by Terri Osburn
It was as if they were all trained by the same master.
Be attentive. Be kind. Be everything she could ever want in a man—until you get the ring on her finger. Then, make sure she understands who’s in charge. Keep her in line with fists and threats, always with the reminder that no one else would have her, and that she’s making you do this to her. Make her listen. Make her obedient. Make her weak.
Bile bubbled in Carrie’s throat just thinking about it.
“I can’t believe I’ve done this,” Roberta said for the fourth time. “He’s going to kill me. When he finds me, he’s going to kill me.”
Carrie had been pacing the living room for nearly half an hour. Noah would be home any minute, and she had yet to come up with a way to explain why there was a strange woman in her trailer. A strange woman whose violent husband would fly into a rage upon finding her gone. At least they had another day before having to deal with that part.
“Roberta, you have to stay focused here,” she said, perching on the edge of the coffee table. “We had to get you out. That was the hard part, right?”
Wringing her hands, the scared woman said, “But what if this man of yours is angry that I’m here? What if he kicks me out?”
“That won’t happen. Noah is a good man,” Carrie assured her. “He wouldn’t put you in danger like that. And besides,” she added, “this is my house. His is next door. He couldn’t kick you out if he wanted to.”
But that didn’t mean he’d approve of this spontaneous misadventure either.
“I don’t feel safe,” Roberta said, hopping off the couch. “If I’m still in town, he’ll find me. I need to get farther away.”
Hopeful, Carrie followed her across the room. “That’s an excellent idea. Do you have a friend or a relative out of state? We can put you on a bus this afternoon.”
Roberta shook her head. “I don’t know anyone. My late aunt raised me, but she didn’t like mixing with people in town. I guess I might have family somewhere, but I wouldn’t know how to find them.”
And Carrie thought she’d lived in a small world. “How did you meet Wayne if you kept to yourself?”
“At the feed store,” she admitted. “Granny and I stocked up once a month for the dogs and chickens, and one day Wayne was there, too. He stopped me to tell me I was pretty.” She toyed with her hair. “No one had ever told me I was pretty before. I married him a month later.”
Don’t judge. Don’t judge.
“You are pretty, Roberta, and you deserve a man who won’t lay his hands on you.” Carrie heard a car outside and ran to the front window. “Noah is home,” she said, frantically closing the blinds. “Hide in Molly’s bedroom.”
“Why do I have to hide?” she asked as Carrie herded her along. “You said he wouldn’t be mad.”
“Just give me a few minutes to explain the situation.” Something told her this would take more than a few minutes to explain. “Then I’ll bring you out, and we’ll all sit down and decide what to do next. Okay?”
Nodding, Roberta said, “Okay.”
Carrie shut the door and rushed to the kitchen. Flustered, she flipped on the faucet to clean the one bottle in the sink.
Closing the door quickly behind him to keep out the cold, Noah looked around. “Where’s Molly?” The baby had taken up the habit of running for his legs whenever he walked into the house.
“With Lorelei,” she said. “She hasn’t seen her much since they came back from the honeymoon, so I let them have her for a while.”
“Them?” Noah asked, setting his keys on the counter.
Scrubbing the nipple, she said, “Yeah. Her and Spencer.”
Stopping with his jacket half off, he said, “I was with Spencer, and I didn’t see Lorelei or Molly.”
Carrie shut off the water. “You were with Spencer?”
“I went to see if he can build a couple custom gates for the stairs over at the house. Top and bottom to keep Molly from crawling up or falling down.”
Crisis temporarily forgotten, she said, “That’s so sweet. Did he say he could do it?”
Noah shrugged the rest of the way out of his jacket and pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket. “We think so. But he’ll need a couple more odd measurements that I didn’t have with me. I’ll get those tonight and send ’em over.”
“You should do that now,” Carrie said, seizing the opportunity for more time. “I have some laundry to finish, and dinner won’t be ready for hours. Go on over, and I’ll come get you when the chicken is done.”
Bracing his hands on the counter edge, he stared her down. “Carrie, what is going on?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice hitting an octave she didn’t know she had. “There’s nothing going on.”
Glancing around the trailer, he said, “Why is Molly’s door closed? Are you hiding something?” If his smile was any indication, he assumed the surprise was a good one.
She attempted a natural laugh. “Of course not. I caught Wilson in Molly’s crib earlier, so I closed the door to keep him out.”
Brow furrowed, Noah said, “How did Wilson get in the crib? He can barely heft himself onto the couch.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But he was in there.”
“You’re hiding something,” he said, bouncing off the counter. “It better not be a puppy. If I can’t get her a pony, you can’t get her a puppy.”
“Wait.” Carrie sprinted across the living room, cutting Noah off before he reached Molly’s door. “Okay. I admit it. I’m hiding something. But I don’t want to reveal it until after dinner. So stop trying to spoil it.”
Noah crossed his arms. “I showed you your surprise early.”
Carrie stood her ground. “You did that on your own. I could have waited.”
Gripping her shoulders, Noah planted a hard kiss on her mouth. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I’ll wait.”
