“So don’t talk politics. Change the subject and ask her to smoke in the well house. She wouldn’t like that either, but it is a concrete building, and she wouldn’t be visible.”
“The woman is obsessed with government. She lives, eats, and breathes it. She comes across as concerned, but let me tell you, that broad is hard as nails. She’d sell Neil Townsend down the river to save her own neck and never shed a tear.”
“Please don’t call her a broad.”
“She is a broad.”
His gruff, blustery tone disturbed Katie. The whole situation had been hard on him, and she regretted that she was the primary cause of his distress. But broad was a disrespectful term in her opinion. The whole cauldron was her fault. If she had been able to keep Clara in line, the press might not have found her so easily.
Maybe in the end, it would all work out for the good. Clara, though probably as guilty as Neil, could now finish her campaign and go home and the shelter could return to normal. The holidays were fast approaching and Katie, for one, would be glad when this whole mess was over. Everyone would be glad. Only one good thing could be said of the invasion. Clara had certainly livened up Little Bush. This was the most excitement they’d had since the high school basketball team won the state playoffs.
Needless to say, Warren was eager for his guest to check out. “It amazes me how the press plays Neil Townsend as a crooked scoundrel and Clara as Mother Teresa.”
Katie couldn’t quite picture Clara in the simple white sari Mother Teresa had adopted to identify herself with the poor. The true extent of the woman’s involvement in her husband’s activities might never be known, but Katie wouldn’t be surprised to learn in later years that she had known and probably orchestrated much of Neil’s criminal activity.
“Well, you know the media,” she said. “Anything to boost ratings.”
“You’re lucky to have kept her hidden this long. It was only a matter of time before they found her.”
“Right. Look, Warren, I know she can be a headache, but can you keep her a little longer, at least until we can arrange a way to get her away from Little Bush?”
“Katie, I’ll do it for you, but you do something for me. You think about closing that shelter. Everyone thinks I’m the bad guy, that I’m should be looking after your interests. The truth is I am looking after your interests. I care for you, Katie, and I care if you’re in danger. Your friends can accuse me of being thoughtless and heartless, but to tell you the truth, you’re all I care about. You. Not those other women. Is that a crime?”
“Of course not, and I’m flattered by your concern.”
Maybe everyone had been coming down too hard on him. He was gruff, but he was sincere in his feelings for her. He was worried about her. In spite of all his complaining, he was an old softie.
“Clara’s in touch with her people. When it’s safe to go, she’ll be gone.”
“Can’t be too soon to suit me.”
Katie grinned. With the aggravation removed, Warren would be more likely to resume what had been a tenuous but growing attraction between them.
Please, Lord. I’ve waited patiently for the right man, the manyou wanted me to have, and I sense Warren is that man. Helpme to help heal his hurts, and to show him that not all womenare devil spawns.
Though Clara Townsend must surely have reinforced his misgivings, given a chance Katie would show him how wrong he could be.
After Warren hung up, Katie checked the locks and switched off the living room lights. She’d go to bed early for a change. The past few days had sapped her energy. She looked forward to a sound night’s sleep without keeping an ear tuned for intruders.
She climbed between flannel sheets, wiggling her toes in search of warmth from the hot water bottle. Peace felt so heavenly. The women had all gone to bed early, drained by the day’s activity.
Thank you, God, that through your grace I was able to protectthem. Not one name had escaped from the shelter to the press. The women were safe. She, Katie, was safe. But Warren’s plea dwelled in her mind. How soon would another, then another incident come along that would frighten her and threaten the women’s safety?
Close the shelter, Katie.
How can I walk away from women in need, Lord? I promisedyou that I would always help whomever and whenever I could.
Close the shelter, Katie.
Is that you, Lord, or Satan speaking? Sometimes when she wanted something and felt agreement, it was hard to tell who was doing the talking.
She was too tired to argue. If Warren refused to help her, refused to work with her until she could pull out of the crisis, she would be forced to close.
