She arched an eyebrow. “Really? Most writers are so happy to be published they don’t give me conditions.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult, and I really do want my story told. I think it could help other people. But my condition is that I don’t want it published under my name. I want it to be published under the name, Jane Doe.”
“Interesting. Why Jane Doe?”
“Because the story isn’t about me. It’s about God.”
“So what happens if the book gets a lot of attention, because I believe it will? Are you willing to do interviews on TV? The publisher will want that—will insist on it, actually.”
“As long as I can remain anonymous, I will.”
“Again, why?”
“I really don’t want my face shown on TV or my real name involved. After all, I really don’t know what happened to me or who’s responsible. I feel safer to stay anonymous.”
Julie nodded. “So you’re afraid? I suppose that makes sense.”
“That’s part of it. The other part is that I want to live a simple life. Not in the limelight. I’m not seeking celebrity.” You’re a self-centered, celebrity-seeking narcissist. The thought came out of nowhere. She ignored it and focused on Julie.
“Then why write the story at all?”
“That’s a good question. The answer is there are so many people out there, hurting and broken. I want them to know that God loves them, and He will lift them out of their pit if they let Him.”
Julie nodded. “And God lifted you out of that pit?”
“A little more every day.”
“I’ll focus on the safety factor with the publisher. In the end, I’m sure they’ll agree to keeping you anonymous.”
“Exactly how would that work?”
“They’d have to interview you without showing your face and perhaps disguising your voice. In fact, I think the publisher will love it. Built-in publicity. Should be magic with your excellent writing and an amazing story. I’ll not have any problem selling this book. But I’d like to finish reading it before I offer you a contract. Is that OK with you?”
“Of course.”
“You won’t be going to any other agents or publishers out there while I’m reading it?”
“Not at all. I did my research, and you’re the only agent I wanted to contact. I’m driving home when I leave here and that’s where I’ll be until I hear from you.” She stood up. “My contact info’s in there.”
“Excellent.” Julie stood and held out her hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“Same here. Is there any place nearby that would be good for lunch before I go?”
“Do you like corned beef sandwiches?”
“Love them.”
Julie stepped around the desk. “Let’s go. My treat. It’s a great place and they have the most amazing sandwiches.”
After lunch, Raven drove back to Charm. She had to keep wiping the happy tears away. She’d always wanted to write a book. And now she had. Just as Gracie said, when one put their trust in God He would turn ashes into beauty. She hated the reason for the book but loved the fact that she’d actually written it.
After using the remote to lock the garage door—one of Hunter’s recommendations—she walked over to Lydia’s. “You look busy.”
Lydia had a hoe in her hand. “I decided to have a little garden this year. Just a few tomato plants and some peppers. My two favorite summer crops.”
“Couldn’t you find someone with a rototiller to plow it up for you?”
“Oh, I’m sure I could but a little hard work is good for the body, you know.” She patted her ample stomach.
“So true.” She held up the remainder of her lunch. She’d only been able to eat about a third of the sandwich. “I better get this in the refrigerator before it spoils.”
~*~
Raven could smell the horses from her favorite spot on her deck. Actually not the horses, but their unpleasant by-product. She’d gone for a walk and accidently stepped in a pile by the roadside. She’d scraped her shoes on the grass, but some of the horse droppings still tracked from her shoes onto the cement walkway to her front porch. It stank, even though she’d removed her shoes and gone out to her back deck.
She sat at the picnic table with a Bible and index cards. Enough. She couldn’t concentrate on God’s Word with that nasty smell.
She went to the laundry room and grabbed a jug of bleach and a scrub brush. A chill went down her spine as she stared at them. She shrugged it away and walked out to her front walkway. She poured bleach on the offending mess then bent down with the scrub brush. The odor rushed up to meet her.
Everything turned wavy. She looked down at the walkway. It was gone.
Horse. Bleach. A cement floor, much larger than her walkway. She was back in the barn.
“So you’re finally up. I guess I know where the Lazy Susan got its name.”
“My name…not Suzie.”
“It’s whatever I want it to be. And I say it’s Suzie Q.” The monster paused for a moment. “Open your eyes.” He paused. “You really are disgusting, you know that, Suzie Q? I mean really, Suzie Q? Don’t you have any pride? You’re filthy. And this place smells horrible. I think it’s time for a good spring cleaning, don’t you?
“Clean this place up. I’ll take out the straw. If you do a good job, I might let you take a bath too. What are you waiting for? I said clean this mess up.”
She collapsed. What was happening to her? She looked at her wrists. Thick heavy chains. And on her ankles. She curled up in a fetal position. She was back with the monster.
“Raven. Raven.” Someone shook her. “Are you all right?”
Not the monster’s voice.
She opened her eyes.
Lydia was staring at her. Lydia. Her friend. Her neighbor. Not the monster. “Should I call for a doctor for you? Are you hurt? Did you fall?”
Raven shook her head, trying to reorient herself. This was real. Not the monster. Not the barn. “I’m all right, Lydia.”
