Just Married...Again

by Charlotte Hughes

“Look at those people gawking at me,” she said. “Probably think I’m crazy for talking to my dogs. Wonder what they’d think if they knew I read bedtime stories to you?” She chuckled and glanced at her pets.

  More tail thumping.

  Maddy continued down the interstate in her red Jeep Cherokee, noticing the wind and rain had begun to pick up in the last hour or so. The weatherman was calling for a winter storm, but she’d never known it to sleet or snow before January. She was prepared just in case. The ice chest in back held a turkey, steaks for grilling in the fireplace, and a small ham. She’d also packed canned goods and an array of fruits and vegetables. Yep, she could probably make it till Christmas if she had to.

  She wondered if she was prepared for the rush of feelings that would hit her once she stepped inside the cabin. Then she fortified her nerves with the thought that after all the pain she’d already suffered, anything now would be minimal.

  ##

  Michael could see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes. She and his sister-in-law, Brenda, had been baking pies and bread all afternoon in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner the following day. His father and oldest brother were in the den watching a football game. Michael had said a quick hello but hadn’t bothered to join them. The two men, both detectives on the force, shared a special camaraderie. Michael always felt as though he was intruding.

  “But you’ve spent every Thanksgiving with your family,” his mother said, giving her son a wounded look. “How can you desert us at a time like this?”

  “Now, Mama,” Brenda said consolingly as she carried her nine-month-old daughter on one hip and wiped the counters down with her free hand. All her daughters-in-law called her mama or mother. Kathleen Kelly insisted on it. “If the doctor feels Michael needs to get away for health reasons, then we should stand by him. After all, we want Michael to be around for future Thanksgivings,” she added.

  Michael offered Brenda a smile of appreciation. If anyone could win his mother over, it was his oldest brother’s wife. Brenda was a born nurturer. She had tried to comfort him in the early days of his and Maddy’s split, but he’d been too proud to admit he was hurting. She often told him he was in denial. If putting in sixteen-hour days and tossing back several shots of scotch before bedtime could be labeled denial, then her diagnosis had been correct. But he wasn’t about to admit as much.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Kathleen Kelly said. It was obvious she loved the younger woman and respected her opinion. She was close to all her boys’ wives. She often claimed that after raising five sons, three of whom had grown up to be policemen like their father; her daughters-in-law were a welcome relief. Unquestionably, her grandchildren were the light of her life. “It’s kind of late to get started, don’t you think? I mean, it’s after seven o’clock.”

  “There’ll be less traffic.”

  Finally, his mother shrugged. “Well, at least let me wrap up a couple of these pies.” She started to get up.

  “Better not,” he said, giving her a grim smile. “Dr. Quigley has me on a diet, too.”

  “That’s ridiculous! You’re not overweight,” she said as Becky, her ten-year-old granddaughter, came into the room asking for something to drink. Brenda reached for a container of apple juice from the refrigerator and poured some into a glass.

  It always amazed Michael what women could do with one hand. He tugged his niece’s ponytail and made a face at the baby. The older girl smacked his hand. The other giggled and hid her face. “Where’s Danny?” he asked, glancing around for some sign of his thirteen-year-old nephew.

  Brenda handed the glass of juice to her daughter. “Sulking. He wanted to meet a bunch of his friends at the movies, and his dad and I said no.”

  “Which they had every right to do,” Kathleen said, as if her opinion had been the deciding vote. “His grades are terrible.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, my, didn’t I hear the weatherman mention a possible snowstorm in the mountains?”

  Michael chuckled, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know it never snows this early in the year, Mom. But if it does, I’ve packed enough food and blankets to see me through the worst storm.” He argued with his mother a few more minutes before bidding them all farewell. Even though he knew he’d miss having Thanksgiving with them, he actually relished the thought of enjoying a little peace and quiet. He knew he was crazy to push himself the way he did, but he also knew the reasons why. He only hoped being at the cabin didn’t dredge up memories of Maddy. He’d worked too hard trying to exorcise them from his mind.

