“Don’t you pull that high and mighty act with me. You and Oralee might head up the Methodist church, but I got every Baptist in town on my side.”
“You’re evil. I’m surprised God lets you walk through the church doors,” Evie said.
“So says the bar junkie. Serving alcohol is a sin.”
“Then it must really get in your craw that your husband is in my bar every Friday night.”
“Liar.” Mavis’s eyes practically bulged from her round face.
Evie smirked, “I don’t have to lie. You can ask anybody who comes out on a Friday night.”
Mavis sputtered, for once unable to deny the facts.
“The girl is right. Rand is one of C.W.’s best customers,” Mrs. Trudy said. C.W., Evie’s grandpa, co-owned the Wharf with his granddaughter.
“You can lie all you want, but it doesn’t negate the fact that Amy cheated on Shane.” Mavis was fast turning a dark shade of red. She pointed her finger at Evie and Chloe. “Chloe isn’t even Shane’s daughter.”
Amy felt the noose cinch so tight around her neck the air couldn’t get to her lungs. Was she going to stand here and let Mavis talk about her daughter?
Amy ripped the noose off. “That’s a lie. The fact that you can say something so malicious about your own granddaughter speaks to the kind of person you are. Hate festers in you. It sure is a good thing you’re in church so much, cause you need to be on your knees every day, praying for your soul.”
“You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I damn well can.”
“You just wait. I’ll make sure Rand cuts you off today. No more business. You’re ruined.”
“I don’t care. I don’t need anything from your family.”
“Now wait a minute. Mavis are you trying to say that girl ain’t Shane’s?” Mrs. Oralee pointed at Chloe.
“Exactly.”
“Then how come her eyes are the same green as every Carter in this county?” Mrs. Trudy said.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Trudy stood her ground. “Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m talking about. Ever since you’re first husband ran off with that waitress you turned into a spiteful witch.”
Mavis gasped but Mrs. Trudy continued on, “You use people, that’s the only reason you have any power in this town. Everyone is afraid of you. I’m gonna tell you something though. I know this girl didn’t cheat on your son. Just like I can see plain as day Chloe is his.”
“Clear as a damn picture,” Oralee chimed in.
“And in case you missed roll call last Sunday, we got twice the members in our church as yours. If you pull this girl’s credit from Rand’s store, I will make sure every soul in this town knows your husband keeps the liquor store in business. Even if I have to personally go door to door.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” Trudy crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’ll help,” Oralee cackled and clapped her hands together.
Mavis took a step back, her composure slipping. “You can’t threaten me.”
“Oh, that’s no threat. That’s a promise.”
Mavis’s eyes bounced from woman to woman. She took another step back. If word got out about Rand to the church crowd, Mavis’s position of power would sink faster than a brick in water.
“You did this,” Mavis pointed at Amy.
“I did nothing but try to live my life. You’re spite did this. You never wanted Shane to have anyone but yourself.”
“I’ll make you regret this, Amy.” Mavis backed all the way to the door.
Amy lifted her chin and gave Mavis a small smile. “I’ll pray for you.”
After a strangled growl, Mavis fled, the doorbell chiming behind her. Amy let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been hiding.
“Holy mother, that felt good.”
Amy turned to see Oralee and Trudy giving each other a high five. “That woman has needed a put down for years.”
“About time we stood up to her. She isn’t anything but trouble,” Mrs. Trudy said.
Amy grabbed Chloe off Evie’s hip, needing a distraction from the close call. That situation could have gone so much worse.
“Can you believe it Trudy? I said a curse word.”
“I’m sure the lord will forgive you for it, if anyone in this town deserved it, it was her.” Mrs. Trudy hugged Amy. “And if I may say so, it’s about time you started dating again. And a man as good looking and good hearted as Ranger James too.”
Amy grabbed onto the older lady’s arm, tears prickling her eyes. “Thank you.”
“That’s right, girl. Don’t want to end up pining after your man for fifty years like this one.” Mrs. Oralee elbowed Trudy, and then checked her perfectly permed grey hair in the mirror.
