Chapter 7
H eather
After several days of trying to make the cabin more presentable and comfortable, I started to feel more at ease. This wasn’t what I was used to. No amount of dusting, removing spiderwebs, or cleaning windows and hardware would reinvent a place as brand-new. The more I tidied up, I found more issues and faults that needed to be fixed.
If I were to stay here for good, then I’d double down on forming a list of specific things that needed to be fixed. I wasn’t sure who of the ranch owners was in charge. It was a family business, operating in the smack middle of Iowa for many generations. Todd was the only person I thought of as being in charge, or at least the closest to a landlord that I could imagine.
But I wouldn’t take my grievances to him. I didn’t even jot them down. Keeping a mental list was the most I’d let it fester.
Because I’m not staying here. I refused to. I hadn’t been here in Burton for a full week yet, but no amount of time would sway me from wanting to get out of here again. Nothing was warming me up to sticking around for good.
This cabin was livable. My deep clean was the TLC it had been missing for years, maybe decades, but it was a habitable place where I could be safe and comfortable at the minimal degrees of those descriptions.
Yet, I knew I wouldn’t hang out for long.
Every day, as I waited to fall asleep, I scrolled on my phone. If I wasn’t checking for jobs, I was browsing the housing market. Buying a place would seem like a step closer to permanently being here, but that wasn’t how I looked at it. Owning a house, even a small one, would give me more control. Then when I moved on, I could sell it for a profit.
Nothing stood out, though, at least not on the housing front.
I applied to a couple of office and clerical positions, one here in town and another in the neighboring county.
Staying or going, I had to have some sort of income to provide for myself. When I was a teen, just eighteen, I’d entered adulthood with an unforgiving and blunt learning curve. My parents passed away the day after my graduation. They’d won that dumb trip and skipped my graduation, then never came home.
I was thrust into having no family, no backup. Not even a home since they’d let it get so daringly close to foreclosure that it was inevitable for the credit union to seize it as soon as they’d passed away. In those trying years, I busted my ass off, working whatever part-time gigs I could find while going to school.
Maybe that’s where my shitty sleep habits all started.
I huffed as I blinked my tired eyes in bed.
Regardless, a job would be nice. It was mandatory, and on I searched.
When I tired of looking at job posting—half of which looked like scams—I dared to peek on social media and try to keep track of what David was up to. He was the stalker. He was the narcissist asshole who’d controlled me for far too long. It was different, like the tables had been turned, to look him up online.
Nothing stood out as a clue that I was safe. He’d never known where I came from. Burton wasn’t on his radar, and my goal was to ensure I stayed off his radar as well. Forever.
On the seventh day of staying here and blistering my fingers from deep-cleaning the cabin, I smiled at an email from Burton’s only bank. So many financial services and institutions were online only now. Everyone invested and paid bills digitally. And why not? It was far more convenient and faster.
In town, though, on Main Street, a brick-and-mortar bank stood at the corner of one intersection. I recalled opening my very first bank account there when I was fifteen, so I could have my meager paychecks deposited there.
Now, they were interested in me potentially filling their vacancy for administrative help. I tapped in a quick reply that yes, I would be available to come in for an interview at noon the next day.
I’m available at any time of the day...
Hopefully, that wouldn’t be true. I could work there, then still look for something at night. The more I worked, the less I’d think and dwell. The faster I earned, the speedier I could save up.
Staying busy would put a dent in the idle free time I had to stress about how I was still going nowhere with my life.
The next day, I arrived early at the bank, pleased when the manager who’d interview me, Janelle, was pleasant. She was also someone new to Burton, relocated to this specific branch just last year.
“So, you’re born and raised, huh?” she asked.
“Yes. Yes, I was,” I told her, careful not to smirk or let my sarcasm show.
She smiled slightly and tapped her pen on her desk once. “I bet it can get boring around here.”
I grinned. “You have no idea.”
It wasn’t boredom that pushed me to want to move. I read a lot, and it was true. Someone could live a thousand lives and travel anywhere they wanted when they were a bookaholic like I always had been.
Yet, this was the small-town life. “Things can move...slowly around here.”
She huffed, still smiling. “Oh, I believe that. It was a culture shock, adjusting.”