She sighed with relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“But when I get back,” he said, grabbing his coat, “no more waiting.”
“I promise,” Carrie said. “All will be revealed when you get back.”
Full lips quirked into a sexy grin of warning as he traipsed back outside. Carrie fell against the door behind her only to nearly land on her butt when Roberta opened it.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” she said. “This was a mistake, wasn’t it? You’re afraid of him. I can see it.”
“No. No, no, no. That’s not it at all.” Carrie chased Roberta into the living room. “I’m not sure how to explain this to him, that’s all. I mean, I probably should have told him I was going to do this. It sounded much simpler in my head before everything kicked into motion today.”
“Carrie, I appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to mess up your life. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my trouble.”
Taking her hands, Carrie pulled Roberta to the couch, forced her to sit, and then did the same. “I put myself in this, and I’m not sorry that I did. We have this one little hurdle of getting Noah on board with us, and then we’ll take it one day at a time after that. It’s all going to work out.”
Looking hopeful, she said, “You really think so?”
More determined than ever, Carrie nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
What the hell could she be hiding in there?
Noah pondered the possibilities on his way to the farmhouse. He wouldn’t put the puppy thing past her, but he hadn’t heard anything moving or yipping through the door, and there was no way Carrie had trained a puppy to be still and quiet in a matter of hours.
Nothing else came to mind. He hadn’t asked for anything. Not that he would. Noah didn’t need much to get by. His mostly empty house stood as proof to that. Stepping into the warmth, he shed his coat, tossing it on the couch, and passed through to the kitchen for his tape measure. To achieve the gate height he wanted, one side would need to be modified to account for the cut in of the banister. And with the house as old as it was, Noah knew
the top and bottom measurements would be different.
With the landing measurement in hand, he started on the bottom. He’d been right. A difference of nearly half an inch. Great-granddad had been a master builder, but even he couldn’t account for a century of settling. As the measuring tape snapped closed, Noah heard a noise in the distance. Maybe a carload of teenagers blasting music as they barreled down the back road. The sound came again. Definitely not music.
Leaving the notepad and tape measure on the steps, he crossed to the window and spotted a jacked-up Ford Bronco in Carrie’s driveway. A scream cut through the distance as a dark-haired wall of a man dragged a woman out of the trailer. When Carrie chased after him, yelling something Noah couldn’t decipher, the asshole spun around, backhanding her hard enough to send her flying through the air.
“Carrie!” Noah roared, slamming his hands against the window the same way he had in his nightmares. But this time the glass cracked. In seconds, he was out the door, clearing the gate with a single leap and dropping his adversary to the ground with an elbow to his nose. The crying woman crawled away as Noah checked on Carrie. The gash across her cheekbone bled onto his hand, and he lost it.
“Get up, you sick son of a bitch.” Noah picked the sack of shit up by his shirt, dodging the right hook that grazed his jaw, and with a quick head butt, he sent the asshole stumbling backward.
“That’s my wife,” the stranger bellowed, pointing at the woman now crying beside Carrie’s car. Blood oozed from her nose, and she held her arm as it if was broken. “You and your slut can’t keep my woman from me.”
Rage ringing in his ears, Noah charged with his shoulder low, sending them both to the ground. The first punch shattered bone. The second shoved his nose into his skull. The image of Carrie taking the hit played over and over in his mind. Never again. He would never let a man hurt her again.
“Noah!” Carrie yelled, pulling him back to reality. “Noah, please. You’re going to kill him.” She tugged on his shoulders, but he kept punching, oblivious to the shredded skin on his knuckles. “Oh my God, Noah,” she cried, her tears getting through to him. “You can’t kill him. I won’t lose you over this. Please. Stop.”
Releasing his grip on the bloody shirt, Noah climbed off the attacker. His hands throbbed, blood speckled his clothes, and Carrie held his face, her cheeks wet with tears.
“Honey? Come back to me, baby. Are you okay?” Frantic, she said, “Is any of this blood yours? Noah, tell me that you’re okay.”
Too winded to talk, he nodded, touching a fingertip to her cheek.
“Don’t worry about me. It’s just a scratch.”
She called that a fucking scratch? The son of a bitch had split her cheek wide open. Fury reignited deep in his gut. Why? Why had she put herself in danger like that? Why had she done something so stupid? And without telling him? Without giving him the benefit of being ready? Of protecting her?
The bleeding man on the ground started to cough.
“Help me, Noah,” Carrie said. “He’s going to choke on his own blood. We have to roll him over.”
Staring at his knuckles, Noah rose to his feet.
“Noah, help me. We can’t let him die.”
Recognizing the beast gnawing to get out, Noah stumbled toward the fence gate.
“Where are you going?” she called after him, but he kept walking.
He had to get away. Before he did something stupid. Before he lost control.
“Roberta!” Carrie called, struggling to roll Wayne onto his side. “Come and help me. We can’t let him die. I will not have his death on Noah’s hands.”
The battered woman moaned but got to her feet. With her one good arm, she added her strength to Carrie’s, and they managed to get her husband onto his side. The coughing stopped, though the bleeding continued.