“If you recall, I am not pining anymore.” Mrs. Trudy huffed then turned to Evie. “What’s your grandpa up to today?”
“He’s fishing, I believe, with Mr. Smith,” Evie said.
“And this sweet girl.” Trudy kissed Chloe on the cheek. “Why haven’t I seen her in church?”
Amy’s face heated. She hadn’t been to church since Shane’s death.
“Leave her alone, can’t you see she’s trying to get ready for a date?” Mrs. Oralee patted Amy on the shoulder.
“Tell Cyprien I’ll be expecting his phone call at five o’clock sharp,” Trudy said.
Evie stifled a laugh and agreed to convey the message. A more odd couple Amy couldn’t fathom, but for some reason, Mrs. Trudy set her hat after C.W. Videl, Evie’s grandpa, and the two had been courting for months.
“Sinful.” Mrs. Oralee muttered.
“Now, Oralee, I’ve caught you staring at James Harlow in church for the past three months,” Mrs. Trudy said.
“You’re getting the dementia. Come on, let’s let these young girls get dolled up. I want to catch Rhetta before she stops making her fried pies for the afternoon.”
“If you can forgive the drama, I’m ready.” Amber stood behind the swivel chair.
“Fried pies it is. Can’t hurt to add a few more curves to my girlish figure. C.W. swears he likes curves.”
Amy grabbed Trudy before she could leave and pulled her into a swift hug. “Thank you for that.”
Mrs. Trudy patted her and stepped back, “She’s been needin’ a set down for quite some time. The good Lord just presented me the opportunity with which to do it.”
With a wave goodbye, Trudy and Oralee left, and Amy headed to the chair. “Is this going to hurt?”
Amber spun her around to face the mirror, “Not if you hold still.”
21
Chapter 21
Amy wiggled her freshly painted toes in her brand new sandals and placed her muddy boots in the back of Hunter’s borrowed truck. Her feet felt…lighter. After a highlight, cut, mani and pedi, Evie in all her good wisdom, had brought Rosalee over for a new wardrobe. Rosalee Cosas owned Swank, the newest trendiest boutique in town. Amy bought not one but two new outfits, one of which she wore right now, along with matching shoes and accessories. And, on the side, she’d purchased a certain special outfit for Ranger’s eyes only.
She was now refreshed and rejuvenated. She’d been dreading the confrontation with Mavis, letting her fear hold her back for so long, but now she was free. Trudy and Oralee had her back. If there was one thing guaranteed to keep Mavis’s fat mouth shut, it was her husband’s closet alcoholism.
Amy buckled a sleeping Chloe into the car and climbed behind the wheel, ready to take on the world and all the Mavis Carters in it.
Ready to take on the one task she had avoided more than her monster-in-law. “I think I’m ready to go through Shane’s belongings.”
Evie reached across the console and grabbed her hand. “Are you sure? After all this excitement?”
“Yes, you’ve helped me see that I’ve not only been hiding from myself, but I’ve been avoiding moving on. I think I have to do this before I can
completely close the lid on that box, and move past Shane without baggage. Without reservation. I want to give me and Ranger a real chance.”
“Let’s get to it then. Where are we headed?”
“U-Store-It.” Amy had been so shell-shocked after the funeral, she let Ranger handle moving all of Shane’s belongings back home. He stored them in the heated and cooled storage sheds in town, safe and secure for her when she was ready. Amy pulled out onto the highway, biting her lip. Even then Ranger had anticipated her needs.
A few minutes later they pulled into the storage parking lot, the lines of orange and tan metal units lined up five rows deep. Amy reached into her purse and pulled the key from one of the inside pockets. Thirteen. Shane’s football jersey number. She turned right, in between the first and second row, and parked at the third unit down. Thirteen. The number glared down at her from above a large orange garage type door.
Another door she had to open. Would this one change her life for the better?
“You sure about this? His stuff isn’t going anywhere, we can always come back another day,” Evie said.
Amy steeled herself, straightened her spine. “No. It has to be today. If I don’t find a way to move on I’ll be stuck in this… this… I don’t know what to call it. I’m ready to move on with an open heart and open mind. It’s not fair to Ranger that I keep holding back.”
