She tried to imagine a life with C.J. and Liam, but couldn’t, not as the damaged person she was now.
She was scarred and scared and full to her core with burning shame—undeserved and unearned, but her burden to carry in life nonetheless.
She’d been raped and beaten down by poverty and lost her shining girl, all before she was old enough to figure out who she really was, and what she might have been capable of given half a chance in life.
The girl in the mirror brushed a hand down her cheek. When was the last time she’d gone out without foundation?
Seven years or so ago.
Her skin felt soft, smooth, as though it could finally breathe.
Pale morning sunlight slanted in through her window making her skin look pearly.
What would C.J. think?
She plunked herself down onto the bed. It doesn’t matter what he thinks.
She jumped up and paced to the window. Yeah, it sure does matter.
Why was it so hard to leave the house without makeup?
Oh, man, she’d used it for protection for so long, she didn’t know how to be in the world without it.
And the shame. It wasn’t like she had a black mark on her face that said this woman should be ashamed. She had that mark on her soul, though, and didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
She breathed deeply, once, twice, walked across her room and opened the door.
C.J.’s and Liam’s voices drifted upstairs.
She entered the store and stopped. Her hands shook. She slid a hand down the smooth fabric of the skirt she’d bought yesterday.
Look at me, C.J. Look at me.
He did, staring at her with his mouth hanging open.
“Janey?”
JANEY DIDN’T HAVE ON a speck of makeup. Not one speck.
God, she was pretty, and fresh, and so clean.She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail, emphasizing her heart-shaped face.
Standing in the store fingering the fabric of her green skirt with one hand and straightening the collar of her pink blouse with the other, she looked younger than usual. Innocent. Soft.
Vulnerable.
Was she afraid that he wouldn’t like her this way?
Oh, yeah, he liked her.
He inched forward.
She stepped closer to him.
He must have moved again, too, because she was suddenly right in front of him, close enough for him to touch her.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded whispery, breathy.
“Hi,” he answered and swallowed. Hard.
She stared at him with huge eyes no longer hidden by those enormous black spider legs she ladled on every day. Why did she ever think she had to hide such pretty dark eyes?
“You look good.”
Her gaze skittered away from his and she flushed. “Really?”
“Why?” he blurted.
She shrugged one shoulder and stared at the candy cases. Her profile looked more refined with her ponytail emphasizing her fine jaw and sharp little chin. “I don’t want you to lose Liam because of the way I dress.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant. He was asking her why she hid herself from the world when she was perfect the way God had created her.
“Thanks.” He smiled. “It means a lot to me.”
She turned that huge gaze back to him. She’d ditched the black lipstick and her pretty bow-shaped mouth turned up at the corners in response to his smile.
She was starting to relax, to look less as though she’d spook and run.
She’d ditched her makeup and her clothing and a bunch of her piercings for him, so he wouldn’t lose his son. He didn’t know what to make of it, but knew that he felt more than mere gratitude. He felt too much for her.
He slammed his hat onto his head. “We gotta go.”
“Janey’s where?” Liam asked, peeping around Janey’s legs, clearly not recognizing her.
“Here,” she said and squatted in front of him.
Liam peered into her eyes. A frown creased his forehead.
Janey seemed to be holding her breath. C.J. knew she’d been uncomfortable with Liam, hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of time with him at the start, but right now she looked afraid that he would reject her.
Liam nodded. “’Kay.” He took her hand in his and leaned against her.
A hiss of air escaped Janey and she blinked hard.
C.J. led them out to the Jeep.
Janey settled Liam in the backseat then started to climb in beside him.
“Might as well come up here,” C.J. said. “He’ll fall asleep the second we hit the highway.”
Janey came around the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. She had trouble with the seat belt.
“Sorry,” C.J. said. “It sticks.”
He took the buckle from her hand, brushed her cold-as-ice fingers, and locked it into place.
“You nervous today?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“A whole bunch of stuff.” She didn’t elaborate.
Flat fields and distant hills flew by at a brisk speed. C.J. needed to get into Billings and through the appointment so he could take his son back home again.
He must have been crazy to insist that she sit up front with him. She smelled like coconut and tropical fruits. Edible.
Janey cleared her throat. “Can I make more than one stop in Billings?”
“Sure. Where?”
She shrugged, as if she didn’t really care whether she stopped wherever or saw whoever it was she wanted to visit, but her fingers betrayed her. They rubbed the hem of her skirt, smoothed it over her knee then rubbed it again.
Throughout the long drive to Billings, she said not a word, but her fingers continued to knead and smooth that skirt until he thought she’d wear a hole in it.
“What’s going through your head?” he asked.
“Is it okay if we don’t talk for a while?”
“Sure.” What the hell was she so worried about? He’d forgotten that Marjorie had recognized her. That’s why she was here. Had she been in some kind of trouble when she lived in Billings, besides giving birth way too young?
Had she ditched the makeup to hedge her bets against whatever else was going to happen with Marjorie today?