“Go inside. Get my phone and call 911,” Carrie ordered.
“My phone,” Roberta mumbled. “That’s how he found me. I forgot that he tracks my phone.”
They didn’t have time for this. “I don’t care about that right now. Go in and call 911. And bring me some towels. There’s a closet in the hallway. Grab a stack of towels off the shelf.” The woman stayed where she was, staring in shock at her husband’s face. “Go, Roberta! Do what I told you.”
Scrambling to her feet, Roberta limped into the trailer, hugging her left arm close to her body. The moment Wayne had forced his way into the house, he’d shoved Carrie hard enough to send her hurtling across the living room. When Roberta had come to her defense, he’d snapped her arm like a toothpick. Carrie could still hear the crack of the bone, though nothing would ever compare to the sound of Noah shattering the man’s face.
Holding her attacker’s head off the gravel, Carrie watched Roberta stumble off the porch with a towel under her good arm and a cell phone to her ear. “They want to know the address,” she said. “I don’t know the address.”
Carrie rattled off the information, taking the towel and holding it to Wayne’s nose. “Tell them to hurry. And to send an ambulance.”
Roberta followed the order before dropping to the ground beside her would-be savior. “Do you think he’ll live?” she asked.
“He has to live,” Carrie said. Noah would not go to prison for saving their lives. And that’s exactly what he’d done. There wasn’t a doubt in her body that had Wayne gotten away with Roberta, she wouldn’t have lived to see morning. “Stay here and hold this towel against his nose. But make sure you don’t cut off his breathing.”
“Where are you going?” Roberta asked as Carrie got to her feet.
“I have to go find Noah. I have to make sure he’s okay.”
“But what about me?” she shrieked. “What if he wakes up?”
“Dammit, Roberta, look at him,” Carrie railed. “He isn’t going to hurt you. Just stay here.”
On her way through the gate, a series of prayers ran through her mind. Prayers of gratitude that Molly wasn’t there. Prayers for forgiveness for getting them into this horrible situation. But most of all, prayers that Noah would be all right. When she’d pulled him off of Wayne, his eyes had been dead. No, that wasn’t true. His eyes had been full of rage. Rage like she’d never seen before. But Noah hadn’t been in them. The monster that tortured his mind had taken over. Had nearly killed a man.
She added another prayer on top of the others. That Wayne Hawkins would keep freaking breathing.
“Noah!” he heard her call as the farmhouse door flew open. “Noah, where are you?”
He didn’t answer. Stayed where he was at the kitchen table. She found him anyway.
“Honey, we need to clean up your hands.” Carrie pulled a clean washcloth from a drawer and soaked it under cold water. “Let me see them,” she said, crossing to the table. When she dabbed at the blood, he jerked away. “Baby, please,” she pleaded. “It’s okay now. We’re all okay. Let me take care of your hands.”
“Why?” he exploded, bounding to his feet so fast his chair sailed across the room. “What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t think it through,” she defended. “I didn’t know he could track her phone.”
“Who cares about a fucking phone? He could have killed you. Why would you put yourself in danger like that?”
“I didn’t mean to.” Carrie took a step toward him. “Just let me see your hands.”
Ignoring her plea, Noah prowled the room. “You should have told me. You should have given me a warning.”
“He was supposed to be in the woods hunting until tomorrow. I was going to tell you when you came back.”
“You should have told me before you brought her here.” Slamming his hands into his hair, he growled, “You knew what could happen. You know better than anyone. God, when I saw him hit you . . .”
“Don’t think about it,” she said, trying to soothe him. “I’m not hurt.”
Astonished, he yelled, “You’re fucking bleeding!”
Carrie touched her cheek. “I’ll put some
ice on it. It’ll be fine.”
“Is that what you used to say?” he taunted. “When Patch would smack you around? Just put a little ice on it and it’ll be fine?”
Her body tensed. “Noah, don’t do that. You’re angry and I understand why, but don’t say something we’ll both regret later.”
“You didn’t even think about me, did you?” Slamming his fists on the table, he bellowed, “Do you know what it would have done to me if I’d have come home to find you hurt? What if I hadn’t been here? What if I’d have come home an hour later and found you beaten and broken in the dirt? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?”
Meeting his anger with her own, Carrie yelled, “I didn’t do this to hurt you! I didn’t set out to bring your freaking nightmares to life, Noah. I did it to save a woman from another beating. I wanted to help her. That’s all.”
“You helped all right,” he shot back, charging toward the front door.
She hurried behind him. “Where are you going?”
“I need to get out of here.”
“Noah, your keys are over in the trailer.”
Changing direction, he stormed back into the kitchen and yanked a set of keys off the wall. “I’ll take the fucking bike.”
Carrie reached for his arm. “It’s freezing outside, and you don’t even have a coat on. Please, Noah, I’m sorry. I know I scared you. I won’t ever do it again.”
Brushing her off, he barreled through the door.
“Noah, please don’t go,” she cried from the doorway.
But he never looked back.
Chapter 24
“Are you sure you don’t know where he went?” Dale asked for the second time.