Love’s Redemption

by Donna K. Ford

  “Here are some clothes for you to wear. Just leave yours on the floor, and I’ll wash them with mine. Come to the kitchen when you’re done. The coffee should be ready by then.”

  Morgan shut the bathroom door and hurried down the hall. What was she doing? She’d felt Rhea’s gaze on her body as clear as if she’d been touched. She’d been aroused, and oh God, she couldn’t believe she’d tried to undress Rhea. The poor woman had looked terrified. What was happening to her? Had the cold done something to her head? Morgan bowed her head. Dear Father, please help me. Give me strength and show me the way.

  Morgan put the coffee on to brew and sat at the island. Once she stopped moving she realized how tired and hungry she was. Breakfast was a good idea.

  Rhea walked into the kitchen, her hair still wet, and her skin pink from the heat of the shower. Her feet were bare, and the sweats Morgan had given her were a bit too big for her small frame. The T-shirt was too big too, and Morgan’s eyes were drawn to a line of muscle along Rhea’s neck that trailed down to a prominent collarbone. She imagined the feel of the tense muscle under her mouth.

  Morgan glanced away. “Feel better?” she asked.

  Rhea returned the smile but looked nervous, as if she didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin.

  “I thought we could use something to eat. I know you didn’t get breakfast.”

  “You don’t have to go to any trouble,” Rhea said.

  Morgan could tell Rhea was uncomfortable, and she thought she knew why. They’d been working together for weeks now, and just when she thought they were getting used to each other, Rhea would pull away again. After she had practically mauled her, she couldn’t blame Rhea for being distant. She hadn’t meant to, but she had crossed a line.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

  Rhea put her hands on the counter and looked down as if she was studying the pattern of the granite. When she looked up there was none of the usual distrust or defensiveness that kept everyone at a distance. At that moment Rhea was completely open and exposed. She trembled.

  Morgan’s hand closed over hers, and she flinched but didn’t move her hand away this time. She needed Morgan to understand her. “It hurts.”

  Morgan swallowed and tightened her fingers around Rhea’s hand. “Did I hurt you? Rhea, you have to forgive me. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Rhea shook her head. “No. You didn’t hurt me.” She took a deep breath and tried to figure out how she was supposed to explain something she didn’t understand herself.

  “What hurts, Rhea?”

  Rhea moved her thumb across the back of Morgan’s hand. “Touch. When someone touches me, it hurts. It’s as if my skin remembers the pain and every time someone touches me, it hurts.”

  Morgan looked confused.

  How could she make Morgan understand what she was talking about? Maybe she should leave it alone, but she couldn’t stand the look of fear she’d seen in Morgan’s eyes when she’d pushed her away. She needed Morgan to know she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  To her relief Morgan spoke first.

  “So, my hand on yours right now is hurting you?”

  Rhea nodded slowly as if the movement was a whisper. She was afraid of what Morgan would think of her. “It isn’t pain like hitting your thumb with a hammer or getting a cut. The pain is inside. You touch my hand and it’s like the nerve endings light up and the pain sparks under my fingernails, in my elbows, down my spine, and it radiates all over. Soft touch or repetitive touch is the worst. It’s like nails on a chalkboard, only I feel it on my bones.”

  Morgan stared at their linked hands as if expecting to see an injury there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Morgan started to move her hand away, but Rhea closed her fingers around it in a subtle request that she stay. Morgan squeezed back, amazed by the softness of Rhea’s touch.

  “I didn’t want you to think it was you. I barged in on you when I shouldn’t have, and then I pushed you away when you tried to help me. You must think I’m crazy.”

  Morgan’s mouth had gone dry, and she ran the tip of her tongue across her lips as disbelief and anger swelled in her heart. How could someone have hurt Rhea this way? She wanted to do something, anything to take the wounded look from Rhea’s eyes.

  “What happened to you? What caused this?”

  Rhea shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s a story you want to hear.”

