by Jenna Jacob
“As far away from you as possible.” Though her indignant tone would only enrage Doug more, Kaitlin was past caring. Her focus was on escaping this never-ending nightmare.
“Oh, I got it now. I know where you’re going,” Doug challenged in the belittling tone she knew well. “Stupid little bitch. You’re running back to your granny, aren’t you?”
Kaitlin had known he’d eventually surmise her destination, but she hadn’t expected his saturated brain cells to come up with it so quickly. When she didn’t respond, Doug continued his rant.
“Jesus, Kaitlin. What the fuck are you going to do in that godforsaken place? You didn’t even pack a proper housedress. Go on. Go impress those disgusting dirt farmers and their fat, lazy wives with all the wealth I’ve given you,” he chided in his typical derisive tone.
Fury pulsed through her veins like an electric current. Kaitlin spun on her heel and glared up at him. “You’ve given me? You’ve given me? I worked my ass off for every penny I earned, every award I won, and every exclusive interview I’ve given. I’ve carried your portion of the household expenses for over a year. Exactly where is your so-called wealth? Oh, that’s right, you’ve snorted it up your nose, lost it to your loan sharks, or blown it on booze and hookers. Never once have I whored myself out for success, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you.”
Doug’s face turned crimson and his nostrils flared. Turning, Kaitlin yanked the door open as Robert breezed past with the luggage. Stepping over the threshold, she slammed the heavy door behind her.
A steady rain fell, but Kaitlin stayed dry under the eaves on the porch, waiting as Robert stowed her luggage into her Arden Jaguar XF. The dreary sky and unsympathetic drops only dampened her spirits further. She felt hollow, drained, and numb inside. Though the feelings were different from the chaos and anxiety she’d lived with for months, Kaitlin didn’t find any respite. The uneasy hum of dread continued to vibrate inside just as it always did here on the palatial, fourteen-acre estate in the prestigious Barrington Hills section north of Chicago.
It was ironic. The wealth she’d amassed over the years hadn’t brought the happy ever after she’d desperately sought as a girl. Neither had the mansion, imported furnishings, expensive cars, maids, butler, or success of the company. They hadn’t brought her any happiness, and they certainly hadn’t saved Doug from pursuing vices destined to destroy him.
Why the hell had they worked so hard to achieve…nothing? Kaitlin felt cheated on every level.
Robert closed the trunk and quickly opened the driver’s-side door. Kaitlin tucked her head and stepped off the porch as Doug careened out the front door. She automatically reached for the gun in her purse.
“Get your ass back in the house.”
“I’m leaving, Doug. It’s over.”
“Don’t make me come after you. You’re crazy if you think that pathetic old lady can save you. Nobody can.”
Ignoring his threat, she flashed Robert a look of gratitude, whispered her thanks, and slid onto the soft, buttery leather seat of her Jag. She closed and locked the door before placing the gun in her lap. The cold, heavy metal seemed to match the weight in her heart. Kaitlin latched the seat belt, then started the car. Her entire body trembled. She gripped the steering wheel and punched the accelerator. As she sped down the private drive, the ornate wrought iron gates swung open before her.
A tiny thrill skittered up her spine and sputtered out. She’d finally broken free from her prison of fear, but a different kind of anxiety pressed in on her chest…stole her breath and prickled her skin. It felt as if the mask of confidence—that resilient façade she strived to keep in place—was melting away. She was terrified of what she’d find beneath the veneer. Pretending had been her only salvation. It had enabled her to orchestrate multimillion-dollar contracts while shielding herself from Doug’s addictions and the demise of her dreams. The walls she’d built to hide her insecurities were crumbling, leaving her waist-deep in rubble. Kaitlin was petrified.
“You can’t afford to be weak. Strength is your only ally,” she rallied to herself. Still, it did little to soothe. Her heart simply wasn’t listening.
From the rearview mirror, she watched the gates close behind her. Stowing her gun in her purse, Kaitlin turned off her cell phone, sucked in a deep breath, and started toward home.