“You chust don’t look all right.” Lydia helped her stand.
“I’m…I’m not sure what happened.” Raven looked around. She was back on the cement walkway that went to her porch. “I got dizzy, and then here you are.”
“Let me help you get back to your house. And then I’ll clean up this mess for you.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m OK. Really.”
“I’m sure you are. But I’ll help you back to your house chust the same.”
Raven didn’t argue. She was shaking so badly she wasn’t sure if she could make it without some help. She leaned against Lydia and the two of them made it up her steps and into the house.
Lydia walked her to the sofa. “Would you like water or something with sugar? I’m thinking maybe you should have your sugar checked. You might have the diabetes, yes?”
“Sugar might be a good idea. I have soda in the refrigerator.”
A moment later, Lydia was back.
Raven took a long sip from the can.
“This is not the first time you’ve had this shakiness. You should talk to your doctor, yes?”
She wanted to tell Lydia that it had nothing to do with diabetes and everything to do with being kidnapped, but fear stopped her. What would Lydia think if she knew the truth about her? Had it been a real memory or just a hallucination? Had the head injury done more to her brain? “It might be a good idea. I have an appointment in a few weeks. I’ll let him know then.”
“This is good.” Lydia stood up. “Now, I will go out and clean that stinky mess.”
“That’s OK. I’m not sure why the smell bothers me so much.” Or did she? “But it does. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”
“Not to worry. I’ll take care of it.” Lydia left.
Raven leaned back against the sofa. She thought back to the first morning here. She’d dreamed of being in a barn. In chains. And now this. It couldn’t just be her imagination, could it? It had been too real.
Had she been chained in a barn? She could feel the heaviness of chains around her wrist, her ankle. And a man kicking her. Yelling at her. She was on her knees, scrubbing the floor with bleach.
She closed her eyes. The memory seemed so real. Just her imagination? Or a nightmare? But people didn’t have nightmares when they were awake, right? She could remember being on her knees scrubbing. Smelling bleach and horse. And the man kicking her. What else had he done to her?
Maybe that was the real reason she couldn’t remember anything. Maybe she didn’t want to know what the monster had done to her. Monster? She remembered calling him that. He’d only laughed at her. He didn’t seem to have been bothered to be called that.
“All done.”
Raven opened her eyes. She wasn’t in the barn. She was in her home. In Charm. And she was safe, wasn’t she?
Lydia held the jug of bleach and the scrub brush. “Where do you want these?”
“In the kitchen is fine. Thank you so much for helping me.”
“And you are feeling better, yes?”
Raven smiled. “Yes.”
“Would you like me to make you lunch? You should eat something.”
“I’m fine. I had a huge lunch.” She stood up to show Lydia that she was better. With shaky knees, she walked over and hugged the older woman. “Thanks so much for helping me.”
After Lydia left, Raven stood in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. Should she call Amanda or Gracie to tell them? Maybe if she talked to someone she’d remember more.
Not yet.
It was too fragile. Too personal. Too humiliating. A deep sense of shame filled her being. Did she even want to remember more? Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want anyone else to know. What would they think of her? Being chained like a dog. How had she let that happen to herself?
She walked out to the kitchen. Staring at the bleach and the brush, she took a step toward them. And then another. She opened the lid, letting the scent of the bleach fill the kitchen. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Nothing happened.
The memories would come back or not.
I trust you, God. You decide.
She looked at the clock. Today was her afternoon self-defense class with Hunter, but she wasn’t up to it. These new memories had rocked her more than she cared to admit. She called Hunter. He didn’t answer so she left a message. “Hunter. This is Raven. I’m not feeling well today. I’m sorry to give you such short notice but I’m canceling. See you next time. Thanks.”
Bone-deep exhaustion overwhelmed her. She plopped onto the sofa and reached for her Bible.
~*~
The doorbell buzzed.
Raven popped up, startled, her Bible sliding from her chest into her lap. It took a few moments to orient herself. She was on her sofa, in her home. Safe and snug. She took a deep, fortifying breath and let it out. Probably Lydia checking on her.
She walked over and opened the door. “Hunter, I didn’t expect you.”
He held out a bowl. “Soup for what ails you. Homemade.”
“Who made it? Your girlfriend?” She took the bowl.
“I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment. And I made it. You know there are men in this world who can actually cook.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sexist.” She stepped back. “Come on in.”
“Did you eat dinner?”
“Not really.”
“Good.” He took the bowl from her. “You sit and I’ll take care of you since you’re the one not feeling well. Be back in a few.”
Raven felt odd sitting on the sofa while Hunter did whatever it was he was doing in her kitchen. She stood up and then sat back down several times, not sure what to do. Finally, she went to join him.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’ve been resting all afternoon.”
“Soup’s ready.”
Her stomach rumbled at the delicious smell. “I just realized I am hungry. How about we sit outside on the deck?”
“Sounds good. You lead the way.”
She held open the door while he carried out the tray.
He grinned. “I haven’t actually eaten yet either, so I brought enough for both of us, if you don’t mind.”