Amy grabbed the door handle.
“How about I stay in the car with Chloe and let her sleep and give you a minute alone?” Evie said.
Amy nodded, unable to talk around her knotted up throat, and exited the truck, shutting the door quietly behind her. She stood before the shed, key in hand, feeling like David ready to face Goliath.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Amy repeated the mantra over and over as she knelt on the asphalt and unlocked the door. The door snapped up, rolling with efficiency, and Amy almost fell backward. Instead, she gathered her willpower, stood and took the first step inside. The room was small, no bigger than eight by ten feet, and empty except for one black box.
Amy took another step, her legs as wobbly as a loose tire on a gravel road. All that remained of her husband’s belongings from overseas were packed into a box the size of a trunk.
She approached with caution born of fear and grabbed the lock. A lock for which she had no key. The walls shrunk, the ceiling lowered. Cold metal walls. Cold concrete floors. Sterile. Unfeeling. Uncaring.
The lock clattered from her shaking fingers. Not here. She couldn’t go through his private belongings here. Amy spun and ran to the truck, yanking the door open. “I can’t do this here. It’s not right. Can we take it back to your house, let me open it there?”
“You okay?” Evie peered at her like she was losing it, and maybe she was, all her bravado from earlier dissipating in the afternoon sun.
“Yes, I don’t want to do it here.”
“Well of course you can. The guys won’t be home anytime soon. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”
“Thanks.” Amy closed the door, went back to the box, and started to drag it to the truck. Sweat dripped down between her breasts by the time she’d pulled the heavy trunk the twenty feet to the truck and lowered the tailgate. She stood and fanned her new shirt out from her chest, attempting to circulate some air.
Evie hopped out, took one look at Amy and shook her head. “We need help.”
“Yeah, I’m not leaving without it. Not now.”
“Wait here.” Evie went off in the direction of the office, reemerging a few minutes later with a familiar face in tow.
“Now Ms. Amy, you can’t lift that thing by yourself. You shoulda come got me from the get go.” Steve Jones, lifelong resident of Mercy, towered over the women in his Big Smith overalls and sleeveless t-shirt.
“Thank you so much. I tried, but I just can’t pick it up. I had no idea it was so heavy,” Amy said.
“No bother at all.” He bent down and picked the trunk up with ease and placed it in the back of the truck. “I know I should have come by sooner, but I’m sorry for your loss. Shane was a good man. Served his country. Wish we had more like him.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me and I know it would mean a lot to him,” Amy said.
“Anytime, ma’am. Let me know if I can help you out in anyway.” Steve said and then turned and went back in the office. Amy slammed the tailgate shut, locked up the shed and hopped back in the car.
“I need to see what’s inside. I want to know what his life was like all those months away.” Amy pulled back out on the highway and sped toward Evie’s turn off. They’d built the log cabin on Hank’s property, out in the woods, but not far from the river. Not far from the Wharf.
“I can’t even imagine. To know if something happened to Hunter and that’s all I had left.” Evie stared out the window and Amy felt the need to comfort her friend.
“You know as well as I you can’t think like that. Hunter is a strong man. And now he has something to fight for. Don’t let my life make you worry.” Amy turned left on the newly asphalted road to Evie’s house. After Hunter’s team set up permanent residence in Mercy, they’d paved the road and cleared sights for new buildings back off in the woods.
“Listen to me. I have my family and I’m whining over a possibility. I’m sorry,” Evie started tearing up.
“Stop apologizing. That’s all everyone does anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry your husband is dead. I’m sorry you’re having to be a single mom. Well, you know what, I’m not sorry. I’m thankful. I’m thankful for the time I had with him. I’m thankful for the blessing he gave me.” Amy swiped at the tears trailing from the corners of her eyes and glanced in the rearview mirror at her baby. A blessing Shane would never get the chance to see. To touch. To hold.
Evie cried harder and grabbed Amy’s free hand. Thelma and Louise. Best friends forever. “I love you. And I’m happy you’ve gotten your second chance.”