Connor, Iowa—population one thousand and one—couldn’t be regarded as a thriving metropolis. Kaitlin’s expertise in advertising had as much chance to flourish there as a palm tree in Alaska. She didn’t need work. She needed a safe haven to hole up, regroup, and lick her wounds. There was no safer place than home.
As she drove, childhood memories flooded her mind before overwhelming shame settled deep. It had been years since she’d gone to visit her seventy-six-year-old grandmother. She feared the woman would see past Kaitlin’s veil and discover her perfect, successful life was anything but. Gran had the innate ability to read Kaitlin like a well-worn book. But instead of turning to the one person who would help and understand, when things with Doug had first started falling apart, Kaitlin had immersed herself in generating a profitable client base. What a stupid mistake.
Of course, Gran’s perceptive powers weren’t the only reason Kaitlin hadn’t returned home. She’d worried she’d have to atone for the biggest mistake of her life…leaving Sky Whitefeather. He was the tall, lanky boy she’d grown up and fallen in love with—given her virginity to, as well—and then dumped like a sack of trash when she was eighteen. No amount of guilt stopped the beautiful Native American man from haunting her dreams. Kaitlin had learned to live with the aching desire to feel his strong arms, soft lips, and passionate love once again.
But she’d fucked that up, just like she did everything else.
Instead of telling Sky good-bye, she’d packed her bags in the middle of the night and cowardly run away. Her fears and selfish pride had driven her to hurt the only man she’d ever truly loved. She wasn’t naïve enough to think an apology, given thirteen years after the fact, would be accepted. Besides, if he too had returned to Connor, Kaitlin wasn’t sure she had the guts to even try. After all this time, there really wasn’t much use.
Still, memories of Sky crowded her mind. They’d grown up together after he and his mother, Brooke, had moved in across the gravel road from Gran. Kaitlin and Sky were just five years old. As playmates, they’d run barefoot through the fields in summer, shared their secrets, dreams, and fears, and bonded as friends long before they’d become lovers. Sky possessed a caring, gentle soul. It was one of the many things that had attracted her to him. He was also fiercely protective of her, and her of him.
Kaitlin recalled the bus ride home after their first day of fourth grade. Mitchell Walker—a pudgy, freckle-faced sixth-grade bully—had spent the entire trip home taunting Sky. Kaitlin had been livid when Mitchell had called him a dirty, red-skinned Injun, so much so that when the bus stopped on the road by Gran’s and Brooke’s houses, Kaitlin had stood and punched Mitchell Walker right in the nose. The little bastard had howled as blood spilled down his face. Kaitlin had taken Sky’s hand and dragged him off behind her. They could still hear Mitchell screaming like a sissy as the bus had driven out of sight.
Kaitlin had laughed in a rush of satisfaction, but when she’d turned and seen the hurt in Sky’s eyes, her thrill had vanished. Without a word, she’d squeezed his hand, and the two of them had walked back into town. She’d bought him an ice cream cone with the money she had tucked in her sock and tried to ease the sting of Mitchell’s hurtful words.
Their friendship wasn’t always filled with compassion. She and Sky fought like cats and dogs—at least until puberty. That’s when Kaitlin had realized boys didn’t actually have cooties. By the age of sixteen, she’d fallen madly in love with Sky, and even more so at eighteen, when they’d lost their virginity to one another. For a moment, her heart swelled with the feeling of contentment, but just as quickly, Kaitlin chased it away.
“Lettin
g him go was for the best. You know that,” she rationalized as usual.
She’d spent the last thirteen years trying to convince herself Sky was better off without her. Still, it didn’t ease the ache in her heart. It didn’t seem to matter they’d always been destined for different things. Kaitlin had never had a future with Sky—a fact she’d chosen to ignore the summer before she’d left. His destiny had been secured when Brooke had purchased forty acres behind their house. He would work the fields and eke out enough profit to put food on their table. Kaitlin’s dreams had been loftier than becoming a farmer’s wife. She couldn’t wait to leave the fishbowl town of Connor and make a name for herself…leave her mark on the world.
“You’ve done a real kick-ass job of that, now haven’t you?” she scoffed bitterly.