  ##

  Maddy was less than an hour from the cabin when the cold rain changed to sleet. She turned her wipers on high and switched the radio off in order to better concentrate on her driving. In the next seat, her pets slept peacefully. She wished she had gotten an earlier start, but she’d been held up at the gym by a woman who wanted to take off thirty pounds overnight, even though it’d taken her several years to put them on. People didn’t enjoy hearing that weight loss and good health took time and hard work; they wanted a miracle cure. As a fitness instructor, Maddy was expected to give them one. She could offer them knowledge and motivation and maybe a few tips, but she could not wave a magic wand and instantly give them the kind of body they desired.

  People were never really happy about their bodies. Although years of fitness training kept her in tip-top shape, there were still things she would change about her own body if she could, her thighs and calves for example. While she wanted them to be trim and shapely, she sometimes felt they were too muscular. She had recently cut back on exercising that part of her body.

  Michael, on the other hand, claimed she had the longest, shapeliest legs he’d ever seen, and he’d always insisted on her wrapping them around his waist when they made love. Maddy felt something flutter inside her stomach at the thought of her soon-to-be ex-husband.

  Lovemaking had always been especially good between them; in fact, they’d spent almost every waking moment in the sack when they’d first married. But after several years Michael had begun to feel too tired for sex. He would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Maddy had ordered sexy lingerie from various catalogs and pranced about in garter belts and feathered boas, but nothing seemed to work.

  She and Michael had become little more than roommates, their conversations superficial and banal.

  She knew her marriage was in trouble long before she missed her first period. That was nothing compared with what she went through after telling Michael she was pregnant.

  Maddy was suddenly jolted from her thoughts when she realized the sleet had turned to snow. All at once the wet stuff became white and slightly powdery, like confectioners’ sugar. She was glad to have something to think about other than Michael. It was a waste of time and not at all healthy to dwell on those last tense months, the final unhappy weeks that had prompted her to pack her bags and move out. In January, it would be a year, at which time she could obtain her divorce.

  At first the snow covered the ground in patches, but it wasn’t long before it blanketed everything in sight. Maddy could feel the vehicle climbing and the pressure in her ears beginning to build, and knew she was getting closer to her destination. Nevertheless, she drove slowly and took great care with the curves. The Jeep felt heavy on the winding road. She probably could have done with fewer canned goods, not to mention all those heavy library books she carried with her. She imagined herself reading in front of a roaring fire while her dogs rested at her feet. She chuckled softly as she tried to imagine her dogs at her feet. Not a chance. They’d insist on being right up in the chair with her. At least the roaring-fire part of her fantasy would be possible. She’d covered herself by bringing wood from home, just in case someone had helped themselves to what was stacked in the small shed behind the cabin.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Maddy came to the turnoff. The snow was blinding by now, but her windshield wipers worked overtime, so she could see, if only for a very short distance.
She passed a couple of cabins, both unoccupied.

  Maddy shivered. It suddenly occurred to her that she might be the only one staying on the mountain now that a winter storm was in full swing. Perhaps she should have heeded the warning, or at least told somebody where she was going. She could feel herself growing tense. She knew from past experience that her cell phone would be of no use.

  Had it always been so dark in the mountains at night?

  It was at times like this that she wished she’d chosen a snarling Doberman for a pet instead of two wimpy dachshunds who were afraid of their own shadows. They might make good lapdogs, but they weren’t worth a cuss in the protection department.

  Maddy spied the cabin straight ahead and was glad to have the trip behind her. Well, almost. She still had to unload the car—not an easy task with the snow coming down so hard. Perhaps she’d unpack just the perishable food and leave the rest till daylight. Not that anything was likely to spoil in this weather. All she really needed was the bag of dog food. She’d build a fire, soak in a hot bath, maybe read for an hour, and call it a night.