  “I do,” Morgan answered. “You can talk to me. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

  Rhea sighed. “My therapist told me that physical trauma can leave flesh memories and because of my past my skin is hypersensitive to touch. It’s like a defense mechanism, kind of a weird fight-or-flight response.”

  Morgan swallowed as a new wave of grief swept over her. She wanted to understand, and something told her Rhea needed that too. “So all touch hurts you?”

  “As far as I know, yes. Some places are more sensitive than others, but I’m always aware that it’s there.”

  “That’s so sad,” Morgan whispered.

  “Most of the time it isn’t an issue. I just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t be afraid of me.”

  For the first time in weeks, Morgan was reminded of the reason Rhea was there. She still didn’t know much about what Rhea had done, but she was beginning to understand that there were horrors in Rhea’s past she couldn’t begin to imagine.

  “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine this is easy for you to talk about.”

  Rhea let out a long breath. “It isn’t easy to explain a lot of things.”

  Morgan waited and hoped Rhea would tell her more, but she could see Rhea had gone as far as she was willing. Morgan gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait another minute for that coffee.”

  Morgan turned back to Rhea with two steaming cups and was disappointed that Rhea had retreated to the other side of the island, her expression once again closed. “Thank you for everything you did this morning. I would have lost the calf without your help. I’m really glad you’re here.”

  Rhea smiled. “You’re a little crazy, you know.”

  Morgan laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

  Rhea pursed her lips before a mischievous smile curled the corners of her mouth, and Morgan felt some of the tension pressing in on her heart ease.

  “I guess that makes us quite the team then.”

  Morgan lifted her coffee to her lips and smiled at Rhea over the cup. “I guess it does.” She considered the statement and was pleased to realize it was true. It was nice to have someone to rely on. It was nice not to be alone.

  *

  Rhea lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about Morgan. She’d been thinking about her ever since she’d walked in on her in the shower that morning, and she didn’t understand why. She’d seen women naked in the shower before. It had been almost a daily occurrence in high school after gym class, and then in prison there was never any privacy for anything. But she’d never looked at a woman the way she’d looked at Morgan.

  Morgan’s body was hard with long lean muscle, carved sharp edges along her arms and thighs. Her stomach was flat and rigid with cords of muscle that rippled when she moved. Rhea hadn’t been able to look away from the gentle curves of Morgan’s hips or the soft swell of her breasts. Her brain had yelled for her to run, but her body refused to move, as if she was frozen in a dream. It hadn’t been until Morgan touched her that she’d snapped awake, and the old instinct to flee made her push Morgan away.

  Morgan hadn’t been threatening. She’d been trying to take care of her. Rhea remembered the way Morgan’s nipples had hardened under her gaze and her stomach tightened and tension grew until a dull ache throbbed between her legs. She pushed herself to get up. She needed to do something to get her mind off Morgan and the aching loneliness she felt.

  Rhea went into the bathro
om and looked at herself in the mirror. She studied the differences in her body compared to Morgan’s. Morgan was taller with broad shoulders, a thin waist, and narrow hips. Rhea took off her clothes and studied herself. She had never really looked at herself before. Morgan’s stomach had been hard with ripples of muscle that bunched when she moved. Rhea prodded her own stomach with her finger, surprised by the tightness under the soft layer of tissue. Her arms were sculpted with generous mounds of muscle but not the chiseled lines that clearly defined Morgan’s arms.

  She studied her breasts and frowned. They were fuller and heavier than Morgan’s had been. The image of Morgan’s nipples repeated in her memory and the ache in her loins came again. Rhea brushed her fingers lightly over her breasts and imagined Morgan’s hands touching her. Her nipples hardened instantly and she gasped at the charge of hunger that suddenly erupted within her.

  “No. This can’t be happening.” Rhea grabbed her clothes from the floor and dressed quickly. Her boots were still wet, so she slid into the tennis shoes she’d been given when she was released from prison. She had to get out and clear her head. She was clearly confused by everything that had happened over the last few weeks and needed to get her head straight.

