Sanctuary

by Brenda Novak

  “Where will we stay?”

  “We’ll find someplace to rent.” Hope hadn’t had time to make any arrangements, but Enchantment had protected her once. She had confidence it would do so a second time—and take Faith in, as well. When she’d said goodbye to Lydia Kane and Parker Reynolds ten years ago, she’d assumed it would be forever. Lydia had told Hope to be happy, to emotionally release the child she’d given up, start over someplace new and never look back. And Hope had taken that advice to heart.

  But forever never seemed to last that long. Hope had thought Superior was behind her forever, too.

  “How will we live, now that you don’t have a job?” Faith asked.

  “I told you, I’ll find work.”

  “Where?”

  “There’re plenty of hospitals and doctor’s offices in New Mexico. If there’s license reciprocity between New Mexico and Utah, I’ll be better off. But if there isn’t, I can always work in another capacity until I’m able to get licensed again.”

  “But how are we going to get by until you find something?” Faith asked. “I heard you on the phone with your landlord. You lost your last month’s rent because you couldn’t give thirty days’ notice.”

  “But I left the place in such great shape, I’ll get my security deposit back. That’s better than nothing.”

  Hope shifted to relieve a cramp in one leg. She’d been driving for nearly ten hours, and sitting in the same position for so long was making her stiff and uncomfortable. “We can live off my savings—for a while.”

  It sounded like a precarious existence even to her, but Faith didn’t comment on that. “What about all your furniture and stuff? The things you put in storage?”

  “It’ll be waiting for us when we need it.”

  “When will that be?”

  Hope wished she could say. “I’m not sure. Let’s just wait and see what happens in Enchantment.”

  Faith tilted her head back onto the headrest. “How do you know so much about Enchantment, Hope? Did you stay in New Mexico a long time?”

  Long enough for Enchantment to change her. “Not for very long, but I really liked it.”

  “So…is this a bit like going home?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Faith’s lashes lowered to her cheeks. Hope thought she’d fallen asleep until she spoke again. “What’s it like to make love?” she asked out of the blue.

  Hope glanced at her sister’s swollen tummy. “You know what it’s like.”

  “I’m not talking about sex.”

  Hope lifted her eyes to her sister’s delicate-featured face. She wanted to say it was all the same, but that would be a lie. She and Bonner had been young, fumbling virgins, but what they’d shared had been far more satisfying than anything she’d experienced since. She knew the distinction between love and sex about as well as anyone.

  “Making love is…sort of a spiritual experience,” she admitted. “It’s giving everything you’ve got, physically and emotionally, and it’s better than—” she struggled for something to compare it to but came up empty “—anything,” she finished lamely.

  “Do you think we’ll ever find husbands and have regular families?”

  The sun was beginning to set on the desert, creating a spectacular display of gold and orange streaks in the rearview mirror. “Probably,” Hope said, infusing some optimism into her voice for her sister’s benefit. The fact that she could drive away and leave a nice guy like Jeff behind without a single remorseful thought told her she’d probably never marry, but she hoped Faith would. “It shouldn’t be hard for you. You’re young and beautiful.”

  Faith pulled on her seat belt. “You’re prettier than I am. And you’re not that old.”

  Maybe Hope wasn’t old, but she certainly felt like it. She felt as ancient and dried up as the arid landscape through which they were driving.

  * * *

  THEY STOPPED for the night in Albuquerque, then drove on the following morning. The road narrowed as they began climbing through the mountains, the scenery far different than that of the desert through which they’d traveled yesterday. Towering bluffs and sheer drop-offs overlooked green, pine-filled valleys that often included stands of aspens. The earth had darkened to the color of coffee grounds, and everything smelled so…fresh.

  Hope rolled down her window to let the wind blow through her hair as they started to descend into the valley where she knew they’d find Enchantment, sitting among the mountains like a jewel in the palm of God’s hand. The tight curves of the road eventually straightened, name of the highway changed to become Paseo de Sierra, and soon she could see the town just ahead.

  “Are we there?” Faith asked sleepily, rousing herself from a nap as Hope slowed to heed the lower speed limit.

  “This is it.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Hope took a deep breath, mentally embracing the town like an old friend. Other than an A-frame building with a sign that read Outdoor Tours posted near the door, a few new T-shirt shops and a drive-in restaurant called the Sunflower Café, the place hadn’t changed much. There was the newspaper office, with its glass front and gold writing in the window, the small, square post office with its flag flying, the timber-and-adobe police station a few doors down connected to the library and the Chamber of Commerce, and the drugstore, which doubled as a video-rental store—all just as they’d been when she left. The American Legion Hall looked as though it had recently received a fresh coat of white paint, and the bougainvillea blooming in front of the Morning Light Bed-and-Breakfast had taken over considerably more ground, but that was it. Even the dusty trailer park at the far end of town hadn’t changed. Ten or fifteen single-wide mobile homes, most at least twenty years old, still sat on hard-packed earth, which turned into a muddy mess with the first snow.