A horrid thought and the only thing more horrid was the vile taste of fear that filled C.J.’s mouth.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
INSIDE THE CHILDREN AND Family Services offices, a pretty young woman took Liam by the hand and led him to a spacious room with large windows along the front, where colorful child-drawn posters lined the walls.
Janey remembered it as a happy room for Cheryl. Memories of her daughter walked like ghosts through these halls. Oh, it was hard to come back here without Cheryl.Liam ran to one of the drawings and patted it with his hands. “Mine,” he squealed. Then he ran to a big plastic toy box and threw open the lid. He knew everything here. How many times had he and C.J. been here? Or had Liam come with his mother?
C.J. pointed her toward Ms. Bates’s office. This used to be her caseworker Helen Strachan’s office where Janey and Cheryl sat through so many meetings.
Marjorie looked frazzled. Harried.
She smiled and motioned them inside, removing a stack of files from one of the chairs. Janey motioned for C.J. to take it while she perched on a stool.
Being in one of these rooms again made her nervous.
She’d survived all of those old interviews with her caseworker, but today she felt traces of the frightened young girl she used to be, visiting this office through no fault nor choice of her own.
She used to sit where C.J. was sitting now and Cheryl used to perch on the little stool Janey currently occupied before being escorted to the happy room. Janey remembered how sick with nerves she would be, so freaking afraid she would say or do something wrong that would jeopardize her custody of her daughter. If only Cheryl were here now so Janey could take comfort from her presence. She clasped
her hands in her lap to still a tremor that ran through her.
Don’t screw up C.J.’s chances today. Logically, she didn’t know what she could possibly say or do that could hurt C.J., but she worried anyway.
Marjorie studied her and Janey forced herself not to squirm.
“You clean up well,” the social worker said.
Janey felt self-conscious about being naked. Maybe she should have put on a little makeup.
“I talked to Helen Strachan,” Marjorie said.
Janey felt C.J. watching her.
“She had only good things to say about you as a mother. I was sorry to hear from her that your daughter died last year.”
“Thank you,” Janey said, quietly.
Marjorie directed her next comment to C.J. “I don’t in the least consider Janey a bad influence on your son. Helen said she was an exemplary caregiver.”
A thrill ran through Janey. God, that felt good to hear.
When C.J.’s shoulders relaxed a little, Janey realized how tense he’d been, but could sense how tense he still was.
“That takes care of the issue about the company you’ve been keeping, C.J.” Marjorie plunged into no-nonsense, get-down-to-business social worker mode. “Let’s address this issue of Liam being at the store every day. Yes, I’ve heard about that. Where is your grandfather?”
“In the hospital for knee-replacement surgery.”
“How long will his recovery take?”
“A month.”
“How are you addressing the issue of Liam’s safety in the store?”
“He’s only allowed in the back room when there is an adult present.”
Marjorie shot her gaze to Janey. “Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Marjorie said. “C.J., do you have any concerns about Liam that you would like to address here today?”
C.J. leaned his forearms on the desk. “Has he ever told you what Vicki said about me that makes him afraid of me?”
Marjorie shook her head.
“Liam hasn’t told me, either,” he said. “Or Gramps.”
“I wish I could help you with that.”
He jumped out of his chair and appeared as though he needed to pace, but there was nowhere to go.
“I need to know. I can’t keep going on in ignorance. How can I fight this without knowing what I’m fighting against?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Marjorie watched C.J. with what looked like compassion.
She caught a file as it slipped from the desk. “We don’t usually interfere in a father’s relationship with his son, but I have to check out every complaint from the Fishers.”
“Meddling bastards.”
Marjorie’s lips thinned.
“Marjorie, please don’t hold that against C.J.” The words flew from Janey’s mouth, tripped over themselves to defend C.J. “He works so hard to be good to Liam, takes care of him really well, but Liam won’t respond to him. Now these people are complaining about C.J. when he hasn’t done anything wrong. If it was me and my child, I’d be upset, too.”
She felt C.J. snap around to stare at her. What? Did he think she wouldn’t help him? She knew how hard he worked to be a good father.
“Okay,” Marjorie said. She returned her attention to C.J. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve seen nothing since Liam moved to live with you and your grandfather that corroborates what they said.”
“I’m not hurting my son, and you don’t think she’ll hurt my son.” He jabbed a finger in Janey’s direction. “So why are we here?”
“C.J., as far as I can tell, Vicki’s parents don’t have a case against you, but I’m compelled by the state to interview Liam to make sure. Why don’t you leave him with me for a couple of hours then come back?”
“This is bogus.” C.J. rapped his hat against his thigh. “Okay. Sure,” he said and left the room.
At the Jeep, C.J. hesitated before getting in. Janey had opened her door to climb in when he said, “Thanks.”
They stared at each other across the top of the vehicle.
“For defending me,” he went on. “You did a good thing.”
She shrugged. “That’s okay.” She said it as though his opinion didn’t matter to her, but it did. Oh, it did.
“Where do you need to go?” C.J. asked.
Janey felt her nerves rattle. She’d had a reprieve from reality for the past year at the Sheltering Arms. Now, she wasn’t so sure what kind of reception she’d receive in Billings.