In the back of her mind, Kaitlin had always known that one day she’d have to apologize for hurting Sky, but today wasn’t that day. Her plate was full…overflowing, in fact. As she focused on the mess she’d made of her life, the knife of regret seemed to slide in deeper.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty; still, Kaitlin wondered how different her life would be now if she’d reached out to Gran when Doug had started changing.
“You likely wouldn’t have listened,” she groused with a scowl.
You need to call Gran.
“And tell her what?” she snapped at her own conscience. “I’m coming home a megafailure and an emotional hot mess? I’m nowhere near the strong-willed woman she raised me to be?”
Weakness had never been in Kaitlin’s DNA, until now. She felt impotent and small for letting Doug chisel away her self-confidence. She wasn’t even sure how that had happened. Could her strong-willed grandmother even comprehend such a thing?
Ione St. Clair—known as Gran to everyone in Connor—was a loving, generous, and tough-as-nails woman. Courageous and capable—traits Kaitlin had once possessed—Ione was beyond resilient. At the age of forty-eight, Ione St. Clair had held newborn Kaitlin in the delivery room as she’d kissed her dying daughter, Maria, good-bye. She was more than a grandmother, she was the only mother or father Kaitlin had ever known.
After the death of his beloved wife, her father, Sonny, had tried to drown his sorrow—or had attempted a slow suicide—in alcohol. The day her mother was laid to rest, in the tiny cemetery on the outskirts of town, Sonny had signed custody of Kaitlin over to Gran and left. Neither of them had seen or heard from him again. Her father had simply disappeared, leaving the people of Connor enough venomous fodder for Kaitlin to haul around for eighteen years. The thought of appearing weak, like her father, was the main driving force behind Kaitlin’s need to succeed.
Gran never spoke maliciously of Sonny. Instead, she chose to epitomize the man: regaling Kaitlin with stories of the deep love and devotion her parents had shared for one another. Gran had always assured her: The man who ran away wasn’t the son-in-law I knew. He was nothing but a shell of a man after your momma died. I guess sometimes a heart breaks so badly nothing can mend it.
“Well, the apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it? I’m just like my father. I packed my clothes and ran away because I couldn’t hang. That’ll make Gran so proud.”
A bitter taste lay on Kaitlin’s tongue. As the miles melted behind her, she obsessed about disappointing Gran. It took a while, and a lot of self-talk, but Kaitlin slowly realized Gran wasn’t the kind of woman to find joy in others’ sorrow. Nor did she judge. Ione St. Clair would envelope her in a blanket of love, reassure her that everything would be fine and smooth the jagged edges of Kaitlin’s broken heart. She would wipe away Kaitlin’s tears, kiss her cheek, and remind her that: Life’s most valuable lessons are learned through tears—they’re simply God’s way of cleansing the soul.
The only thing Kaitlin feared was that once she started that cleansing, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
Deciding she’d dwelled on the negative long enough, Kaitlin conjured images of Connor. In her mind, she saw the post office, grocery store, the newspaper office, dry goods store, and all the other mom-and-pop shops that lined both sides of Main Street. There was The Alibi—the only bar in town, and Sharp’s Diner, where gossip flourished from morning until night.
She also imagined the miles and miles of corn and soybean fields that stretched out for as far as the eye could see. She could almost smell the fresh farm air and feel the summer breeze caress her face. For the first time in a long time, Kaitlin was homesick.
Bolstered by a sudden rush of confidence, Kaitlin reached inside her purse and turned on her cell phone. She ignored the numerous missed calls and text messages, engaged the app on the Jag’s dash, and placed a call to Gran.
“Well, there’s my Katie-girl. I’m glad you called me, honey.”
Like a long, lost blanket, Gran’s loving voice surrounded her.
“Me too. How are you doing, Gran?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Keeping busy with my clubs and such. Not much new here. I’m on the sunny side of the grass still, so I can’t complain. How are things in the big city?”
A rush of panic washed over Kaitlin, leaving her feeling as small and helpless as a child. She hated being fragile and insubstantial, like a bar of chocolate on the sidewalk in July.