Her eyes drifted shut. Tomorrow she would appeal to his compassionate side again, convince him that she could adapt, she could operate efficiently. Given enough time.
That was the key to her problem. Time.
Eighteen
During the night, Katie heard someone stirring in the house and got up to investigate. Ruth sat at the kitchen table nursing a mug of tea. She looked up when Katie approached, eyes reddened and tears dampening her cheeks. Katie took a mug from the cabinet, heated water in the microwave, and then dropped a tea bag of Sleepy Time into the cup, figuring it might help. Only when she was seated across the table from Ruth did she speak.
“Bad night?”
Ruth swiped at tears. “It’s this media circus. It has me on edge.”
Katie took a sip of tea. “It will be over soon. The election is in a couple of days, and Clara will leave. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Ruth wordlessly shook her head. “I’m just so apprehensive. My husband can’t know where I am. He just can’t.”
“And he won’t.” They sat for a minute in silence. Then Ruth glanced at Katie. “Pictures of the shelter are all over the news. It’s not a secret anymore. I’m afraid …”
“That your husband will see them and come investigate?”
Ruth nodded. “I can’t go back to him, Katie. I can’t.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I left my daughter behind because I knew if I didn’t, he’d come after me and possibly harm me and take my baby somewhere I could never find her. Right now I know where she is. As soon as I can afford a top-notch lawyer, I’ll fight to get her back. But for now I can’t let him know where I am. I know he would never hurt the baby, but he’s vindictive, and he knows that baby is my life. He’ll make sure I never see her again, and if he finds me …” She visibly shuddered.
“That’s not necessarily true. We do have courts, and no judge in his right mind would choose Bill over you to have custody of that child. And you’re forgetting about God and trusting that he has you in his sight.”
Ruth’s eyes brimmed with bright tears. “What if Bill takes her and leaves the country? It happens. You know it does.”
Katie had thought of that, and she couldn’t argue. It did happen — all too often, and the media wasn’t helping the odds.
“I can’t guarantee anything, you know that, but the shelter has never had such an occasion.”
Ruth wiped her eyes. “But there’s always a first time.”
“It’s in God’s hands, Ruth, and he knows what’s best. Trust him.” When it came down to it, what choice did they have? Believe the worst or pray for the best.
“I do trust, Katie. I know he led me here. But now all of this has come up, and it’s just not fair that we should be put in jeopardy because of Clara. She’ll be reelected and leave without a backward glance, not caring if she’s turned our lives upside down. The shelter is already in financial trouble, and I have nowhere else to go.”
Katie reached out and touched Ruth’s hand. “This isn’t a state-run shelter. It’s private, and if anything happens to Candlelight, your judge will see that you’re placed somewhere safe. I know Clara seems hard, but God can use anyone, even someone like Clara. We don’t know how this will play out. She hasn’t won the election yet, and I suspect that she’s been sent here for
a reason. I can’t know that for certain, but I have a sense about this.” She couldn’t believe that God sent trouble just to make trouble.
“You know what? This is hateful of me, but I’m not sure I want her to win.” Ruth offered a wavering smile. “We were getting along so well before she came.”
Katie grinned. “Well, she’s not here now, so let’s enjoy the peace and quiet.”
Ruth laughed, then sobered. “Katie? I know I said I wouldn’t go back to Bill, but if it was the only way to save my daughter, I would. You know that.”
“I know. Ultimately, that’s your decision, but you know what will happen. You’re a smart woman.”
“I’m a woman who loves her child.” She drained her cup and got up from table. “I’d better go back to bed. Tomorrow is another day in the Candlelight soap opera. Wonder what it will bring.”
“Nothing, I pray. Just good ole peace and quiet. ”
Ruth rinsed her cup and left the room. The helicopter had gone away for the night, and a blessed silence wrapped the house. The news crews were still camped across the road, and she felt under siege. But it would soon be over, one way or another.
Tottie came into the kitchen, yawning. “You still up?”
“I thought I heard something and came downstairs. Ruth was having a cup of tea, so I joined her.”