“I’d like to touch base with my family. I haven’t spoken to them in a year. They might be mad at me for that.”
“Why haven’t you contacted them?”
“I hadn’t wanted to talk about Cheryl being gone.” She actually hadn’t been able to. “But I knew the family would want to, especially my little sister, Shannon.”
“That’s so tough,” C.J. said. “Are you nervous?” He gestured toward her hands.
She looked down at her knuckles turning white on her entwined fingers.
“Do you want some support?” C.J. asked. “I can go with you.”
Oh, boy, how did she feel about that? She found it so hard to open herself up, to let all of who she was out. She did want support, though. In a rare move, she decided to take him up on his offer.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Please.”
JANEY STARED at the scarred door of the apartment where she grew up. Where the rest of her family still lived.
Lift your hand and knock already. But she couldn’t. The hallway smelled musty, made her nauseous, and made her regret coming back here where the air reeked of poverty.She’d left it all behind.
Thank you, Amy and Hank, for taking me away from this.
“Is it hard to come back?” C.J. asked. She’d forgotten he was with her.
“Yes,” she said. “It wasn’t always a great place to grow up.” Then she realized that C.J. might get the wrong impression and rushed on, “It wasn’t my dad or my brother or sisters. I loved them. It was just so much work and responsibility taking care of them after my mom died. And I was the oldest yet still so young.”
“How old?”
“When she died? Ten.”
He gestured with his head toward the door and said, “Better get it over with.”
She knocked. Footsteps sounded inside then the door opened.
Janey’s baby sister, Shannon, stood in the doorway.
She stared at Janey blankly for a minute, then a big smile lit her face.
Her younger sister had grown up some since last year. No longer a gangly fifteen-year-old, she’d gained weight in all the right places. She was a knockout.
Always impulsive, she threw her arms around Janey’s neck. Janey squeezed her back. She hadn’t thought she’d missed anything in Billings besides Cheryl’s grave.
“You came back,” Shannon declared, pulling away from Janey and wiping stray moisture from her eyelashes.
Shannon was crying for her? Janey had expected anger, maybe even hatred. Instead, she was on the receiving end of a warm welcome. Her eyes misted over.
“I didn’t think anyone would miss me,” she said.
“We missed you.” Shannon took her wrist and dragged her into the apartment.
“Wait! C.J., come in.” Janey motioned him in.
“C.J.? Who’s C.J.?” Shannon asked.
He stepped from the hallway into the apartment and Shannon grinned again.
“Hey,” she said.
Oh, Shannon, don’t look at men like that. You don’t know how much they can hurt you.
Shannon looked as though she already knew her way around men. While Janey had been gone, her little sister had grown up.
“Shannon, this is C. J. Wright. I work for him.”
C.J. grinned.
Janey looked away.
The apartment was still the same. The fake leather sofa still sagged in the middle. Cracks along the arms were still mended with duct tape. Dad’s old flowered armchair still had the to
rn pocket hanging down the side that held his reading glasses and the folded-up papers of the TV Guide. Someone must be downloading copies of it from the Internet. Had someone bought a computer?
The walls wore the hideous turquoise paint Dad had bought at a discount ten years before.
Then she noticed something that was different. Down the bedroom hallway, the wall was lined with boxes.
She glanced at C.J. and felt her cheeks warm up. Everything looked so shabby.
He touched the old TV. “This still analog?”
Shannon shrugged. “Beats me.” She obviously liked C.J. Judging by his lazy smile, he obviously liked her right back. Janey could easily rearrange his face for him.
She had the irrational urge to yell “He’s mine,” but that thought was so stupid it didn’t warrant acknowledging. C.J. was a free agent and so was she. Funny, though, suddenly she was tired of being one. She wanted more, but how was she to get it? Except for when she’d let C.J. hold her after the robbery, when her defenses had been so low that she’d needed to be held, she still couldn’t bring herself to consider that she could let that happen on a daily basis, in a relationship with a man—the physical affection of hugs and sex.
If she hated having any man touch her in the most innocent of ways, how would she feel if one tried to touch her there? Even someone she liked as much as she did C.J.? She couldn’t lie to a man and promise they’d live happily ever after.
But when C.J. had held her the other day, when he’d nearly squeezed the life out of her with his muscled arms, she’d felt safe and cherished. Imagine being able to do that everyday. The loss of any possibility of that happening left her stunned, grieving.
She forced those feelings into her private core.
Get on with life, Janey. No feeling sorry for yourself.
“You guys want a coffee or something?” Shannon offered.
Before C.J. could accept, Janey said, “No, we’re not staying that long.” Shannon looked hurt, so Janey rushed on, “We have a few stops to make. I just wanted to see how everyone was.”
She felt C.J. staring, but refused to look at him.
“We’re all good,” Shannon said. “Dad got promoted to foreman.”
“No kidding! Does he like it?”
“Yeah. He’s in a better mood these days. The extra money helps a lot.”
A Cowboy's Plan Page 15