Love’s Redemption

by Donna K. Ford

  Rhea studied everything Morgan pointed out to her. She was eager to please and wanted to earn her place. She wasn’t looking for a handout, and just because Morgan had been generous up until now, didn’t mean she didn’t have a price.

  The farmwork was pretty routine and she could handle the chores, but it wasn’t her favorite work and reminded her too much of home. Home. The word didn’t fit, but she didn’t know any other word to describe the place where she grew up. Home, family, trust, honor…those were all words that didn’t belong in her world.

  The small engine shop was where she was most comfortable, but it only took a quick look around the place to see Morgan didn’t focus too much attention there. The small shop was no bigger than three horse stalls wide, and the place was a total wreck. Tools lay willy-nilly around the room as if forgotten wherever they were last used. Oil stains and dirt marred the floor and the place reeked of gasoline and oil. If she was going to work in here, things would have to change, and that meant a lot of cleaning.

  Rhea ran her finger through a sticky glob of goo on the worktable and made a face.

  “What?” Morgan asked.

  “I take it this is one of those areas where you don’t enjoy your work.”

  Morgan glanced around the room as if unaware of the chaos in front of her. Rhea was certain this wasn’t normal for Morgan. Everything else she’d seen around Morgan said she was a woman of routine and order, but not this room.

  Rhea picked up an oil-stained rag and held it out to Morgan. “Looks like you’re trying to burn the place down. I didn’t peg you as a firebug.”

  She meant the statement as a joke, but the glimmer in Morgan’s eyes dimmed and her smile faded.

  “No, of course not, I would never—”

  “Relax, Morgan. It was a joke.”

  Morgan didn’t have to say anything. Her reaction was all Rhea needed to be reminded that she was the ex-con and that was exactly how Morgan saw her.

  “You’re right. I don’t particularly like the mechanic stuff, but it pays the bills.”

  “Okay.” Rhea pushed on. “I can help you out in here, but I’d like to clean things up a little.”

  Morgan shrugged. “It’s all yours. You know what you’re doing?”

  Rhea squared her shoulders. She figured Morgan was going to flinch away every time she mentioned prison, but she learned a long time ago not to run from someone else’s fear. Rhea had worked hard to earn her tech certificate in the vocational classes she was offered in prison and she was proud of her skills.

  “Yeah. I know what I’m doing.”

  “All right then. We’ll work on these later and see what you can do. We have one more stop to make.”

  Rhea followed Morgan to a building closer to the house that looked like an old general store. Antique metal signs were nailed to the front of the building advertising Phillips 66, Castrol Oil, and Coca Cola. Rhea stopped and ran her fingers along the rough iron gates that guarded the large wood doors. The metal had been worked into the pattern of wild ivy so delicate that it was as if it would come to life at any moment and wind its way around her hand.

  Morgan slid a key into the lock and pulled the gates open. She held her breath as Rhea studied her work. It was like this every time someone saw her studio for the first time. It was like having her life, her emotions, the essence of her soul on display, and she waited with bated breath for judgment to be passed.

  Rhea stepped inside and walked around the room. She brushed her fingers lightly against the metal statues and studied every detail of the curves and welds that made each piece unique. She turned to Morgan, her eyes bright and unguarded.

  Morgan’s heart stopped. Rhea looked so innocent, like a child discovering something new in her world. The stern crease in her brow was now smooth, giving Morgan a glimpse at her youth. The tension usually present in her body softened, and in that moment Morgan felt like time stopped. She held her breath and hoped Rhea understood her work was more than cold metal.

  Rhea spread her hands out at her sides and gestured around the room. “You did all this?”

  Morgan nodded, still speechless. She was awestruck at the glimpse of the tender side of Rhea and the person Rhea could have been if she had made different choices.

  “These are incredible.”

  “I’m glad you like them.” Morgan didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to do anything to lose this moment. She didn’t know what it meant, but there was something special in the unguarded smile creasing the corners of Rhea’s lips. Morgan felt as if she’d been given a gift. She was confused about why it mattered so much, but it just felt good.