“The company is doing great. Set a new sales record last month, even.” She struggled to keep her voice lighthearted while biting back the urge to add: but my life is in the toilet. She nervously cleared her throat. “I—I called to see if you’d mind if I came for a visit? I needed to get away for a bit, so I thought I’d come home…that is, if you don’t have any wild plans. Even if you do, I promise I won’t interfere.”
The words swirled off her tongue like a springtime twister. They always did when she attempted to keep secrets from Gran. Kaitlin was toast. A pained expression pinched her face.
Before Gran could bust her, Kaitlin opened her mouth again. “By the way, you don’t need to pick me up at the airport. I decided to drive. It’s going to take me a few more hours to get there, but if this isn’t a good time for you, I can turn back around.”
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
Kaitlin cringed and bit her lips together…hard. Anxiety spiked when Gran didn’t respond. If the old woman hadn’t suspected something was wrong before, she sure did now.
“No, honey. Don’t you dare turn around.” Gran’s tone held the familiar markings of concern. Kaitlin’s heart sank like a stone. “There’s nothing on earth I’d love more than having you here. I’ll get your room all fixed up and ready for you. Drive careful now, you hear?”
“I will.”
“Are you all right, Katie-girl?”
“Sure. I’m fine.” Liar. “I, ah… I just need to get away for a bit. Take a break from the stress.”
Kaitlin could almost hear the questions pinging inside Gran’s head. “You come on home, sweetheart. We’ll get you un-stressed.” she assured her. “What made you decide to drive?”
“Uh, well…I—I thought a drive through the country might do me some good. You know, clear my mind. It’s really not that far.”
“Hmm, I see,” Gran replied in her patented suspicious tone. A ripple of guilt rolled through Kaitlin as she gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Is Doug with you?”
“No. He, ah, he couldn’t get away right now.”
That was the same excuse she’d given Gran the other two times he hadn’t come to Connor with Kaitlin. It was beneath him to associate with farmers. “You’ll…you’ll have me all to yourself.”
Kaitlin scowled. She might as well come right out and tell Gran that her life was a craptastic shit fest instead of stammering like an idiot.
Bad idea, a little voice inside her head warned. You need to sort this out before you try and explain it to Gran.
“You be careful, Katie-girl.”
“I will. I love you, Gran.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Kaitlin blurted out. “I transferred some money into o
ur joint account before I left Chicago. Just in case Hazel Johnson calls to interrogate you.”
Of course, she didn’t say how much or why. Kaitlin prayed Hazel, the nosy old cow from the bank, wouldn’t call. Gran might very well stroke out if she knew how much money was involved.
“We both know how Hazel loves to brag about the bank,” Gran chuckled.
“Yes. I just don’t want her thinking you’re cheating at Bunko.” Kaitlin laughed. It felt artificial.
“Don’t worry about Hazel. If she calls, I’ll tell her I faked my own death to collect my life insurance money,” Gran teased.
“Glad to hear you’re still as ornery as ever. I love you, Gran. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you too, Katie-girl. Be careful. I’ll be waiting with open arms.”
She physically ached for the arms Gran offered. Disconnecting the call, Kaitlin exhaled a huge sigh of relief. Restless to get back home, she turned on the radio and kicked up the cruise control.
CHAPTER TWO
Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.
-Allen Saunders
“Daddy. I have to go, really, really bad.”
From beneath the gazebo in Ione St. Clair’s front yard, Sky Whitefeather tucked the hammer he’d been using to shore up some lose boards into his tool belt. He turned his head and smiled up at his four-year-old daughter, Nina. The little sprite was standing in the grass wiggling a familiar potty dance.
“Come on, muffin. Let’s go ask GG Gran”—as Nina liked to call Ione—“if we can use her bathroom,” Sky replied as he crawled out from under the wooden structure.
Just as he raised his hand to knock on the screen door, he heard the old woman’s voice floating through the open kitchen window.
“I love you too, Katie-girl. Be careful. I’ll be waiting with open arms.”
What the fuck? Katie was actually coming home?
Sky’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing her again. Emotions quarreled with questions and tore through him like a herd of stampeding buffalo. His cock stirred and he swallowed hard.