That was all she said about what I shared of my past, and I couldn’t have been more relieved. Janelle wouldn’t be another person to judge me. She couldn’t have many biases or have heard tons of rumors and gossip about me or my parents.
After the hour-long chat with her, I couldn’t help but feel like my spirits were lifted. If I didn’t get the job, I’d be shocked, that was how well the interview went. While I got my associate’s in PR, I had taken enough courses in office administration to be a critical helper in any office setting. Or rather, I would be until AI handled the majority of all office work.
Riding the high of confidence that this interview instilled in me, I walked out of the bank feeling a little lighter. Getting this job would be a good stroke of fortune, and I was in dire need of that lately.
It wouldn’t be a position to elevate me or advance my career, but that was okay. Most days, it wouldn’t even be a challenge. My tasks would likely feel like busywork, but I wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t be choosy. The bank was small, and Janelle assured me I wouldn’t be expected to perform any teller services and “handle the front lines of customer service.”
Whew.
I could handle this job and still have time for another part-time gig, too.
Determined to believe that things had to be looking up, I treated myself to eating at the diner. While I wanted to mind my own business and keep to myself, it was a good change of pace not to sequester myself in the cabin. I didn’t mind making my own simple meals. In fact, after all I endured with David in Chicago, it felt so wonderfully normal, like a rare blessing, to have the freedom to choose my food pickings and prepare it how I wanted to.
Today, after meeting Janelle and having that interview, I wanted to “celebrate,” if a supposedly homecooked club sandwich and side of sweet potato fries could be considered a celebratory meal. I’d bet my salary they bought this stuff frozen anyway.
It was good, but my appetite waned with other customers looking my way. This was sort of like my first public outing. Not too many people had been out the day I arrived and discovered Jerry’s apartment broken into. Then again, my stop at the food mart would have spread the news that I was back. Ashley didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. When she, of all people, came in to sit with a couple of other women I recognized from high school, I internally groaned and slid my phone over to distract myself from her stares from across the diner.
My banking app was the last thing I’d gone to, so I resumed checking over the dismal facts there again.
David had depleted my savings. And my credit was a horror story I wanted to live down and never think of again. Sadly, it would be up to no one but myself to shore up a savings and get back on my feet. Doing some quick calculations with the proposed wage Janelle mentioned had me feeling slightly optimistic, but I knew better than to let my hopes get up high.
If only I’d never met him at all...
I learned at a young age that playing any variation of a what-if game seldom had benefits. It was a waste of creative energy, imagining alternative outcomes to what had already passed.
Yet, it was all too addicting to wonder and daydream.
If I’d never met David, I wouldn’t be in this position, nearly penniless, hopeless, and loveless.
If I’d never left Burton in the first place, I never would have been near that corner on the sidewalk where I first encountered David.
No. I’m not going there. I couldn’t regret leaving Burton when I had. My big move out of town hadn’t lasted long, but it wasn’t as though I could have predicted the problems that would fall in my lap.
“Still here?” Ashley asked.
She hadn’t come near me the whole time I finished my food and tucked away the leftovers for dinner. It was way too big of a portion for one person, especially someone with an iffy appetite like me. Stress was such a fickle bitch like that, wrecking the body in so many ways.
“Yep.”
Obviously I’m still here. Or can’ t you trust your own eyes?
“Why?” She crossed her arms and jutted a hip out as she stared down at me.
I tried and failed to form a reply that would be worthy of my time. Speaking to my biggest bully from high school rated low on my list of things I was willing to do, but it seemed I’d need to brainstorm a reply to get her to leave me alone.
Or maybe not. If I stare at her and opt for silence, she’ll get awkward and walk off, won’t she?
Sticking with that tactic, I didn’t budge as I eyed her seriously.
Go away.
Find someone else to bother.
Just. Fuck. Off.
Sadly, she didn’t possess the skills of reading my thoughts. She remained there, watching me.
“I asked you a question.”
Boo hoo.
“Did you hear me?”
Loud and clear. Still, I didn’t change my blank expression.
“Hello?”
Goodbye.
“I asked why you’re still here.” She sneered, lowering her arms only to lift them and cross them again.
I didn’t blink.
“What’s wrong with you, freak? When someone asks you a question, you answer them.”
