by Sable Hunter
“What?” All three people said the same word at the same time. Derek knew then, they probably seldom read anything more challenging than a cereal box.
“Mein Kampf was the book that influenced Adolph Hitler, and Salmon Rushdie’s book earned him death threats when the Ayatollah Khomeini called for his assassination.”
“Huh, never heard of those.”
Derek finally bothered to read the young clerk’s name. “Norman, I can’t say I’m surprised. So, what kind of dirty books does Ms. St. John write? About pedophilia? Bestiality? Necrophilia?”
Three more blank looks.
“No, she writes romance novels,” the girl admitted.
“Oh. Love stories.” Derek nodded, thinking For God’s sake.
“Yea.” The old man finally spoke up. “She makes me sick. She pretended to be so good. So upstanding. Always working in the church and the community. And all the time, what was she doing? Writing those books in secret. Using a stupid penname. Making up shit to sell to unsuspecting decent folks.”
Norman thumped his chest. “We showed her. We did.”
“Sounds like it.” Derek was furious. “I’ve come after that faucet she tried to pick up. You two want to give it to me?”
“You…know her?” Norman’s expression was a mix of horror and envy.
“Yea, I’m doing a little work at her house.” The manager left the room and came back with a box, setting it on the counter.” Derek gave them a card. “Bill me.”
No one argued with him. Before Derek left, he took one more look at the trio. “Who threw the rocks?”
“I didn’t.” The manager held up his hand. “These two did.”
Derek stared at the pair, his eyes on the cheap looking blonde. “Well, unlike you, Norman, I don’t hit women.” He drew back his fist and punched the jerk hard in the face. “Assholes are a different story.”
CHAPTER TEN
The trip from Hempfield to Longleaf was made with Derek in a cloud of fury. “Who the hell do those sanctimonious bastards think they are?” He felt like he was dealing with people from another time. “Salem witch trials or something.”
“And she writes books?” He shook his head. This revelation hit him hard. Shame swept over him when he thought of the things he’d accused her of in his heart. “Prostitution. Theft.” He’d had a hard time putting a finger on it and now he knew why. She didn’t act like a person who was guilty of such things.
Namely, because she wasn’t guilty.
“Books. She writes books!” he said in wonder. It was funny. He would’ve laughed, but sadly – it wasn’t funny at all.
They’d hit her with rocks. Stones.
The impossible situation was almost beyond his comprehension. He wanted to call the law, maybe the local sheriff. “Hell, I ought to call the FBI.” Derek nodded to himself. “Or the Texas Rangers. Yea, the Rangers.” He let himself fantasize about the elite Texas crime fighting team riding in on horses with guns blazing. “I’ll check on it tomorrow, see what I can do.”
Until then, she had him to watch over her.
The first order of business would be to check on her condition and if need be, take her to the doctor. He probably should’ve taken her to the doctor before charging to the lumberyard. He’d known she was hurt. He just hadn’t known how badly or how.
As he entered the city limits, Derek let himself admit he cared.
Oh, he wasn’t in love. He wasn’t ready for that.
But he cared.
She was a damsel in distress and he could be a fuckin’ hero. “Yea, a hero. That’s me.” June would like the thought. She loved to dress up like a Disney princess and dream of her prince charming.
“And that kiss. Damn.” He hadn’t forgotten a moment of that amazing kiss.
Now that he knew the nature of what others considered to be her great sin, would he be able to keep her at arm’s length?
“Fuck me silly…” he bemoaned the situation that tempted him to upset the necessary priorities and boundaries he’d set for himself. Derek didn’t know what the next day or two would bring, but he knew one thing – being around her would be a test of his endurance. He wouldn’t be able to look at her without wanting to hold her in his arms, taste her lips, touch her skin. Would it be smart?
No. He had to think about his custody case.
So, he could look and not touch? Dream and not deliver? Ache and not get relief?
Derek didn’t think he had a choice, other than to walk away from her.
And he knew without a doubt – that wasn’t going to happen.
* * *
At home, Shae was in her room, in her bed, curled up in a fetal position. The clock by her bedside told her Derek’s work day was over. Regardless if he was able to pick up the sink fixture or not, he wouldn’t come back to work today. He was angry at her for not being able to do one simple thing he asked. Sadly, it hadn’t turned out to be so simple. She didn’t really care if he was able to get the faucet, she just hoped he didn’t find out the truth about what happened.
Closing her eyes, she let a tsunami of shame and mortification wash over her. The sensation burned her nerve endings and made her body ache with a queasy weakness. She still couldn’t process being physically attacked, the way adulterers were dealt with in the Bible. Shae thought she would rather die than Derek ever find out. Surely, those crazy people who attacked her would be too ashamed and afraid to brag about it.
She was wrong.
Bam! Slam!
“Shae! Where are you?”
“Oh, no.” Maybe if she was quiet, he’d think she was asleep.
Tap! Tap!
“Shae?”
She pressed her lips together and pulled the pillow over her head.
“Shae? If you’re in there, say something, or I’m coming in.”
There was a pause.
“Hell, I’m coming in anyway!”