  Maddy struggled to stay in the center of the road, but it was impossible to determine exactly where the center was, since there were no tracks. Obviously, it had been snowing for some time in the higher elevations. She crept along, watching for where the road curved into an S. She tried to make out a pattern from the way the weeds clumped together along the side of the road, but with the night casting everything deep in shadow, and the snow whirling about like a tempest, it was impossible to see. Suddenly her Jeep slid on a patch of ice. Maddy reacted too fast. She slammed on the brakes, causing the Jeep to fishtail.

  The dachshunds shot up in a flash and began barking in unison as she frantically fought to stay on the road. She knew there were rules on how to correct a skid, because Michael had preached them to her over and over each time they had made the trip to the cabin. But at the moment she didn’t have the first clue how to right the Jeep, and her struggles had the car sliding from side to side like some wild carnival ride. Then she felt the back of the vehicle drop off the road.

  The engine died.

  The barking grew louder.

  Maddy leaned her head down on the wheel and told herself not to cry.

  ##

  Michael was glad he’d taken the time to put chains on his tires, because the roads were hazardous and the snow blinding. Winter storms of this magnitude usually didn’t hit the mountains until New Year’s. He hoped other motorists had taken the weatherman’s advice. He felt silly now for ignoring it; all he could hope for was that the snow would taper off before too long.

  Mother Nature wasn’t cooperating, though.

  Michael braked as he came to a curve. Warning signs flashed from the side of the highway, and he would have turned around if it hadn’t been farther to go back down the mountain than up it. He was surprised the state troopers weren’t blocking off roads and turning people away, even those with chains on their tires. He wondered if he was making a huge mistake. As the wind shook his car and whipped the snow into a frenzy, Michael hoped he wouldn’t live to regret his decision to get away for a while.

  He wasn’t going to worry. That’s the sort of thing that worked against his blood pressure. Beginning now, he was going to learn to relax. Live for today, let tomorrow take care of itself. It wouldn’t be easy, especially for someone like him, who’d learned early in life the importance of planning ahead. Even as a child, he’d known what he wanted out of life. More importantly, he’d known what he didn't want: the hand-to-mouth existence his parents had endured for as long as he could remember.

  Michael pushed the thoughts aside. There he was, worrying for no reason, when he knew damn good and well it wasn’t good for him. He shoved a CD into the player, and the car filled with soothing classical music. He let the music carry him to the top of the mountain. He was feeling content, at peace with himself and the rest of the world by the time he reached the turnoff to the cabin.

  That peace and tranquility was shattered the minute he spied the bright red Jeep Cherokee, with its back tires buried in snow. He didn’t have to read the “Fit is Fun” tag on the front to know it belonged to Maddy.

  ##

  Maddy had never been so cold in her life, despite the layers of blankets piled on the bed and her dogs snuggled on either side, offering all their body heat. She wore a blue-green pajama shirt that had belonged to Michael, but a thorough search of dresser drawers hadn’t turned up the bottoms. In fact, there wasn’t much left in the way of clothes, and her own things were stranded with her car, at least a thousand yards from the cabin.

  She sighed. This was going to be a crummy Thanksgiving after all, crummier even than those she’d known as a child. She wished she could kick Dr. Quigley’s behind for suggesting she come there. She could stand a little pity from her friends at the moment.

  What if … what if it snowed so deep she couldn’t reach the Jeep? Lord, the possibility of such a tragedy sent her pulse racing. With only three cans of Vienna sausage—no, two cans now that she’d fed one to the dogs—they wouldn’t last long if they couldn’t get to the food she’d brought with her.

  Her dogs.

  She would have to pretend everything was okay. If they suspected she was upset, they would become troubled as well. Poor little Muffin, who was so tiny to begin with, would refuse to eat, and Rambo, devil that he was, would start chewing on the furniture.

  She’d have to put on a brave front.