He placed a bowl of soup in front of her along with a saucer with rolls and a glass of water.
She looked at the soup. “I thought it would be chicken soup.”
“Oh, nothing so mundane for this cook. I hope you like broccoli and cheese soup.”
“Love it.”
“I put Amish noodles in it. It puts it over the top.”
She took a bite and gave him a thumbs up. “Delicious.”
He ate several bites and then looked at her. “So what’s up?”
“I…uh…” She didn’t want to lie, and she didn’t want to tell him the truth.
He grinned. “Never mind. It’s OK if you don’t want to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked. That’s the cop in me. Always asking questions. Sorry.”
“It’s not that. I’m just not sure how to answer you.” She took another bite and grinned. “This soup really is good.”
“Nice change of subject, Raven. I have something else I wanted to talk to you about anyway. That’s one of the reasons I stopped by. I wanted to tell you in person.”
“That sounds serious. And mysterious.”
“It’s not that big of a deal. And I’m not being mysterious at all. My life is an open book.”
She wished she could say the same. “OK, so…”
“Today’s session would have been the last you paid for.”
“Oh, I know. I’d planned to pay for another month today.” She stood up. “Let me get my checkbook right now.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “No. You’re misunderstanding me. I don’t want another check from you.”
She sat down. “Am I that bad of a student? You think I’m hopeless? I know we’ve had to take it slow but I’m getting stronger every session. You said so yourself.”
“It’s not that at all.”
“Then what is it.”
He squeezed her hand. “It’s a conflict of interest.”
“What do you mean?”
He squeezed her hand again. “I don’t want your money because I want to be your friend. Friends don’t take money from friends.”
“Oh…I see.” Did he mean friends or more than friends? Her cheeks warmed. Which one did she want it to be? “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s OK. I’ve been practicing so I’ll do the talking.”
She smiled. This big, tough police officer and martial arts instructor was admitting he was nervous enough to practice what he wanted to say. She started to speak but he held up a hand.
“I want us to be friends, but I’m not looking for a relationship with anyone. I don’t know about you, but I can always use another friend.”
So that was it. Just friends. She ignored the sense of disappointment, but she couldn’t blame him. Why would anyone want to be in a relationship with her? After the things that monster probably did to her. She forced a smile. “Friends sounds good.”
“And friends don’t take money from friends.”
“They do if they’re providing a valuable service for them.”
He shook his head. “Not going to happen, Raven. We can keep up the sessions but no money’s changing hands.”
“That’s not fair to you. Your time is valuable.”
“Not as valuable as a friendship.”
“But—”
“Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“It’s one of my faults, but it’s also an asset.”
“It just doesn’t seem fair to you.”
“It’s what I want. Besides, I’m fine, financially speaking. I have my job as a police officer. I don’t do the martial arts things for money. It’s a passion. You won’t be the first pe
rson I gave free lessons to.”
“Oh…” She arched a brow at him. “What do you do? Give every single woman free lessons?”
He laughed. “Not exactly. The last group I gave free lessons to was a group at the senior citizen center.”
“Oh. Fine.”
“Whyyyy….were you jealous?”
She grinned. “Not in the least, Hunter. After all, we’re just friends.”
19
Raven sat on her sofa flipping through the channels. When she came to the nightly news she stopped. It had been months since she’d bothered with the news. There’d been a time when the news was her obsession as well as her profession. But she no longer had the desire to hear about the pain of others. It only made her heart hurt, now that she understood suffering.
The news anchor was reminding everyone of the presidential primary debates that night. Funny, she hadn’t even thought about the election for months. As a reporter, politics had been one of her assignments. It had been her secret dream to end up in Washington so she could be in the thick of it. In fact, she’d just finished a series on presidential hopefuls when she’d disappeared. How many of her profiled people had already dropped out of the race? Had her series even ran? Had there been any reaction to it? Maybe she’d watch a little of the debate—just to see what was happening. She wanted to remain an informed citizen voter.
Her life had become so small. It was about her and the few people she’d let in. Including Hunter—just as a friend, of course. She might have wanted more but he’d made it clear that wasn’t happening. Just friends. She hated that expression.
But she was glad to have Hunter as her friend. And Gracie. Sweet, amazing Gracie. As much as Raven loved her family, it was good to have a few good friends, too. And they were good friends—even if she hadn’t told them about her returning memories.
A few more bits and pieces had come back to her. She could see the man—the monster—but he didn’t have a face. She could feel him kicking her and yelling at her. It was frustrating and a little bit scary.
Actually more than a little bit.
When she hadn’t had any memories, it hadn’t been real.
Now it was.
And Raven was second guessing all her decisions. Especially the book deal—which was moving faster than she’d expected. Julie had kept her promise and found a publisher who’d agreed to Raven’s anonymity. And they were doing a rush job to get the book ready for release. She’d received a much larger advance than she’d expected as a new author. Julie explained it was the intrigue of her story along with the mystery of what happened to her.
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