. Her rapid step back brought him up short. He could be intimidating. He knew he could. And he’d used that kind of fear over the years to his benefit. But he’d never raised a hand to a woman. And he never would. She knew him. Surely she knew that he was no threat to her. So why would Maggie be afraid of him? Had his harsh treatment of her, when he’d left, harmed her so badly? He’d intended to make her hate him. But had he damaged her self-esteem in the process?
“Blackbird, talk to me,” he cajoled with a beseeching hand held out to her.
She flinched again and edged further out of his reach. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about,” she mumbled and looked down at the ground.
“Blackbird…” His words were a gentle chastisement.
Maggie’s head whipped up. “Don’t call me that. I’m not that stupid little girl anymore.”
In her eyes he saw brokenness and tragedy. And he recognized something he’d seen in the bereft gaze of female victims the world over. His spine turned to steel and his hands balled into fists.
“Who is he?” he ground out.
“What?” she asked confused. If she’d thought Hollister was dangerous before, it was nothing compared to the killing look of him now.
“Who is the man who hurt you? Has Gage already killed him?” There was a murderous glitter in his pale golden eyes.
“What? Are you insane?” she gasped.
Suddenly she knew. She knew he’d not known anything about her attack. That eased a bit of the ache in her heart.
“Is he dead? Tell me, Blackbird. I promise you I’ll make sure he dies hard for what he did to you.”
“Hollister, no.” She forgot her fear. She grabbed one of his rock-hard fists and brought it up to her cheek. She rubbed his knuckles over the satin of her skin.
A great shudder ran down the length of his big body. “I swear, I’ll make this right,” his words were a tortured rasp.
Maggie reached up and took his face in her shaking hands. “It’s alright. It was a long, long time ago. I’m better. Truly I am.”
She’d meant the calm words as solace. Instead they infuriated the man.
“This is better?” he asked incredulously as he pulled away from her. “I’ve seen nuns who show more skin. This modest dress of yours is nothing more than some kind of twisted camouflage. You’re hiding. And you’re afraid, of me, Blackbird. How can you be afraid of me?”
“I’m not,” she chided hoping to still not only the racing of her heart, but his relentless inquisition. “I’m not hiding. I’ve just learned to curb some of the more…colorful and reckless aspects of my personality. That’s all,” she lied. “I truly have grown up, Hollister.”
“You were never reckless,” he argued.
“Yes I was, you know I was,” she answered with a rueful smile.
“You aren’t going to tell me the truth, are you?”
She had the grace to look away. It would be too hard to be evasive if she was looking into those mesmerizing eyes of his. “It’s not truly lying when someone just wants to keep some things private.”
“Just tell me he’s dead,” Hollister said bleakly. “Just give me the satisfaction that he can’t hurt you anymore. Just give me that much, Blackbird.”
“There is no ‘he’”, the troubled girl said as she crossed her fingers behind her back. “And I’m as safe as I’ve always been. Safer, now that you’re back at the ranch.”
“That’s a non-answer.”
“It’s an answer,” she replied. “And the only one you’re going to get. Don’t nose around in matters that don’t concern you, Hollister.”
“Everything about you concerns me,” he argued.
Maggie shook her head sadly. “Nothing about me concerns you. And we both know that to be true. If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have said the awful things you did and then disappeared for three years.”
“I never meant to hurt you,” he beseeched, though he’d known her pain would be a by-product of his decision to put some distance, physically and emotionally, between them.
Maggie shrugged. She bent to pick up her garden basket. “I don’t hold you responsible, Hollister. I was an infatuated child. Isn’t that what you called me? I needed to grow up, just like you said. And I did. I grew up and I’m older and wiser now. Wise enough to stay away from men, especially men like you.” She went across the yard and up the steps without another word.
The big man watched her go. The change in Maggie was painful to see. He was sure, even though she claimed otherwise that something had happened to her. Or more rightly, something had been done to transform her into this buttoned-down matronly looking young woman. Maybe her brother would tell him.
With that in mind, Hollister started towards the barn. Nothing much had changed on the Black Knife spread since he’d been gone. It was amazing to think that his life could have been so radically altered when everything remained so ordinary and normal here. He shuddered as a sharp memory of pain and shame washed over him. At least he knew Gage would keep his secrets. That man could be a tomb when he had to be.
And never had Hollister been more grateful for his friend’s discretion. Unfortunately that close-mouthed stance was going to make it difficult for him to find out anything about Maggie’s situation. Because her older brother was just as fiercely loyal to his family as he was to his friends and colleagues.
Social media was not Hollister’s way either. Too much of what was out on the internet was fiction. And those so-called community sites were really mostly vehicles for marketing, celebrity building, and scandal mongering. The dark web was another matter altogether. And he might tap into what he knew about ferreting out information there. But he’d give a shot at speaking to Gage first.
As he neared the rambling barn, Hollister heard two of the hands talking. They were tossing hay into each stall and grumbling. Of course, their conversation was liberally sprinkled with every kind of obscenity. It was range talk at its very worst. He started to direct them to moderate their speech, at least while they were within earshot of the big house. But when he heard Maggie’s name mentioned, he stopped.
He didn’t like the low nasty laughter that accompanied whatever they were saying about her. And he liked even less the crude gesture one of the men made towards his groin to punctuate the story he was telling.
“Yeah, that Miss Magnolia is one hot little piece,” the man said rocking his hips back and forth in the most obscene way imaginable. “She’s hot for it, make no mistake. I’m just biding my time until I can make my move. I’ve seen how she looks at me. You just wait. Once I catch her alone, we’ll have us a mighty fine time together. What I’ll do to her will make what she had with that rodeo jock look like nothing.”
You best be careful,” the other man cautioned. “I heard that boy, that Chase Brown, got put away for years just for taking a taste of what was offered.”
“Naw, it wasn’t that,” the first cowboy argued. “If that cop hadn’t caught them doing the dirty deed in that parked car, nothing would have come of it. Everybody here-abouts knows the Boss’s sister is free and easy when it comes to sex.”
“You trying to tell me it was all on the Boss? The trial, the prison sentence, the whole thing?” asked the other man.
“Of course it was,” snorted the other hand. “He didn’t want no talk. Not about his precious family. Don’t you wonder why she dresses like an old lady and never gets two feet from the front porch no more?”
“So the Boss is the cause of all that?”
“Course he is,” the man said with a grunt as he hefted a bale of hay up on his shoulder. “I’d do the same if one of my women folk was running wild. He’s got her on a real tight lead line. But I seen the look in her eye. That filly is ready to break away from that old rope.”
The other cowboy laughed sarcastically. “And you figure to be the man who’s waiting there to catch her.”
“I sure do,” the first hand crowed. His next words were dirty and full of innuendo. “I aim to break that filly to ride. When I’m done with her, Miss Magnolia Ferguson will do everything but roll over and fetch, if I say so. I might even marry her. If she gets real good in the sack.”