“Me too.” Amy whispered, unable to get the strength in her stomach to push the words out. Her second chance. Ranger. A man that vowed to fight for her. Without apology.
A man she was close to losing unless she got over her past and Mavis’s threats.
Amy pulled the truck into the drive, parked and got out, meeting Evie in front for a fierce hug. “Thank you for not giving up.”
Evie stepped back and wiped her face. “Well, I know how stubborn you are.”
“And you didn’t give up.”
“I will never give up on you.”
“Dammit, we gotta stop this or all my new makeup is going to run,” Amy attempted a laugh, almost hit it.
“I hate to tell you this honey, but you’re a little closer to raccoon than supermodel right now,” Evie said. “Okay, enough waterworks, we have a mission and I happen to have a dolly to lug that heavy thing in the house.”
“Great.” Amy went about unlocking Chloe’s car seat, careful not to wake her, and Evie returned with the dolly. A few grunts and curse words later, she’d managed to get Shane’s trunk in the living room, Chloe still asleep and all.
“Okay, go wash your face. I’ll make us a couple of glasses of wine.”
Amy ran down the hall and turned into the first door on the left. Ranger’s room. His stuff. His bed.
She swallowed the warm shiver running down her tummy. Focus. Wash your face. Deal with your baggage. Then you can bag your new man and show him what a real woman wants.
Amy went in his bathroom, grabbed a bar of soap and quickly washed all the makeup off her face. Her new shirt would need to be washed before the sweat stains set in, but later. That could be dealt with later. She went back to the living room. Evie had resumed position on the dark leather couch, feet up. Amy grabbed her glass and downed half in one swallow. Forget alcoholic. She needed the courage.
Amy faced off with Shane’s trunk. Big. Cold. Impenetrable. She lifted the lock and realization struck. No key. Ranger had given her one key. Not two. The lock fell from her fin
gers and clattered against the trunk with a sonic boom.
“I don’t have the key.” The wail of despair was real this time.
“Don’t panic. Wait right here.” Evie jumped up from the couch and ran from the room, returning a few minutes later with a large tool in her hands. “Bolt cutters.”
“Do I even want to know why you have bolt cutters?” Amy accepted the tool, almost dropping it. The cutters had handles at least two feet long and a beak made of steel.
“You can thank C.W. and the MRG.” Evie plopped back on the couch.
“You mean I can thank your near criminal background and your crazy grandpa who got you in that mess?” Evie had been inducted into the Mississippi Revolutionary Group last year, at the insistence of her grandpa. The move had not only made Evie skate the law but nearly get killed in the process.
“Exactly. Now stop yapping and get to work. I can’t handle all this suspense.”
Amy placed the bolt cutters and squeezed the handles together. The lock clipped in half with surprising ease and fell to the rug. “This is some serious equipment.”
“Told ya,” Evie said.
Amy knelt before the trunk, a wave of dread following her down, feeling like Pandora about to open her box. She swallowed and looked to Evie, who gave her a nod of encouragement. Pandora or not, Amy was doing this. Right here. Right now.
22
Chapter 22
Shane’s trunk lay open before her filled with…video games? Amy reached in and pulled them out. Halo. Modern Warfare. Medal of Honor.
What the hell?
Next came a PlayStation. Socks. Army shirts. His pillow.
His pillow. Amy pulled the soft cushion to her face and inhaled. Shane filled her senses. Memories flooded her mind. His smile. His laugh. Times of happiness. When she could move again, Amy placed the pillow to the side. A stack of metal picture frames lay in the bottom next to a shoe box that looked like an emotional atomic bomb.
Amy went for the pictures first. Lifting them one at a time, surprised at their size and weight. He must have bought them overseas. The frames were some sort of grey metal, heavy and thick, like nothing she’d ever seen before. The first held a picture of her in her wedding gown. She carefully sat it to the side and inspected the rest. Each frame held a memory. A picture of Amy in their old tire swing. Amy and Shane at the sandbar on the river. One of Amy sleeping…she didn’t even know he’d taken it. Fresh tears formed and dripped onto the glass. He’d taken all of her with him.
Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 Page 13