  “I’m a blacksmith. Most of my work is with metal.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this. So if I take on more of the chores and the small-engine work, that’ll give you more time to do this stuff, right?”

  Morgan nodded.

  “All right then.” Rhea glanced out the door. “Before we get started, can we get my Jeep out?”

  Morgan nodded again. “Sure. I’ll get the chainsaw.”

  Rhea stepped outside and Morgan was relieved and disappointed that they were moving on to less personal business. She would never get used to showing someone her work for the first time, but she was always grateful once she had. Rhea was no exception, but Rhea had made her feel like her work was special. Rhea had no expectations to blur her vision and impression of the art, and her expression had said everything Morgan needed to hear. A needling warning reminded her to keep her distance. Rhea might seem harmless, but Morgan already knew better. She’d learned the hard way that people didn’t change, and once a line had been crossed it was easier to cross the second time. And she couldn’t afford any more betrayal or disappointment in her life.

  *

  Morgan wielded the chainsaw like it was a butter knife as she cut through the gnarled branches of the old pine with precision and what appeared to be little effort. Rhea grabbed the discarded limbs as soon as they broke free and moved them to a pile in the back of Morgan’s truck. Once the road was clear, Morgan shut off the chainsaw and stowed it in the truck. Rhea watched her move around the Jeep, surveying the damage.

  “Your Jeep’s in remarkable condition for its age. It looks like it could have been driven off the lot yesterday.”

  Rhea shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, it was kind of stored for me while I was away.”

  Morgan looked away. “Well, it’s a nice one.”

  “Thanks,” Rhea said, not missing the slight stiffening in Morgan’s shoulders. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t think it’s stuck too bad. You’re not on your side and all four wheels have contact. Let’s try four-wheel drive first and see if she’ll drive out.”

  Rhea hesitated. “Do you want to do it? I’m still getting the hang of driving.”

  Morgan stared at her as if considering something. “No, you go ahead. You can do it. All you have to do is take it slow.”

  Rhea climbed into the Jeep through the passenger door and slid into the driver’s seat. She put the key in the ignition and took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking, and she was certain she was about to make a complete fool out of herself. She pushed in the clutch, put her foot on the brake, and held her breath as she started the ignition. So far, so good. She adjusted the lever to put the Jeep in four-wheel drive and sighed when a symbol appeared on the dash showing the four-wheel drive was engaged.

  “Nice and easy now,” Morgan said, a few feet in front of the Jeep.

  Rhea let out on the clutch a little too quickly and her heart jumped when the Jeep lurched forward and died.

  “It’s okay. Just take your time and feel the clutch engage,” Morgan encouraged.

  Rhea sighed and shook out her hands. This time she did as Morgan said and felt the slight pull when the clutch engaged, and she let off the brake and gave it a little gas. The Jeep shifted and started to move forward.

  “Start to turn the wheel to the right,” Morgan instructed.


  Rhea was more riveted to Morgan’s instructions than to the road ahead of her. Morgan’s encouragement began to bolster her courage and she was almost excited. The Jeep climbed out of the ditch with little effort and a moment later she was on the road again. Rhea was elated. She’d done it.

  “Great job,” Morgan exclaimed and patted the side of the Jeep. “I knew you could do it.”

  Rhea rolled down the window. “Thanks for that. That was awesome.”

  Morgan flashed Rhea a full toothy smile. It was the first time Rhea had seen her smile since they’d met, and it was as if the sun had broken free of clouds. Rhea liked the smile and the idea that she had somehow been its cause.

  “Doesn’t look like there’s any damage. Let’s get her up to the house and take a look.”

  Rhea nodded. She waited for Morgan to get in her truck and followed her to the farm.

  Morgan motioned for her to pull into an open area next to her as she stepped out of the truck, still smiling. “Come inside, it’s time for lunch.”

  Morgan hadn’t put it as a question, so Rhea followed her inside, careful to remove her boots at the door this time.