Not necessarily. The more I waited her out, the more fun I had. She was flustered, looking around and getting more than annoyed that this wasn’t going her way.
“Tell me why you’re still here.”
Aha. That’s not a question. That’s a demand.
“I heard you had an interview at the bank.”
Well, that proves the theory that gossip still travels at lightning speed around here.
She set her teeth on her lower lip, looking away as if she couldn’t’ stand the sight of me.
“You’re not welcome here.” A huge smile contorted her face now.
That made sense. When she couldn’t get her way and feel triumphant, she’d attack and belittle me. Not much had changed over the years.
“No one likes you, Heather. And no one wants you back here.”
I went numb, slipping behind a cool mask of not giving a shit. I’d never understand why people could be so cruel. Small towns were notorious for jerks, but wasn’t this crap uncalled for? Wasn’t this stupid? My presence did nothing to her. I wasn’t hurting her in any way, minding my own business like this while I tried to unravel the mess I’d made of my life in moving away the first time.
“You hear me?” She reached for my cup so suddenly that her motion jolted me out of this blank stare. I didn’t need to literally rehash my high school years. Lunchroom antics and bully confrontations weren’t new.
I caught her hand before she could toss the water at my face.
She could taunt me. She could be a bitch and hate me for no reason, threatened because I wouldn’t let her win by making me cry or whatever would satisfy her sick, sadist heart.
But I’d be damned if she tried to toss this ice water on me.
Because I was not in the mood to go do laundry. This was my second-to-last clean shirt, dammit.
She narrowed her eyes as I tightened my hand over hers, halting her from moving the cup.
Don’t even think about it.
Now, it seemed she could read my thoughts. She dropped the cup, splashing only a portion of it with a couple of ice cubes. After wrenching her hand free, she huffed and walked away.
What am I doing here? Why am I putting up with this?
Fortunately, I’d already paid my bill. Nothing could keep me here, where everyone was silent and gawking at me. Ashley commanded that sort of attention, and now that she was gone, all eyes were on me.
So much for keeping to myself.
I tried. I really did. But not well enough.
As I scooted out of the booth, I had nothing in mind but to hurry away. To get the hell out of here and back to the relative comfort of privacy at the cabin.
“Whoa!”
I practically ran into an obstacle on the sidewalk though, prevented from reaching my car.
“Sorry—” The apology slipped out on instinct, ingrained in me as it was in every woman who was somehow conditioned to believe she was always in the way. But I didn’t feel apologetic around him .
The solid wall I collided with just had to be none other than that smartass stranger.
Roarke.
Of course , it had to be him.
He frowned at me, likely pissed that I’d made him drop his pile of mail. Envelopes and junk mail scattered on the pavement at our feet.
“Can’t watch where you’re going?” he asked as he lowered to pick up the papers.
“Now’s not a good time to see how much you can piss me off,” I snapped before walking off. I didn’t get two feet away before I curdled with doubt. My heel landed on a flyer for the Burton fall potluck, and I cringed.
Well, shit. I had bumped into him. I should’ve been watching where I was going. Hanging my head suited my need to hide and escape, though, but I doubted he’d care about what I was going through.
Like Ashley predicted, no one cared. Not about me, not here.
I gritted my teeth and doubled back to help him collect his mail. I couldn’t not be the bigger person and try to right a wrong.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “Clearly you’re high and mighty with better things to do. Rush off to them.”
“Just—” I growled, shoving his mail at him as I squatted to chase it in the wind that picked up.
“Just what?” he challenged. “Remember to bow out of respect to her highness when she breezes by? Should I be trained to keep a width berth and make sure you have a right of way the next time I see you, just because the sun must revolve around you?”
“No.” I stood as he did. Toe to toe. Nose to nose. Neither of us backed down.
I funneled all my fury into staring at him and wishing he didn’t have to be so damn tall. I was sick of people looking down at me.
“There won’t be a next time . At least I hope not.”
He grunted, rolling his eyes.
“Because I wish I never have to see you again.”
I’d had it with people trying to break me down.
All I’d done was accidentally bump into him. He didn’t have to be an ass about it.
“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual,” he called at me as I walked away as quickly as I could without looking like I was running.
I didn’t look back.