She nodded. “Think I’ll have one too. I’m having trouble going to sleep.”
“You’d think we’d be exhausted after the long day.”
“Running on nerves. We’re too keyed up to sleep.” The microwave dinged, and Tottie removed her cup of hot water. “We’ll all be glad when this is over.”
“Did you clean Warren’s house today?”
“Clara isn’t the neatest woman in the world, I can tell you that. Drops things all over the house, eats and leaves a mess. She’s about to drive Warren up a wall.”
“She’s used to having people wait on her. Probably has servants and aides and all of that.”
Tottie removed the tea bag from her cup and sat down at the table. “You know, sometimes she isn’t all that bad. In fact, get her off to herself without Warren around, and she’s nice enough. She’s had a hard time. I know she’s spoiled, used to having her own way, but she was raised poor. Clara has had to work her way up the chain, and it hasn’t always been easy.”
“And then she was unfortunate enough to marry an abuser.”
“She’s not the first woman to make that mistake.” Tottie took a sip of tea, her manner preoccupied. “You know there’s more than one kind of abuse. There’s physical, but there’s mental and emotional abuse too. I think Clara has been emotionally abused as well as physically.”
“Sometimes that leaves the deepest scars.”
“It’s true.”
Tottie was silent for a minute, and from her expression Katie could tell she was in serious thought. Finally she looked up. “You think we can hold on to the shelter?”
“I don’t know. Warren wants me to close it. He thinks keeping it open is dangerous.”
“It can be, but nowhere is safe these days. People get killed working in a post office or convenience store. I don’t suppose it’s any more dangerous than anywhere else, if you really think about it.”
“I told him I’d consider closing, but I can’t bring myself to seriously think about it. It’s so much a part of my life.”
Tottie nodded. “Guess when all is said and done, you owe it to your grandparents’ memory to save it if you can.”
Yes, of course, and without Tottie’s help, physically and financially, she could have never opened the establishment. She had been left the ranch in an agreement of trust. Her grandparents had worked hard to build up this property. She couldn’t betray their confidence. Somehow she had to find a way to keep it and the shelter too.
Tottie moved the mug, creating wet circles on the tabletop. “What if Neil Townsend isn’t behind the harassment? What if it’s someone you’ve never considered?”
“I guess we’ll soon know,” Katie admitted. “If Clara leaves and the harassment stops, then it was Neil.”
“And if it resumes, it wasn’t Neil.”
Katie glanced up. “You don’t think it’s over?”
“I didn’t say that, but we can’t know for sure. Anything is possible. You’re trusting, Katie. You may have an enemy you don’t know about. A deadly enemy.”
Coldness washed over Katie. A killing frost. “It has to be Neil Townsend. Who else can it be?”
Tottie shook her head. “I have no idea, and maybe you’re right and it is Townsend. I’m just saying we can’t drop our guard until we know for certain.” She got up and carried her cup to the sink. “I’m going back to bed. Tomorrow’s another day. If I’d known I was going to be a TV star, I’d have lost a few pounds before the cameras arrived.”
Nineteen
The phone shrilled before daybreak. Startled from a sound sleep, Katie fumbled for the receiver. Sleep tinted her voice. “Yes?”
Ben’s friendly timbre greeted her. “Sorry to call so early, but we need to move quickly on this. I’ve arranged for Clara to move to Whispering Springs — ”
“In Cope?” Cope was bigger than Little Bush by a few hundred people, but it was a safe distance away.
“They can accommodate her, and the place is so remote, it’s unlikely the press will find her before the election.”
Katie sat up clearing her throat. “How will we move her without the reporters spotting her?”
“Here’s the plan: dress her like Bobbi Weller.”
Jodi Weller’s sixteen-year-old? It could work. Bobbi’s “Britney Spears” obsession was about to ruin her. Any tasteless bit of fashion to hit the streets drew her like a magnet.
“Bobbi runs errands for you, doesn’t she?”
“Occasionally.” Before Warren put a stop to the unnecessary expense.