  “I didn’t ask how you slept last night. Was everything okay with the cabin?”

  “Sure, everything was fine.” Rhea would have thought anything was better than prison or her mother’s barn.

  “It still needs some work, but like I said last night, I wasn’t expecting you till next week. The windows still need to be resealed, and a few glass panes need to be replaced, and I was going to check out that old General Electric refrigerator. It’s been in there since the 1950s and I haven’t had a chance to make sure it’s working properly.”

  “No problem. I think I can do most of that myself. If I need some help I’ll let you know.” Rhea stood at the counter uncertain what she should do next. “What do you need me to do?”

  Morgan nodded to a cabinet above Rhea’s head. “You can get out the glasses and pour the tea. I’ll have these sandwiches ready in a minute. I hope you don’t mind tuna fish sandwiches.”

  Rhea’s stomach rumbled. “No. That’s great, thanks.”

  A couple minutes later, Morgan settled on a stool in front of Rhea and picked up her sandwich. “So, what do you think of the work so far? Thought of what you want to do?”

  Rhea was grateful for the easygoing conversation. She knew Morgan had been less than happy she’d shown up at her door last night, and she didn’t seem too thrilled to see her this morning either. But both times Morgan had warmed up to her after a while and had a way of making Rhea feel at ease.

  “I’d like to do the small-engine work, if you don’t mind. I can help out with feeding and cleaning up and I’m pretty handy with a hammer and nails. I noticed you needed some repairs as we walked through today. Of course anything else you want me to do is fine too.”

  Morgan smiled. “That sounds like a great place to start. I probably won’t be around much. I’m usually out on a farm call or working in the studio. I wander around the farm at all hours of the day and night, so don’t think anything of it. I like to work when the mood hits me, so that pretty much means you set your own hours. I don’t care when you work as long as the work gets done and the animals are well cared for.”

  Rhea nodded in understanding. Morgan was giving her room to prove or disprove herself and maybe even hinting at her need for space. “Not a problem.”

  “Good,” Morgan said, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “Now eat up. I want to see what you can do with those lawn mowers before the day is out.”

  Rhea smiled and took a huge bite, filling her mouth until her cheeks bulged.

  Morgan laughed. “I said eat your food, not inhale it.”

  Rhea took a drink of her tea and finished her food. So far she was having a great day. It was the first time she’d smiled in forever and Morgan was good company. Rhea drew in a deep breath, suddenly filled with a fierce desire to prove herself to Morgan. She could get used to a life like this, and she didn’t want to do anything to mess that up.

  *

  Rhea carried the last of the iron and steel in from the truck and stacked it in the room where Morgan showed her she did her welding. Morgan was in the studio putting together an order for a client and had left Rhea to work alone. Lost in her work, she was startled by the chug of a diesel engine that came to rest outside the studio. Rhea went to the door and watched Morgan walk to the entrance just as the truck door slammed shut. A bull of a man with a round bald head and caterpillar eyebrows stomped up to Morgan. His scowl left no doubt of his disposition. His left cheek bulged with the full plug of tobacco clenched between his cheek and teeth. He stopped at the door and spat at Morgan’s feet.

  “Hello, Jeff. What can I do for you today?”

  Rhea stepped closer so she could see the man more clearly. The instant he moved into view, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Whatever this guy wanted, he wasn’t selling Girl Scout cookies.

  “You got those gate latches ready for the Miller barn?”

  Morgan nodded. “I do. Come on in and I’ll get the bill.”

  Rhea slid behind a sculpture of a large grasshopper as Jeff walked through the studio. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want him to know she was there. She had the urge to run out the door while he waited for Morgan, but the big man turned and spotted her before she could get away.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Rhea clenched her teeth and glared at him.

  “Jeff, what would your momma say if she saw you being rude like that?” Morgan said.

  The big man cut his eyes back to Morgan and sneered. “I reckon she’d be damned disappointed I talk to the likes of you at all, Morgan, but this job left me no choice. Get those damned latches so I can get the hell outta here. I’ve no interest in you or your little skank.”