  Hope wondered if Zach Vaughn still lived in the trailer park. She’d once bumped into him at a pivotal point in her life—at Slim Jim’s, a small, dark steakhouse where the thick wooden tables were lit mostly by candles and the steaks were as big as the plates. Zach was a burly guy who had her beat by eight years or more. She’d had no romantic interest in him, but she remembered being impressed by the fact that he was driving truck and had a place of his own. Probably because she’d believed that if she could just find a home, she might be able to keep her baby.

  It was a closer look at the Lazy H Trailer Park, however, that had convinced her to go through with the adoption. She’d wanted to give her baby a better start than that.

  “Is something wrong?” Faith asked.

  Amazed that she could still remember Zach’s name from that brief encounter, Hope pulled her attention away from the trailer park and blinked at her sister. Already, they were nearing the end of town. A campground and a few rental cabins were nestled in the trees a little farther off, but she and Faith didn’t have any camping gear, and if they were going to rent a cabin, they needed to go to the real-estate office in town.

  “No, nothing. I was just thinking about getting something to eat. You hungry?”

  Faith shrugged. She was still shy about saying when she wanted or needed anything. Hope suspected it was because her sister didn’t have any money and hated being such a liability, so she pushed the food issue, although she wasn’t particularly hungry herself. Being back in Enchantment was evoking too many bittersweet memories.

  “Should we try the Sunflower Café?” she asked.

  “Sounds good.”

  Hope flipped a U-turn and pulled the car into the small corner lot of the Sunflower Drive-in. “Looks like they have a little dining room off to the side where we can eat. Since we don’t really have anywhere pressing to go, I think I’d prefer that. How ’bout you?”

  Faith was wearing a frown and clicking her nails together. “Do you think Arvin’s been back to St. George?” she asked, instead of answering.

  “It’s possible.”

  She put a hand on the door latch but didn’t get out. “What do you think he’ll do when
he sees we’re gone?”

  “What can he do?”

  “He can come after us.”

  Hope cringed at the memory of lifting Oscar’s bloody body from her doorstep. “Don’t worry. He won’t be able to find us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Hope had rarely spoken of anything connected to New Mexico. She doubted there were even two people in St. George who’d remember her ever mentioning the state, let alone the town.

  “I’m sure,” she said, but she knew there were ways of tracking a person that had nothing to do with word of mouth. She had to be able to get her mail somehow, which meant she’d eventually need to have it forwarded to a post-office box—preferably one she could reach without having to drive too far. She was going to need her last couple of paychecks and tax documents and final household bills. And as soon as she started working again, opened a new checking account or applied for a Visa card, there was always the chance that her new address would be picked up by one or more of the various credit-reporting agencies.

  Whether or not Arvin ever found them would depend a whole lot on how badly they wanted to lead a normal life—and how smart and determined he was. But Hope thought he’d get frustrated and give up before coming anywhere close. At least, she was praying he would. Because something about the craziness in his eyes the last time she saw him made her suspect that if he ever found them again, he wouldn’t content himself with killing another poor cat.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HIS GARDEN-NUT burger long gone, his plate pushed to the side, Parker Reynolds sat in the same booth at the Sunflower Drive-in that he claimed most Fridays, reading the Arroyo County Bulletin. He had a busy day waiting for him at the birth center—he’d already had a hectic morning—but he’d taken such a late lunch he decided to pick up Dalton from school before returning. His son usually went home with his best friend, Holt, and played at Holt’s house until Parker came to get him just before dinner. But the two seemed to be having some trouble getting along lately, and Parker thought it might be a good time to give them, and Holt’s mother, a break.

  Not that Dalton was going to be especially pleased about returning to work with him and being surrounded by a bunch of women at the clinic. A fifth-grader at the local elementary school, he was still fully immersed in the “Ew, gross” stage of male maturation. Anything delicate, pink or too sentimental was adroitly sidestepped and treated with the same crinkled nose of disdain as a dog pile. If he was taking a little longer to emerge from this stage than most boys, Parker couldn’t really blame him. As Holt’s mother often pointed out, he was being raised on pure testosterone.

  The masculine nature of everything they did had started out as more of an oversight than anything else. Parker’s job required him to work nearly fifty hours a week at The Birth Place, where he was surrounded by mothers and babies and midwives. He was ready for a good burger and a game of football by the time he quit work.

  But his son’s intolerance of anything the least bit feminine was quickly becoming a concern. Because Parker’s wife had died when Dalton was only two, Dalton didn’t remember his mother, and his only living grandmother, his mother’s mother, didn’t provide much of a feminine influence. Wife of Congressman John Barlow, she behaved more like a power-hungry man than a woman. Oh, she loved Dalton, all right—fiercely. But Amanda was too ambitious to spend much time with him.

  Which left Parker to lament that his own mother had succumbed to a stroke shortly after he and Vanessa were married. She’d been the nurturer in his life and had remained close to him even during his teenage years, when his father couldn’t say a nice thing about him. His father’s disdain for the stupid things Parker did as a teenager—which were the same things most teenagers did—turned out to be rather ironic, however. After Parker’s mother died, his father married a woman half his age who behaved more like a high-school girl than an adult.