  She shivered again and wished she had some wood so she could build a fire. Wasn’t it just her luck that the roof of the shed had caved in from all the snow? What wood was left was wet and buried beneath an avalanche. She’d managed to pull several logs from the pile, but they’d been soaked through. She couldn’t have gotten them to burn with a blowtorch.

  Maddy had no choice but to wait until morning to try to make it to her car. She was liable to break her leg out there tonight, and then where would she be? Thankfully, there were a couple of pairs of wading boots in the utility room. She figured they’d work just as well in snow as they did in water. Until then, the three of them would have to stick close. She huddled more deeply beneath the covers, and her dogs snuggled closer. The furry little beasts hadn’t had the least bit of trouble falling asleep, she thought, listening to their snores.

  She shouldn’t have read that detective magazine, but it was all that was left in the way of reading material. The books she had brought with her were in her Jeep. Now she was not only cold, she was scared half out of her wits thinking about the so-called Hapless Motorist Rapist she’d read about in the magazine. He appealed to women’s charitable natures by pretending there was some great emergency and that he was in desperate need of a phone. He even wore clothes that appeared to be blood-soaked. Once the unsuspecting female let him in, she was his.

  Maddy felt about for the metal handle on the fire poker she’d carried into the bedroom for protection. She might be something of a fraidy cat, but she was strong and fit.

  No man was going to come inside her cabin unless she invited him. Besides, she didn’t have a telephone, so he couldn’t very well use that excuse.

  Maddy drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened a few minutes later by a noise. Startled, she sat up in bed and listened. Sounded like a car. No, surely not. No one in his right mind would be out on a night like this.

  No one in his right mind—comforting thought.

  She scrambled from beneath the blankets while at the same time searching frantically for the poker. It had become tangled in the covers. Her dogs woke, sensing trouble, because they shot out of their burrow, yelping wildly. Maddy tried to hush them, but it was useless. She only wished their barks sounded a little more deadly.

  Poker in hand, she stumbled to the window on wobbly legs. Lord, but she was a coward. From now on she wouldn’t allow herself to read anything darker than the Sunday comics.

  She peered outside. There were headlights shining in the drive. Perhaps it w
asn’t a deranged killer after all. It might be a state trooper coming to check on her, make sure she was okay. Or maybe it was a rescue unit, carrying food and supplies. Wouldn’t a taco salad hit the spot about now? She tried to see past the curtain of snow. As the vehicle drew closer she focused her gaze on the roof of it. A feeling of dread washed over her. There was no siren on top. That could only mean one thing.

  It was the killer.

  ##

  Maddy tried to think, but fear clogged her brain. She could grab the dogs and make a run for it out the back door, but they’d freeze to death in a matter of minutes. Unless they could circle back and head down the road to one of the vacant cabins, where she might find dry firewood. No, that wouldn’t work. There was no way she’d be able to carry both dogs and a flashlight down the mountain in all that snow, especially with Rambo, the male, weighing sixteen pounds to Muffin’s nine.

  The car was just outside now. She’d wasted precious time standing there like a dumb statue and hadn’t accomplished a thing. It was time to act. She raced from the room, taking time only to close the door behind her. She heard the dogs scratching and yelping before she cleared the hallway.

  Suddenly there was pounding at the door. Maddy froze. Her heart thumped like a big drum. The doorknob rattled. He was trying to break in. She strongly suspected it was a man; women seldom became serial killers. Maddy mustered the courage to move closer. The next sound she heard was a key being inserted into the lock.

  Panic seized her.

  Wasn’t it just her luck? The killer had a skeleton key to her cabin.

  Quickly now, she flattened herself against the wall beside the door, gripped the poker with both hands, and raised it high over her head.

  The lock clicked, and the door swung open, creaking like something out of a horror movie. The psycho had left his headlights burning, and she could barely make out the silhouette of a tall man with sweeping shoulders. Without a word, he stepped inside. Maddy brought the poker down on his head. She winced as it made contact with his skull. He gasped, staggered away from the door, and fell into the snow.