Shae jerked the covers higher around her body. The only thing she wore was a simple pink nightgown with narrow lace around the sleeves and a tiny bow at the neck. In other words, the least sexy garment in the world. “Derek, I’m good.”
Another sin. Another lie. She wasn’t good. She was in pain and she probably looked like she’d been run over by a herd of wild horses.
“Shae, uncover your head,” Derek spoke with a tight calmness, as if he were speaking without opening his mouth all the way.
Still, she balked. “You don’t want to see. I’m a mess.”
“I need to know how badly you’re hurt. I want to take you to the doctor ASAP if need be.”
“Doctor, no!” She still held the sheet, feeling like a little kid who didn’t want to get their school vaccinations.
“Shae…” He tugged on the sheet and she sighed, letting go.
“I told you I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.” He was horrified to see the huge bruise on her forehead. “My God!”
“I’ll live. They just…hit me.” She hugged herself tightly, shutting her eyes to rid herself of the memory of people in her community turning on her like mad dogs.
“The people at the lumberyard.” Derek saw red, remembering the stupidity of the idiots who hurt her.
“Yes. How did you find out?” Shae squeaked, thinking this was worse than the blows themselves.
“The jerks were bragging about what they’d done.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “It’s no big deal.”
“You’re sorry?” he asked in disbelief.
“I’m afraid we’ll need to order the materials from Angelina. These folks aren’t going to do business with me.”
“Fuck ‘em!” When she swung her legs over the side of the bed and the gown she was wearing rode up on her legs high enough that he could see the other bruises, he almost died. “I vow I’m going to kill the motherfuckers.” Seeing a dark shadow on her face, he walked over and flipped on the light, then came back and pushed her hair to one side. “Kill them, dead.”
&nb
sp; “No, you’re not,” she whispered. “I just won’t go back.”
“Where else did they get you?”
Seeing his determination, she just gave in and showed him the four places where the rocks had found their mark. She retained her modesty, not revealing more skin than she had to…not that it would’ve mattered. Her body at the moment was more stomach turning than enticing.
The large bruises were obscene in Derek’s eyes. “Savages. Ignorant savages.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and Shae closed her eyes as his hands moved over her body. “I’ll be okay. The bruises will be gone in a few days.”
“We’re not taking any chances.”
Before she could stop him, he scooped her up in his arms. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“Grab your robe.” He dipped her down as he passed the end of the bed so she could pick up the filmy garment. “I’m taking you to the doctor, then we’re calling the cops.”
Immediately, Derek felt her stiffen in his arms. “No, please, no.”
Understanding her hesitancy, he soothed her fears. “We’re heading to the north part of the county. I have a friend there. I’ll call him on the way and tell him we’re coming.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” she protested, wiggling a little in his arms. “And it won’t do any to call the cops. Please.”
Derek shook his head. “Let’s worry about the doctor, first. You’ll like this guy, I promise. Drew Haley doesn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. We went to school together.”
As much as she hated the idea, Shae relented. Being held close to him was worth almost any amount of discomfort. “This isn’t really necessary, but thank you for…”
“For what?” he asked her as they left the house to get into his truck. “Being human. Civil. Caring?”
“Yea, caring. I haven’t seen much of that lately.”
Derek placed one foot on the running board and balanced her on his knee while he opened the door.
“You should’ve let me walk, I’m too heavy to tote around like this.”
He chuckled. “Such a burden.” She wasn’t heavy, but he couldn’t help but notice the difference between cradling her in his arms and carrying Blair. His ex was model-thin, all angles and planes. Shae was soft and curvy. “I bet you like to cuddle, don’t you?”
Shae thought a minute. She had so few memories of her mother. And her grandmother wasn’t the demonstrative type. “Oh, I’m positive I would.”
“You don’t know for sure?” he asked, then didn’t wait for an answer. He started to fasten her seatbelt but she stopped him.
“I’ll get it, I need to get my robe on first.”
“Right.” Derek didn’t argue. He shut the door and ran around to the driver’s side. He didn’t think her condition was an emergency, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Willow, Zane’s cousin, was a surgeon and she’d related a story one day about a man who’d sustained a blow to the head that seemed fine…until a brain aneurysm had brought him to his knees.
“Thank you for doing this,” Shae told him once he was behind the wheel and backing out of the drive. “I’m just so embarrassed by it all.” She laughed self-consciously. “I wish you could’ve known me before, I’m really just a regular person. I swear.”
“I know, honey. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this.” He headed out of Longleaf and turned north. Glancing over at Shae, he saw her place a hand over her eyes. “Hurting?”
“Not anymore than it has been, I’m just a little dizzy.”
Derek pressed the gas a little harder. Taking out his phone, he placed a call. In a moment, someone answered.
“Alden, is that you?”
“Hey, Haley. Been a long time.”
“I’d say. Where are you, still out near Austin?”
“No. Long story that I can sum up in one word. Divorce. I’m in your neck of the woods. Longleaf…and I’m headed your way. I have a friend with me who needs help.”
“Oh, hell yeah. Any friend of yours. I’ll meet you at the clinic in ten. What’s the problem?”