  Parker grimaced at the thought of Phoebe. With her shallow outlook on life, bleached-blond hair, breast implants, expensive tan and collagen-swollen lips, she was hardly the kind of influence Parker wanted for Dalton, any more than Amanda was. Fortunately his father and Phoebe lived in Washington and weren’t too concerned with visiting—

  The bell over the door jingled as two women entered the enclosed portion of the drive-in, and Parker glanced up. With a population nearing five thousand, Enchantment was large enough that he didn’t know everybody, yet small enough he could expect to run into a familiar face or two almost every time he came to town. Today had been no different. He’d passed Rhoda Strand, the dental hygienist over at Herb Calloway’s office, on his way in.

  He didn’t recall ever seeing this obviously pregnant young woman before. She blocked his view of the other woman who was with her, but he quickly returned his attention to his paper. He didn’t want her to think he was staring. Past experience had taught him that pregnant women were sensitive about that kind of thing. From what he’d seen at the clinic in his twelve years there, pregnant women were sensitive about everything.

  “Oh, good, it’s health food,” one of the women said. “What do you want to order?”

  “I’m not sure. I might get a nut-burger if it isn’t too big. We had a late breakfast.”

  “That was in Albuquerque. It’s been a while.”

  “You’re the one who only picked at your food.”

  “I ate plenty.”

  Bored, he looked up again—and nearly shot out of his chair. He hadn’t recognized the pregnant woman and still didn’t, but he definitely knew the woman with her. Though he hadn’t seen Hope Tanner in ten years, he hadn’t forgotten her name or her face and knew he never would. How could he, when he had a daily reminder?

  What was she doing back in Enchantment?

  Standing, he gathered up the paper, tossed it in the metal rack the Sunflower provided for the purpose of sharing the news and tried to hurry out the door. He’d wait for Dalton in the parking lot of the school and pray that Hope was just passing through.

  “Parker, don’t you dare leave that plate on the table,” Myrna chastised from behind the order window.

  Parker came to the drive-in often enough that the hired help knew him by name, but he pretended not to hear. He was planning to make a clean getaway—until the two women at the counter turned and he saw the recognition in Hope’s eyes.

  “Parker Reynolds,” she said.

  Parker cleared his throat and pretended to have difficulty recalling her name. When they’d first met, he’d been married about three years and was already dealing with a sick wife. Hope had been a pregnant teenage runaway. From her perspective, he wouldn’t have much reason to remember her. “You’re…”

  “Hope Tanner,” she supplied, smiling the same smile he could easily have pictured without ever seeing her again—because his son’s was exactly the same. “Don’t you remember me?”

  “Of course. It’s just…it’s been a while.”

  “Ten years, actually.”

  If only ten years were enough…

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “I’ve been living in St. George, Utah.”

  And now for the big question…

  “What brings you back here?” he asked, working to keep his tone conversational.

  She nodded toward her pregnant companion. “This is Faith, my sister. As you can tell, she’s close to her delivery date. I’m taking her to see Lydia, where I know she’ll be in good hands.”

  “I’m sure Lydia will be happy to meet her,” he said, even though he knew that Lydia would, if anything, be less pleased to see Hope than he was.

  “Are you still working at the clinic?” she asked.

  He nodded, suddenly wishing he’d moved on long ago. He’d planned to, just to be safe. But then Hope’s baby had turned out to be a boy, she’d left town and, almost at the same time, his wife had taken a turn for the worse. After the steady decline that ended in Vanessa’s death, it suddenly seemed absurd to leave a well-paying job—a job whe
re he felt he was making a difference in the world—a comfortable home and a neighborhood where he knew everyone on a first-name basis. Especially when his in-laws insisted he had nothing to fear, and Lydia was so certain Hope would never be back.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Then we’ll probably see you again this week.”

  “I guess so,” he said, which was the best response he could muster. His mind kept telling him that everything was okay, that she didn’t know anything. But his conscience wasn’t willing to write it off quite so easily.

  * * *

  HOPE STARED after Parker Reynolds as he left, feeling a little hurt. He’d meant a great deal to her ten years ago, as a mentor and a friend, but their association must not have had any value to him.

  “Who was that?” Faith asked, following her gaze.

  Hope forced herself to turn away and collect the red plastic baskets containing the nut-burgers they’d ordered. When she was pregnant, she’d sometimes hang out after her appointment with Lydia in hopes of seeing Parker at the clinic—and was always rewarded with a smile or a kind word. Once, when everyone was closing up and getting ready to leave for the day, he’d even called her into his office and given her a brand-new coat, simply because he thought hers was looking threadbare.

  “He’s the administrator at the birthing center,” she said, carrying her food to an empty table.

  “So he worked at the center when you had your baby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How could he?”

  “What do you mean?” Hope stepped over one of the benches permanently affixed to a table and sat down, trying to come to terms with her disappointment. Faith perched on the other side, sitting sideways in deference to her big belly.

  “He doesn’t seem old enough to have been working ten years ago,” she said, sliding her burger closer. “Shouldn’t he have still been in school or something?”

  “He’s not that young, Faith.” Hope added some ketchup from the center of the table to her bun. “He’s got to be at least thirty-five.”