  She slammed the door on her way out, grabbed the porch rail, and swung herself over. She hit the ground at a full run, determined to burn the memory of Morgan’s body out of hers.

  *

  Morgan looked up from the drafting table and the drawings she had been studying when she heard the bell above the door chime. She groaned playfully when she saw J.J. walking toward her.

  “What did I do this time?”

  J.J. laughed. “Can’t you just be happy to see me?”

  “No. I wouldn’t want you to think I like you,” Morgan teased.

  “You love me and you know it.”

  Morgan wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at her sister.

  J.J. laughed. “How are things going with Rhea?”

  Morgan tossed her pencil onto the table and leaned back in her chair, folding her long arms over her head. “Things are good. She’s been a big help.”

  J.J.’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. What did you expect?”

  “Nothing. It just isn’t like you to admit that I was right.”

  Morgan smiled. “Yeah, well this time is different. Rhea has been great. I’m glad she’s here.”

  J.J. shifted and began to fidget with her fingernails. Morgan recognized when her sister was avoiding something and braced herself for what was coming next. “Spit it out, J.J.”

  J.J. sighed. “How are you doing?”

  Morgan tensed. She knew where this was going. “I already told you, things are good.”

  “I’m not talking about Rhea, I’m asking about you.”

  It was clear what J.J. was getting at, and she didn’t want to have this conversation again. “I said, I’m fine. I don’t have to be a part of the church to be okay. I have a lot of other work to do.”

  J.J. frowned. “I know you stay busy, and I know you still do a lot for the community, I just don’t know if you take time to take care of yourself. You still don’t come around, and we miss you.”

  “What do you want from me, J.J.?”

  J.J. sighed. “I just want to know you’re okay. What happened with Ashley was—”

  Morgan put her hands up. “Stop.”

  “Come on, Morgan. Talk to me.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. She’s gone. I’ve moved on the only way I know how. What do you expect from me?”

  J.J. took a step closer. Morgan couldn’t stand the pity in her eyes when she looked up at her.

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just don’t want you to feel you have to do this alone. We still love you. I miss having my little sister around.”

  “I love you too, but the Ashley issue is off the table. I don’t want to talk about it. Everyone wants me to move on, but no one wants to let it go.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry. I just never see you and I worry.”

  Morgan shook her head. She couldn’t stay mad at J.J., and having her apologize only brought more guilt. J.J. was just worried about her, and she hadn’t given her any reason not to be. “Thanks for looking out for me. I promise I’ll come to you if I need anything, but I really am okay.”

  J.J. smiled. “Sure.” She took a step back and looked around the studio. “The place looks better.”

  Morgan nodded. “I have a lot more time to work now that Rhea has taken over some of the other duties.”

  “Is she around? I need to do a home check while I’m here.”

  “Aha, I knew you didn’t drive all the way out here just to see me.”

  J.J. put her hands on her hips the way she used to do when they were kids, signaling a lecture was on the way. “Let’s just say two reasons to drive out to the middle of nowhere is good motivation.” J.J. paused. “Besides, this way I get paid mileage.”

  Morgan laughed. “That’s more like it.”

  “So, where do you think I can find her?”

  “My guess is the workshop. Turns out she has a knack for restoring old tractors. She’s been working on the old International Harvester Farmall I had stuck in the back.”

  J.J. eyed her suspiciously. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  “Sure. It was a little rough at first, but things are great now. I enjoy having her here. She’s a hard worker and keeps to herself. What’s not to like?”

  J.J. stared at her as if she was studying a puzzle.

  “What?”

  J.J. shook her head. “Nothing. I just thought of something.” J.J. waved Morgan off. “It’s nothing. Do you mind if I go see Rhea for a while?”

  “No. Go ahead.” Morgan could see J.J. was concerned, and she regretted the months she had pushed her family away. “Hey,” Morgan called out before J.J. closed the door, “would you like to stay for dinner?”