Derek glanced at Shae. “She was assaulted.”
“Shit. Have you called the cops?”
“No, please, no,” Shae begged, overhearing.
Derek frowned at her but relented. “She doesn’t want that. Special circumstance.” Seeing the discomfort on Shae’s face, he reached over and covered her hand with his.
“Whatever makes her comfortable. Head on over, I’ll meet you there.”
Shae’s hand trembled under his. “Thanks, Drew,” he said, disconnecting the call.
“Dr. Haley sounds nice,” Shae murmured, still shaking with the prospect of explaining herself to someone else. Hunting something else to think about, she ventured to ask Derek a question. “Did I hear him say you were from Austin?”
“Yea, I lived out there after graduating from UT.”
Shae smiled. “I’ve heard a lot of students do that. They fall in love with the city and the area and can’t bear to leave.”
“Well, my folks were living in Bastrop at the time. Eventually, I bought some land over there to build a home. Did you go to college?” he asked her, keeping his eye on the road. Dusk was upon them and the narrow highway was heavily traveled by rock trucks and semis.
“I did. Not UT level, I went to Stephen F. Austin.”
“Ah, a Lumberjack. Beautiful campus, I hear.”
“Yea, lots of trees, much like East Texas as a whole used to be.” She gazed out the window into the moonlight where she could see through the fringe of pines left by the side of the road. “I just hate how they’ve clear-cut the area. Knox is replanting, but the forests won’t return in our lifetime. When I was younger, I can remember dense forests, lush river bottoms, and virgin pines you couldn’t reach around. I wish you could’ve seen it back then.”
“Oh, I did. I spent my summers here until I was a teenager and discovered girls.” He chuckled at the memory. “My mother’s folks were from Longleaf and her brother lived here until he died last month.”
“Who?”
“Albert Gary. Did you know him?”
“Oh, my goodness, yes. I sang for his funeral. I remember because I took some church kids to Galveston the week before, about the same time Coretta had her stroke.”
“I was in Galveston about that time too, but no one notified me he’d died.” How odd that made him feel. Like they were connected somehow. “You sang at his funeral?”
“I’ve sang at more funerals than I can count. Very few have died in Longleaf or any of the other nearby communities in the last twenty years that I didn’t sing or play for the funeral.”
“Twenty years? You don’t look much older than that.”
Shae shrugged. “I started playing at eight. I always accused Digger of making me part of their package deal.”
“Digger? Who’s Digger?”
“Our mortician, of course.”
Derek threw back his head and roared. “The mortician’s name is Digger? That’s priceless.”
“Oh, please, don’t make me laugh.” She held her head and smiled, having a good time with him – even if this was one of the top three worst days of her life. “I have fond memories of his father. On my eighth birthday, my dad made me choose between a horse or a piano for his gift to me. I wanted them both, but I wanted the horse a great deal more. My father said the church needed me to be able to play, especially since their pianist had just passed away.” She laughed softly. “We were at the funeral home at her viewing when my father and I had this discussion. I’d been taking piano lessons at school and I could play two church songs: Amazing Grace and Away in a Manger.”
She hushed, reminiscing how the song leader, Mr. Paul Guy, had worked with her until she was comfortable playing in front of the congregation, becoming more of a father figure over time. “Anyway, I chose the piano. Mr. Moon, Digger’s father, overheard our discussion and bright and early on my birthday, a horse trailer pulled up at my house and del
ivered a beautiful bay horse. I named him Comanche. After that, I practiced and practiced, becoming the church pianist at eight and a half years old. If there was a funeral I needed to play for, Mr. Moon would come get me in the hearse and I’d do my thing, and when the funeral was over, he’d bring me back. Sometimes…” She giggled. “He let me turn on the siren.”
“Wait. Why did a hearse have a siren?”
“Oh, Derek, this is the boonies. Those long, black limousines, as Elvis used to sing, served as both a hearse and an ambulance.”
“Gee, can you imagine not knowing that, and coming to in the back of one of those things on the way to the hospital?”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be pleasant.” She grew quiet and looked out the window. “We’re getting close.”
“Yea.” He squeezed her hand again. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not.” She returned the comforting pressure of his fingers. “You have a calming effect on me, I guess.”
“Good.” Maybe. He’d like to think he excited her. “So, have you always wanted to be a writer?”
“Uh. No.” She let out a long breath. “All I ever wanted to be was a good person. A wife. A mom. Someone people could depend upon. I began selling my writing out of desperation.” She told him about her grandmother’s situation. “I’m all she has. We’re not rich people. Our family was respected…” She sighed and paused. “Until I messed up.”
Derek wanted to know more, but they’d arrived at the clinic. “Just sit still. I’ll come help you out,” he told her once he’d pulled into the circular drive at the emergency entrance. “Don’t worry, you’re among friends here. Drew runs a tight ship. His wife is his right hand and she’s an absolute joy to be around. Remind me on the way home and I’ll tell you their story.”
“Okay.” She unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door. As crazy as all of this seemed, this miserable ordeal she found herself in, being here with Derek felt good. When he came around to help her out, he picked her up and sat her down in a wheelchair.