  Rhea growled and took a step toward the man.

  “Rhea,” Morgan called, “would you mind going into the back there and getting that crate off the bench? It’ll be marked with a horseshoe.”

  Rhea took a deep breath and did what she was asked. She wasn’t used to backing down from anyone, and she didn’t like how this guy talked to Morgan, but the last thing she needed was to get fired or, even worse, get a parole violation.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll do that.”

  Rhea didn’t want to leave Morgan alone with this creep, but Morgan seemed unfazed. She scanned the room and located the box Morgan wanted and hurried back out. She expected the guy to get his stuff and go, but Morgan opened the crate and unpacked every item. She inspected each piece in front of the big man.

  “Any problems, Jeff? I wouldn’t want you to find issue with any of the pieces once you get back to the site.”

  Rhea gave up a silent cheer and congratulations to Morgan in her cunning. Obviously Morgan was used to dealing with him and had anticipated a problem.

  “They’re fine,” he grumbled.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re pleased. Now if you’ll sign this, stating everything is in order, we can settle up.”

  “You trying to accuse me of something?” The big man leaned across the counter in an obvious attempt to intimidate Morgan.

  Morgan smiled. “Of course not. I know that sometimes things happen during transport, and I just want it to be clear I’m not responsible for damage once an item has been picked up. I’m sure you understand that, Jeff.” Morgan handed him a pen.

  Jeff snatched the pen from Morgan’s hand and signed the paper. He grabbed the box and stormed out.

  “What a jerk,” Rhea said, relieved to hear the truck pull away outside.

  Morgan sighed. “He isn’t a very nice man, I agree.”

  “Why were you so nice to him when he talked to you that way?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Why would I rise to his anger? I choose not to be a part of his hate.”

  Rhea glanced toward the door. “I wanted to clobber him.”

  “Violence isn’t the answer,” Morgan said and turned
to face Rhea. “His hate and anger are consuming him and I have no interest in adding to his pain. It’s my choice whether I let his anger become my problem.”

  Morgan walked out without another word. Rhea scrambled to figure out what had just happened. What did she mean add to his pain? Surely Morgan wasn’t that soft. If so, she was certainly in for a world of grief. People would be lined up outside her door, waiting to take a piece of her. But not Rhea. She wasn’t afraid of a fight and she was nobody’s doormat.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan stopped her ATV along the fence line at the back of her property and peered through the morning mist. She watched Rhea run along the ridge in the distance, her stride determined and strong. She reminded Morgan of a young deer reveling in the birth of a new day. Sadness fell across her like the dark clouds of a stormy night when she imagined Rhea locked away in a prison, unable to see the sun, unable to run free across the fields.

  She hadn’t seen Rhea in three days. The incident with Jeff had upset Morgan more than she had realized, and since then she’d been avoiding Rhea. She’d been pushing Rhea away, punishing her for things that had nothing to do with that day in the studio. Morgan watched Rhea disappear over the ridge and regret crawled across her skin like hot metal dipped in water. She gave Rhea a little time before she followed the fence line to the cabin. To her surprise she found more than one place that had been recently mended. Rhea had been busy, and Morgan felt more than a little guilty for neglecting so many of the chores lately. She hadn’t meant for Rhea to do all the work.

  Rhea stepped out onto the porch when Morgan stopped the ATV in front of the cabin. Morgan caught her breath at the sight of Rhea in a pair of faded blue jeans worn threadbare, work boots, and an equally faded flannel shirt. Morgan allowed her gaze to trail up Rhea’s body and lingered on the soft mounds of breasts perfectly framed beneath the thin fabric. Rhea had rolled the shirtsleeves up to her elbows, exposing the pale skin and firm muscles of her forearms. She looked thinner. Morgan chastised herself. She hadn’t done a very good job helping Rhea settle into the farm. Had she even had food to eat? Morgan let out a long breath. She had taken a lot for granted with Rhea.