  J.J. smiled. “Sure. That sounds great. Thanks.” She tossed a wave in the air on her way out the door. “I’ll catch up to you when I’m done.”

  Morgan smiled. She hadn’t expected the church to turn on her, and she hadn’t expected to lose Ashley. For a long time she had shut down and wasn’t sure she would make it through. But J.J. hadn’t given up on her, and it was time she started being a part of this family again.

  Chapter Seven

  One day tumbled into the next and before she knew it, it was late March and Rhea had been at Morgan’s farm for two months. They had fallen into an easy routine. Rhea took care of the repairs and looked after the farm while Morgan worked in her studio and did the farrier work. So Rhea was surprised when Morgan asked her to go on a home call.

  Rhea climbed into the truck and shut the door with a resounding thud. “Where are we going?”

  Morgan started the truck and smiled. “Road trip.”

  “Yeah, which hat are you wearing today, farrier or artist?”

  “Actually, today is your job. I got a call from a farmer friend about a 1947 Ford 8N. He’s had it stored in an old barn for the last thirty years and wants to restore it. If it looks good, you’ll have enough work to get you through till the summer business picks up.”

  Rhea was shocked. The work on the Harvester had gone well, but she hadn’t expected to take on tractor restoration as a full-time job.

  “Are you sure about this? I mean, this could be a complete rebuild. I’ve never done one. What if I can’t do it?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Let’s just give it a look. If it’s something you don’t want to do, we’ll pass on it. But if you like it, I’d like to take it on.”

  “Wait, you’re going to leave this up to me?”

  Morgan laughed. “Of course. I wouldn’t ask you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. You know what you can handle better than I do. But for the record, I think you can do it.”

  Rhea thought about what Morgan was saying. She understood the logic, but she was un
comfortable with Morgan counting on her to do this. What if she screwed it up? She didn’t want to disappoint Morgan. “What if I decide to move on before the job’s done? What then?”

  Morgan frowned. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that. Are you planning on going somewhere?”

  Rhea shook her head. “No, but that’s a long time and things can change. Are you planning on keeping me around?”

  Morgan drew in a sharp breath as if something had pained her. “I guess I was. I thought we had a deal. I thought things were working out.”

  Rhea wanted to believe Morgan meant what she said. She wanted to stay. The time on Morgan’s farm was the only time in her life she’d felt safe, like her life was her own.

  “Yeah, I like it here. But sometimes things change and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Morgan’s mood shifted as quickly as the change of the wind. Rhea recognized the look of pain in the lines of Morgan’s mouth and heard it in her silence, as thick as morning fog.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a spoilsport. I guess I’m not used to the way you treat me. I get a little defensive when I start to think I owe someone something.”

  “No. You’re right. Sometimes things do change, people leave. But that doesn’t mean we stop moving forward, making plans, and taking risks.”

  “Did she leave you?” Rhea asked without thinking.

  “Who?”

  “Your girlfriend.”

  Morgan gasped.

  Rhea waited, but Morgan didn’t answer and she wouldn’t look at her. Her skin had gone pale and she tugged at her lower lip with her teeth.

  Rhea was about to give up when Morgan answered. “Her name was Ashley. And yes, you can say she left. She died.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry.” Rhea didn’t know what to say next. She had opened Morgan’s wound and was watching her bleed. Why had she done that? She’d learned to see people’s weaknesses in prison, but she hadn’t meant to hurt Morgan. She just wanted to know why she was so different. Hell, most of the time she didn’t even know how to relate to Morgan. Morgan was good. The kind of good Rhea thought only existed in fairy tales and children’s stories. Pain was something she could relate to, and she realized now she had jumped on the question to cover her own insecurity. But hearing Morgan’s sadness was different than listening to the stories in prison. She felt sad when she saw Morgan hurt. What touched Morgan somehow touched her too.