“Then it shouldn’t raise suspicion if Tottie left and came back with Bobbi, then half hour later came out of the house with Clara dressed in Bobbi’s clothes, would it.”
“No — it could work. Clara is small like Bobbi. And Bobbi has black hair, and Clara has a black wig.”
“She has a wig? Great. Can you get Bobbi?”
Katie glanced at the darkened window. “It isn’t daylight, Ben.” Good grief. Without telling the Wellers the whole messy story, she couldn’t show up on their doorstep at this ungodly hour requesting that their daughter run an errand for her on a school day.
“Get around as early as you can. We have to shake the press. The town is getting antsy with the disturbance. My phone’s been ringing off the hook.”
“I understand.”
Ben clicked off without saying good-bye. Katie fumbled the receiver back on the cradle, then groaned and yanked the sheets over her head.
Katie waited until six o’clock to call the Wellers. Jodi, Bobbi’s mother, answered the phone. “Katie? You’re up early. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I need Bobbi to do something for me. I’ll pick her up, and then when she’s through, I’ll take her to school.”
Jodi’s tone had a frown. ”What do you need Bobbi for this early in the morning? Can’t it wait until after school?”
“No, actually, it can’t.” Katie searched for a plausible reason why Jodi Weller should allow her to pick up Bobbi at six-thirty in the morning. She didn’t blame the woman’s reservation.
“Look, Jodi. You know the situation we have out here.”
“How could I not know? It dominates every television channel day and night.”
“Well, I need Bobbi for something involved with that. I’ll take care of her, I promise.”
Silence.
“Jodi?”
“I’m thinking. Katie, I really don’t want Bobbi’s picture all over the television screen. It’s not safe.”
“I agree, and she won’t be, I promise.” That word again. Hopefully she could deliver. She didn’t want to expose Bobbi to the pitiless eye of the camera eith
er.
Jodi sighed. “All right, Katie. I trust you. I guess it will be all right.”
“I appreciate it. I really do. Tell Bobbi I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Bobbi downed the last of her cereal when Katie arrived. She calmly buttered a piece of toast and swigged milk. “I’ll be ready in a sec.”
Katie glanced at her watch. “I don’t have a sec. We need to leave right now.”
Bobbi’s expression turned rebellious, but Katie gave her a stern glance. The teenager rolled her eyes and then drew a deep breath. “Fine.” She shrugged into her coat, pulled on her backpack, and grabbed her toast. “Let’s go.”
Once in the car, Bobbi munched her toast, not speaking, which was fine with Katie. At this point, she didn’t have anything to say.
Bobbi finished her meal, took a tube of something shimmery out of her pea-sized purse, and swiped it across her lips. Her dark hair was longer than Clara’s, but hopefully no sharp-eyed reporter would catch the minor detail.
“I’ll miss cheerleading clinic.”
“I promise to have you in class no later than ten.”
“Too late.” She sat back and stuck a piece of sugarless gum into her mouth. “Practice is over at 8:30.”
Katie stepped on the gas, her thoughts focused on Ben’s earlier summons. Even with Clara dressed like Bobbi, how did the sheriff intend to divert the reporters’ attention? At this point, they were suspicious of anything. Bobbi perked up when they passed the reporters who were on the job, cups of steaming brew in their hands. The coffee shop was experiencing a financial boom from the hullabaloo.
“Am I going to be on television?”
“I hope not. I promised your mother you wouldn’t.”
The teenager’s expression fell. “But it would be awesome. Everyone would be so jealous.”
“Sorry, won’t happen.” Katie hit the gas and zipped up the drive to park in front of the house. A stock trailer was backed up to the barn, and Ben’s deputies were in the process of loading the injured horses. The barn lot was a beehive of activity.
Katie exited the jeep, pulling the hood of her coat up closer. A sharp wind cut through her. Ben approached, removing his leather gloves. He was dressed in a khaki uniform and a black ball cap with the letters SHERIFF emblazoned across the top. His cheeks and ear tips glowed with winter’s bite.
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